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Prologue
THE DEAL
SIX YEARS AGO…
“Argh.”
A loud roar ripped through the silence of the long and spiraling stairwell. Tiller paused before his next step. His shadow flickering against the wall as the torches that hung on it fluttered from the stench filled wind that kept up its steady flow throughout the high tower like structure. He tensed when the loud roar was followed by a cracking sound. The ears atop his head twitched as he forced himself to continue his long trek downward, the initial fear evacuating under the fire of his ambition.
The long descent was only interrupted when another torch flicked on and a flash of light caused him to squint his eyes. Reaching the bottom, he spotted a guard against the wall. The male’s expression was grim as he side-eyed Tiller with barely a nod of respect.
The minute Tiller had been given the go ahead for his project, he knew those who worked as the police of Veil City wouldn’t think much of him. Not that they thought much of him with his thin figure and feminine features. Pulling a folder from within his robes, he held up the main paper that held the symbol of the Council.
“Cell six.” He kept his voice cool, and empty of any emotion.
The uniformed male’s eyes narrowed. He barely flinched when something slammed against what sounded like a stone wall, followed by a high-pitched scream. “You’re here for these demons?” He drew back, his mouth curling in disgust. “The only reason I’ll fucking guide you there is because of that slip of fucking paper.” He screwed his face up, spitting a few inches away from Tiller’s feet.
Keeping his face neutral, Tiller sniffed and immediately regretted it. The foul sewage stench was far worse below. He replaced the paper into his inner pocket that held many things that wouldn’t usually fit in an average pocket.
“Well, that’s why I didn’t go to a simple Blue Jay for permission.” He leaned slightly forward, taking in the male’s name badge. “Carlyle.” He drew back. “Lead me to cell six.”
Carlyle’s face screwed up before he abruptly turned his back on Tiller and snapped. “This way.”
The long hallway resembled a cave. The cell doors that lined both walls were made of heavy oaken wood. Each holding a number and a blackened magical circle.
Some had barred windows and others were solid doors. Tiller could hear the scrape of chains against the floor and the low mumbling that sounded inhuman. The atmosphere was heavy with despair and the muffled curses of guards lent the entire walk a grim taste that Tiller found sickening.
“This is it,” the guard said, taking a step back and leaving it to Tiller to approach the door.
A scare tactic? Tiller had lost his fear a long time ago. Reaching out he grabbed the torch that hung on the wall near the door. Light immediately flared, causing his eyes to shine a brilliant gold.
Turning his attention to the door, he boldly approached it. Leaning forward slightly, he was met with the sight of a large male seated against the wall. His robe open, giving view to his large pale body. The years spent in Bowels hadn’t emaciated him. His form was still as powerful and large as the day he’d been brought down here.
His black hair was inhumanely long, covering the floor in black swirls. His robe—though tattered at the edges was made of magicked material. The red coloring seemed to almost glow in the dark of the cell. The scattering of Sakura blossoms along it were white against the blood red back drop, looking like small drops of moonlight.
The male didn’t flinch at the sudden light invading his prison. Instead, he remained head bowed, and legs spread out in front of him. His hands sitting listlessly at his side.
Tiller observed him for a second, trying to gather his thoughts. What words did you say to a being who radiated power even as they sat still on the floor? The iron shackles that connected to the cuffs around his wrist and ankles held the glow of runes meant to keep them unbreakable.
As Tiller thought over the first words he should say, the focus of his thoughts spoke first.
“What do you want fox?”
Tillers skin prickled as the voice seemed to come from all around him. The deep, monstrous vocals caused his hair to stand on end. Slowly, the beings head lifted, the hair still blocking the view of his face. The only thing Tiller could see was a single intense red eye. But it was enough for him to question the intelligence of his plan for a second. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to speak.
“I want to make a deal with you, Oni.”
The being moved again. The sound of his robe rubbing against the floor seemed almost intimidating like the rattle of a snake’s tail.
“A deal?”
“Yes,” Tiller swallowed. Everything hinged on him getting this being to side with him. “I know why you’re in here—”
“Hmph, so you’re a councilman.”
Tiller frowned. He wasn’t accustomed to being interrupted, but he let it slide. He knew there was nothing he could do to the being for its rudeness.
“Yes, I am, but I have decided to give you and a few others freedom.”
