Connor slammed the useless history book on the hard stone table. He’d been reading book after book for a week and had nothing to show for it beyond an intimate knowledge of the functioning of the western province’s economy. Why had anyone bothered to put such useless tomes in a hidden room? Unless a thief was suffering from insomnia he wouldn’t have any interest in them. No one would have any interest in them beyond a governor or other administrator.

Wait!

An administrator. Where was it? Connor flung aside several books until he found the one he sought. He rifled through page after page of lists until he found it, a list of high-value slaves sent to the palace. He scanned the columns of names and numbers until he reached a note at the end. Included with this shipment: Three artifacts of unknown providence for storage in the palace vault.

The palace vault. If the artifact he sought was anywhere it would be in the vault. Connor collected his amulet from the niche in the wall. The hidden compartment slid shut, hiding the mirror away for however many hundreds of years it would take for another to find it.

Now that he had a destination Connor was eager to move on. He slipped the amulet around his neck and rushed up the stairs. His power had recovered, thank the Horned One. Some enchantment woven into the stone shielded the interior of the pyramid from the energy-draining effect outside.

He retraced his steps back to the exit, passing the snarling, still-trapped guardian as he went. The demon thrashed when he got close, but couldn’t escape the binding. Connor powered up his shield and stepped out into the desolate wasteland. Dry, acrid air parched his throat. Above, a dim spot of light showed where the sun struggled to penetrate the dismal clouds. A small winged silhouette passed in front of the light.

Connor frowned and turned back to reseal the pyramid. No bird would fly into the haunted lands. Animals had sense enough to avoid the unnatural place. If it wasn’t a bird—

A huge approaching power drew his gaze up in time to spot a black-scaled demon plunging toward the ground. Bat wings snapped open at the last second, flapped twice, and the beast settled light as a feather ten feet from Connor. Jagged horns jutted up from a head covered in bone spurs. Twin sanguine flames burned in deep-set sockets and a thick, reptilian tail thrashed behind it.

Connor tensed, ready to lash out. This monster easily overmatched the one he’d bound inside. If it came to a fight he wasn’t certain he’d win. That the demon didn’t attack at once argued a peaceful resolution remained possible. Unlikely, but possible.

“You serve the Horned One,” the demon said.

Connor nodded, equally surprised and relieved to be having a conversation and not fighting for his life. “That’s right. Do you?”

Bony lips peeled back, revealing three rows of razor-sharp teeth. “Focalor serves no master. I smelled the Horned One’s stench in your soul force.”

“Forgive my misunderstanding. I assume you want something since we’re having this pleasant conversation instead of killing each other.”

“As if you could harm Focalor. Focalor wishes to know what brings a puny mortal to this place.”

“I’m looking for something.”

“Focalor is looking for something as well. Focalor cannot gain access to the pyramids so his search has been frustrating. Perhaps Focalor and the warlock can help each other.”

A demon that wished to work with someone rather than kill them on the spot. Of all the wonders Connor had seen this one surprised him the most. Having a demon to help deal with guardians and traps would make his task much easier. Of course once the demon found what it wanted Connor’s lifespan would be measured in seconds. But if he didn’t agree to work with Focalor his life wouldn’t last much longer.

“That sounds like an excellent suggestion. I’m Connor, pleased to meet you. What, exactly, are we looking for?”

“Focalor seeks a way back to hell. He has wandered this world in search of a gate, but has found nothing. The pyramids are Focalor’s last hope of finding one.”

“If you wish to return to hell, fly west until you find a great stone citadel. The holy warriors inside will be happy to kill you.”

The demon flexed its wings and tensed. For an instant Connor feared he’d made a horrible mistake, but Focalor didn’t spring and rend him limb from limb. It shook like a wet dog and sighed.

“Focalor does not wish to return in defeat, but to stride through a gate like a returning hero. The other demons will see how great Focalor is and fear and obey him.”

Even by demonic standards this creature was insane. It also seemed to be searching for the same thing as Connor. If the demon helped him find the crystal gate key Connor would be more than happy to let it pass through the portal.

“I’m seeking a gate key as well. It seems our interests are aligned. We work together to find the crystal and when the portal opens you go through and leave me in one piece to use it as I wish. Agreed?”

“This arrangement suits Focalor. Has the warlock found the key inside?”

“No, but I found a clue. I believe what we seek is in the Palace of Alexious.”

“Focalor has seen the palace, but a barrier prevents him from entering.”

Connor frowned. What sort of barrier would be strong enough to keep a demon as strong as Focalor out? And more importantly, would it also keep Connor out?

“Let’s go take a look.”