Riven was fascinated that a group of mindless beings who wanted nothing more than to destroy the entire mortal race could actually have something so sophisticated as a meeting. Though to be fair, they didn’t seem very mindless at the moment.

Scary, nevertheless.

Two Infernals were the first thing Riven spotted when he came up the rise. Two, big, brutish demons who overshadowed everyone else in the meeting. One was slim and at least four yards tall, his scales a shimmery jade green that gave Riven uncomfortable visions of Viriya’s eyes. The other stood wide as a wall, scales and spikes dull but thick, red as dried blood. Two beings clearly not to be messed with.

Riven stopped when he came fully abreast of them, standing at the same level. There were two more demons, one of whom was Wramorrh. The other was the smallest of the group in light-pink scales arrayed—and Riven couldn’t believe he was talking about a demon—prettily all over it. He blinked. Shit, he’d fallen into the same traps of prejudice that everyone else he knew harboured. He shook his head. So what if a demon looked beautiful? They had every right to be so, just as mortal people did.

“Welcome Mhell,” the red Infernal said, opening her arms wide as though to embrace the witch. Mhell didn’t oblige. “It seems you’ve been busy. We’ve been waiting for you for quite a while now.”

The others nodded and smiled in agreement, their sharp stares boring first into Mhell and then into Riven. A dangerous gleam of recognition had settled onto Wramorrh’s eyes. She knew him and she didn’t approve of him. That was obvious.

“I was busy,” Mhell replied carefully. “But it seems our party is incomplete. Where might our other guests be at this time?”

“Oh don’t worry.” The red Infernal’s smile grew sweeter and more dangerous. “They’re here, but they got bored by your dallying, so they decided to take a stroll.”

Mhell’s face darkened. “Where?”

“To the east of us.”

Mhell looked back, and the Spectre who had led them here hurried up from his spot at the edge of the hill’s peak. “Go fetch them. Tell them I’ll give you over if they come quick enough.”

“Ma’am?” He looked perplexed. No, not perplexed, positively frightened. “I’m not sure—”

“You have your orders. Go.”

Mhell’s voice cracked like a whip and the Spectre nodded, then hurried off hastily. Riven frowned after him. What in the Chasm could she mean by “giving him away”? Who was he for her to give away? Not some dog, but an actual Spectre, a person who could make their own decisions and choices. Damn but this war was turning Mhell more unpleasant every hour. He knew there was supposed to be hard decisions but giving the Spectre away made Riven’s fingers itch.

Wramorrh walked forward, the smaller demon trailing at her side. “So! What were you two gallivanting about back there? Quite an interesting show you put up. I for one was enthralled to see you help not only an Essentier, but a bunch of soldiers as well. Ascension soldiers to boot.”

A long cacophony of mutters rang out. Most of it was uttered by the tall, green demon into the red one’s ear, but Riven got the gist. They hated him. They hated the soldiers too. The fact that Mhell had helped both him and the soldiers now made them question if they should start hating Mhell too.

“I was returning a favour,” Mhell said.

Wramorrh’s eyes went wide. “A favour!” She turned to the other demons, an incredulous look on her face. “Did you hear that? She owes this Essentier a favour. And here we were thinking you were so different from other Deadmages, so willing to set aside your personal goals and work together to realize our shared dream.” Wramorrh took one more step closer, face nearly diving into Mhell’s. “Mind telling us what this favour is so we can decide whether to evict you or not?”

Riven swallowed. He was tiny here, a small fly with no real powers of his own and with no way to sway the minds of these Deathless. This must have been why Mhell was reluctant to help him. She didn’t want to enlighten the other Deathless about her connection to him. If he’d known this was going to be the outcome—then what? Would he have faced the Phantoms on his own? Ridiculous. He’d have died.

For her part, Mhell didn’t back off one step. She pressed her hands to the skirt of her dress, smoothing out some of the folds of burgundy, frowning as she found some spots that wouldn’t comply with her wish. When she looked up, she had something of her old smile back. One that said nothing here could ever worry her. “For all that you speak of betrayal and trust, Wramorrh, you seem to be evading the talk of action. I’ve now killed a few insane Phantoms, making sure Orbray will not be summoning any Scions with a Revenant’s sudden appearance. Besides, it was quite fun to stretch my legs and exercise a bit. I believe in a change of pace every now and then. This sneaking about business can get quite tiresome. You should try it some time.” She paused, then smiled even wider at the demon. “Oh wait.”

It took a moment for Riven to understand the dig, but he tried not to laugh when he got it. She was right. A bloodthirsty, murderous Infernal could no more sneak around than a rampaging water ox.

Wramorrh shook her horned head. “There are Wraithlocks in the Beyond, Mhell, or have you forgotten. We don’t need to worry about Phantoms. If anything, we should be worried about you. Aren’t all your kind slavering over the prospect of being the very first Wraithlock?”

Mhell raised an arm, clasping a hand over her mouth in mock shock. “And here I thought we’d gotten off to such a wonderful start back there. Before it was interrupted by those stupid soldiers.”

“Bah, this arguing is pointless.” The smallest demon stepped forward. She was small yes, but relatively. The tip of the single white horn on her head was still a yard above Riven’s head. “Let’s get on with why we’re all here, yes? So tell us, what has everyone been up to?”

She’d chosen the perfect moment to ask. Or maybe she’d timed it like that. The last members of the meeting floated in, two Deadmages who looked as though this was the last place they wanted to be. Riven couldn’t blame them. Every second he had to stop from asking himself what in absolute fuck was he doing in a meeting between a bunch of Class Two Deathless.

They had similar clothing—dirty brown shirts and short black coats, suspenders hanging over the whole getup to hang faded grey pants from. Similar enough to must have been much the same people when they were still alive. Same professions, same lives, perhaps the same goals and interests. No wonder they were all but walking hand-in-hand.

“Well, we were gathering followers,” said the first Deadmage.

“That’s right,” the second agreed. “Ascension Demesne has a lot more Spectres than I’d thought. Our armies are now three times as large as when we set out.”

The first Deadmage looked at Mhell with a hint of smug smile. “What were you up to, Deadmage?”

Mhell smiled back. A lazy hand trailed up and fingered her spiky hair. “I was collecting and training my followers into a group that wasn’t as raggedy and directionless as I kept seeing everywhere. You know, a functioning team who knows how to act even when I’m not the one directing every little thing.”

Her smile was even sweeter than the red demon’s had been. The Deadmages weren’t taken in by it. Maybe they were lacking a sweet-tooth.

“And you demons?” the first Deadmage asked.

“Well, I can assure you that I’ve been plagued by those bastards from Ascension,” Wramorrh said. “It’s been every step of the way too. I tore down one of their bastions—measly defence, and the Essentier there was a dung-humping goat—but the Captain took out his troops and then harassed me all the way here.” Wramorrh smiled then. A wide smile showing teeth, one Riven had seen in that battle that had sent everything awry. “But I caught them. Was not nice.”

The red demon laughed, clapping her green companion on the back hard enough to make him jerk forward a little. He scowled down at the red demon. “We’ve been plagued by Orbray’s dumb armies too,” she said. “Those gnats are everywhere. They got into the city before I could catch them though.”

Riven didn’t know how it was physically possible, but Wramorrh’s smile grew wider at that.

“And our special guest?” Mhell asked cheerfully, though there was a tiny edge to it now.

“Oh of course.” The green Infernal moved away, and a Phantom popped into existence behind her. “She’s been waiting for a while.”

Riven blinked Of course they’d have a Phantom here too. It only made sense, having all three kinds of Deathless present in their Deathless meeting. But still. Didn’t they know the danger of letting one ascend to a Revenant? It was arguably less dangerous than having one of the Deadmages ascend though, which was likely why they had three to keep each other in check.

After all, even if one of the ghosts didn’t ascend, there was always a Revenant who could come down from the Beyond.

“And you?” Mhell asked the Phantom. “What have you been doing thus far?”

“Spying,” she said.

Riven peered at the Phantom. The ghost was of a young girl, at least three or four years his junior. She had on a short, white coat over her rose-coloured dress, her dark hair combed back as though she had brushed it just that morning. Riven’s breaths had turned shallow, his head turning images of Franry over and over. How had someone so young become not only a Spectre, but a Phantom as well. What in the world had she gone through?

“And what have you spied?” Mhell prompted.

“That you killed one just like me moments ago.”

The room went quiet. Mhell blinked, but the girl’s eyes were fixed disquietingly on the witch’s, unabashed in her accusation. Riven couldn’t read the little Phantom’s expression. There was no resentment there that one of her fellows had died—several actually, though it was curious she had mentioned only the one killed by Mell. It was blank, as if waiting to be filled in by whatever Mhell said next.

“An accident,” Mhell said.

“Accident?” the Phantom asked.

“Yes. We make mistakes from time to time. It’s quite natural. But it’s always good to remember to take sharp and enduring lessons from each one we make.”

“You don’t have to tell me what I need to do with my mistakes.”

“Of course.”

The Phantom nodded. “Then let us move on to more important matters. The attack.”

No one else wanted to be the first to bring up the topic. Riven looked between them, noting the reluctance on the demons’ faces—except for Wramorrh—and the Deadmages’ disinterest. Curious. Didn’t they want to take over Ascension city and destroy everything?

Then he met Wramorrh’s gaze, her eyes as hostile as they’d been when he had first met her. If Riven took a step too close, she’d surely bite his head off.

Of course. They were worried he’d spill everything he learned here.

Apparently, Mhell noticed it too. She cleared her throat before stepping forward. “I will not be attacking head-on. Besides the fact there are bound to be traps of various kinds over there, I have no wish to embroil myself in a drawn-out conflict. My goal is Orbray, and Orbray only.”

“You mean the Scion Orbray wants to call down,” the first Deadmage said. He scoffed but he held back from saying anything further on the matter.

Mhell ignored it. “Once I’ve gotten to Orbray, I’m fairly certain I can stop him and any straggling Essentiers still remaining at his side.” She smiled. “He won’t know what hit him.”

The red demon stepped forward. “In other words, you want the rest of us to assault Ascension city so that most of the Essentiers are drawn away from the High Invigilator’s side.”

“That’s correct.”

“That’s insane. You expect us to trust you alone can defeat Orbray where he needs to be defeated?”

“Is there any other choice? I’ve been to Ascension city before. I know its layout and where I have to go to get to Orbray, which paths I have to take to get to him as quickly as possible. It’s the best way we can make use of what time we have left.”

“There is no time limit so long as one of you Deadmages don’t turn into a Wraithlock.”

Mhell and the other Deadmages looked at each other, all of their expressions blank. Riven remembered what Viriya had said about her history. There hadn’t been a single Wraithlock who ascended to the Beyond since the formation of the Deathless centuries ago. All witches were waiting for the first one to rise.

It’d be stupid to discount the possibility of one of these Deadmages falling to the lure of ascending to the Beyond.

“Do you have a better alternative?” Mhell asked them all. “Please, I’m all ears.”

“We attack head-on.” This time, it was the green Infernal who spoke, his voice gravelly and deep, heavy as he was. “We can force through the defences and take the city, make Orbray kneel and turn everyone there into another Deathless. It would be easy. Too easy.”

Riven’s heart went cold. Turn everyone into Deathless. That’s what these demons were for, after all. He shouldn’t be surprised, not after what had happened to Rattles. All that fire, all those ruined families and screaming children, people abducted and taken by the demons to be turned into one of them.

His hands shook. Taking a deep breath, Riven crossed his arms before any of the Deathless here noticed.

“We are not turning every living thing in Ascension city into Deathless.” Mhell said. Her façade of cheerful playfulness dropped, the cold in her eyes worse than the eye of a blizzard. “I made my stance on this clear from the onset. There would be no point in stopping Orbray if we forced everyone to turn at the same time.”

“It’s inevitable, you fool,” the green Infernal argued. He waved his hands round to argue his point as though to hammer them home with his fists. “Everyone is going to become Deathless whether they like it or not eventually, even if the rest of us stay put and silent.”

“What?”

Riven couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t have heard right. What in the world did that demon mean that everyone would turn into a Deathless anyway?

“You didn’t know?” the pink Infernal asked, a curious glint in her dark eyes. She looked at Mhell. “I thought you’d told him, that he knew what he was getting into.”

“I want to know what you mean by that,” Riven spoke before Mhell. This conversation had gone on long enough without his participation. “Why would everyone turn into a Deathless?”

“Because that’s what this world wants,” the green Infernal said. “This whole land, all of it is geared towards turning mortals into Deathless one way or another. That fate is inescapable.”

“That can’t be true,” Riven whispered.

“It is. Why do you think the Deathless are so madly driven to kill any mortal they come across? Don’t you know they are plagued by visions from the Beyond? You do know, going by your expression. Now that you do, tell me, why does the Beyond manipulate the weaker Deathless to slaughter humans indiscriminately? Why are the Deathless filled with Sept, why does the world rain down Sept, why is the land unsuitable for supporting any human life? Have you ever pondered the meaning behind these questions, Essentier? Have you ever wondered the why behind them all?”

The demon finally stopped talking, and Riven took a shaky breath. No, that Infernal couldn’t be right. If all he said was true, then everything they had been fighting for was useless. Worthless. What was the point of saving anyone if their entire race was doomed to become the very things they were so bent on killing and ridding the world of?

Especially when the world itself didn’t want them to go?

The pink Infernal scoffed, her eyes cold at Mhell. “I can’t believe you let such an uneducated brat into the meeting.”

“What I do is none of your concern,” Mhell said. “I’ve attested for his trustworthiness. That should be enough.”

“It’s not. Nowhere near. I’ve no idea what is his purpose here, what he wants with us or why a mortal is working against his own kind.” The Infernal’s eyes thinned to slits. “If he is even working against them.”

“Are you accusing me of harbouring a spy?”

“I’m accusing you of being one.”

Mhell’s charm was gone completely. “And here I thought we were past the accusations.”

“But what made you do it, though?” The Phantom’s eyes flickered over to Riven, and he swallowed the growing lump in his throat. That dark gaze was trying to suck his soul straight out of his body. “What made you help him?”

Riven needed to bolt. Get the Chasm out of this hilltop while he still had a chance. But he was frozen in place, their regards petrifying him as sure as though he had become encased in ice. His eyes flickered between all of them. The demons’ he couldn’t read, and the girl’s was just empty and waiting with curiosity.

But the Deadmages were looking at him with an openly appreciative gleam. Riven wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that meant.

“He is an asset,” Mhell replied. “They are things you must protect for future benefits.”

One of the demons laughed. It was the red one again. “Pray tell us, what sort of benefit could a human—and an Essentier too—provide us in the future? And how far into the future are we talking about? If it’s something silly like in a decade’s time, then you can forget about it.”

Riven swallowed again, shoving away the thoughts of Sept, of Deathless, of how doomed they all supposedly were. He wasn’t going to make it out of this damn place alive anytime soon. But he didn’t intend to die here either. He squared his shoulders, his hands straying towards the gun at his waist. Maybe if he could distract them a little with his golden Essence—

Mhell shot him a warning glare, quickly smoothing it away to returning to her feigned pleasant disposition. “Oh, don’t be so boorish, Vordihn. You don’t even know the real reason I’ve dragged Riven with me everywhere.”

“And what might that be?”

“He’s one of the Chosen.”

The silence that greeted those words was absolute. Riven had frozen in place for real now, his body colder than the depths of winter.

Somehow, he turned to face Mhell. “No, I’m not a fucking Chosen.”

Mhell ignored him, staring at the other Deathless who in turn had their eyes fixed on Riven. “He is ignorant of his potential, but he had already been blessed by a Scion once. Another Chosen is also working in league with him. He has even journeyed to the Beyond and survived his meeting with the broken god. Underestimate Riven at your own peril.”

Underestimate? Fucking Chasm, Mhell was painting a target on his back that was bigger than a mountain. He didn’t need any of this right now.

“None of that has anything to do with this.” He closed his eyes for a moment. Thankfully, the Deathless were too flabbergasted to do anything just then. Rose. All this time, everything he had done so far, was all for Rose. Riven had to get to his sister. “Have I satisfied your curiosity enough? If so, I need to get going.”

“Curiosity?” The red Infernal looked confused for a moment, before her eyes sharped to flints. “Boy, I’ve got half a mind to kill you right here.”

“You can certainly try.”

Riven hadn’t meant to say that. His heart was thumping like someone was punching on his chest. But he was tired of being treated like he was trash, dangerous pollutants that was slowly going to kill them. Worse, he couldn’t even deny it. If they really intended to kill ever man, woman, and child in Ascension city, there was no way he was going to let them run loose.

“Oh ho, the mortal has balls,” Wramorrh said. She stepped closer and the spikes on her shoulders and her head gleamed. “How do we know you’ll stay quiet, boy?”

“I don’t know. How can any of you trust each other?” Riven looked at each of them, the pressure within him building. They all stared back, unflinching. “Isn’t there a level of faith going on? Why is it so hard to extend it to me?”

“Because you’re a human brat?”

“And were you born this ugly fucking monster?”

Wramorrh nostrils flared, the edge of her scales seeming sharper than knife blades. “Watch your mouth, boy. I can cut out your tongue and choke you with it.”

“Like I said, you can try.”

“Enough,” the pink Phantom said before Wramorrh took another step closer to Riven. “There’s an easy enough solution to this mess.”

She looked from Riven to Mhell, then back again. That look on her face was calculating, in it is own way far more dangerous than the ferocity on Wramorrh’s. Riven found himself looking at Mhell too. Her face was blank, the cracks an unreadable plain. For all that she had said, for the fact she had vouched for him, she still hadn’t interfered against Wramorrh.

“What might that be, Melgorath?” Vordihn, the green Infernal, asked the pink.

“One of us accompanies them.”

Another silence. The solution was simple, yet brilliant. Riven glanced at the pink Infernal with tightly pressed lips, reappraising her. Of course, Riven had already noticed the demon was different from the others, more careful, calculating, and ruthless in her own way. Not bloodthirsty like the others. Not giving off the same savage aura.

But they were all looking at each other, trying to figure out which one among them would be the best to go with Riven and Mhell.

“Do I get to pick?” Riven asked.

Wramorrh glared at him. “Pick me.”

Despite himself, Riven laughed. “I’m not a thrill-seeker, I assure you.”

“I will request that my fellow Deadmages accompany me,” Mhell said. “I need to discuss further plans with you, anyway.”

“I will go,” the first Deadmage said, a shrewd look in his eyes.

His companion nodded. “So will I.”

“Everything settled?” Riven asked. “I’m free to leave you to your squabbling?”

“Wait for me,” Mhell said.

Riven glanced at her, but made no promises. No one made any complaints as he made his down the hilltop. He thanked the Scions as he reached the bottom. His shoulders hadn’t shaken and his legs hadn’t trembled once while he had his back turned to them. It was a scary moment, though Riven had held his Essence close to him, ready to fling it out at the first sign of trouble behind him.

For some reason, the Deathless on the hilltop had been civilized. It was obvious that ascending to the next level of Deathless granted them greater control over their own minds. Still. It was one thing to interact with them as sentient beings capable of individual thought, it was wholly another to see several plotting together to destroy everything he knew and cherished.

Everything. Riven paused in his strides. The Deathless had said they intended to destroy everything, all because everything was apparently screwed anyway. He wasn’t sure he believed them, but all their proof made sense. Raining Sept, this blasted land, the mindless actions of the lesser and more numerous Deathless, it was all geared towards reducing the mortal population.

All geared towards turning people into Deathless.

“What happened?” Captain Rett asked. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I did actually.” Riven had kept walking after reaching the bottom of the hill, his wayward steps taking to the shade of an enormous, rocky overhang. Mhell had said to wait, but he had other ideas. Other needs. “I have a proposal for you, Captain.”

“What’s that? And what happened in that meeting of yours?”

“I’m going to go to Ascension city. You willing to come with me?”

“This isn’t another trap?”

Riven have her a flat stare. “Is that really necessary?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“I need to find a friend first.”

Rett’s eyes narrowed. “Another?”

“Yes. An important friend, saving whom means I get to save the whole Demesne.”

The Captain’s face blanched. Around them, the other soldiers’ ears perked up. Riven didn’t mind explaining everything to them. There was a certain connection now, a certain understanding that in the end, they all wanted the same thing.

Survival.

“What are we waiting for then?” Rett asked. “Let’s go.”