Dante helps me to my feet. Then they hold me by the shoulders and search my eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay, little bird?"

I nod.

They haul me into their arms and hug me so tight it hurts. "Oh, Alex--we were so worried. Damien was ready to tear Hell apart on his own."

"How long have I been gone?" I ask after Dante lets me go and I can breathe again.

"I don't know for sure--you know time's relative and shit--but it's been a week in Carnâk."

"A week?" I squeak. Surely I couldn't have been in that cell that long.

"Like I said, time's relative," Dante says, laying their hands gently on my face and forcing me to meet their eyes. "Alex. Concentrate. We gotta get the fuck outta here. You understand?"

I nod again. "Sure thing. Just lead the way, Cap'n."

Dante smiles, and the stretch of their dark lips and the sparkle in their eyes gives me more hope than I've had in a long time.

They take my hand and drag me out into the larger room. I see two guards slumped against the wall beside the door. One has dark skin, one light, and both are completely naked.

"It must've been a beast getting them out of these clothes," I say.

"Nah. They took them off before I knocked them out."

"What? Why?"

"Sex-demon charm, honey."

I pull at the crotch of my guard's uniform.

"Gross, Dante. Couldn't you have warned me?" I ask.

"Would you have put it on if I had?"

Fair point. "Still." I stare down at the naked guards, imagining all the Hellish STDs that might be crawling around near my junk at this very moment.

Dante snaps me out of it with a yank on my arm.

"Come on, fool. We got no damn time!"

Dante pulls me along by the hand, out into the corridor and down several flights of stairs. My heart's in my mouth the whole time, and I'm convinced that an alarm is going to go off at any second, or we'll run into a patrol of guards or something, but the hallways are all silent and empty.

Dante stops at the corner of a long hall and pulls out a crudely drawn map. I'm a little alarmed when they spend a few seconds looking at it before turning it the other way round.

"Are you sure you know where we're going?" I ask.

"Better than you do. It's just that the stupid demon who drew this thing could barely hold a crayon. You should see what passes for art down there."

They set off again at a jog, and I force myself to keep up.

I've experienced enough 'can't get out of this place' nightmares to recognize the feeling as we run through endless corridors and descend innumerable twisting stairways.

Eventually, it occurs to me that it's weird we haven't run into anyone else.

"This is...too easy," I gasp. "I mean...where is...everyone?"

"Probably busy with the distraction."

They've barely finished speaking when the sound of screams and shouts reach our ears.

"Is that the distraction?" I ask, glad that it at least seems to be coming from behind us.

"No," Dante says. "That's people getting eaten by the distraction."

"Oh. What is it?"

"Something Damien found in a pit and let out."

"Wait--is Damien here?" I ask again. I'm worried he's the kind of guy who would do something stupid, like take on Azael alone.

"I told you, no. He's waiting for us, but we have to hurry."

I've long since noticed that the undeniable trend is 'down-down-down,' when we reach a narrow stairway, barely wide enough for us to go single file and leading steeply into shadowy darkness.

I pause and try to catch my breath.

"Wait...where are we going?"

"A...friend...of Damien's from a lower hell showed us a way. It seems Azael's not very popular down there."

"So...we're escaping Hell...by going deeper into Hell?" I ask.

"Trust me, Alex. And move."

They give me a light push and I start the long scramble downward. The stairs become steeper the farther we go, and soon I have to turn around and descend them like a ladder. There's also less and less light, until I'm navigating almost entirely by feel and my muscles are quivering with fatigue by the time we reach the bottom.

I feel solid, level stone beneath my feet at last, and lean against the wall to rest. Dante reaches the bottom a second later and catches my hand.

"This way. We're almost there."

Dante strikes a match, and by its feeble glow, I see that we're in a chamber with a number of narrow openings along the curving wall. Dante counts them quickly before the match goes out, and pulls me towards one.

"Why'd you bring matches and not a flashlight?" I ask.

"For some reason, flashlights don't work in Hell," Dante says. "But matches do."

Probably because they're a pain in the ass and only stay lit long enough for you see what there is to be afraid of.

We follow a narrow, cave-like cleft with a downward slope, and eventually, I see light at the end of it. We step out onto the edge of a wide underground canyon straight out of Indiana Jones. It's lit by strange fires burning in stone bowls along its edges, but the depths are lost in shadow.

"What now?" I ask, looking around for an invisible bridge or something, but Dante is looking down into the pit.

"We jump," they say.

"Jump!? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"No. I told you--trust me."

Dante stands beside me, and we peer downward, side by side.

"Okay, okay," I take a deep breath. "I'll jump if you tell me to."

I close my eyes and prepare my heart for--well, I don't know what, except a long and terrifying fall. But Dante catches my arm.

"Not yet." They're looking down, searching for something in the shadowy abyss.

Then I hear the sound I've been dreading and expecting all along--running footsteps and loud shouts. A group of soldiers pours from the crack in the wall, heading straight for us, and Azael walks at their back.

"Okay, let's jump!" I lean forward but Dante still holds me back.

"No! Alex, not yet!"

The guards are almost on us when Dante finally gives the word.

"Now!"

A guard grabs for me, but Dante is faster.

They push me, and I fall--but not far.

In a rush of hot wind that smells like sulfur and ash, something with enormous wings catches me in arms like muscled tree trunks.

It's a demon. And not like me. I mean a real, depths-of-hell, gargoyle-faced, twisty-horned, cloven-hoofed demon. I'm sure whatever it is has a name, but I don't know it.

I look for another, one that must have Dante, but I don't see it. Then I look down and realize that Dante never jumped.

"Alex, don't look back!" they shout up at me, guards hanging off their arms. "Go!"

"Dante! No! NO--take me back! Take me back down there you stupid gargoyle!" I struggle in the brute's arms, but it just tightens its hold. I try to twist and scratch at it, although if it drops me I don't know what good I might do except maybe if I land on Azael.

"Take me back! Please! Please, I can't leave them!" I cry, but the beast doesn't listen and continues upwards on it's long, laborious course. As I struggle and sob, and beg it to bring me back, it squeezes me a little harder; and between the pressure on my lungs and the torment ripping up my heart, I can't get enough breath, and I pass out in its arms.