Subdued, bruised individuals gathered in the orange-lit sitting room. An inches-long vertical gash in front of Ghomarck's ear led the list of injuries, but even Dooch nursed a few contusions. Chantelle fed the wizard a goodberry, which staunched the flow of blood down the old man's cheek.

Tash rubbed a sore hip and sulked. I don't see how I could have predicted that, but I still feel like I should have.

Zorexis cleared his throat. "Your pardon, ladies and gentlemen, but I feel compelled to assert myself. The escape tunnel has collapsed due to a trap. Curse the yotches. Apparently, they anticipated the possibility of the furion's defeat. They laid in a goodly amount of felignite and some mechanism to spark it."

"Felignite?" Séa said.

Yeah. Felignite? The feck?

"An explosive whose secret of manufacture is a closely guarded Abyssal secret," Ghomarck rasped.

The incubus continued, "We have only one way out, now. I can command the wights to tolerate your presence, but I must do it alone. They must not see you or smell you." He lowered his head in submissive entreaty. "Please. Trust me that far."

"Nuh-uh," Séa growled. "Not happening."

Lemons soured the princess's voice. "Come now, lady knight. Enough is enough. Love has changed his heart. He wouldn't – couldn't – hurt me, and he won't hurt you, either. Isn't that right, Zorexis?"

The incubus laid an elegant hand on his chest and inclined his head in a solemn bow. "I wish harm to none. A clean escape is all I want. I think we're safe until we attempt to lower the drawbridge. The wight guarding the mechanism will tolerate our presence but will object if we touch it."

Tash's face scrunched. "Are these wights just fighters? No magic?"

"Yes," said Séa and Zorexis together. Their gazes met and silent tension quivered between them.

The rogue hooked thumbs in her belt. "Should be straightforward to take them out quietly." Undead or not, I've learned a bagful of nasty tricks over the years.

"Lady Séa," Chantelle said, "Surely, you can allow him to command the wights to stand down."

"No." The paladin spread her hands, palms up. No trace of anger colored her voice. She spoke as if she were a teacher whose pupil required patient review. "Demons are masters of deception. It's how they are built. I'm not guessing. I know Zorexis is lying and has been lying from the beginning."

Dark pink colored Chantelle's cheeks. "How can you possibly know that?"

Séa answered readily, "His master is Gluzzik, roach-king of Mulk, not B'Fadzh of Hachta as he claimed."

"Not so!" Zorexis protested. For the briefest moment, a tinge of red colored his eyes.

The paladin spoke over him. "Hachta, you see, is a relatively friendly plane. Planar travelers may pay a tax and stay there unmolested. The roach king, on the other hand, is mad for power, and mad especially for power on the material plane. Also, look here." Séa extracted a magic skeleton key from her belt and held it by its shaft. The whorls of metal traced out an insectoid shape.

"By the weave," gasped Ghomarck, "my eyes are opened. It's a cockroach, not a beetle."

"Pff." The incubus waved a dismissive hand.

Is it? I mean, is that really a stylized cockroach? Maybe. Tash kept her thumbs in her belt, but her eyes roved the room, scanning for more gems or bits of gold.

Séa folded her arms across her chest. "It is understandable that Zorexis, if that is his name, wishes to downplay the seriousness of this little invasion. We have already established that King Pharing is the real target of this ploy. Whatever trick the demons have concocted will not go well for our monarch. Also, they wouldn't target a king without also targeting his kingdom. The entire kingdom of Omnius is at risk." Séa inhaled deeply, then huffed air through her nose. "There you have it. I didn't really want to say it all in front of the demon, but there it is. What's done is done."

Dooch blinked overlarge eyelids. Zorexis stood still, hands clasped in contrition.

"I don't believe it," Chantelle said.

The paladin sighed. Her eyes lowered. "Was afraid you wouldn't. But I'm not lying."

The wizard sat slumped on the settee. His eyes opened halfway. "The longer we wait, the weaker we become." As if to prove his point, his eyelids fluttered closed again.

Dooch croaked, "He means you don't really have a choice, unless you're ready to fight every wight at once. And probably the guardian, too."

The demons are really selling this. I think they really want out of here.

"Please allow me," Zorexis said, "to demonstrate my good intentions, and at the same time pay off some of my debt of gratitude. You did, after all, bravely penetrate Buzzard Keep. You have come within a hair's breadth of accomplishing your goal of rescue. I also noticed that you have respected the woman I cherish. I wish to reward you."

"Don't even," Séa grumbled.

Zorexis smiled, a dazzling experience unto itself. "Allow me to rephrase. I will reward you. A sack of treasure for dashing Tash, and a map of the current location of the Crusade's launching point for our dauntless demon hunter Séa."

A sack of treasure? Tash said, "You're on. Show me the money."

Séa's shoulders slumped.

She's sure they're scheming.

Well, so am I, but I think they're scheming for our temporary benefit. But she's sure ... and now I'm doubting myself.

Dooch crouched to one side of Séa. Long, lumpy fingers wrapped around the knee joint of her left side greave. No hums or smells accompanied the transformational magic the demon employed. At times, a faint glow appeared at the spot, like forge-heated steel. The most reliable indicator of progress is that Dooch's overlarge eyes would close in dreamy concentration. Apparently, whatever the toady demon imagined came to pass beneath his mottled hands.

"Here I am," the paladin murmured, "accepting help from my sworn enemy. Torugg must think I've been smoking mushrooms. Father Kay would kick me out of class."

"Swing your leg. How's that?" Dooch rasped.

"Good. I can swing it all the way back."

"Nice, nice, nice. Now let me get the rust off your mace."

"Eh? Oh, all right."

The short creature cradled the vaned head of the weapon in his hands without even bothering to remove it from Séa's belt.

Séa continued her soliloquy as if uninterrupted. "Furthermore, I'm not paying you or anything. It's like you're a smith from the Crusade. They just fix whatever needs fixing. They're part of the larger effort. But you're not. You're a demon. Does that mean I'm enslaving you? If so, I'm a really horrible person."

"I'm still hoping for a thank you fuck."

Séa's brows knit, and her mouth tightened to a flat, compressed line. "Hope away."

"Maybe suck my li'l Dooch 'til I sploot?"

"I—" Her hands groped as if attempting to catch words from the very air, then balled into fists. "Cancel all the sympathetic things I just said, demon. Are you finished? Can we leave?"

A/N: