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Chapter 14: Inside Man

"Tuco?" A voice called from the Void. Tuco turned and saw no one. The few boulders that dotted the island had been too small to conceal anyone, and now absolute darkness engulfed him, impenetrable even to his devil eyes.

He stood, puzzled, pacing toward the middle of the small island. Rocks cracked to dirt under his heavy feet. "Who is it?" he called. "Who's there?"

"Tuco, my dear boy. What on earth has happened to you? How could you have ended up here?"

The voice was coming from above him. He looked up and saw, in a halo of glowing light, descending out of the darkness on a fine line of silk, the body of an enormous spider, and where its head should be, the upper body of a man, one he'd seen long before. He stared in amazement.

"Lord Krastor?"

Long, thin legs unfolded and delicately gripped the ground. "Please. I think we can dispense with the title now that we've both ended up here." His mandibled jaws split in what might have been a rueful grin. "My estate is long gone, and the royalty who granted it know no sway here."

"I am glad to see you," Tuco said earnestly, "even in so wretched a place. But how did you recognize me? And whence this light that surrounds you?"

"The light? An enchantment I secreted into this place. I feared for some time that Brother Gabriel might turn his judgments against me and the mission of the Brothers here. He made little secret of his distaste for us and our methods, and long had I suspected he might find reason to condemn me. But I have visited the Void many times, and well do I know the enchantments that can make light here, as well as those methods that keep the Warden at bay. I made certain to keep them on me at all times."

"And they didn't find them while searching you?" Tuco asked, feeling stupid even as the words left his lips. Of course they hadn't.

But Krastor only smiled, or seemed to-his expressions were difficult to read. "For some reason, the Brothers seemed reluctant to conduct too... thorough a search." And he shuffled all eight legs, the great bulbous abdomen behind him pulsing. "Being a monster does have some advantages, does it not? As to how I recognized you, you forget." He closed four of his eyes, leaving only the inner ones open, pools of black onyx shining at Tuco. "I see the past. Still within you I see the boy you were. So small and vulnerable, and yet so curious, so fearless. I admired it then. Although, had I known the fate which would befall you, perhaps I would have warned you away." The other eyes opened. "And then, perhaps not."

"I know I've done terrible things," Tuco said in a low voice. "I never meant to, but they happened anyway. My powers have hurt people. Or at least... drawn the attention of devils who hurt them, sometimes through me. I wish it needn't have happened. Perhaps it's right that I am imprisoned here, where I can do no harm."

Krastor gazed at him a long while, until Tuco grew uncomfortable under the six-eyed stare. "Some of your past I see, though it makes little sense to me. Visions of devils and changes and strange vistas. And more than a little lust. But I see little harm in you, and I hear none in your voice. Devil you may resemble, but no devil I know of feels remorse or regret. Your heart beats human in my ears, Tuco. And as to your future... that would appear far from set."

Tuco looked up. "But I thought you couldn't see much of the future of mortals. Because of-of free will and all that?"

"That is usually true. But Tuco, here you are, seeming to be trapped in an inescapable prison for all eternity. And yet your future is still indistinct to me, a blur of many possible outcomes. How could that be if you are truly trapped? How could many futures exist for you if there were no escape from the Void?" Krastor backed away a few skittering steps, and drew his high-jointed legs closer to his arachnid body. And Tuco tasted in the air a scent of fear, of a desire for security.

"What is it, Lord Krastor?" he asked, his tail swaying with unease as he stepped forward.

The spider-creature scrambled backward further. "It doesn't make... I-I shouldn't say," he stammered.

"Please, if it is my own future, some destiny that awaits me, haven't I the right to hear it?"

"Speaking futures can alter them."

Tuco frowned. "And for some reason, you fear altering mine. But why could you fear changing my future so much? It must mean that something I do, some choice I make, is important. Important enough that it frightens you. It's about the Apocalypse, isn't it?"

Krastor breathed in sharply. He opened his mouth as if to deny it, and then his lean shoulders slumped. Only now Tuco noticed that the fine violet coat he wore had gone shabby and torn. "We all have choices to make, Tuco. Choices that affect the fate of our souls, and those that affect others. I see possible futures for you that are beyond my imagining. But whether they are good or ill, I dare not guess. But let us not fret about futures. I have seen some of what has happened to you, but I would hear it all, if you would share it."

Tuco thought of everything that he had done over the past few months, the choices he'd made, the devils he had bargained with, the powers and provinces he'd inherited, the changes, willingly or no, that he'd caused in others, and most terrible of all, the souls from his voidsea that had been taken from him and destroyed. How could he share all of this with someone so righteous and imposing as Lord Krastor, in this dark space beyond time and place? "I don't know," he said uncertainly.

The old monk smiled fondly. "Come now, Master Witchywine. Confession is good for the soul. And what else have we to spend our time on?"

And so, reluctantly at first, but with gathering enthusiasm for the tale, Tuco recounted all that had transpired since the night of the ritual, when Brother Melvin had unwisely summoned the Prince of Lies himself, Sathanus, and both of them had been destroyed by the badly performed ritual. Krastor listened with sympathy and interest to Tuco's recounting of how his horns had grown, and how he had encountered first the devil Belzebub, who had given Tuco fangs that could bite through any material and a throat to consume it, and how he had consumed that devil entirely. Then it had been Belphegor, Lord of Sloth, who had cursed Tuco with a strength that overwhelmed his physical form. Only after defeating Belphegor with his own idleness had Tuco made the acquaintance of his little imp, Hob, who had freed Tuco from immobility with an increase in height. Then the Knight of the Abyss, the incubus Asmodeus, had transformed Tuco into an incubus like himself, and Tuco had become consumed with lust, beginning to devour the souls of his friends, as well as those of the Brothers and apprentices of the Abbey, whether he wished to or not.

Here Krastor raised a chitinous brow. "Ahh, so that is why I awakened that night, overwhelmed with lust like an adolescent. And that means, too, that part of my soul is yours, you say? How interesting. I trust you will care well for it in the afterlife."

"You are not angry?" Tuco asked in surprise. "I just told you that you won't be going to Paradise."

"Oh, Tuco. Long have I suspected that Paradise was not in store for any of us. We regard it as our sacred duty to risk our own souls to avert damnation for the rest of the world. The news that I am to be in the care of someone like you in the Abyss rather than that of Sathanus gives me a sense of great relief, not dread."

Krastor was also surprised when Tuco recounted his tale of how he had defeated Asmodeus by tricking him into gazing on the countenance of Elf, the impossibly beautiful apprentice who had to be sequestered in the private quarters of the apprentice hall. "Curious," he said. "I know of no apprentice of such a name. I had heard rumors of one young man afflicted so, but thought them spurious. We do try to keep close records of the changes experienced by our apprentices, lest any of them become dangerous. Yes, lad, even yours, up to the point I was incarcerated, at least. But I am gratified to hear of so sinister a personage as Asmodeus having been defeated. It seems as though you have been decimating the generals of Hell! How unlikely! How interesting."

Tuco then recounted his imprisonment by Baronet Flavros, and how he had escaped through his friends summoning him with his own blood, and Flavros himself had been torn apart by his own prisoners when the walls of E-Temen-Anki fell. He told of Brother Gabriel's growing tyranny over the Abbey, and how he had been forced to flee to the Abyss to hide from that too-righteous persecution, and had inherited the estates and souls of Sathanus. The visit by Baron Mammon, initially so frightening, had greatly interested Brother Krastor, as had Tuco's description of the voidsea of souls and how they were used to fuel diabolical power, and Tuco's ability to assign those souls to afterlives of his own devising. And his interest only grew when Tuco told of being summoned by the foolhardy Brother Pellinore.

"Hold a moment in your tale, if you would. You said that Brother Pellinore summoned you using a ritual from hundreds of years ago?"

"Yes."

Krastor frowned. "But how can that be possible? There is so much here that is new. The Scriptures tell us little of the devil world-other than what we have gleaned from the devils we have summoned and other, oftentimes unreliable, ancient Sumerian and Babylonian writings, we have learned very little of the Abyss and the world the devils and demons occupy. We cannot ignore the possibility that all of this is some masterly fiendish deception by Lucifer and his courtiers, but if not... if not..." He ran his fingers through his thinning hair. "Tuco, the Apocalypse indeed must be closer than any of us feared. And yet I cannot make these pieces fit. You, wielding the logos of Sathanus and a massive hoard of souls, changing every day into something great and terrible, and invisible to the Gasen the Abbey uses to guard itself. This ancient ritual that summoned you back to the Abbey, a ritual with your own name in Latin? Though to my knowledge, you appear in no prophecies or writings from the past-where could Brother Pellinore have found it? And it named you as Sathanus? I confess, it makes little sense to me. We see the gears in motion, but not the mechanism they turn."

Tuco sighed. "I don't have any answers, and it's me it's happening to. But Krastor, I think I might know how I am to escape. Surely another devil will come to tempt or manipulate me soon. A devil of beauty, however that might happen. To gain possession of my souls, they'll have to remove me from the Void somehow. If I do escape, and manage to get free of this next devil, I must return here and save you! You and other Brothers and apprentices who have been unjustly trapped here. How might I do so?"

Krastor gave him a rueful smile. "Master Witchywine, no devil may enter here. I see in your future that escape must be possible, but it will not be by infernal incursion. Yet your valiance is a balm to my heart. Strange to see such goodness in so fearsome a visage. I will tell you. If you can find the library, my secrets are there."

"In a hidden passage?" Tuco asked with some excitement. "Revealed only by pulling upon the right book?"

Krastor chuckled. "No, my boy. I am a spider. How on earth would I construct a hidden passage? No, if you wish to find how to safely navigate the Void and free its prisoners, you will need to reach the ceiling."

---

Time did not pass in the Void. The darkness never altered in its completeness; the silence never grew less stifling. Tuco never became more hungry or more tired. His arms and wings remained bound in the steel, rune-inscribed cuffs, and Krastor could offer no suggestions as to how they might be removed without the key, but Tuco's arms never grew cramped or constricted. It might have been a mercy if they had. With nothing at all changing around them, he found it impossible to know whether he had been there hours, days, or even weeks. Neither he nor Krastor slept; they simply continued. Time dilated into an infinity, and that became a torment greater than any he could have imagined.

To combat the tedium, Tuco collected small pebbles from around the island and scored them with his talons. He played games of draughts and nine men's morris with Krastor, and then Krastor taught him chess, and he began to try to learn that, though the myriad complex rules bewildered him. And yet when his concentration for that waned, he did not know how much time might have passed in the Abbey, nor how his friends fared.

He and Krastor told each other tales, and he learned much about the mission of the Abbey and the demons and devils they had summoned. He learned of the more dangerous prisoners in the Void, and why they had been secured, and expressed his opinion that however treacherous and homicidal they might have become, the infinite tedium of the Void was an unjust punishment. Even the Warden, he opined, did not deserve imprisonment here. And Krastor told him how the Warden was something else, no transformed human, nor devil, but believed to be one of the terrible creatures that existed outside of all Creation, drawn to their portal to the mortal world as a moth to a candle flame.

The Warden itself was their only punctuation in the eternal darkness of the Void, the sanity-chafing buzz of its horrid wings occasionally nearing in the inky nothing, and at these times both Tuco and Krastor would lie on the island floor, faces down so as not to risk any possible sensory encounter with the dreadful creature. Soon they learned to cover their heads with loose earth and stones to further insulate themselves against its maddening thrum.

The infinite began to take its toll on both of them. Krastor broke first, for he had been imprisoned far longer than Tuco. At times he began speaking to people not there, at others raving at the sunless sky, or accusing Tuco of impossible crimes. Other times he would simply sob uncontrollably, tears streaming from all six eyes. In every case, he recovered after a while, but it seemed to Tuco that the fits were happening more and more frequently. Krastor seemed ashamed by his cracking sanity, but acknowledged that this was to be expected in such a place. The games seemed to help him hold onto reality, such as it was, and Tuco engaged him whenever he could, for as long as he could maintain focus.

Soon, however, Tuco found himself holding conversations with friends and family-at first imaginary, something to pass the time, something to remember them, but after several of these, they began to occupy another part of his mind, seeming different from himself, and then he felt he could truly hear their voices penetrating the silence, and almost see their forms wavering in the endless darkness. He had to remind himself repeatedly that they were only his imagination, and that he mustn't let his grasp of reality slip. Sometimes he found himself shouting at them to go away and leave him alone, and then pleading with them to come back. More often he wept in loneliness and despair.

It was in one of these fits of sobbing, when Tuco began to feel that he would never again find his way back to sanity, back to himself, that Krastor came to him. He put his narrow arms around Tuco and held him as Tuco convulsed in his embrace. His voice was low and soothing. "It is all right, Tuco. It is all right. It will not be forever."

"You can't know," Tuco wept. "You can't know. There is no way out of here."

"But there is, Tuco. Don't forget. I have seen futures for you. Even now when I look at you, it is nearly all I see. You will not remain here."

Tuco tried to control the harrying spirals of his terrified mind, but it slipped away like soup through a basket. "You tell me lies to comfort me."

"No, no," Krastor said in urgent tones. "I do not lie to you, Master Witchywine."

The words swirled in Tuco's mind like lighthouse beams, the hope they offered dazzling him, then turning away into the darkness to warn salvation away from his island. He clutched at them, and then as he did so, he heard another voice, ringing in his head. It was Pike's voice, as clear as if speaking into his ear, far louder and more real than any of his previous imaginings.

"Tuco. Tuco, I call out to you."

Tuco knew the truth then: his sanity was in shreds, and he could not keep the tattered pieces together. "I can feel myself going, Lord Krastor. I cannot hold on anymore. I'm slipping away."

"Tuco, I offer myself to you," Pike's voice said. It was loud, so loud, cutting through the silence of the Void like a hot needle dropped into snow. "Body and soul, I give myself to you."

"No," said Krastor. "No, you're not slipping away. You're here with me still. You can... you can..." His voice trailed into silence. "Tuco?"

Tuco looked up, wiping tears from his face with his tail. The world around him, already dark, now had begun to appear dim and indistinct. He glanced toward Krastor and saw that the monk spider himself also appeared blurred, a bewildered expression on his six-eyed face. "What's-what's happening?" he asked the indistinct figure.

"I'm not certain," Krastor said, and his voice sounded oddly distant.

Also distant: a strange clanking sound. Another. And abruptly Tuco's arms were free again; his wings could unfurl. The steel cuffs had fallen away. Puzzled, he stood, and the ground seemed impossibly far away. Was he flying?

Pike's voice spoke again, and Tuco felt his lips move, his tongue curl to form the words. "I take you into myself. Possess me, oh Devil of the Abyss, and in return I grant you all of me."

"Tuco!" Krastor's voice came from far away now. "Don't-don't leave me down here! Don't forget about me! Please! Remember!"

And then his voice was gone, and he was gone, and Tuco felt something change.

He was sitting on a stone floor, in a room that reeked of sex. His skin felt odd, and his limbs were not thick, restricted, and powerful as he remembered. He could not feel the sway of his tail, the weight of his wings on his back, the weight of his horns. He felt lust like a need, his body parched for sex. He opened his eyes and for a moment thought nothing had changed, for he saw only darkness. But this was not the darkness of the Void; this was ordinary darkness, that of a room at night. He had no devil eyes to penetrate it.

Squinting in the low light, he looked down. From under the door, the faintest of flame lit the floor. Tuco tried to get to his feet and nearly fell; his knees were stiff as though he had been sitting for a long time. His breath came in rapid pants, and his heart beat so fast it seemed almost a hum. His ears twitched. Everything around him sounded like a threat, sending spasms of fear through him. His steps to the door felt strange, as though he were walking across thick carpets. He opened the door and the light of a single, low-burning torch fell across him.

He looked down to see apprentice robes. Opening them, he saw that his chest was lean and narrow, covered with thick, white fur. His arms were thin and furred in cream colors, his fingers stubby and tipped with blunt, white claws. These were Pike's hands.

Somehow he had escaped the Void. And somehow, he had become Pike.

---

"Pike?" a small voice piped up from behind him. "It didn't work?"

Tuco turned and squinted into the dark of the room. "Etreon?"

He heard a flutter of wings, and then a squeak as something metal turned, and then a candle lit nearby, illuminating the room. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. For a moment, he didn't recognize where in the Abbey he was. He looked at the enormous spread of pallets and blankets, the giant set of robes laid out nearby. He wrinkled his nose at the intense scent of male, his whiskers twitching. It was his room in the Abbey... but so much larger. What had seemed a cozy little bedroom before proved to be sizable quarters. He could still see the imprint his devil body had left in the bedding, and developed a whole new appreciation for his size. In the form he was in now, he could easily have curled up in the indentation left by one leg. He felt his ears fold back.

Etreon hovered before him on golden-scaled wings, looking woebegone. "I so hoped it would work. Hob was certain."

At the mention of his name, the coal-black little imp fluttered over. "Yes! Hob still is certain! The master possesses Pike's body! We have succeeded!"

Tuco jumped backward and fell when he landed, the leap much lighter and springier than he had expected. He caught himself on the heels of his hands-paws, he reminded himself. "What do you mean, I'm possessing Pike? What is happening?"

Etreon danced in the air with glee, pumping his little golden-scaled arms and legs. "It worked! It worked! You're free!"

Hob cleared his throat and looked serious. "Hob and the master's minions spent long times trying to think how to free Baron Witchywine, but could think of nothing, until Pike had the idea. If devils could possess people from the Abyss, then perhaps the master could possess one of us. Pike volunteered, and Hob told him just how to call out to a devil and ask for possession. And here the master is, just as all had hoped! Pike has freed you, master! With Hob's help, of course."

Tuco rubbed at his face, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of a muzzle pushing out his fingers, the short, soft fur threading between them. "But-but what has happened to Pike? Is he all right?"

"Yes, master. Pike slumbers inside you. When you leave his body, he will reawaken with no harm."

"And how do I do that? Will I go back to the Throat if I do?"

"To leave the body, the master must simply will it. Like imagining a tunnel and walking through it, Hob has heard. Imps cannot possess like devils can. And yes, leaving a possession sends a devil right back where he was."

"But we've a way around that," Etreon put in hurriedly. "Now that you're not in the Throat, we ought to be able to summon you. That will pull you out of Pike's body and back into the, er, real world."

"Then we must do it as soon as we can! Do you have everything you require?"

"We do, but, er... Pike-I mean Tuco... this is an opportunity, isn't it?"

"An opportunity for what?" Tuco asked uneasily, hoping that Etreon didn't mean sex. Now was not the time, not with Krastor and others languishing in that terrible prison. Besides which, using Pike's body for that without his consent would be an unforgivable violation.

"Well, think about it. You can't walk down the halls as yourself. You're practically the number one devil here, and everyone knows what you look like. But right now you just look like Pike. So if there's anything that you need to do..."

Tuco's mind raced. He was right. If ever there was a chance to gather the resources they needed to defeat the Warden and open the prison of the Throat, this was it. They might not have a better moment. For the first time in ages, he felt a surge of hope. They could do it. They could free the prisoners, free Krastor and the other Brothers who had sided with him, and oust Brother Gabriel once and for all.

"I know what we need to do," he said. "But we need to get to the library, and we still have no idea how to get in."

"Oh yes we do!" Etreon chirped happily, showing little fangs as he beamed. "I found it! I found the way!"

---

They stopped Tuco before rounding the corner of the hallway. "No farther than this," Etreon said, his little wings a blur as he hovered in front of Tuco.

"But doesn't this corridor just lead to the Brothers' cloister?" Tuco asked, standing up on his furry toes. He wasn't quite sure; being this small addled his sense of direction. The corridors looked so long and spacious. He peered up at the Gasen, the gazer statues crouched above the hallway at regular intervals, and wondered who had carved all the crouched, muscular gargoyle creatures and why they had gone to such detail. There must be hundreds of the things situated throughout the Abbey, spying on every person who passed beneath, coming to life and screaming if they witnessed a demon or devil passing beneath them. Tuco had been afraid to step past them while wearing Pike's body, half-certain one would immediately scream out its deafening alarm-but to his relief, their stone visages remained unmoving, their voices silent.

"Normally yes," Etreon answered. "But I watched one of the Brothers doing this-he looked all around to be certain he wasn't being watched, but I was crawling along the ceiling and he couldn't see me."

Tuco blinked at the statement. At one time, it would have sounded odd, but now they were all creatures of the darkness, it seemed.

"Now turn around," Etreon instructed him. "And walk backward around the corner. Keep your eyes forward. Don't look over your shoulder."

Puzzled, Tuco obeyed. He shuffled awkwardly around the corner with backward steps, looking down his furred chest to watch his furry paws past the jut of his erection. It wo,uld not go down, would not even bob, as insistent and unmoving as a prong of iron. Already once the lust had risen in him and dropped him to his knees, making him moan and pant as, unbidden, orgasm broke and he painted the floor with a puddle of come. He could tell it would not be too long before the need overtook him again, and all he wanted was to snatch Etreon out of the air and impale him on his dick until the little imp was drooling his come. He had to keep reminding himself that the prisoners were in the Void, suffering, and that this wasn't his body to use without consent.

His heel scuffed against the stone floor, sending him stumbling a little. "Can I look yet?" he asked Etreon, and noted that the imp was flying backward, his gaze turned straight ahead. Hob, too, fluttered around Etreon's shoulder, also flying backward.

"No, Tuco, please, go all the way down the hall like that. You'll see."

So Tuco continued, passing familiar doors and the exit to the courtyard where he had moved stones, what seemed now a lifetime ago. And suddenly, his heels bumped against stone steps, and he teetered backward, catching himself on a staircase with his palms. Without thinking, he turned and saw, much to his surprise, the staircase to the library door. "But-but how? It can't have been here the whole time."

Etreon was grinning from ear to batlike ear. "It was! But it only shows up if you're turned around until you're right up on it. It's another enchantment. It means-"

"That you can only find it if you aren't looking for it," Tuco breathed. "That's incredible, Etreon. Well done."

Etreon grinned, if possible, even wider, his head looking about to split into a set of fangs. "Thanks, Tuco!"

Tuco noted Etreon hadn't been using his pet name for him, Alkeides, but he supposed that in Pike's body, he didn't much resemble the musclebound hero of legend. He climbed the steps to the door and put his hand against it. "Can we just go in?" he asked, and then he noticed that the lock had been jimmied, the wood splintered all around it. "I suppose Brother Gabriel didn't have the key."

He pushed the door open and stepped into the room, looking around in dismay. It had been ransacked. Books lay strewn across the floor in haphazard piles. Tomes had been pulled from the shelves, scrolls were in partly trampled heaps. Some books clearly had had pages torn from them, and in a soot-blackened tin pail to one side of the room, papers had clearly been burned. "Oh no," he breathed. "Why would anyone have done this?" But of course he knew the answer: Brother Gabriel would have no compunction against destroying knowledge he considered heretical. He and his monks had doubtless been searching for Lord Krastor's secrets.

Fortunately, it seemed their search had not included the use of ladders, for the shelves higher-up appeared relatively untouched. The stacks extended into darkness that Pike's eyes could not penetrate. Which meant that Lord Krastor's secrets were likely still safe.

Hob flapped in behind Tuco and settled on his shoulder. Tuco grunted and had to lean a bit-the imp was surprisingly heavy for his size. Tuco gazed up the endless shelves of books. No steps or rungs led up them. Much of the library was reachable only by spider. Or by someone with wings.

"Hob, Etreon. Lord Krastor said he kept his secrets on the ceiling. Could you fly and search up there? There should be information on how we can free him from the Throat."

"Of course!" "Yes, Master!" Etreon and Hob spoke at the same time and then glanced at each other.

"I'm going to find it faster," Etreon announced, and took off toward the ceiling as though from a slingshot.

"No! Hob will find it!" Hob hissed, winging after him as fast as he could.

Tuco smiled and shook his head as their retorts retreated above him-though his hypersensitive ears could still make out every word and wingbeat. He leaned against a shelf and waited through their search, with little to do but think about his arousal and wondering what kind of book was the most fuckable. He sighed. Poor Pike. How did he deal with this all the time? Tuco would have to fuck him much more regularly once they were all safe again.

After several minutes, there was some excited chatter between the two, and then Etreon made his way back down toward Tuco, struggling with the weight of a travel case. "This was hidden up behind a loose board in the ceiling!" He grunted as he set it down with a thump, rubbing at his thin arms. Together, they untied the leather bindings and opened the case, which proved to contain one large book, a few thin ones, and a number of sheets of vellum, some looking rather old and official, and others looking more recent, with notes inked in a script that could only be described as "spidery."

"This must be it," Tuco exclaimed. "But we daren't read through these here. Supposing someone comes in and finds us? They could take what we found. We'd better go down to the watch room in the Throat."

"We can try," Etreon said doubtfully. "But every time we've gone that way, it's been guarded."

"Well, perhaps we'll get lucky. Can you find Braxus and meet me at the stairway?"

Etreon agreed to do so, and Tuco collected the papers and books into a stack, hoping it wouldn't look too suspicious. It wasn't unusual to see apprentices carrying books throughout the Abbey. Cautiously, they exited the library and made their way back down the hallway. Just before turning the corner, Tuco looked over his shoulder. The library door was still there. He walked around the corner and then leaned back to look again. Gone. In its place, the hallway to the Brothers' secondary cloister.

Etreon and Hob zipped off toward the apprentice dorms, while Tuco made his way toward the stairwell. Several feet before turning the corner, Pike's sensitive ears picked up the breathing and muttering of Brother Herodotus, one of the hulking goons who'd dragged him down the stairs of the Throat, lurking in the stairwell hallway, quarterstaff in one hand. The noise of the danger he posed was intense: a sort of friction in the air, a crackle and low hum that made Tuco's gut clench instinctively. "Unlucky," he muttered. "How on earth will we get past him?" He waited a bit to see if the monk was likely to move on, but no, the man was clearly posted to guard the stairwell, and standing in such a way that he could watch for people exiting or entering.

Well, there was nothing for it, he supposed, but to head down the hallway and see if Brother Herodotus would let him by. Trying to look casual and non-chalant, he stepped around the corner and walked toward Brother Herodotus. The monk, huge, a shiny, black beetle-like carapace under his cloak, regarded his approach with a narrow-eyed scowl.

"If yer goin' upstairs, use one of the other steps. This one's off-limits to everyone. Especially you, devil-lover."

"But can't I just-" Tuco began, and then he felt the prickle of fur bristling across his neck and shoulders as the huge monk shifted. His ears picked up the sound of Brother Herodotus's heart beating more intensely, his veins pounding as the man considered violence.

"Go on. Try the stairs. See what happens."

Tuco hadn't been loomed over like this in a long time. The man's physical presence and barely restrained power was self-evident. He took several uneasy steps back, and then heard the flutter of wings and panting from three muzzles. He looked back and saw an enormous, three-headed wolf creature coming around the corner. For a moment he didn't recognize him, and then, "Braxus?" he spluttered in astonishment. He chided himself mentally for not recalling earlier that, in the last moments before Brother Gabriel had struck him unconscious, his infernal presence had warped his faithful friend into... something. Now he knew what, and felt shamed at not having recalled that those close to him had been afflicted too. The six-limbed wolf padded down the hallway, Etreon perched, glittering, on one broad shoulder.

"Well, well," sneered Brother Herodotus. "The entire Devil's Court arrives. Up to no good, we can be sure of that, can't we? And just where do you think you're going, eh? Down to the Throat to try to rescue your dark master? It's no good. No one who gets put in there ever comes out. Ever," he repeated, thumping the butt of his staff against the floor.

"If only you knew," Tuco muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" The monk leaned down, his puffy, red face leaning into Tuco's, his breath reeking of bread and beer.

Tuco folded his ears back. "I didn't sssay anything."

Brother Herodotus straightened, looking puzzled. "Right. That's right. Coneys like you know to keep yer gobs shut, don't you? I was just... remindin' you of that. To shut it."

Devil's-tongue! Even possessing Pike's body, he still had his devil's-tongue! And perhaps other powers as well! And while he reminded himself that it was wrong to muddle the minds of men, it was a small sin compared to that of leaving Brother Krastor and all those other prisoners in the Throat.

"Although in point of fact," he added, clearing his throat. "Brother Gabriel did sssay that you were to let usss down the ssstairs. And you sssaid you would, didn't you? You'd let usss down? And not mention to anyone that you sssaw usss?"

The huge monk wrinkled his bulbous nose. "That's right," he said slowly. "He said you was to go down. And I was to let you by. Quiet-like." There was a fractured look in his eyes, as though two sides of his mind were at war with each other. He took a few shuffling steps back against the wall. "Go on, then. Go on down. You probably don't even know why you're to go down there, do you?"

"Haven't the faintest idea," Tuco said, stepping quickly past him. The sound of danger radiating from Brother Herodotus had diminished somewhat: he was still a threat, but intended no immediate harm. Braxus and Etreon followed behind as Tuco flattened himself against the wall to squeeze past the devil's trap still chalked into the passageway-something he'd never have been able to do at his normal size.

But the words that followed him down the steps sent chills down his spine: "Another thing I ain't supposed to say. But let's just say that all you devil-lovers won't need fresh linens on your beds tomorrow morning."

Brother Herodotus's low, cruel chuckle followed them as they made their way down the stairs of the Throat. The meaning could not have been more clear. If Tuco didn't free Lord Krastor-if they could not end Brother Gabriel's reign by the end of the night-they would never get another chance.

---

After rainy rooftops and corrupted landscapes and finally the terrible emptiness of the Void, the watch room in the Throat offered almost palatial comfort by compare. The room was as he had left it last, refurbished by Hob into comfortable quarters that were cozy, pleasant-scented, and inviting. And best of all, the dull throb of danger from Pike's enchanted ears diminished into a barely heard whisper. This room was safe and welcoming. Tuco sighed as his toes sank into the thick, warm carpet. He wished he could sprawl out on the enormous, plush bed and sleep for a week. But Lord Krastor and the other prisoners were suffering immensely in the Void, and Tuco could not forget the sense of despair and madness that had overtaken him there. Quickly he beckoned the others over to the desk as he set down the books and scrolls they had recovered from Lord Krastor's secret trove.

"Braxus, Etreon, could you help me look through these?" he asked, fighting embarrassment. "I can read, but I'm not terribly practiced at it, and we haven't much time."

"Of course. I can read three times as fast as before!" Braxus's right head declared. "But what would we be looking for?" the left asked him.

Tuco peered at him. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have three heads. And decided he'd better not, in case any demon or devil decided to indulge his curiosity. "Anything about how to break the walls in the Void. It was full of all these islands, and no one on the islands can leave. Some invisible wall prevents it. We need to learn how to break that wall. And there's a" -he shuddered at the memory, fear and disgust ratcheting through him- "a Thing in there. Some kind of sentinel. When it looks at you, you go mad. We need a way to stop it. Avoid it, distract it, maybe even destroy it."

"If it's in these writings, we'll find it," Etreon promised him.

"Hob will assist too," the little imp announced.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I just need to, er, step outside for a moment." Tuco left them behind, sidling out into the chill, damp, mildewed hallway and closing the door. Then he braced one paw against the tunnel wall and tried not to buckle as Pike's ever-present lust rose in him again. The pleasure of incipient climax had been building steadily all the way down the steps, and he found himself strangely averse to letting the others see him overwhelmed by it. Perhaps it was a little bit of devil pride: he was an incubus, a master of lust, not one to be controlled by it. But now he could do nothing as Pike's cock began flexing harder and harder, and then pleasure and relief flushed hot through his body and mind as come jetted from his loins and drooled down the cavern wall in long, dangling threads. Panting, he absently hefted his dick and licked his fingers clean. Even still, the sense of need seemed barely diminished. Poor Pike.

Tuco slipped back inside the room, where Hob and his two friends were still poring over the material-he'd only been outside for a couple of minutes. He helped himself to a few pastries from the dining table and settled down onto a sofa, letting his mind drift into blessed comfort for a little while.

He awoke to Etreon's hand on his knee and realized he'd nodded off for a bit. "Hi. Yes?"

"Well, we think we have found what you'll need to free people." Etreon lifted his other hand and held out two items. One appeared to be a strange, black rock with a hole in one end, through which a fine silver chain had been threaded. The other was a peculiar device that looked like two golden, pointed rods connected at one end by a round hinge. "These were secreted in the back of the tome. The pages were blank and cut out to conceal them."

"What are they?" Tuco asked, taking them gingerly.

"The bit of rock is an enchanted lodestone. If you hold it out, it should tug gently toward inhabited islands. It seeks out the barrier spells, you see. The empty ones haven't got the spells up. So any direction it pulls will take you to some imprisoned person. And if you know who you're looking for, you say their name, and the stone will draw you there. The other thing is a kind of golden compass. It's used for drawing circles, but this one will break the barrier spells. You just open it up, put one point against one of these invisible walls when you find one, and turn it to draw a circle. When you make a complete one, the barrier should break."

"That's wonderful. And what about the guardian down there? The Warden?"

Braxus shook all three heads. "That's the bad news. No one's certain what it is. Some old scholar thought it was from the Almighty's first attempts at Creation. And it didn't come out right, so He left it behind in the Void. But no one's been able to harm it, and those who tried went mad. So mad that they... that they..." His left head whined. "Well, they're not alive anymore. That's all."

Tuco nodded grimly. If what he'd experienced when the thing's gaze had fallen upon him was typical, then death would be not only an inevitability, but a mercy. "So the only thing to do is avoid it?"

"Well, you don't look at it," the right head said wryly. "And you can try to keep it away with strong smells. Citronella, mint, things like that. It doesn't like those much. But it will still come flying in if it hears you. It's drawn to sound."

"I gathered that much," Tuco answered. "The brothers had flasks of something that they used to ward it off, though they didn't work very well. I daresay we could make more of it here with food supplies, if Hob can change what the dining table offers."

"Just tell Hob what you need!" Hob said cheerfully.

Braxus looked less optimistic, his ears folded back. "Pike-I mean, Tuco," his left head said, dipping down. "It's so dangerous. Do you really have to go?"

Tuco had been asking himself the same question ever since he'd returned. The Void was the most terrible place he'd ever been, and the madness inflicted upon him by its Warden was a hellish nightmare. He thought he could barely drag himself over that dread portal into the prison again. But he couldn't leave others there. Not in that wretched existence. No one, not the most evil person who had ever lived, deserved an eternity of that.

"I have to," he said with a shiver of dread. "But now you know. If I don't come back, you can call me again. Get me to possess one of you, if... if you don't mind doing so. And now we had better go. Who knows but that Brother Gabriel is already bringing another poor apprentice down here to toss him into the Throat."

They took a few minutes to collect their things and to prepare the phials of strong-scented herbs in a clear alcohol. And then, giving one last, longing look at the soft bed, Tuco turned and left the watch room, walking down the tunnel toward that terrible portal that yawned in the darkness, waiting to consume him again.

He had not been prepared for how much worse Pike's sensitive ears would make the journey. Not only could he hear with excruciating keenness the screams and moans of the tortured creatures beyond the portal to the Void, but the sound of danger only grew louder and more oppressive with every footstep, a bone-jarring, teeth-rattling sound. It made his eyes ache and his stomach turn. By the time they reached the widened cavern where the portal sat, it was all Tuco could do to drag each foot forward, fighting a tide of terror with every step. Pike must be far braver than Tuco had ever imagined, to hear danger this acutely all the time, and yet still manage not simply to survive every day in the Abbey, but to do so cheerfully, with a smile.

All the same, familiar now with what he would be facing inside the Void, Tuco knew that the danger he heard was all too real.

Right Braxus looked over at him. "You smell terrified."

"I'll be all right," Tuco said, wishing he could be certain it was true.

The enormous stone archway jutted up from the cavern floor, some primal, ancient thing, as old as the world itself. The screams and howls coming from it were almost deafening.

Looking frightened and wan, even through his golden scales, Etreon offered Tuco the phials they'd put together of the Wardenbane. Tuco sniffed at one-as near as he could make out, it smelled the same as the stuff they'd used before.

He stepped, unwillingly, toward the portal, and then frowned. "I almost forgot. I need to... unpossess Pike. He might be frightened afterward. Will you look after him?"

"Of course," Right Braxus answered.

Tuco sat on the cave floor as Hob and the others prepared the summoning ritual, using the materials they'd set aside. It took some time as they outlined a summoning circle in chalk, salt, and sulphur, and inscribed runes and sigils within it with charcoal mingled with drops of his blood that they'd saved for such emergencies. Candles were lit and placed at intervals according to Hob's instruction. Braxus invited Tuco to come and stand close by, and then together they stood around the circle, and chanted.

The cavern lit with a sudden flash of hellfire that burned an image of the summoning circle into Tuco's vision.

The world around him blurred, and for a moment he saw double. Then the cavern and everyone around him dwindled, shrinking away as the heavy weight of his own body settled around his bones. The darkness of the tunnel cavern away before his devil's eyes, as did the sense of terror from Pike's ears. Behind him, Pike collapsed, and Braxus caught him in two grey-furred hands. The rabbit-man looked so small, so fragile, in Braxus's thick arms. His head was tilted back, his eyes closed, but his breathing came slow and steady.

"He will wake soon," Hob said.

"Better that it not be down here," Tuco replied. He picked up a phial of ardenbane and looped its string around his neck. "Best carry him back to the watch room where he can rest."

"Alkeides," Etreon breathed, looking up at him with a rapt gaze. "I'm... so glad to see you again. Let me go with you. Perhaps I can help!"

"Oh, brave Etreon. I would not risk it. If the terrors inside take me, there is nothing you can do. Stay and help Pike. And if I haven't returned in the turn of an hourglass, perhaps you can summon me again." And I hope that won't be too late, he thought to himself.

He knew time was against all those still imprisoned, but dread of the Void and its Warden made him linger, embracing Braxus, Etreon, Hob, and the unconscious Pike, and watching them as they retreated down the passage into the darkness.

Finally, with no further excuse to dawdle, he turned back toward the portal, armed only with strong scents, a lodestone, and a compass, and prepared to face the darkness before creation. He took one step closer.

Something extraordinary slid in front of his face, a shimmer like soap bubbles, an iridescence like that of a rainbow. It was in the shape of a large, feathered wing, but made all of crystal and gemstone and light.

"Hold!" rang a voice like a bell.

Tuco turned. Towering over him, translucent and glimmering and ephemeral, was an enormous person, at least thirty feet high, their eyes shining with many colors, their features exquisite. Great, prismatic wings stretched from cavern wall to cavern wall, light glistening from and through them, sending all the colors of the rainbow warping and twisting across the stone like a sunbeam reflected off a river in faerie.

"Are-are you an angel?" Tuco stammered in amazement.

"I was," sang the creature in a harmonious voice. They dipped their beautiful head down, and now Tuco saw the four horns, spiraled like those of the unicorn, rising from their brow. "Thou lookest upon Samael, Earl of Beauty."