A week later, Logan had to admit it felt good to be properly dressed and suitably armed again. The hunter’s black cargo pants and jacket were not a perfect fit but it was a damned sight better than running around in shredded jeans and a half-naked torso. It also had the surprise bonus of having an inner lining with protective metal plates sewn into the fabric. Denke's boots had, unfortunately, been too small for Logan’s feet. However, the goggles and leather helmet he had looted from one the soldiers proved very useful for navigating outside when the Hellwind began to blow.

Even better were the pair of pistols hanging from his hips and the comforting weight of the rifle slung across his back. The short sword and dagger were just added insurance. For the first time in a long time, he felt like a proper soldier again.

Slowly but surely, he and Beauty were becoming a threat to be reckoned with. It was almost enough to make him forget the price they had paid to gain such an advantage. Almost.

Karen, he thought. I am so sorry.

Wounds still pained his flesh but he was healing much quicker than he could have hoped for, thanks to Beauty and the strange healing properties of her saliva. He still had no idea what that was all about and she had been unable to explain it beyond that it “felt right” to do.

Logically, he knew he needed more time to fully recover from the last battle but the fury seething in his chest would not let him wait or rest any longer. Baroness Graveek had taken something precious from him and that was a bill long overdue.

A silhouette prowled nearby through the grit and sand blowing across the landscape. Beauty watched the shape move around them and looked less than happy. Her teeth snapped in frustration.

“It’s ok,” Logan told her yet again. “I have… uh… tamed the beast. He’s on our side now.”

She just looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Given the circumstances, Logan could hardly blame the Succubus for being skeptical. At best, the Hellhound was two hundred pounds of unpredictable muscle, teeth, and murderous intent. It bothered Logan that he had to keep the secret of Coyote’s true nature from her but it was not his secret to tell.

Beauty led their unconventional group across the blasted landscape. They traveled for two full days, camping where and when they could. On the third day, the Succubus led them to the top of a steep rise in the landscape and pointed.

He gave a long, low whistle of appreciation. “Yep. That’s a castle alright.”

Cliffs of broken rock fell away from all sides except for a narrow road up to the front gate of a twenty-foot tall wall of mortared stone. The wall was divided into three yards like an irregularly shaped pyramid. Each section controlled access via a fortified gatehouse.

The “top” yard of the pyramid was the primary entrance from the road and contained a scattering of small, brick buildings. The right side yard consisted of a square manor house with a steep triangular roof and a separate watchtower at the very edge of the cliff. Both structures rose more than thirty feet at the tallest point.

The left side yard was the largest and contained two enormous, square keeps. The one on the left was four stories tall and had a covered bridge to the other keep and a flight of stairs on the flat roof that led to a door. There was nothing past that door except a very long drop.

The building on the right seemed to be the primary structure. It was five stories tall with a peaked roof and a walkway for security patrols around the edge of the roof. It backed up to a thick tower at the edge of the cliff that rose even higher at nearly a hundred feet with a clear, commanding view of the entire valley sprawled out below.

“If only we had a wheelbarrow and a holocaust cloak,” Logan muttered to himself.

“What?” Beauty replied.

"What?" Coyote asked in his thoughts.

“Nevermind.” Logan waved it away. “You wouldn’t get the reference.” He took a deep breath and blew it out with a shake of his head. “Well, that is going to be a tough nut for two people…”

"And a Hound."

“…to crack. Historically speaking, there are only three ways to defeat a fortified position. Full assault, surround and starve, or infiltrate from the inside. Unfortunately, all three typically involved having an army at your back.”

“What is army?” she asked.

“Many people, armed and prepared to fight,” Logan explained.

“Have no army.”

“No,” Logan chuckled. “We definitely do not but then…” Logan stared at the castle. “Neither does Graveek. According to what Seralla said, she only has around twenty that can fight… hmm.”

He smiled. “There may just be a way to do this. Let’s head back to the shelter.”

"You said you replaced the Hellhound Karl Denke thought he was working with, yes?"

"Indeed," Coyote responded. "Once I learned Denke’s demon Master was in the business of offering hunters for hire, it seemed likely his services would be called upon. It seemed prudent to use that to my advantage, and to yours."

"More than you realize," Logan thought. "Tell me about Karl Denke."

Logan could feel the spirit’s curiosity in his mind. "What do you want to know?" Coyote asked.

"Everything."

Coyote talked, Logan listened, and the three of them journeyed back to their cavern home. No demons had been seen, on land or in the sky, since Seralla. It was impossible to know if it was just coincidence or if the word had begun to spread among them that a new predator stalked this part of the Wastelands. Logan worried that it was the latter. Drawing attention to themselves only drew a bigger target on their backs. After defeating Denke and his hunting party, it was only a matter of time before someone else came looking for them.

Once back at the cavern, Logan surprised both his companions by stuffing every spare weapon they possessed into the backpack Beauty had brought back from Gomorrah. “Beauty, come with me, please. We need to pay a visit to the neighbors. Beast…” He pointed at the Hellhound. “Stay.” "And alert us if anyone sneaks in while we are gone, please."

Just for show, the Hell Hound snarled at him with great, yellow teeth before settling to the ground. Beauty watched the exchange between man and beast with a wary expression. Logan could feel the amusement in his head.

"Stop teasing Beauty. She’s uncomfortable enough around you as it is and so am I for keeping the truth from her," Logan thought.

"We all have our burdens to bear, Cousin," Coyote replied with a mental grin.

Logan and Beauty set off deeper into the cave network with a fresh crystal in hand. The way was familiar to him now. The Succubus fell into step behind.

“Where going? What is word neighbors?” she asked.

Logan shook his head and offered an apologetic smile. “With everything that has happened, I haven’t even had the chance to tell you about the other damned souls living down here. Karen and I…” Logan stumbled against the sharp stab of loss. “We met them while you were gone. I think its time they met you too.”

When they were close, Logan turned to her. “Stay here for a moment. We don’t want to cause a panic.”

Logan stepped out into the dim, beige light and knocked the hilt of his dagger against the rock to announce his presence. All eyes looked up, wide and frightened, like a herd of deer scenting danger. Logan sheathed the blade and tried to look nonthreatening.

Alan stood and approached. “Logan, what brings you back?”

“I need to talk to you.” He looked around and spoke louder to all the gathered souls sitting around the broken temple. “To all of you."

"I’m here to make you an offer. A chance to stop cowering in the dark. The enemy who hunts you, the Elder demon that you have all been hiding from, has been weakened. Her strength has been diminished. We intend to take advantage of that and end this struggle, once and for all, by taking this fight to her doorstep.”

Numerous voices burst out in a babble of nervous chatter. The sounds of fear, anger, and disbelief rose and fell.

“How? It’s impossible!”

“This is madness!”

“Don’t listen to him!”

“Beauty?” Logan called over his shoulder. “Come on out, please.”

The gorgeous demon stepped into the light. The chatter stopped abruptly. Shock and terror painted every face.

Logan took her hand in his and spoke into the sudden silence. “I would like you all to meet my dear friend and partner, Beauty. I would not have survived without her. Without her, I would not have been able to take down nine of those who would hunt and make slaves of us all.”

Logan looked around, meeting the eyes of each person staring back at him. “Each of these accomplishments, every one of you would claim to be impossible, but proof of the possible is right here, in front of your own eyes.”

He looked at Alan. “The last time we spoke, you asked me to consider how can Hell exist when clearly it should not? I believe I may have an answer for you. A friend once told me demons were created by humans as a way of justifying the evil things we do to each other. That they exist because we needed them to exist.”

His hand rose to point at the broken Greek temple. “Religions are about faith in a higher purpose. That building exists because the ancient Greek people believed in Hades and the gods of Mount Olympus. Hell exists because a long time ago someone decided it should become a part of the world-wide Christian belief system. There are exactly nine Circles of Hell because a man named Dante wrote a book called “the Inferno” that reshaped our concept of what Hell looked like. Finally, there is this.”

Logan pulled the pistol from the holster at his side and held it up for inspection. “Neither the Bible nor the Inferno ever mentioned guns or flying ships, yet they exist in Hell. Why? How? The answer is because some creative human souls believed that they could exist.”

He turned to address everyone. “Do you understand? God didn’t create Hell. We did, and this gun is proof that what we created, we can change. I have done many seemingly impossible things since arriving in Hell. Not because I am special, but simply because I believed it could be done. And if I can do that alone, just imagine what ten of us could do? Or a hundred? Or the power of a thousand human souls working toward a single purpose?”

The older woman Logan thought of as “Sad Eyes” stood. “That was a pretty speech, young man, but we can’t fight with words.”

Logan dropped the backpack from his shoulders and turned it upside down. A dozen assorted hand weapons looted from their kills spilled out on to the ground.

The woman smirked. “A good start but not nearly enough to storm castle walls. Yes, I know the place you intend to attack. I was a prisoner there once. You would need your hundred souls to storm those walls.”

“For a frontal assault, you would be correct,” Logan replied. “There is another way.”

He turned and looked at Beauty. “But you’re not going to like it.”