I shouted to see if anyone would come, but the guards must have been instructed to ignore me.  Then I tried and failed to pry open my manacle with the claws of my free hand.  Part of me knew it was pointless.  I needed to find a way to get Desdemona out of the dungeon or get down to her before anyone else could, if I wanted to escape.  But I still wanted to test the confines of my new situation.  If there was a way to get free without being obvious, I needed to know my options.

At last, I fell back into bed and closed my eyes, shivering under the blanket.  I tried to sort through my thoughts, to find some path forward, some way out of this, but all I could think to do for now was to endure, which couldn’t last.  Not forever.  I already felt myself balanced on the precipice of insanity and wondered how much longer I could avoid falling in.

These fucking demons. Why had I been resurrected here rather than in a verdant glade or an enchanted forest? Why not dryads or faeries rather than demons? It could hardly have been worse than Dreadthorn.

And yet…

I could only imagine Mona trapped in the dungeon below.  If I had put my fist through Phaedra's jaw, Mona would still be free.  Instead, I had failed, and now Phaedra found herself the new High Priestess of the Tower and therefore the leader of my cult. Calling it my cult sounded wrong now, though, considering I was chained to my bed.

I had never enjoyed being worshiped as a god, but I preferred it to being imprisoned as one.

When I had still thought myself free, I had dreamed of getting out of here, of finding a place so remote that no one would ever find us.  A shack in a clearing of mushrooms had never sounded more appealing.  Now my old foolish dream had become my new one.  Not to flee from civilization but merely to escape this damned tower.

I needed to find a way to get out of here.  More importantly, a way to free Mona. Everything hinged on that.  I couldn’t doubt for a second her firepower.  After all, in a straight-up fight, she would have won.  Shatterbone would be charred to a crisp, dead if not for Phaedra.

 There had to be some demons who would support us, I thought, if we could make it out of Phaedra and Ignak’s influence.  If only I could manage to do something about the collar around my neck and the fact we were incarcerated in the two parts of the tower farthest from each other.

Of course, freedom would not come easy. One thing was clear, though—if Phaedra was my “handler” now, I would need to earn her trust. Or at least convince her I was a docile prisoner who would give her what she wanted.

I eyed the glass vials she had left behind suspiciously. I don’t think I had ever been less turned on than at that moment, thinking about delivering samples to a mad scientist while chained to my bed with guards standing outside the door.

I suppose I could have considered myself lucky that they hadn’t left any guards inside my room, at least. Part of me wanted to think they’d underestimated me, but I couldn’t blame them, considering how things were going.

I was just a little godling, after all.

But for the time being, at least, I had privacy. I looked at the glass vials again and sighed. Phaedra hadn’t given me any indication of when she might return.

I needed to cooperate to buy myself time until I could figure out a plan.  Until then, it would be in my best interests to ensure I remained a valuable hostage.

 

***

 

Sometime later, after a few false starts, I realized how inconvenient Phaedra had made things by only leaving me with one hand free. This felt like punishment for refusing any succubi-provided assistance, mainly Phaedra’s herself. Or perhaps it was merely an oversight.

With perfect ill-timing, the doors to the bedroom slammed open right as I was fumbling, trying to stopper one now half-filled vial.

I wondered if Phaedra had been standing there for a while, waiting with her ear at the door.  It seemed like something she might do.

The second vial she had left for me still lay there, empty. But it had taken a depressing amount of effort to produce my first emission, and I was hardly in the mood for round two so quickly.

Phaedra walked up and plucked the vial right from my hand, a hungry look in her eyes. The vial wasn’t quite full, but I had somehow managed to fill it a little over halfway, which seemed like a lot to me, though I admittedly had no idea what was the standard among demons.

Phaedra seemed satisfied, however.  I wondered if she intended to sample some of it herself.

I no longer wanted to look at her, so I lay back on my pillow and closed my eyes.  And when I did, I saw something I hadn’t expected—my “Godseed” glowing as if it were a liquid brewed from sunlight.  It shone almost as brightly as the fire within my core.

As I stared at the vial with my third eye, I felt frustration burn within me.  No wonder she wanted it so badly.  I hadn’t truly understood until I had seen it myself. In response to my frustration, I felt the fragment of light within the vial tremble. It shifted as if from a gust of my Will.

My eyes snapped open, and I hoped Phaedra hadn’t noticed the movement.  But her eyes were fixed on me.  She was smiling to herself.

Phaedra must have misinterpreted how I stared at the vial, for she slipped it into her pocket as if she thought I would try to take it back. She smiled at me coolly. “Excellent, Dark One. I will examine this sample, and then tomorrow, I will decide how to proceed with our wonderful project.”

It was our project, now? I wanted to laugh at her, but it seemed ill-advised. Besides, I was trying to win her trust, at least a little. So instead, I nodded. “I look forward to learning more from your study,” I ventured. “I wish to know the capabilities of my body as well.”

She smiled. “Good, godling. I am glad our interests align.”  She paused for a moment.  “You have made this transition less difficult than I expected, and I appreciate your restraint.”

To say that to her prisoner seemed hilarious, but I bit my tongue. “Phaedra, you know it would be easier to aim into the vial if I had both hands free.”

She tilted her head and regarded me carefully. “Nice try,” she said after a moment. “You did well enough with the first one, despite this handicap.”  I cursed. If I’d made a mess, would she have gone for it?  She gestured down to the second vial.  “I’ll send someone for this in an hour.  In the meantime, I know it’s been difficult for you, Dark Lord, so I’ll give you the rest of the day off.”  She looked at me intently.  “I visited the General.  You’ll see Desdemona tomorrow.”

My heart soared momentarily, then stopped with a jolt as my skepticism took hold.  I would believe Phaedra’s words when I looked into Mona’s eyes and saw her looking back at me, and not before.  “Tomorrow?” I asked.  “Will you bring her here?”

“No,” Phaedra said coldly.  “Since you cannot explain the mechanism for her newfound capabilities, we’ll have to conduct your reunion in my lab.”  She began to turn towards the door but paused as if she could not resist continuing to speak.  “You’re getting that laboratory tour as planned, just a little later than expected.  I’m going to figure you out, godling.  And then you’re going to use that magical cock of yours, or whatever the hell you did, and you’re going to make me the most powerful demon in the world.”  She leered at me for a moment before leaving.

In the brief flash of hallway I saw before someone slammed the door closed behind her, I spotted at least six guards standing at attention in suits of black and gold armor.  Even if I were to get free, I would need to fight my way through all of them.  I would need to transform and find a way to remove the collar or overload it so that I could use magic again.  And then I would need to get to the dungeon before Mona could be harmed.  How many floors of the tower were between us?  I didn’t know.  Too many.

I sighed and looked at the second vial.  I had an hour, leaving some free time before I needed to put in serious effort.

Which left me plenty of time to panic, and to plan.

Would I really see Mona tomorrow?

Even if I did, it would be in a controlled environment.  There would likely be little chance of escape.  Phaedra wasn’t stupid.

My eyes flicked down to the second glass vial again. 

And in a flash, I realized one trick she would never expect.  I had been so scared of Phaedra noticing it that I hadn’t fully appreciated what I could do.

I remembered how it had felt to exert my Will on the vial.  How hard could I have pushed?  What could I have made it do?  I could sense potential there.

The collar and bindings Phaedra used to restrict my magic had a limitation, I now supposed. They only suppressed my ability to exert my Will from within my body. Not outside of it.

Phaedra must not have considered that. I couldn’t blame her. I never would have, either.

But even now, though the connection was fading, I still felt some link to the vial's contents, though it receded as the elevator descended.  When I closed my eyes, I saw the light of Phaedra and my "donation."

I looked away toward the sky above, where mercifully, there was nothing in my vision.  When I closed my eyes, all I saw was the darkness.

A plan began to form in my mind.  It was foolish, perhaps even stupid, but not impossible.  Which meant it was the best plan I’d thought of so far.  Though I didn’t have what I needed to implement it.

Not yet.

 

***

 

Later, a terrified servant wordlessly collected the second glass vial while a trio of guards watched from the door.  After that, I had nothing left to do but stew, and eventually, my fatigue overwhelmed me.  Though I had been spared during my last bout of unconsciousness, I soon found myself again at the dark crossroads.  This time, it did not take long to reach the steps of the museum.

Was I getting better at deciding where I wanted to end up here?  Or was it simply because I hadn’t passed out this time?  I wished I knew how to get here reliably.  I entered the massive building and walked to the central chamber.

This time, the miniature replica of the Void was suspended in the air above the platform.  I breathed a sigh of relief.

You’re never going to see her again, you know, Greg-Theryx said.

I looked around, trying to hunt for the voice’s location.  “I don’t need your commentary.  I did what you said and lost everything anyway.”

Who makes a deal with the devil and then gets nothing for it?  Everyone, in the end, I supposed.  But I hadn’t even enjoyed it for a little while, and that seemed like poor customer service on Greg-Theryx’s part.  I decided to call him Theryx for short.  I wondered if he’d mind.

He didn’t say anything, so I realized he couldn’t read my thoughts.  That was a plus.

I never promised victory, only strength. I have much more to teach to one willing to learn.  How you use those gifts will be up to you.

Learning to control my new form had been useful, but I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop on the dark bargain I’d made with him the last time I was here.  No sooner had I thought that when I began to look around, and I noticed that in the wing of the museum with the sign labeled “Dread,” parts of the exhibit were now laid out.

My stomach twisted as I approached the new wing, and I saw it contained a statue of me in my massive shapeshifted form at its center.  No, it’s not me.  It’s Greg-Theryx, I realized.  Had he built this here?  Did it represent my new skills?

I looked at the statue, and it looked back with dark, glittering eyes.  Was he in there, too?  Or merely following me, buzzing around my head?

No, I had no interest in diving in any further with his help.  Not yet.  Besides, nothing he could show me would help me get out of my collar.  I couldn’t do any magic, even if he—

Don’t you want to fly?

I hesitated. “I do, but I’ve been studying on my own.”

The presence laughed. Yes, you’ve been doing well. And in perhaps ten years of rigorous study, you’ll begin to get the hang of it. You might crash, of course, while you learn the ropes. You might unbalance your incantation, fail to recover, and fall to your death. Or… You could learn everything you need to know in a single night as you lay dreaming.

“That sounds like a good deal,” I said.  I reflected on the fact that I’d never gotten to read the end of the book, and now I wondered if I ever would.

Theryx kept telling me to follow him and that he would show me what I sought, but I had already tuned him out.

I tried to sit down, but I had no body.  Instead, I willed my awareness to move lower, to relax.  I felt myself expand as if I were turning from a liquid to a gas, flowing outward in this tiny pocket of void.

Theryx stopped in the middle of what was no doubt an enticing speech.  What are you doing?

“Seeing how much control I have in this place.”

Never mind that for now—

“I mind quite a bit.  I haven’t fully appreciated what I can do here yet, have I?”

I could feel the dark presence seethe with anger.  He wasn’t used to being treated this way.  Listen, mortal.  I possess knowledge that others yearn to know.  Secrets you can’t even fathom.  Do you wish for my instruction or not?

“What will it cost me?” I asked.

There is no cost, Greg. It is only as I told you before.  These memories, the sum of my knowledge and power, are given to you freely.

I remembered something, a fragment, the merest glimmer of a memory.  Maria looking at a menu outside a restaurant, turning to me.  “If they don’t show you the price,” she was saying, “it’s too expensive.”

I turned my attention from Theryx’s newly opened museum exhibit back to my presence.  There was something I had been wanting to try, a theory I had…

“From fire, deliverance!” I said, trying to imagine my Will channeling through the space around me.  Could I cast magic in here?  Did this place possess the same qualities as reality?

But nothing happened. I did not feel the proper resonance, and no energy flowed through my body because I didn’t have one.

From his corner of my soul, Theryx began to howl with laughter, which echoed disconcertingly through the imaginary space.

You’re so wonderfully stubborn.  I find it admirable.  Foolish but admirable.

“You’re not being very helpful,” I said, “for someone who claimed to wish to help.  So, can I do magic in here or not?”

There was a long silence.  It will take more practice.

“More practice?”

This is a representation of our soul, the presence said, with a sigh.  Seriously, mortal, are you sure you need to—

“Understand the capabilities of this space?  I think I do need to, yes,” I ventured.

It is beyond your comprehension!

I laughed at him.

I supposed something had snapped within me by now, and I was far less impressed by Theryx’s ominous presence than I had been before.  After all, he was trapped in here as much as I was trapped outside.  Otherwise, based on what I’d learned about him from the Book, I doubted he would have been so eager to entice me.

I couldn’t help but think that doing what he wanted me to do would end up being a poor idea.  I would have asked Mona about it, but I couldn’t.  I would have to follow my instincts.

Besides, Theryx had taught me a lesson during a fight that had already started.  If I ever fell to my death, perhaps he could teach me how to fly in the ten seconds between me jumping off the tower and hitting the ground.

That decided, I returned my attention to trying to focus my Will on the spot directly in front of me, focusing my energy into what I hoped would become a tiny mote of fire.  After a while, it gradually became easier to ignore Theryx’s constant heckling.  I made no progress in conjuring the spell, however.

Listen, mortal.  You have disrespected me for the last time.

I turned to where the voice had come from and saw Greg-Theryx standing under the sign labeled “Dread.”  Once again, he had a body of shadow.  He had many limbs, somehow, more than I could count, which rippled and defied perception.  His mouth opened, and his teeth were made of stars.  One of his arms coiled and slammed into one of the nearby display cases.

I felt a pain in my soul, and my presence screamed in agony.  Though I had no body here, it seemed that Greg-Theryx could conjure one when he wished.  And use it to damage my—our—soul.

“Wait!” I said.  “Don’t do—”

Do what?  He raised his arm and slammed it down again.  Now you wish to speak to me?

Pain pierced through my head, and I felt myself being pushed away and drawn back towards the portal.  Was he about to eject me from this place?  Could he do that?

What is given can be taken away, the voice of Greg-Theryx intoned, or broken beyond repair.  Next time, I expect you to do as I say.  Remember, Greg.  You are nothing more than cud.

And then I woke up, sweating and gasping for breath.  I tried to go back to sleep, but this time my consciousness drifted through nightmares, a dream where a shadow chased me through darkened halls.

In the end, I arrived at a dead end.  The shadow's maw spread wide, and its teeth were made from stars as his had been.

But being eaten wasn't the worst part.  That came later, when I felt myself being digested—slowly dissolving throughout eternity.  The feeling provoked a memory, a sense of deja vu, and I knew the nightmares hadn’t come from nothing.  This had happened to me before.  It was that word—cud.

I remembered how Greg-Theryx knew me and how I knew him, how we had been fused.  It was so simple, so strange, but as the memories returned, I remembered one thing quite clearly—on the day we had been summoned, mine had been the soul that dark god was devouring.