Page 72 of To Dwell in Shadows
“Uh… yes.”
“No one is strong enough to beat our Samael, are they, Selene?” Queen Thema interjected.
Selene smiled weakly, remembering how Queen Thema still didn’t know the true purpose of the trials.
The three of them watched as Ghar performed his duties as master of ceremonies, crossing off the names of competitors on a parchment scroll while new arrivals streamed in. The last one to arrive was Drath, looking like the Grim Reaper in a long black cloak, rubbing his six arms together.
When all thirty contenders had gathered, Asmodeus began to climb up one of the scaffolds. It was a windy day, and Selene held her breath as the structure swayed under his weight.
She was surprised by how sluggish the king’s movements were. Deliberate, heavy. Was his physical form decaying along with his power? Below, she caught a flicker of concern on Sam’s face and knew he had noticed it, too.
Once Asmodeus was in sight of all the spectators, he addressed them with excitement. “Welcome, everyone! The last trial tested the strength and ferocity of our competitors. This trial will determine which among them is cunning, but also favored. The stakes are much higher, for if you fail this test, you’ll become one with the river.”
A cheer rose from the crowd. Empusa nudged Selene excitedly, which only made Selene’s stomach churn harder. Queen Thema clapped delicately.
“Turn your gaze toward the horizon. In the distance, you can see thePurgatorypreparing to dock,” Asmodeus said.
Selene followed the others’ demons' gaze, squinting to see through the mist that hung in the air. After a few moments she made out a massive, dark shape moving through the water. A sudden gust tore the mist apart, unveiling a sailing vessel like nothing she had ever imagined.
It was a monstrous fusion of Viking longship and antique steamboat, as long as a river barge and towering ten stories high. A wooden figurehead of a hooded ferryman jutted from the prow, its outstretched hand turned upward as if demanding payment.
“What is that?” Selene whispered.
“The great shipPurgatory!”Empusa said. “Any demon who spends time outside the Underworld must purify themselves by sailing home on thePurgatory.There, they can spend time in reflection, rid themselves of any mortal attachments, and catch up on the news of the realm.”
Selene could see demons hanging off the ship, hooting and waving to the crowd. Misty white shapes darted around the black sails and smokestacks frantically. “Are there souls aboard as well?”
Empusa’s laugh wheezed like a lifelong smoker. “Oh, yes. Servitude can be an effective punishment.”
Selene was about to ask what she meant, but Asmodeus’s voice stopped her.
“I have placed ten coins inside the ferryman’s hand. Those who can cross the river to retrieve them will advance to the next round. Those who fail? Well, they will truly understand the river’s hatred. May the first contender step forward!”
The moment the trial began, Selene wished she had just stayed in their chambers like Sam had once suggested. Instead of having the competitors try to reach thePurgatoryall at once, the king had them each compete individually. It was more entertaining for the demons, but gut-wrenching for anyone with human sensibilities to watch.
The first demon, clearly not the brightest, thought he could swim across the river. He strutted forward smugly draped head to toe in spider webbing, seemingly certain it would serve as armor. Or maybe floatation?
With a triumphant battle whoop, he leapt into the River of Hatred. Just as Selene—and probably everyone else—had suspected, the spider webbing offered no protection. His cry dissolved into a gurgling silence the instant he hit the water. A few bubbles rose.
Then nothing.
The second competitor, also brimming with misplaced confidence, believed he could launch himself across the river by having a few friends hurl him like a javelin.
Four demons each grabbed one of his limbs. Then the crowd went quiet as the demon counted down.
“Three! Two! One!”
With a grunting heave, his friends hurled him skyward. He soared about ten feet before plummeting into the river with a spectacular splash. His scream was cut off mid-note, swallowed whole by the water.
And so it continued.
For what felt like hours, Selene watched demon after demon try and fail to cross the river. Some attempted to ride makeshift rafts of bones or barrels, others tried clumsy magick or charms to carry them across. One attempted to part the river like Moses, only for it to swallow him whole when he set foot on the exposed riverbed.
Eventually, a demon of Vanity became the first to succeed. Small and wiry—probably eighty pounds soaking wet—he had bribed a group of imps to fly him across. He snatched the coin from the ferryman’s wooden hand with such exaggerated flourish that he immediately fumbled it, drawing a collective gasp from the crowd. But with a swift recovery, he caught it midair, making him one of the winners.
Another demon succeeded by managing to float across on a waterlogged armchair. A third demon, clad in leather armor and a steel helmet etched with a flame, used his wingsto fly across the river and back. Though simple, it was an impressive feat, considering most winged demons were too weak to cover such a distance or were immediately thrown off course by the wind.
When it was Drath’s turn, Selene cheered alongside the other sadistic demons that he would fail miserably—and fatally. But he successfully crossed the river on enormous iron stilts, sealing his place among the handful of victors. After him, another demon failed to cross, stumbling over a levitation incantation. The next one, however, recited it correctly and made it across.
