Beyond the toiling demons was a levelled platform on which contingents of miniature troops were drawing up in battle order. The technology here was very different from that of the Emperor's Situation Room. Triangulated projectors replaced the crystal globes so that the armoured demons Pyrgus had seen outside the city were re-created little more than eighteen inches tall across the platform surface. At first glance they looked like a toy army, but once you watched for more than a moment you lost the scale and found yourself drawn into the midst of the action even more effectively than any globe.
'Aggression!' Beleth growled admiringly.
The troops were grouping for manoeuvres. They had separated out into two broadly equal factions and as Pyrgus watched they hurled themselves upon each other. Light wands sparked and hissed. Balls of flame rolled viciously across the battlefield. Missiles exploded everywhere. But Beleth's troops seemed indestructible. They walked unscathed through gouts of flame, explosions, shimmering razor fields, somehow surviving to press their attack with mind-numbing savagery. These were the creatures who would soon be joining Hairstreak to oppose the forces of the Purple Emperor. Pyrgus's father didn't stand a chance.
'The reality will be entertaining,' Beleth said. 'But enough of this small amusement – I want to tell you now how you will die.' The ground shook as he walked towards a metal lever set beside the brimstone pool. He looked up at Pyrgus, now almost directly overhead, and smiled. 'Isn't real machinery fascinating? I mean, all these magical trapped-lightning devices are impressive, but you can't really beat the good old-fashioned cogs and gears and levers stuff. That's machinery you can understand. I love it, Crown Prince. So satisfying.' He reached out and fondled the end of the lever.
It was uncomfortable in Pyrgus's cage. Crouched as he was, the muscles of his legs were beginning to protest and would probably soon spasm painfully. His headache was back, more vicious than before. Just two more little problems in what had been a really lousy day. He wished he could think of something cool to say to Beleth, but nothing came to mind. Not that it mattered, since Beleth was still talking.
'You will die very slowly,' Beleth said. 'Very slowly and very, very painfully. This lever operates the machinery above your head. Once I pull it, the machinery feeds out the chain and your cage will begin to lower. It's set to work extremely slowly. I doubt you'll even notice the movement, but take my word for it, you will be moving. Downwards.'
Pyrgus looked down. Below him the brimstone pool seethed and bubbled.
'In time,' said Beleth, 'in such a long, long time, life will grow uncomfortable for you. In time you will find yourself coughing from the brimstone fumes. In time you will find yourself sweating from the heat. In time the stench of sulphur will fill your nostrils and your eyes will begin to stream.'
'Now look here, Beleth – ' Pyrgus said.
But Beleth was not to be interrupted. He giggled. 'And it can only get worse. The temperature will rise as you approach the brimstone pool. You will become thirsty as your body fluids evaporate. Your skin will prickle, then begin to blister. All so slowly, so very, very slowly, allowing you to appreciate every second of the exquisite, steadily increasing pain. No, please don't interrupt – we're getting to the best bit. Eventually, after many, many hours of drawn-out torture, you will reach the brimstone pool itself. Slowly, oh so slowly, your cage will descend into the molten sulphur. It will begin to burn away your feet, starting with the soles. Then, as the cage sinks deeper, it will burn away your ankles and your legs up to your knees. Brimstone cauterises blood flow, so you will remain alive and conscious as your body is gradually burned away a fraction of an inch at a time. Your head and brain will be the last to go so you may even enjoy the supreme horror of watching the molten brimstone creeping up towards your neck before you lose consciousness for ever.' He gave a deep, throaty chuckle and stroked the metal casing of the enormous missile his demons were constructing beside the pool. 'The last thing you will ever see will be my Doomsday Bomb.'
'Doomsday Bomb?' Pyrgus echoed despite himself.
'The weapon that will allow me to take over your father's kingdom,' Beleth grinned. 'The destructive power of a small sun is contained within this metal canister. I will launch it from one of my vimanas -what your human friends quaintly call flying saucers. It will kill a million of your father's soldiers, give or take a dozen. Such a saving in manpower. It will destroy your palaces and raze your entire capital in a single burst of deadly light. You will die looking at it, knowing it will soon wipe out your family and your friends.'
'Why are you doing this?' demanded Pyrgus. 'I can understand why you might want to kill me, but why the long, slow torture?'
Beleth smiled delightedly. 'It is my nature.' His fingers curled around the lever. 'Oh, I do like this bit!' he exclaimed. 'It gives me such a thrill!' He pulled the lever.
The sweating demons stopped their work momentarily and turned to look up at Pyrgus's cage. There was a grinding of machinery and Pyrgus felt the cage jerk slightly before it settled, swinging slightly.
'Doesn't feel as if it's moving, does it?' Beleth called. 'But it is, take my word for it. You are on your final journey and it will take a long, long time. I shall leave you soon to enjoy your trip, but before I go I want to give you a little mental anguish to accompany your physical pain. I want to tell you how your father was betrayed and how he will be killed. I want to tell you what will happen to the Peacock Throne and the fate of your dear little sister. I want to tell you about the treachery and treason and the utter, total, absolute destruction of House Iris. I want to tell you about our plans to pillage the Realm of Faerie. I want – '
In his cage, Pyrgus experienced another stab of his peculiar headache. It felt as if there was pressure building up inside his skull. It made him nauseous and for one glorious moment he thought he might be able to throw up all over Beleth. But then the nausea died down and he was just left with the headache and the pressure in his skull. He put it down to nerves and tried hard to ignore it.
Below him, Beleth droned on happily.
'But Serenity – ' the guard protested.
'Just go,' said Holly Blue imperiously. 'I shall be perfectly all right.'
The guard looked at her uncertainly, then turned and marched from the chamber. His companions followed in smart order. Blue swung her gaze to the boy who'd sneaked behind a pillar to get a glimpse of her in the bath. He was a pleasant-looking creature in most peculiar clothes, but he certainly didn't look as if he had the courage to risk the sort of punishment meted out for that type of behaviour. 'Well,' she said coldly, 'are you going to explain yourself?'
'I'm sorry,' Henry told her miserably. They were no longer in the storeroom. The guards had marched him to opulent living quarters where the girl seemed entirely at home. And in charge.
'Sorry you did it or sorry you were caught?'
'Sorry I did it,' Henry said. 'I didn't mean to.' The guards had called her 'Highness' and 'Serenity'. That probably meant she was some sort of royal, maybe even a princess. He almost shuddered at the thought before another, even more awful thought caught up with it: she might be related to Pyrgus. Hadn't Pyrgus said he had a sister? Henry couldn't remember, but the idea was terrifying. If this was Pyrgus's sister, how could Henry ever look his friend in the eye again? Bad enough to peep at a strange girl, but to peep at your friend's sister