‘Sir.’
Michael glanced sharply at Rohan, who was still studying the ceiling. He nodded and turned to the rest of the squad. ‘Be very careful not to touch anything. Let’s go.’
As they proceeded down the tunnel, the frescoes changed. The colours shifted from brilliant blues and golds to red and black, and showed scenes of battle and conquest instead of peaceful offering and celebration. Michael stopped when he saw a fresco that didn’t show a Buddha or devotee at all – it depicted a Snake Mother in True Form holding a screaming human to her impossibly wide mouth. A red inscription below the Mother said, Honoured Number Sixteen who brought more than a hundred humans for us to play with. Their skulls and bones adorn our nest and bring joy to our hearts.
Michael sniffed the air; the earthy scent from the tunnel walls was strong, but there was a definite odour of nest from up ahead; death and decay.
Rohan nodded. ‘Now it gets intense.’
As they travelled down the tunnel, the frescoes petered out to nothing and the walls darkened from gold to black. They descended steeply, the floor sometimes slippery with moisture. They all felt it at the same time and stopped. Michael worked his way through the group to Rohan at the head.
Michael sent his senses through the tunnels ahead of them and he and Rohan shared a look. There were at least three hundred small- to mid-sized demons ahead, with a group of twenty or so really big ones – either Duke or Mother level. Michael studied his own squad – he and Rohan were the only Immortals present – and nearly ordered them out.
What did the intel say about the level of training? Michael asked Rohan.
The demons don’t appear to be trained, they are big but not warriors. This nest has never been attacked so they’re complacent.
Michael worked out the numbers and came up slightly positive on his own side. They could take them; and removing this many huge breeding Mothers from the Horde of Hell would give the Celestial forces a serious tactical advantage in the war to come. It could mean the difference between an improbable victory and a very likely Celestial defeat.
He nodded once, sharply, and sent an order out to the troop. Me on point; Number Two on rear guard. Have your weapons out and ready.
The rest of the squad drew their swords, and Michael pulled out his own and held it. Rohan moved to the back of the group to guard the rear, and Michael made them all invisible and led them to the end of the tunnel.
The tunnel opened into one of the largest nest chambers he had ever seen, short of the chamber containing the highest level Mothers in the centre of Hell. The cavern stretched higher and further than he could see, and the air was full of the dank odour of the demon inhabitants. Dry slithering indicated that the Mothers were on the move – they hadn’t settled for the night yet – and Michael led the squad along the left wall, masking their sound and scent.
On my word, take them out one by one, pull them to the side and finish them, he said. Backs to the wall and defensive formation when we’re discovered. Try to quietly remove as many as you can before they raise the alarm.
He led the group to the edge of the populated area of the nest, where floor hollows three metres across sat at five-metre intervals. Each hollow was claimed by a Mother for her eggs. One of the Mothers was reclining in her hollow nearby and Michael led the group towards her, still keeping them silent.
The air exploded with loud bangs and the head of the soldier next to Michael burst in a gush of blood and brains and shattered bone that hit him with piercing splinters. Michael ducked and moved to the side; a group of Mothers armed with automatic firearms had been hiding behind their sisters and now raised their human front ends on their snake back halves to let loose on the squad. The soldiers fell, their bodies shredded by the force of the bullets that crashed into them. As the only other Immortal there, Rohan was fast enough to block bullets with his blade; but he was overwhelmed, half his head blew out, and his body disappeared.
Michael sent a blast of energy into the middle of the Mothers and the two centre ones were destroyed. He needed to find cover and there wasn’t any. He snapped chi armour around himself, but it wouldn’t hold for long. He sent another blast of energy into the Mothers but these resisted it: too big. He changed to shen energy, the flaming energy of his half-god soul, and destroyed them.
The chi armour faded. The Mothers moved faster than he could see and surrounded him. He needed to open his Inner Eye to destroy them but he was struck on the back of the head.
Someone held his arms and was dragging him, on his behind, through the dirt. His head was splitting and he wanted badly to throw up. The nausea overcame him and he gagged, then spat some bile out to one side. He looked up to see what was pulling him, and only saw a confused jumble of brown and black. He collapsed and retched again.
They stopped dragging him and he peered up at them. Two really big Mothers in human form towered over him, holding one arm each. They were exceptionally tall, slim, gorgeous women – supermodel gorgeous. One appeared Indian and the other looked Thai. Michael’s gut heaved again but he managed to avoid vomiting.
The Mothers released his arms and he fell to the floor on his back. He stared at the ceiling; it was the arched room with the Buddhist frescoes. One of the Mothers kicked him in the side and he grunted.
‘Cut that out, Dad wants him alive and in one piece.’
Someone crouched over him, blocking the view of the ceiling. It was another big demon, a Duke in female human form. She lifted his eyelids and shone a light into his eyes. He winced at the pain that seared through his head.
‘He’ll live,’ she said. ‘Well done.’
They pulled at his left arm and he tried to jerk it away but failed. Something stung the inside of his elbow – a needle. They were drugging him, and he was too weakened and disoriented to fight it.
‘Take him through,’ the Duke said. They grabbed his arms and dragged him as it all faded away.
His head was bumping painfully against something. He was sprawled, half-sitting, across a seat and bouncing – he was in a car. He pulled himself upright and nearly threw up again. His head pounded and he was deliriously thirsty. He wondered how much time had passed.
‘Take it easy,’ a male voice said. ‘They hit you way too hard. Can you see?’
Michael opened his eyes and peered at the demon speaking to him. He was in a van, facing the back, and it lurched again; the nausea roiled up and he looked around for something to throw up into.
‘Sick,’ he gasped out.
‘Oh,’ the demon said, and quickly passed him a plastic shopping bag.
These things usually had holes in them but Michael couldn’t stop the gush of bile and stomach acid. He retched a few more times, then bent over his knees, trying to settle his stomach and overcome the pounding in his head. His hands automatically tied a knot in the top of the bag and he dropped it onto the floor of the van.
‘Combination of a heroin overdose and concussion – unfortunately you’ll survive, Prince Michael, even if it feels like you won’t,’ the demon said.
‘Don’t want to,’ Michael mumbled. ‘Please, kill me now.’
‘What, and miss the opportunity my father’s about to give you? He’s going to take you into the European Heavens,’ the demon said with amusement.
Michael’s head shot up to study the demon, and he realised with a shock that it was the Demon King’s Number One Son himself. He was in male human form with slicked-back blond hair and wearing a grey silk suit. Michael glanced out the window; they were travelling through the desert at highway speed, with no other vehicles around for any distance. He winced at the light and looked away.