‘Why would he take me to the European Heavens?’ Michael said. The Asian Shen had been trying for years to contact their European counterparts. If he could enter the European Heavens, he could discover why the European Shen were absolutely quiet and didn’t respond to any of the Asian Shen’s overtures. The fact that the Asian Demon King could travel there was seriously disturbing and this was a brilliant opportunity to find out exactly what was going on.
‘You’re the biggest son of the White Tiger,’ the demon said. ‘But better than that, you’re half-European and they may talk to you. Your mother was descended from the European Serpent people. Do you know about them?’
‘There were Serpent people in Europe?’
‘It’s a long story.’ Number One smiled and covered it by rubbing his mouth. ‘Suffice to say your mother was just as much demon as she was human. Considering what your father is, you should be glad you were Raised to Immortality the old-fashioned way and didn’t attempt to take the Elixir – it would probably do the same thing to you that it did to your dear old mum.’
Michael inhaled sharply. ‘You know why my mother exploded?’
‘I just told you, didn’t I? She was a human-demon mix. So are you.’ The demon studied him carefully. ‘You and me together could probably take my father down, you know. I could rule in Hell, and you could go home to your girlfriend.’
‘You think I’d work with you after what you did to her? She’s a blind paraplegic with serious PTSD after what you demons did to her. She’s a broken husk of what she used to be.’ His voice thickened. ‘She thought I’d be her knight in shining armour and ride in to rescue her, and I never did because they told me she was dead.’
‘It was Dad that did it to her, not me. Even more reason for you to kill him, eh? I want him gone as well – he’s negotiating with the European demons. Those bastards will end up controlling the Asian demons, the same way they colonised and controlled Asia during the Opium Wars. I won’t let that happen, and you can help me stop him. We can work together.’
Michael hesitated. The demon was right. Michael also knew in personal and excruciating detail exactly how much success he could expect if he made a pact with demons.
‘I’ll just go check out the European Heavens, thanks. Sounds like fun.’
‘Don’t let them take any genetic material,’ the demon said. ‘If they give you a sample jar, whatever you do, don’t fill it. They want to make copies of you.’
Michael winced. More copies. This Demon King made copies of humans, demons and Celestials and using them as spies, and only the Dark Lord himself could distinguish some of them. A copy of Michael could be inserted into his father’s palace undetected, and provide the demons with limitless information on the Celestial plans. Once he had enough intelligence, Michael needed to blow his brains out as quickly as he could and go home to Asia.
The demon nodded. ‘If it comes to a choice of killing yourself or giving them a genetic sample, choose death.’
‘Why are you helping me?’
Number One leaned back in his seat and smiled. ‘You’re really asking me that?’
‘I won’t help you take down your father.’
‘Just by talking to me, Prince Michael, you already are.’ The demon glanced out the window. ‘From here you’ll go on a private jet. Dad and Francis are in Europe waiting for you.’
‘Who’s Francis?’
‘King of the European Demons,’ Number One said with venom. ‘He has seduced our King with tales of power and is planning to rule us all.’ The van stopped and he slid the door open. ‘We have similar goals, Prince Michael. Both of us want to see the Asian King taken down. I can’t come to the European Heavens, they’re too far from my Centre. Only Dad and half-European demons can do it, with Francis’s help. I’m counting on you to help me stop the Europeans from enslaving us all.’ He took Michael’s arm. ‘Pretend to still be drugged and dazed, so they won’t wonder why you haven’t escaped. Come around on the plane – by then it will be too late for you to escape.’
Michael half-closed his eyes and leaned on Number One as he was led from the van to the small waiting business jet.
He didn’t have time to see where he was before he was dragged up the stairs into the private jet and the door closed behind him. He kept his eyes half-closed as a demon Duke in female human form pushed him into a large comfortable seat.
Her presence remained in front of him for a long moment, then she spoke. ‘You’re pretending to be unconscious. Can you speak, Prince Michael?’
His limbs were still like lead and he didn’t need to fake the struggle to sit upright and be fully conscious. ‘Huh?’
‘Let me know when you’re able to talk.’
‘I can talk,’ he said, his words slurred.
She turned and sat in the chair across from him, and waved towards the back of the plane. ‘Can I get you anything? There’s food and drinks back there. Dad says you’re to be treated like the royalty you are.’
Michael pulled himself out of the chair and staggered to the back of the plane.
‘Let me,’ she said, trying to help him, but he pushed her away.
He pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge, then went back to his seat, fell into it and had a long drink. He tasted the bitterness and spat the water back into the bottle, but had already consumed most of it.
‘You didn’t need to do that,’ he said. ‘I want to see the European Heavens. I won’t try to escape.’ He looked inside himself, studying the way the opium was slowing his nervous system, and tried to reverse the effect, but he had been drugged and bashed too many times to retain the concentration he needed. His eyes closed by themselves. ‘Stop… drugging…’
His head was still pounding when the loud roar of the jets woke him a long time later. He remained completely still and attempted to contact his father. Nothing.
Rohan. Nothing. William. Nothing. What the hell?
‘Are you awake there, Highness?’ the demon said.
Michael pulled his sluggish body upright. ‘Do you have anything to drink that isn’t drugged?’
The demon passed him a bottle of energy drink; probably a good idea to have some sugar after all he’d been through. He popped the top and took a sip; it tasted clean so he drank it quickly, nearly giving himself a brain freeze from the cold. He took a few gasping breaths, drank some more, and rested his head in his hands. ‘You wouldn’t have any Panadol as well, would you?’
‘Sorry, things like that don’t work on us,’ the demon said. ‘Just to warn you; touch the wall of the plane.’
Michael ran his hand over the surface of the wall and then snapped it back; the wall of the plan was so full of anguish and suffering that it hurt. He’d heard about this, but never experienced it in person. The wall had been painted with the ground remains of stone Shen. Intelligent, sentient creatures had died in terror and pain, then been powdered and painted on the walls. The surface echoed with their screams, and fear emanated from it. No wonder there was no communication through that.
‘Can’t teleport either,’ the demon said. ‘Nifty, eh? The pilot’s human; if you break out of the plane to escape you’ll kill him.’
‘I won’t escape. I want to see the European Heavens,’ Michael said.
‘Oh,’ the demon said. ‘Information gathering?’
‘Of course.’ Michael studied the wall of the plane. ‘How many stones died to make this?’
‘On this plane alone, thirty-three stone Shen,’ the demon said. ‘We’re running out of them.’