Page 58 of Hell Hath No Fury (Tear Down Heaven #4)
“Any disruptions now will be minuscule compared to what will happen if we can’t get this mess under control,” Alexander insisted. “I’ll take full responsibility. Just be ready to march the second I convince Father to open the doors.”
Of course, my prince, she said, sweetly this time. All shall be as you command.
More like all would be his fault if things didn’t work out, but Alexander had been doing this dance with his princess for a long, long, long time.
The ability to shove all the planning and responsibility onto someone else was a huge part of why she’d bowed to Gilgamesh in the first place.
So long as they both got credit for success, but only Alexander took the blame for failure, she’d execute his orders to the letter.
It was an arrangement that had served them both for centuries.
Alexander just hoped he could survive his part of the bargain this time.
He hadn’t had to report a disaster of this magnitude to his father since the purges.
If he’d been a younger, less established prince, this likely would’ve been his final audience, but Alexander’s position running the minutiae of the Eternal Kingdom was what enabled his father to work on all his other projects.
That made killing him extremely disruptive, and if there was one thing Gilgamesh hated even more than failure, it was inefficiency.
That was what had always saved Alexander in the past, so the Crown Prince put his faith in his father’s love of uninterrupted operation and pulled on the quintessence flowing through his veins to speak the sorcery he only ever used in situations like this.
“The ringing of the golden bell sounds for a thousand miles,” he whispered in his father’s ancient language, his one remaining eye squeezed tight in concentration.
“So shall the call of the faithful never fade to silence. Light of the Highest Heaven, give wings to my words so that even one as small as I may be heard. Bring my voice to the ears of my sacred king and let me know once again the blessing of his boundless wisdom.”
The full verse was a little much. Leander could have done that spell with a single word, but Alexander was not his brother, and he didn’t want to risk messing this up.
He still wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t.
Sorcery wasn’t one of his skills as a prince, but he must have gotten the incantation close enough.
Only ten seconds after he finished the final word, a deep, familiar voice spoke like the King of Heaven himself was standing right behind him, whispering into his prince’s ear.
“This had better be important.”
“It is of greatest urgency, my king,” Alexander assured him, bowing even though he knew this spell only transmitted voices. “I’m afraid we may have lost control over of the Middle and Lowest Hells.”
There was a long pause, and then his father asked, “Who is ‘we’?”
“As Crown Prince, the ultimate responsibility falls upon myself,” Alexander acknowledged immediately. “The other princes involved were Demetrios, whom I appointed to replace Leander in the Hells, and Prince Adrian.”
He’d felt the great Gilgamesh’s interest drifting as he gave his report, but the king’s attention snapped back at that last one. “What was Adrian doing in the Hells?”
“He claimed it was critical for his work on the Queen of Pride’s horns, sire.”
Now Gilgamesh sounded amused. “That clever witch,” he said with a chuckle. “He jumped to treason even faster than I expected.”
“He did,” Alexander agreed, clenching his fists under the avalanche of scrolls that were still falling onto his desk.
“And now we have a problem. Whether he was directly involved in the incident or not, Prince Adrian was in the Hells when the emergency doors came down. Since you’re the only one who can reverse a total lockdown, he’s trapped down there until you choose to let him out. ”
“I know how my own security system works,” his father said. “But I don’t believe such measures are necessary at the moment.”
“Not necessary?” Alexander repeated, shocked. “Sire, eight of the Nine Hells are inaccessible!”
“Which means the demons inside them are still trapped.”
“For now,” Alexander said. “But there’s no guarantee they’ll stay that way. My Crown Princess has also informed me that the Edict of Eight Voices was implemented and failed . The order to kneel was countermanded by the—”
“The Queen of Pride,” Gilgamesh finished. “I’m aware.”
Alexander fell into silent shock. When he didn’t say anything for thirty seconds, his father began to laugh.
“Come now, Alexander,” the king’s disembodied voice said cheerily.
“Surely you didn’t think I was actually ignoring my youngest and most dangerous progeny?
I left Adrian to his own devices precisely because I knew he’d work harder if he thought he was getting away with something.
I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting a full resurrection, but Adrian’s uncanny knack for pulling miracles out of his pointy hat is precisely why I picked him for this job in the first place. ”
“I see,” said Alexander, even though he didn’t. “In that case, how would you like me to proceed? I’ve ordered my princess to ready her war demons to retake the other Hells the moment you open the doors. She can also subdue and return Prince Adrian, if you so desire.”
There was a long pause, like Gilgamesh was thinking it over, then the king said, “No.”
“No?” the Crown Prince repeated nervously.
“I don’t believe such measures will be necessary,” his father clarified.
“I’ve already gotten what I needed from Adrian.
I gave him the impossible task of repairing the Queen of Pride’s horns, and he pulled it off in less than a week!
Next to an accomplishment like that, the fact that Pride’s crown is on her head rather than in my hands is a minor complaint.
We were overdue for a thinning of the demon herds anyway, so I say let it fall. ”
“I’m not sure I understand, sir,” Alexander said with a swallow. “What am I letting fall?”
“All of it,” Gilgamesh replied, his voice rich with long-awaited satisfaction.
“The Hells are an evil whose necessity has finally come to an end. Prince Adrian, too, has already served his purpose. Asking more from him at this point would be greed unbecoming of a king. I’ve got enough to do what I need, so I think it’s best for all involved if we cut our losses and proceed to Protocol Three. ”
The prince jolted so hard that he nearly fell out of his golden chair. “Protocol Three?” he repeated when he’d recovered. “But that will—don’t you think that’s a bit—”
“Alexander.”
The voice in his ear was no louder than before, but the edge on it was enough to make the prince go still.
“Now is not the time to disappoint me,” Gilgamesh warned.
“Never forget that I didn’t make you my Crown Prince merely because you’re my eldest surviving son.
You earned that position through your own merit when you proved that I could trust you to follow orders.
I made myself quite clear just now. Do we need to discuss this further? ”
“No, Father,” Alexander replied, clutching his desk. “I understand you perfectly. I only hesitated because Leander is still undergoing punishment in the Lowest Hells. If I activate Protocol Three—”
“There you go, being soft on him again,” the king scolded. “I told Leander before— you told him yourself that he wasn’t getting any more chances. Your brother made his decisions knowing what the consequences would be. Anything that happens from here on is his fault, not yours.”
“I understand that,” Alexander whispered, clenching his hands tighter. “It’s just… He’s my favorite brother.”
“I know,” his father told him gently. “And I deeply respect that loyalty, but you can’t make excuses for him forever. You’re the one who thought this situation was so dire that you contacted me after I expressly stated I was not to be disturbed. Are you doubting your own judgment?”
“Of course not,” Alexander said. “But—”
“Then handle the problem,” Gilgamesh ordered. “Protocol Three. I’ll be down to open the doors once I’m certain the treatment has been effective, and we’ll go collect the Queen of Pride’s repaired horns from her corpse together. Does that sound good?”
“Yes, Father, ” Alexander whispered.
“Excellent,” Gilgamesh said. “You’re my best, Alexander.
I’m counting on you to see this through.
We’re so close to the future we’ve always wanted, the day we all get to finally escape our fate as the gods’ eternal jailers.
I’d hate to stumble here at the end because you allowed your pity for a foolish brother to get in our way. ”
The Crown Prince lowered his head. “I would never hinder your mission, my king,” he said quietly. “It will be done.”
“There’s my loyal prince,” his father whispered as his voice began to fade. “Well done, my son. Well done.”
The praise vanished into nothing, leaving Alexander alone in his office once again. He sat in the silence for as long as he could bear, and then he pushed back his chair to open his top desk drawer.
Because fate was cruel, the first thing he saw when he pulled it open was the folded square of blue silk he’d confiscated from the broken Princess of Sorrow before he’d sent her to be reverted.
The sight of it made him feel like a villain, but as his father had just reminded him, Leander had been warned many times.
He’d chosen his fate with open eyes, and while Alexander would mourn him for the rest of his life, his hand didn’t hesitate as he moved the folded fabric aside to grab the book-sized golden box beneath it.
Inside was a shaped velvet cushion with notches for three keys. Each was crafted from a different metal and marked with a different number. Alexander chose the last in the lineup: a heavy sin-iron skeleton key stamped with an elegant numeral 3.
When he had it in his fingers, he rose from his throne-like chair and carried the key to a small golden panel hidden in the corner of his office behind a curtain.
The panel swung open the moment he touched it, revealing three keyholes.
After a slight hesitation, Alexander fit the black key into the final slot and turned it, sealing his favorite brother’s fate—and the fate of every other soul in the Hells—with a soft, resolute click .