Lich for Hire

Ambrose tried matching the syllables one by one with Milena, but he couldn't reconstruct a single complete sentence. What he did manage to do was summon a handful of small lemures by mangling the infernal tongue.

The language of devils carried Hell's power. Whether spoken aloud or written down, it could open a channel to the infernal planes. Many cultists liked to play with this to summon a few minor infernal creatures and try to bind them to their will. Most of them failed at the binding and were eaten for their trouble.

That was what came of mumbling in a language you didn't understand.

After summoning a third lemure, Ambrose gave up on the approach.

"That archduchess of Hell really did set me a difficult problem."

He tapped his skull. The hollow sound failed to spark anything in his mind.

His dice of fate couldn't divine anything related to gods, and an archduchess of Hell qualified as a god. The matter was outside his ability.

He could potentially join up with Mr. Misfortune again and attempt another divination, but the moment the thought formed, a sense of danger followed.

This was effectively a different angle on the same moment in time as their last divination. Trying again would earn him a slap from the Goddess of Fate.

The problem was that Milena didn't know the infernal tongue. There was no time to teach her now. He couldn't even take her soul apart to examine the memory.

What you didn't understand registered only vaguely in your memory, much as Domina Lowry's dream couldn't reproduce the contents of a contract she'd never been able to read.

So Milena was a dead end, and Sariel was a dead end.

But besides Milena and Sariel, who else might know of the secret?

Ambrose stood there thinking. He had no idea how much time had passed by the time Black Rose finally finished her conversation with the Lady of Mists and came looking for him. Even then, he still hadn't worked out an answer.

Black Rose saw him standing there in a daze and turned to Milena. "What is your father doing? Did the summoning ritual go badly?"

Milena could only relate everything that had happened.

"You let something this important slip away?" Black Rose was displeased. The girl was a little dim. Anything this important should have gone straight into a memory crystal. It was only common sense.

Still, she couldn't bear seeing Ambrose troubled. "If it really comes down to it, we can simply leave the tiflings to their fate. Even if Lyon wins, it'll take them years to consolidate the territory. The Lord of Dawn's Holy Light will need time to spread there as well."

Mid-thought, Ambrose felt an idea snap into place. "What did you just say?"

Black Rose repeated, puzzled, "I said, we should leave the tiflings to their fate."

"No, not that. The last bit!"

"The last bit... that the Holy Light needs time to spread?"

A lightbulb flashed above Ambrose's head. "I've got it! Thanks to you, I know how to recover Tiamat's lost words!"

Black Rose had no idea what she'd done. Had she just inadvertently cast a Wish? How had he figured things out so suddenly?

Ambrose didn't have time to explain. He opened his extradimensional space and summoned Naomi.

Another beautiful young woman—Black Rose was almost used to it by now. But on closer inspection, she exclaimed, "I think I've seen this girl before."

Ambrose didn't have a moment to spare for introductions. He turned to Naomi. "Rewind time at this exact location. Don't rewind everything. I just want the sounds that were here earlier."

His own power couldn't reach Sariel, and neither could he extract the answer from Milena's soul. But the information had passed from Sariel to Milena through a physical medium.

Sariel had spoken with her mouth, and Milena had perceived the sound.

If he could reproduce the vibrations of the air that made up the information, he would know exactly what Sariel had said.

Naomi didn't ask any questions. She loyally executed Ambrose's instructions.

The power of time flowed through her fingertips, and the air began to move in reverse. Faint, indistinct sounds soon emerged.

The power of time could be applied with great precision. In much the same way, the temporal stasis within Ambrose's extradimensional space only affected designated targets within, and wouldn't impede Ambrose if he were to reach out and slap their faces.

Naomi's reversal of time on the air alone wouldn't reproduce the two figures who had been speaking, nor Sariel's perceptual barrier.

The Archduchess of Hell's words could now be heard by anyone present.

Ambrose extended his perception, capturing every sound carefully, and had Naomi replay the recording several times.

Black Rose was astonished that Naomi could wield the power of time, but didn't dare interrupt Ambrose. She waited until he had finished.

"Did it work?" she asked.

Ambrose nodded. "Without Sariel's magic causing the voice to carry, the sound has been heavily distorted, but I caught the essence of what she said."

"You don't seem pleased about it, though."

Ambrose sighed. "No. It's not good news. Devils' bargains always favor them. My senior is in serious trouble, and I don't know how to break the news to him."

"Will it affect you?"

"Me? Not particularly. I can walk away whenever I like."

"Good. Go on, then. Whatever you need from me, just ask."

Black Rose's steady support gave Ambrose a measure of peace. In truth, though, this was something she really couldn't help with.

"I'm heading back to the Unholy Kingdom. Lady Rose, just proceed with the plan to turn those Lyon officers into undead. I'll handle the rest."

Black Rose could see that Ambrose was determined to push forward. There was no talking him out of it. "Be careful, and know that my teleportation array will always be open to you."

"Thank you."

Ambrose took his leave and hurried back to the Unholy Kingdom.

He had to tell Mr. Misfortune about Tiamat's plan immediately, or things would get out of hand.

For a diviner, finding someone wasn't difficult. Two teleportation arrays into the Unholy Kingdom brought Ambrose to the place he'd once known best: Redriver.

This was where he had swindled the young elven king, where he had killed one of Loss's chosen, and where he had spent so many years as an adventurer.

But Ambrose had no time to take in how Redriver had changed. He found Mr. Misfortune as quickly as he could, sitting and chatting with a guest over tea.

The man across from Mr. Misfortune was a young-looking tifling in full military dress—a senior officer in the Unholy Kingdom's army, by the look of him.

When Mr. Misfortune saw Ambrose, he frowned. "What is it?"

"Urgent business."

"Even urgent business can wait a little." Mr. Misfortune turned back to the young tifling. "I've told you what's coming. I trust you to make the right choice. The future of this kingdom rests with the younger generation now."

The young tifling didn't reply. He bowed to Mr. Misfortune and turned to leave.

"That's the officer you're trying to flip?" Ambrose asked.

Mr. Misfortune shook his head. "Don't call it flipping. I'm just telling them in advance that the Hellgate defenses will collapse so they can prepare for it. Now, what's so urgent?"

Ambrose sighed. "I've found new information about the contract the Impure signed. Brace yourself."

Mr. Misfortune's hands trembled slightly. He drew several deep breaths before answering. "Tell me. It's not likely to frighten me to death."

"Our earlier guess was right. The Hellgates were part of Sariel's deal with the tiflings. If the Hellgates can hold off Lyon's invasion, then on the appointed day, the entirety of the Unholy Kingdom will fall into Hell as Sariel's territory. But there's a second lord of Hell involved: the Dragon Queen, Tiamat."

Mr. Misfortune's expression darkened.

"Tiamat? She's part of this too? No wonder you're so on edge. She's not a dark goddess anyone wants to deal with."

Tiamat's reputation was universal. She had a fondness for founding cults, and any business that she was part of was guaranteed to be the kind of trouble no one wanted.

"Don't react yet. The worse part is still coming. The contract has two components. Sariel's claim is on the entire kingdom. Tiamat's claim is on every tifling who carries the bloodline of the Impure. The terms are this: if the Impure fail to protect the Hellgates and any of them are destroyed, then every tifling descended from the Impure goes to Hell. The Impure have ruled this kingdom for over a thousand years. How many bloodline descendants do they have at this point?"

Mr. Misfortune answered with a tremor in his voice, "At least two or three million, and all of them in significant positions. Every general, every official in the kingdom is a descendant of the Impure."

Ambrose let out a hollow laugh. "If they hadn't been so greedy and had left even a few positions for the other families, it wouldn't have come to this. The moment those few million tiflings fall to Hell, the Unholy Kingdom's command structure will be paralyzed. There won't be anything left to fight for by that point!"