Scala

Chapter 2

2

Over the next hour, we do the sketchiest patch job on a Cloud Carrier, ever. It won’t be a solid fix until Walker comes by, but it should be enough for Adair’s inspection. In fact, my repair team has just left the Tower when Adair appears in the doorway.

“Greetings, Great Scala.”

She’s a pale girl with pinched features, long blonde hair and the mismatched eyes that mark every thrax. She wears a butter-yellow gown, which is the color of her House, Acca. Behind her steps the Ghoul Delegate, a seven-foot-tall man in a flowing black robe. He has a colorless, scarred face and pronounced limp. The Angelic Delegate is with them, too. She’s an elderly grandma-type with ebony skin and a shock of white hair. We aren’t on diplomatic terms with Hell anymore, so there’s no demon representative.

Adair marches across the floor, her mismatched eyes glaring red-hot death in my direction. Meh. She can kiss my ass.

The group stops before me. Cissy steps forward, looking very official in her Senatorial robes. There’s a glimmer in her eye that I like very much, indeed. I’ve known Cissy since we were kids, and that look means one thing: whatever interference she ran for me with Adair, it’s goooooooooood.

“Greetings, Great Scala,” says Cissy smoothly. “As the Thrax Senator for Diplomacy, I’m here to witness the inspection of this Ghost Tower followed by an official announcement from the Thrax Dele—” Cissy pauses dramatically, tapping her chin. “Ah, how silly of me to forget. Before we begin, I’ve had a rush communiqué from Antrum. A special message for the Great Scala.” She reaches into her robes and pulls out a small silver envelope. Lincoln’s seal is mighty visible. Nice.

Cissy is a genius. Now, Adair will spend her time obsessing over that message and—with any luck—not inspect anything during her inspection of the Cloud Carriers. I could kiss Cissy right now.

“Here’s the message.” My best friend offers me the envelope with a flourish. “There’s been a demon sighting in Purgatory. The High Prince will be taking care of this personally. He requests that you join him for the battle.” She looks meaningfully to Adair. “Details are in this letter.”

I take the envelope and smile, smile, smile. “Thank you, Senator.” I could do my happy dance, I’m so pumped. Cissy must’ve pulled some strings to find a demon to kill and get a rush courier over to Antrum, all in an hour. What a girl. And demon fighting with Lincoln? Today is definitely on the upswing.

Adair stares at the envelope in my hands, and then looks to Cissy. “Weren’t there any messages from Prince Lincoln for me?”

“Nothing for you,” says Cissy slyly. “Now, you wanted to perform an inspection that would be followed by a formal announcement. What in the Tower would you like to inspect?”

Adair looks around the Tower floor. “Is Lead Warden Celia here? She could give me some guidance.”

“No, she’s got the day off.” Glad I gave it to her, too, considering that Adair’s asking for guidance from her. Unfortunately, that means my Celia may be Adair’s source about our troubles with the Ghost Towers. Note to self: look into this situation ASAP. I hate the thought of firing Celia, but it may come to that.

Adair glances at the Cloud Carriers, but her gaze keeps flickering back to the silver envelope, which I’ve decided to use as a fan.

Cissy rocks on her heels. “We’re waiting.”

“Everything seems fine,” says Adair quickly. “Thank you, Senator.”

“You’re most welcome. And now, you have an announcement for us?”

“That I do.” Adair straightens the neckline of her medieval-style gown. “My esteemed colleagues, I’m here today to announce that as Thrax Delegate to Purgatory, I’ve launched a formal investigation of the Ghost Towers. I have it on good authority that these things are ready to explode, releasing millions of angry ghosts onto Purgatory’s streets. And when spirits are this furious, they can tear down buildings, break through walls, even kill people.” She makes a stabbing motion with her arm, miming murder.

“We all know what angry ghosts can do, Adair.” But thanks for the theatrics.

She rounds on me. “It’s a catastrophe waiting to happen, and it’s all due to your mismanagement. These Towers ran fine when the ghouls were here.”

“The ghouls didn’t have to deal with Lucifer’s Orb,” I say. “Do you know what the Orb does?”

“Please. Per Inter-Realm law, it’s my role to ask questions in a formal investigation.” Adair pulls a sheet of paper from her pocket. “Let’s begin. The souls in this Ghost Tower seem perfectly ready for Heaven or Hell. Why don’t you use your Scala powers and move them all at once, in a big iconigration?”

“I tried. I could only move them all to Hell.” In fact, I barely stopped the iconigration in time, not that I’m telling her that. “As I started to say before, Lucifer’s Orb is now in Purgatory. You know what that means, right?”

“No.” Adair shrugs. “Should I?”

I stare at her for a long minute. Could she really be that oblivious to the challenges facing Soul Processing in Purgatory? She is our Thrax Diplomat, after all. There’s a smug, know-it-all look in her eyes that confirms my worst suspicions. She’s absolutely and blissfully oblivious.

“Here’s the deal. The Orb is the ultimate source of demonic power in the after-realms. Right now, it’s forcing me to send all souls to Hell. Long story short, I’m not sending spirits anywhere until the Orb is gone.”

Adair taps her chin. “And there are no other reasons preventing you from moving souls?”

“Like what?”

“Your grip on igni, for instance. Maybe the problem isn’t that Lucifer’s Orb is too strong. Could be, you’re too weak.”

“Weak? I sent Armageddon to Hell with my powers.”

“You were strong at one time, sure. But now? I see it as my job to use my unique knowledge of igni to assess your current state. After all, I was initiated Scala Heir by Verus, the Queen of the Angels.”

I set my fist on my hip. I can’t believe she’s bringing up that sham initiation. Verus only did a fake ceremony with Adair in order to activate my real powers. Adair even admitted as much herself.

“Come on. Don’t you remember? We were all in a bunker, right before my battle with Armageddon. That’s when you came clean that your initiation was a sham. You even confessed how your witch-friend Gianna faked your power over igni.”

Adair does an awesome job of looking totally shocked. “I don’t remember that at all.”

“Senator Frederickson was in the bunker with us.” I turn to Cissy. “Do you remember the Diplomat’s confession?”

“Vividly.”

Adair rests her fingertips against her throat and sighs. “The friendship between the two of you is touching, really touching. But it won’t stop this investigation.” Translation: she’s saying that Cissy’s lying for me. My blood starts to boil with rage.

The Ghoul Delegate raises his hand. “What should we do about the Ghost Towers? I, for one, am very concerned. I’d appreciate some insight from the Thrax Delegate.”

Note to self: hate that guy.

“I don’t know yet,” Adair says with a sad shake of her head. “The mismanagement issues here are pretty severe. I need time to complete my investigation.”

My hands ball into angry fists. Mismanagement issues? This has gone too far. Either I bash Adair on her turned-up nose, or I call an end to this meeting.

Le sigh. As satisfying as a punch would be, it would only give Adair more fodder to make trouble.

“Great idea to investigate,” I say sternly. “Why don’t you go do that? Like, somewhere else?” I point to the door. “And right now?”

Adair neatly refolds her paper and resets it into her pocket. “Agreed. I’ll depart, if that’s acceptable to you, Senator.”

Cissy waves her hand towards the exit portal. “You’re all free to go.”

“Thank you for your time today.” Adair grips my hands in her own. “Good luck.”

I wince. Adair’s palms feel cold, clammy and stomach-churningly gross. I release them quickly. “Good-bye, Adair.”

“Follow me, people.” Adair finally walks away, happily chatting with her two diplomatic colleagues. No doubt, she’s telling them horror stories about how the Ghost Towers will explode any second.

Once they’re gone, I lean my head back and groan. “Oy. I really need to kill me some demons.” I raise the silver envelope. “This was your handiwork, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. I thought it would keep her inspection short, at least.”

“It totally did. She’d have actually inspected something if it weren’t for you. By the way, how’d you find the demon so quickly?” Only a real sighting would’ve called out a thrax warrior.

A mischievous look crosses Cissy’s face. “I might have imported it. Let’s just say I owe the Furor Delegate a big favor.”

“Damn, girlfriend. You wheeler-dealer you. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Cissy frowns. “Now, are you ready for the really-bad news?”

That’s right. When I first saw Cissy, she said she had bad news and really-bad news.

“Oops, I forgot about that part. Spill.”

“You know how Walker had almost found Lucifer’s Orb?”

My stomach sinks to my toes. I don’t like where this is going. “Yeeeeeeeeah. He was digging up a crypt in Lower Purgatory.”

“Well, the Orb wasn’t in the crypt. They finally got it open. There was a coffin inside, but it was empty.”

“Not good.”

“Well, not entirely empty. A riddle was carved inside it.”

“Better. What does it say?”

“No idea. Walker’s trying to figure it out.”

My tail pounds my thigh in frustration. “Does Walker have any idea when he’ll find the Orb?”

Cissy shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Myla.”

“Damn. If we run out of Soul Storage, I don’t have a lot of options. I can’t send these folks to Hell.”

“Hang in there. You’re doing the right thing. Look, I can stall on the announcement of Adair’s investigation. The office of the President is the only group that has to know for now. That’ll keep things quiet from the public, at least for a little while longer.”

“Good idea. With any luck, we keep this under the radar until the Orb is history.”

Cissy wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Besides, Walker’s brilliant. If anyone can find the Orb quickly, he can.” She points towards the door. “Plus, your old station wagon’s already waiting outside.”

“Betsy?”

“None other.”

What a great idea for Cissy to drop off my old wagon. Betsy’s such a piece of crap; no one would suspect the Great Scala would tool around in it. I drive her when I want to go incognito.

“Come on, quasi girl,” says Cissy. “I know you’ve been fixing Ghost Tower emergencies all day. Go kill stuff. You’ll feel better.”

“Thanks.” I grin from ear to ear. “You know what? I definitely will.”