Demon Empress

Chapter 8 - Escape

Iara felt Luc watch her departure. She sighed wistfully. How enjoyable of a companion would he have made if not for his bloodline!

“How does Master plan on getting out of the Fifth Ring?”

The calm, subservient voice interrupted her thoughts.

Iara glanced at Qaen. “I was going to take the train out.”

She waited for a question to follow, but surprisingly, Qaen kept his mouth shut. Unlike Luc, he didn’t ask how she intended to take a normal train out of the Fifth Ring with the Gatekeeper’s men guarding the gates and trains. Instead of demanding an explanation, he silently followed along, his head respectfully lowered.

Iara smiled fondly at him and cooed, “I knew you were smart.”

Having experienced the way his body had automatically responded to her commands earlier, Qaen had his own assumptions, so instead of pursuing the matter of how, he threw out a different question: “Where are we escaping to?”

Iara positively glowed at the question, seeming to liven back up into colour. “Wherever the first train out is going. I do hope it’s not up.”

Reality proved to disappoint.

Standing outside the bustling ticketing office, Qaen pointed at the overhead sign. “The next train out to a lower Ring is in two days. If we want to flee, we will have to take the one going up to the Fourth Ring.”

Iara’s gaze followed Qaen’s finger and landed where he pointed.

She frowned. The Fourth Ring was a place where rich merchants, mercenary guilds and upper-class demons resided. Although it was a Ring open to the public, it was a Ring of immense influence and wealth, and many nobles gathered here in their off-time for private affairs. It was a place that was difficult for her to move around freely in.

But Qaen was right: the next train headed for a lower Ring was in two whole days. Staring at the schedule, her frown deepened. “Why are there so many trains going to the Upper Rings? The trains are a system built for all demons. If there is an urgent matter, the Court is more than capable of flying to the First Ring.”

Surprisingly, Qaen answered the question for her. “A condemned human serving his time in the Ninth Ring managed to escape under the watch of the Ninth Ring guards and two of the Empress’ Demon Legions. The Judges are livid, particularly the Heavenly Judges — they’ve threatened the Hell Court that if they don’t manage to retrieve an imperial pardon for the escapee from the Bone Crown, they are going to call the Heavenly Council to carry out punishment for the crime of unbalancing A’Esha’s Fate Scales. But is the Court able to go beg the Silent Empress for an imperial pardon? The Demonic Judges and the Court are summoning all nobles to discuss a realm-wide search for the human. After all, a search like that is impossible without a force like the Empress’ Demon Legions, but the Legions only answer to the master of the Bone Crown.”

Iara arched her brows questioningly.

Qaen’s lips twitched. “I know because Gatekeeper Aluva set out two days ago for the First Ring because of this incident. Rona Aluva saw this as a chance to come slumming in the Fifth Ring with C’Rus Saine.”

Iara mulled over this new information. She was busy living quite an enjoyable life, and had kept her distance from the ruling class of Hell. She was completely disintegrated from political trends.

But this kind of thing happening, was it not a direct attack on the Empress?

A condemned human escaping from the Ninth Hell prisons was unprecedented. As the owner of the Bone Crown and Goddess A’Esha’s Messenger, to have a condemned human escape from their sentence was a felony of unbalancing A’Esha’s fate scales.

Iara smiled mirthlessly to herself. Was this not someone deliberately trying to finally summon El’Iaris to Court after her 500 years of silence? She had to acknowledge: to be able to sneak out a Ninth Ring prisoner, this person had admirable ability.

She sighed. “Pity that we have to leave so soon.”

Qaen looked at her.

Iara grinned. “Well. A Ninth Ring escapee, would he obviously not be in the Fifth Ring by now? We’re going to miss some very good entertainment.”

Qaen frowned. “How does Master know—”

Iara smiled. “Because anywhere else is too obvious.”

He stared at her as if she was speaking nonsense, but she ignored his confusion, shaking her head and stepping up to the ticketing booth. “Two tickets to the Fourth Ring, please.”

The ticket agent looked up and scanned them both. “Is one a slave ticket?”

Iara rolled her eyes. “Is he wearing a collar? Two regular tickets, please.”

The agent scowled. “280 eos.”

She passed over the money from her satchel. When she turned back around with the tickets in her hands, she saw Qaen staring at her, an unreadable expression painted on his features. “The slave tickets only cost 5 eos. Why didn’t you buy one instead?”

His abruptly innocent question made her laugh. “I can afford this much. I’d much prefer you be next to me than be put away in the slave carriage. How is a slave to be of use when he’s caged up far away?” But her voice trailed off as she spoke.

If the Hell trains had become the nobles’ means of personal transport, and they were feeling so comfortable in doing so that leaving their meat shields in a separate carriage had become a long-standing norm — perhaps, the Empress had truly left the Ebony Throne vacant for far too long.

Iara quickly shook herself out of her messy thoughts. “Never mind,” she said. “You’re stuck sitting with me. If you prefer taking the slave carriage, I’ll immediately go get a refund. It’s not as if these tickets are cheap.”

Qaen cracked a smile. “How could that be?” He grew somber as they neared the heavily-guarded Gates. “Does Master have identification papers? Before you answer —why do I feel that Master doesn’t?”

Iara nodded with approval. With great pride, she said: “You have judged me astutely, my slave. Your great master indeed doesn’t have any identifications on her.”

Qaen sighed. “Of course you don’t.”

She smirked. “Someone’s gotten quite comfortable. Not having a chunk of metal around your throat loosens you up, doesn’t it?” Seeing him stiffen, she continued, “Not that I’m bothered by it. After all, I am not someone with a prestigious and noble background like your past masters.”

Qaen watched her expressionlessly. “It’s true,” he said slowly after thinking. “You’re different and eccentric. You are not like my past masters, and I’ve quickly gotten comfortable around you.” He paused. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “But you terrify me like no other master has before.”

“Funny, that,” she responded lightly.

Qaen offered her a crooked smile of mixed sentiments. “So, how does Master intend to handle this?”