Demon Empress

Chapter 9 - The Trains

Iara smiled charmingly. “Well, if you mean your lack of manners as a slave, I don’t intend to do anything about it. If you’re talking about my lack of identification papers… Well, we’ll play it by ear. Maybe they won’t ask for it!”

Qaen sighed. He knew this woman would have a way for it — somehow, he knew, if she was truly the type of demon he thought she was — that she would have a method to get through the guards to the platforms beyond the Gate.

He felt asking questions like these to such a powerful demon was silly, but her relaxed and careless behaviour and attitude made that cruel, mirthless face easy to forget.

They queued up for one of the Gate guards. Each way out had two Gate guards and two Demon Legion soldiers standing guard. Each traveller had to pass over their identifications and vouch for their slaves if they had one.

“They’ll be extra picky with the papers, what with the Ninth Ring escapee situation. Besides, it’s highly likely that Rona Aluva already sent her orders to the men here to detain us.”

Iara nodded to acknowledge that she agreed, but she didn’t seem fazed. Instead, she took another lazy step forward as the queue shuffled along.

Qaen shook his head. If it ended up in a fight, he would fight with her. If she was forced to flee, he supposed he would have to flee, too.

They finally stepped up to the inspecting guards.

“Let us through,” Iara instructed calmly without greeting or explanation.

Confusion, incredulity and anger twisted the guard’s face, but strangely, instead of arguing, he waved them on forward.

“You’re very kind,” Iara said very naturally, completely unsurprised. She easily brushed past the stiff guard, glancing back over her shoulder at Qaen. “Qaen, come. We don’t want to miss the train.”

Qaen followed slowly, his feet heavy. He had seen the panic and bewilderment in the guard’s eyes as he stepped aside; the helplessness of not being able to disobey to that irrefutable will reflected in his eyes.

Qaen had spent centuries feeling it from the slave collars restricting him — and he had felt a force just like it, only many times more powerful than the impulsions the collars provided, when he had kneeled to choose Iara over freedom.

He saw the way the Legion soldiers glanced curiously at the guard who let them pass without papers, but seeing Iara’s face, they quickly turned their gazes away, as if they had not seen her at all. They were let through in this manner without further ado, and they stepped through the Gate onto the train platforms.

Below the platforms where they stood, an endless and deep abyss stretched on. Legends claimed that the Two-Faced Mother A’Esha was slumbering in the deepest, darkest pits of the abyss. The First Ring sat at the very top of the layers of Hell, the furthest away from where A’Esha lay, and the lower Rings below it were each more spacious and stable than the last, formed in a downward spiral that grew in size at the bottom. Lower-ranked demons found it extremely difficult for their wings to support the heavenly pressure from above them without A’Esha’s breath close to them. There was one long road that crossed all the way through Hell, from the Ninth Ring to the First Ring, but the journey was so perilous that even nobles avoided it. There had been no easy method of climbing back up after flying down if a demon overestimated himself—

This was until the Empress instilled the Hell trains. It was the one and only thing the Empress had done in governing Hell since rising to the Ebony Throne. There was a rumour that the nameless, nobody Empress no one knew of had climbed from one of the lower Rings to the First Ring using the spiral road. She had suffered on her way to the Challenge Grounds — what had happened to the Emperor and the Twelve Commanders of the Emperor’s Demon Legions was still a mystery.

Looking at the demoness peering over the edge of the platform curiously, like a child, a cold sense of foreboding crept up on Qaen. He felt that since had had agreed to stay with Iara, this girl had become much more unabashed about openly displaying her strength in front of him. She wasn’t hiding, but the more blatant she was, the less he dared to guess her identity.

As if feeling his stare, Iara turned around from where she crouched on the edge of the platform precariously. “Look, do you think I’ll be able to see the Sixth Ring under us if I lean over?”

Qaen felt his mouth turn dry. “Don’t do that.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You’re no fun. Do some sightseeing! How often does one get to see the abyss up so close?”

He sighed, gesturing. “Get out of the way if you don’t want to lose your nose. The train is due to arrive.”

As a slave, he had spoken rather rudely, but Iara only responded with a bored grunt and rose, dusting herself off. He would have never spoken in this manner to any other demon master, but strangely, this woman didn’t feel like a master to him.

But it wasn’t to say he didn’t fear her. If anything—

The process of tidying out the knotted emotions in his heart was interrupted by a bright beam of piercing light and a loud, heart-wrenchingly blaring sound that came from the abyss.

The train moved at an absurdly fast pace and lurched to an abrupt stop at the platform. The demon-steel doors creaked and slid open with a loud clang, revealing dimly lit corridors with faded carpets.

Out of them first came the ticket agents who took their places outside each carriage, and passengers followed after them, handing over their tickets and exiting the trains one by one. When no one else who wanted to get off in the Fifth Ring remained inside, the ticket agents turned their attention to the demons mingling on the platform.

They were all very orderly, climbing in without causing a fuss. After all, the train tickets were expensive, and there were always more than enough seats left over. One by one, they stepped up to the ticketing agent.

When Iara handed over the two regular tickets for them, the agent’s gaze naturally fell behind Iara on the collarless human, but the moment passed quickly. He had seen a lot of nobles with their human pets in these trains. Although this demoness didn’t dress or carry herself like a noble, she was an incredible beauty, as was the human she kept. If this woman wasn’t a noble slumming for entertainment, he would eat his own hand.

Bowing slightly, he plastered a smile onto his face and said in a fawning manner: “We will upgrade Madam’s ticket to a first-class private cabin. Madam, please take your slave and go to the first carriage. Tell the agent there that it was V’Shac who upgraded your ticket.”

Qaen glanced at Iara, trying to gauge her influence, but he was surprised to find that her expression wasn’t good. A deadly, bored coldness flickered and danced in her dark eyes.

V’Shac’s face immediately paled like a sheet. He was staring at something in Iara’s beautiful face in horror, as if he couldn’t look away.

Qaen hesitated, then reached for Iara’s shoulder — his hand trembled. After a moment of internal conflict, he finally dared drop his hand on her shoulder. She jolted at the contact, and her head swivelled around, her cruel eyes clouded with momentary confusion as she frowned at him.

“Many thanks,” Qaen said to V’Shac with a calm he didn’t feel. Reaching around Iara, he quickly pulled her away, half-dragging her to the first carriage.

“Regardless of the reason why, an upgrade to a private cabin is good. Master can rest up a bit.”

She looked as if she wanted to say something, but simply shook her head in the end. “No use creating a fuss here, now, is that what you’re trying to say?”

He gave her a look.

She waved it away before he could start protesting: “Alright, alright. I understand.”

The ticket agent taking care of the first carriage was extremely friendly when he heard who had referred them over. Leaving everyone else in wait, he personally guided them to their cabin, and repeatedly made sure there was “nothing else that they needed”.

Qaen promptly and decisively slid the doors shut in his bewildered face. Turning around to face the cabin, he found his master already settled comfortably on one side with her legs up on her seats. Noticing him looking, she gestured vaguely at the opposite seat.

He didn’t take the seat. Sighing, he went to her, reaching into the overhead compartment and withdrawing a throw provided there for the guests. Spreading it over her and tucking the loose edges in, he said, “Get some rest. I will watch over you while you do.”

Iara snuggled into the throw and seat, despite grumbling: “Who wants to be watched over by you? Who knows if you’ll murder me in my sleep.”

She said that, but soon after pinning this great crime on him, she quickly and easily drifted asleep. She didn’t wake for the entirety of the train ride.