Xyla smiled at me.

“We’re all pretty different, aren’t we?” Valeria asked. “And yet you like all of us for who we are, don’t you?”

“Yes.” That I knew already.

“And do you like Zargaza, for what she is? Because she’s not much like any of the rest of us, either. Well, maybe she’s a little like Xyla. Aggressive, I mean. But Xyla’s cute about it, and Zargaza is more, well, rawrrrrr.”

“Huh. Yeah, I – well, sometimes she’s a little much, but at the same time, yes, I do appreciate her for her. And taming her too much might change who she was, you know?”

Valeria nodded. “You’re still our Queen, Abby. You have freedom to do as you like, but responsibility, too.”

I never thought I was allergic to the word responsibility. I held myself accountable pretty well, I thought. But it was usually responsibility to myself, or being accountable for being a good person. My responsibility for my lovers ended when they were away, possibly with someone else, and started when we had a date. Even then, we were always two independent beings.

But Valeria was right. I had obligations. To my wives. To my lovers. To Kathy and Talos. To the forest. To the orcs and trolls who saw me as the true power in the area and had established webs of interdependence with me through trade.

Fuck, I probably had a pretty big obligation to the demons of Tartarus, and I hadn’t begun to understand it.

And, of course, I had an obligation to protect Amaranth, and to protect Earth, from the consequences of the gate.

For all that, I wouldn’t trade my life now for the largely obligation-free life I’d valued so much before I’d assembled the puzzle in my basement. And that would have been true even if I hadn’t found out how much I enjoyed being in Abby’s body.

Probably.

“True,” I said to Valeria at last.

“So what are you going to do?”

“Talk to Zargaza,” I said.

“Just talk?” she asked.

“Maybe. But I can’t know what she wants, unless I ask.”

“What she wants is obvious enough,” Valeria said.

“In some ways,” I said. “And not in others.”

Xyla moved behind me, and put her arms around my shoulders. “Do you know what I want?”

I smiled up at her. “What do you want, Xyla?”

She slid her hands down, and slipped them into the cleavage of my dress. “Take a guess. I bet Val wants it too, and I can share.”

Valeria grinned.

“I think we all want the same thing,” I said.

Xyla turned, and said, seemingly to no one, “Could you give us some privacy, please?”

There was the unmistakable sound of a squirrel scampering away.

The next morning I rode my bike to visit first the trolls, then the orcs, doing the circuit Kendala had been doing for me every day. I was probably still putting Zargaza off.

It may sound like I was reluctant. I was not. Zargaza was all kinds of hot, as far as I was concerned, and banging her would not be taking one for the team. But she made me nervous. Not quite like I was nervous around pretty goth girls in high school, because I thought, then, that they had all the power. But still, edgy.

The phrase “Don’t put your dick in crazy” popped into my head, but I didn’t think Zargaza was crazy, either.

I pedaled faster, to the point where biking through the narrow and uneven forest trails required my full attention. Overthinking it at this point wasn’t going to help.

The troll village had changed. It had been a gradual shift, but for some reason today I noticed it. The lumber I had been bringing them had been turned into buildings they could take pride in. There was a new Great Hall being built with a brick foundation. A number of trolls were sporting leather outfits made by the orcs, their recent enemy and now trading partner. That was all positive.

But rather than being greeted, or even ogled, they seemed to make themselves scarce when I appeared. Even Rargar took a look at me and backed away slowly.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Huh? Nothing’s up!” he said.

“No, seriously, what’s happening?”

“Uh, building stuff!”

“Rargar, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong!”

I was getting nowhere. “Could you take me to Gavabar, please? Everyone’s being weird.”

“Of course! At once!”

What the hell.

Gregor was in the chief’s new wooden home when we got there. It wasn’t a hut any more, and it wasn’t a palace. City Hall? But he lived there. Whatever. His house. And Gregor, too, acted oddly. Usually, he’d look at my face, then down at my chest for a few seconds, then back up, see if he’d been caught at it, and then go back to looking at my boobs. This time, he went straight from my face to my feet with hardly a linger.

He stood at the side of his chief, who was seated in the chair he loved. Gavabar had lost some weight, and put on some muscle. He looked good, actually. Still big enough to be the biggest troll, as tradition required, but harder. He, at least, looked me in the eye, and smiled, although there was a hesitancy even to that.

“Do I still call you Abby?” he asked.

“Sure, why not?”

He just shrugged. “It’s nice to see you,” he said, cautiously. “What may I do for you?”

“Well,” I said. “Let’s start with the question I just asked. Why wouldn’t you still call me Abby?”

Gregor went to his knees. “My Queen!” he said.

“What the fuck?” I asked.

“My daughter was here, and told me that the system now considers you to be Queen of Abbyland,” Gavabar said.

I looked at Gregor. I think I preferred him staring at my tits. I was tempted to kick him lightly to get him to stand up, but maybe kicking my subjects would send the wrong message. “Ah. That.”

“Is this part of Abbyland?” Gavabar asked.

“Do you want it to be?” I countered.

“Well, to be under your protection would have its advantages,” Gavabar said. “And we have certainly benefited from trade with you, and with the orcs who you conquered.”

“We can’t let them be part of Abbyland, and not us!” Gregor said.

Gavabar looked at him. I knew how he felt. He might agree, but at the same time, Gregor had pointed out the weakness in his negotiating position. But I wasn’t trying to negotiate, anyway. If they wanted in, they were in. If they didn’t, they didn’t. It was all about consent, like any decent relationship. Gavabar turned back to me. We looked at each other for a moment or two. I suppose he wanted me to say something, but I preferred to let him speak.

“I am not prepared to trade our people into slavery,” he said at last.

“Good!” I said.

He looked surprised and relieved. “Nor do I wish to have them sacrificed in infernal rituals. Although if you were willing to accept criminals, we might –”

I cut him off. “Why on earth would I want to sacrifice people in infernal rituals?”

Gavabar shrugged. “You do it in the sky? Or in the ocean?”

I stared at him. “Oh. On Earth. It’s just a figure of speech. An, er, intensifier. For fuck’s sake, why would I sacrifice anyone in infernal rituals?”

Gavabar’s eyes widened. I wanted to understand that, but I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Gregor was staring at my chest again, although he looked down when I caught him.

“Get up, Gregor,” I told him.

“Yes! At once!” He leapt to his feet.

“The sacrifices are sexual in nature?” Gavabar asked.

Oh. He took that literally, too. “No! And besides, there are no sacrifices!”

“None?”

“Nada. Zero. Zilch. Nil.”

“And you want me to still call you Abby. Even though you’re the Uber Archfiend, now?”

Ah. That was it. “Yes. I still want you to call me Abby.”

He smiled, slowly. “Gren told me you were still the same.”

I nodded. “It’s just a thing that happened to me, really.”

“Strange things happen to you, Abby.”

I had to agree with that.

“I didn’t know whether to be proud or horrified that the future, er, mother of my daughter’s child? Was also the ruler of all the demons. And a demon herself, apparently.”

“I’ve been certified as non-evil by paladins,” I said. “They should get a little mark to put on people. I’m safe around children, even.”

“What about nubile virgins?” Gregor asked.

“Eh,” I said. I was about to say I preferred experienced women, and that was true, but it hadn’t been that long since I’d fucked Lysandra, and she definitely qualified.

“What about men who have never been with a chick with a dick?” Gregor asked.

Ah, good. We’d passed the point of uncomfortable obeisance and returned to the normal horniness. “I’ll pass, but thank you for the offer.”

“So,” said Gavabar. “What does it mean to be part of Abbyland?”

“Free trade within the zone. Mutual protection.”

“Does that mean we’d have to come to the aid of the orcs?”

“And they you. If they are in.”

“Is Tartarus part of Abbyland?”

“I, um, don’t think so. I think that’s a separate thing entirely. Or there would be no need for the two titles.” Like the Georges being electors of Hannover and kings of England, it didn’t make Hannover part of England.

“And, um, tribute?”

I was about to say nothing, but if the gate ceased to work, I wouldn’t have lumber or premium booze to trade. On the other hand, I wouldn’t have Earth goods to buy with gold, either. I shrugged. “I want you to prosper, Gavabar. If I need a little work done I’d appreciate some cooperation. You’ll have to trust me to be reasonable.”

I wondered how that sounded. Hi, I’m the arch-demon. But just trust me.

“You’ve been reasonable so far,” he said. “But I didn’t know you were a demon, before.”

I shrugged. “And now you’re trading for clothes with the orcs, and your people are better off for it. And learning brick-laying from them. They were your enemies, green-skinned folks on one side and blue-skinned ones on the other, and now they are your friends.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said.

“Peaceful neighbors,” I amended.

“Yes. Are you trying to tell me that demons aren’t evil?”

“Hashtag not all demons,” I said, and then shook myself. “Yes, I’m trying to tell you that not all demons are evil. No one is perfectly good, and very few if any people are perfectly evil, either.”

“Are demons people?”

“Demons are people,” I said.

“I’m a demonist, also,” Gregor offered.

“Huh?”

“A person who believes in the radical notion that demons are people, too.”

I hadn’t been aware that was a thing. Or, alternately, that anyone had ever thought otherwise. “That’s nice, Gregor.”

“Does it change your mind about wanting –”

“No.”

I wondered if he said he was a demonist just because he thought it was a good way to get into demonesses’ pants. I bet it happened.

“Your wife Lesseth is very popular among a certain set,” Gavabar said.

Ah. That’s right. Lesseth went with Gren to one of the orgies. I imagined she was very popular.

I wondered if the demons would think of that as me being cuckolded, and someday a troll would end up being the Uber Uber Archfiend. As far as I was concerned, if I could have multiple partners, why couldn’t they? It didn’t turn me on, and it didn’t turn me off, and in fact, I’d hardly thought about it since. It was just as simple as believing that my partners were people just as much as I was.

“Well,” Gavabar said. “If you won’t demand trolls as sacrifices, and there is nothing else, we will be happy to be part of Abbyland.”

“Welcome aboard.”

“And if you want us to do some raiding for sacrifices, let us know. There are some goblins to the north.”

I shook my head, and resisted the urge to smile. “No, thanks. But I’d like to meet them, sometime.”