For two days we rode through the plains and over the hills, seeing only the occasional building. It was a little more exciting than driving through Kansas, but not much.

But as we got farther, the sense of decay increased. The grass was brown, the occasional tree gnarly and missing leaves. Here and there, we saw signs that people used to live here, although it was hard to tell from the foundations what kind of people.

Lesseth rode on my bike some of the time, holding on to me, but she also spent a good deal of each day sleeping in the bag so she could watch during the night. Each evening we charged up the bikes from marine batteries I had in the bag of holding, and we pedaled as much as possible. We made good time, and even though Tartarus was farther than Avonia, we got there in just four days.

Unlike Avonia, we were not invited guests.

Taratarus is in a canyon, and within that canyon, on an island. The road down to it is treacherous, and it is shrouded in darkness for all but a few hours each day, and the entire area has a vaguely sulfurous smell. The architecture reminded me of gothic cathedrals – dark gray, crenellated, forboding.

With Lesseth’s help, we’d come up with a cover story to get us in the gate. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t have anything better. Two large demons, each with four arms, large horns, and thick tails, growled at us when we approached. “Who goes?” one asked.

“I’m Abby,” I said. I’d slicked down my thick curls so that my horns would be visible. “And this is Lesseth. We come with our two thralls, with magic for the Archfiend.” I indicated Gren and Valeria, who bowed their heads so as to look as thrall-like as possible. I jiggled the leash that went to collars around their necks.

“For the Archfiend!” One of the guards exclaimed. “What business do you have with the Archfiend?”

“Best not to speak of it, friend,” I said.

“Oh.”

I nodded.

“Oh!”

They let us through.

Lesseth’s husband had owned a house in Tartarus, and we went there. It was mine by right of conquest, Lesseth said. “Like me!”

I sighed. “You’re here because you like me.”

“Ssshhh,” she said. “The walls might have ears.”

A few minutes later, we passed a wall that not only had ears, but it had a nose and some horrified looking eyes. Lesseth gestured for us to be quiet as we passed.

Demons of all shapes and sizes were everywhere. The big, four armed ones dwarfed even Gren. We saw a number of slime demons, and more than a few sexy succubi, and people of all races being walked around on leashes. Some of the demons looked at Valeria and Gren with a look of hunger, and I was grateful when we finally got to the house Lesseth spoke of. It was, fortunately, still unoccupied. Maybe that meant demonic society hadn’t heard about the death of her ex. I had burned the body, after all.

I didn’t see a single tree. Lysandra was going to hate it here.

It was a relief to get the collars off Valeria and Gren when we were finally inside Lesseth’s home, but the hard work was still ahead of us. We needed an audience with the Archfiend, and I wasn’t sure how to get it. Maeve may have been willing to recognize me as Queen Abby, but I doubted the title would impress the demons. Tartarus alone must have had more than ten times the people in the troll and orc villages combined.

We needed an in. That evening, Lesseth and I went to one of the nicer bars, near the center of town. Demon society is highly stratified, and it was the kind of place Princes and Lords hung out. I dressed up in my best flouncy, gothy black dress. Lesseth wore Val’s cocktail dress. The exotic Earth fabrics and some elvish coin were enough to get us in, and we circulated for a while. After the experience in Avonia, I avoided taking anything more than small sips of the demonic drinks. They were too sour for my preference, anyway.

“That guy, there, is close to the Archfiend. He’s just a Lord, but he might be useful.” She pointed out a tall, thin demon with a V shaped face and black eyes.

We walked over to him and said hi.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “But we need to talk to you.”

“Get lost,” he said, taking a healthy swig from his purple, smoking drink.

Lesseth nodded to me. It was risky, but it was the only way.

Charm Person.

“We have a proposal that might help your standing,” I said.

“Oh? Why didn’t you say so before?” he asked. “Sit down, sit down.”

I grinned. There was always a chance Charm wouldn’t work, or worse, that he’d know it was happening. We sat down with him.

“So,” he said. “Out with it.”

“I’m Abby, and this is Lesseth.”

“Weird name. I’m Rakalnekesh.”

“Nice to meet you, Rakalnekesh. We can help the Archfiend with his problem.” I really hoped I was telling the truth.

“What? What problem?” The demon looked around. “The Archfiend doesn’t have a problem. Everything is perfectly fine.”

“Everything will be perfectly fine,” I said. “If you let us help. I have a cure for the Archfiend’s problem.”

“He doesn’t have a problem,” the demon said quickly. “But he wouldn’t be adverse to looking at some exotic beauty. Is that what you mean? Did you get a medusa, or something? I hear they can make anyone rock hard.”

“No,” I said. “I have a magic – well, it’s a pill, sort of like a potion in solid form.”

He shook his head. “Right. You’re a poisoner. I’ll have you arrested.”

I shook my head. “I can prove it. I’ll take one too.”

“You could have built up an immunity.”

I sighed. “All I ask is for an audience. It’s up to the Archfiend what he wants to do.”

Rakalnekesh thought about it, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was fine with the idea of me poisoning the Archfiend. After all, that would solve their problem, too. He shrugged. “He won’t see you,” he said. “Now if you had a big-breasted naga, or something…”

I didn’t think an orc and a human would qualify. I shook my head, slowly.

“We have something even more exotic,” Lesseth said.

“What?”

“A chick with a dick,” she said.

He stared at her. “By definition, that can’t be.”

“Look at Abby. Sexy, sexy woman, right?”

He nodded. “Well, she looks like a sexy woman, anyway. She could be a shapeshifter demon.”

“She’s not.”

“Prove it.”

“Abby, show him what kind of demon you are,” Lesseth told me. “Please.”

One moment I was sitting on Rakalnekesh’s left, the next I was twisting around in the chair to his right.

“Ah. A dimension shifter.”

“Yep.”

He reached out and grabbed my boobs. “Hey!” I said.

“They seem real. Is she trying to tell me you have a dick?”

I nodded.

“A little one? Sometimes people are born with –”

I shook my head. “No.”

Lesseth held out her hands to indicate how long.

“I’d need to see,” he said. “Flip up your skirt.”

“It’s not that long when it’s soft.”

Lesseth grinned. “I can fix that,” she said, sliding under the table. Well, more oozing, really. A moment later she was inside my skirt, sucking away.

Rakalnekesh chuckles. “Slime demons.”

“I know, right?” I felt a demon would probably take this all in stride. Me, personally, I found it a bit embarrassing, but I had a part to play. My shyness was no match for Lesseth’s skills, and in a few minutes she moved back, held up my skirt, and said, “See!”

“Wow,” he said. “It really is that big. And she’s got a pussy, too. Well, I’ll see what I can do. But I think he’ll be interested. You’ll probably get an audience in a few days. Say, a week.”

“A week?” I asked, wondering when Lysandra would get there.

“Yeah, there’s all sorts of preparation going on; we’re receiving a present from the elvish court. A virgin princess no less. Not that we haven’t tried virgins before, or princesses, or elves, but maybe all three will turn the trick and you won’t be needed.”

Ugh. I didn’t want to see him after Lysandra got there. I needed to see him before. “Or, maybe the elvish princess won’t be needed, and you’ll be able to claim the credit for finding me.”

“Maybe,” he said, sounding doubtful. “It’s a nice idea. Well, here’s to crime, eh?” He lifted the glass. I clinked my mostly full drink against his, and mine sloshed into his glass, making a hissing noise as the two drinks reacted with each other.

It didn’t seem to deter him from taking a healthy gulp.

“Where can I get in touch with you?” he asked.

I looked to Lesseth, and nodded. She described where we were staying.

“I’ll let you know,” he said. “Be ready on a moment’s notice. I’m hoping there will be an unexpected opening, or he’ll be bored, or something, and I can send for you.”

“We’ll be ready,” I said.

Two days later, I regretted that. We’d heard nothing, and yet we had no choice but to wait. We were trapped in a prison of our own making.

We were so bored, that I ended up teaching everyone how to play Bridge. I’ve heard it said that people shouldn’t play Bridge with their spouses as partners, because it never ends well. I was married to my entire foursome, but that was okay, because I didn’t care who won. I was chill.

Gren was not.

“One heart? What the hell was that? Bad bid!”

“You were the one who bid it up,” Lesseth said.

“Because your bid said you had at least five of them! Then we were in four, and you totally messed up the play. Faulty finesse!”

“I had four, and I had the Ace Queen,” Lesseth said.

“Yeah, and I had three little ones. That’s why I bid us up. And you should have been able to take the King, by leading the ten from the board, but noooooo.”

“I’m sorry, Gren.”

Gren turned to me for support. “Tell her again that she’s not supposed to open a major suit with only four cards in it.”

I sighed. “Gren is right,” I said relunctantly.”

“Of course I’m right. I pay attention.”

Valeria smiled benignly. “I think we should help them win, Abby. It seems very important to my sister-wife.”

Gren glared at her.

“Really, I think everyone is picking it up very quickly,” I said. Which was true. There was bound to be some confusion, at first.

“Not quickly enough,” Gren said.

“I have an idea,” Valeria said. “Whoever is dummy gets bound and gagged, so they can’t criticize their partner.”

“I have an idea, too,” Lesseth said. “Look, my body accidentally turned to acid, and its eating all the cards.”

I decided Amaranth had enough sources of conflict without Bridge. “Let’s all pretend this never happened,” I suggested.

“But it’s such a great game, Abby!” Gren said.

“Hmm,” was the best I managed.

“Well,” Lesseth said. “I can think of at least one other way to pass the time.” She winked at Valeria.

“Rope?” Valeria asked.

“Well, it could involve rope,” Lesseth replied.

“Orgy,” Gren said.

“Exactly,” said Lesseth.

“Sometimes I like the way you think,” Gren said.

If that was what it took to be one happy family again, I was willing to throw myself under that bus.

Heck, the only reason I suggested the cards was that I didn’t think we could make an orgy last as long as we might have to wait.