said Rolukhan. “To manage the Inferno, more or less. The Grand Master expects much of our work here, and that commands my full attention. Such trivialities as the account books or the grain inventory are not worth my time. Erghulan said you had a head for letters and numbers, so you shall take over the day-to-day governance of the Inferno while I continue with more important duties. You shall perform this task admirably and well.” He smiled behind his gray beard. “If you do not, I’ll hand you over to the Immortals for their sport.”
Caina drew herself up. “I am an emir of Istarinmul. You cannot talk to me in such a manner!”
“I just did, and I shall do much worse if I choose,” said Rolukhan. His cold smile widened. “I urge you to be reasonable. Work diligently for me, and you have nothing to fear, and once your term of service is up you can return to Istarinmul with the Grand Wazir’s favor and your political position strengthened. Disappoint me and things will not go so well with you.” His black eyes moved over Nasser and Morgant. Kylon forced himself to remain motionless and expressionless as Rolukhan looked at him. He feared the Master Alchemist would recognize him, but neither Rolukhan’s expression nor his sense changed. A strange flicker of exhilaration went through Kylon. Was this how Caina felt when she walked unnoticed among her enemies in disguise?
Then Rolukhan’s eyes fixed on Nerina Strake.
“A woman?” he said. “You brought a woman to the Inferno?” He let out an ugly laugh. “Tell me, do you hate her so much? This is not a place for women.” He smiled. “Save for the wretches who sate the Immortals’ appetites.”
“She is my…companion,” said Caina. “I did not wish to be without her company, so I brought her along.”
Nerina shivered and looked away, refusing to meet Rolukhan’s gaze.
“A wraithblood addict, too,” said Rolukhan. “All the better.” His eyes turned back to Caina. “Fail me, and I’ll give her to the Immortals. You can watch what they do to her before I hand you over to them.”
The nagataaru within him seemed to hiss in pleasure at the thought, like a snake stirring in its den.
“You have a unique way of motivating your subordinates, my lord Rolukhan,” said Caina.
“Ah,” said Rolukhan. “So you do have a bit of backbone. You see, the Grand Master and I understand. There is only one thing that makes men good. The only thing that makes them excel.”
“What’s that?” said Caina.
“Fear,” said Rolukhan. “Come. Bring your attendants. I shall show you the Inferno and your new duties.”
He turned, and the Immortals fell in around them.
###
Caina walked alongside Rolukhan as they crossed the bridge, her mind racing.
She might have done Cimak a favor by kidnapping him before he could reach the Inferno. Rolukhan was a powerful man with no patience for fools, and Cimak would have irritated him. Given that the nagataaru fed upon pain and death, Rolukhan might well have killed Cimak and saved himself the bother.
Now Caina just had to keep Rolukhan from killing them before they escaped from the Inferno with Annarah.
The opened gates yawned before them, and beyond Caina saw a high, vaulted tunnel, its walls adorned with Maatish reliefs and hieroglyphics. Far in the distance she saw a sullen crimson light, and she felt the prickle of powerful sorcery against her skin. It was the aura of a Hellfire engine, the sorcerous apparatus that manufactured the deadly elixir.
There was another aura, too, one that seemed to come from deep within the mountain. It was ancient and cold, and made her skin crawl at its touch. It was the aura of Maatish necromancy, powerful and deadly. Maglarion had used it, Rhames had used it, and so had the Moroaica.
“What a peculiar odor,” she said aloud.
“The smell of Hellfire, my lord emir,” said Rolukhan. “Among my other tasks, I supervise the production of Hellfire. Should any of the disloyal southern emirs attempt to seize the Inferno for themselves, they shall regret their folly. Briefly.”
They walked into the tunnel, the smell of Hellfire growing sharper, the harsh red glow of the Hellfire engine shining brighter in the gloom. The sorcerous auras around Caina grew stronger and sharper. A faint vibration shivered through the floor beneath her boots, likely from the Hellfire engine itself.
“Behold,” said Rolukhan as the tunnel ended and they stepped through another archway. “The Hall of Flames.”
It was a huge domed chamber, carved from the living rock of