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touched, we disappeared into the many splendored lights and colors that told me I was about to be very, very sick and have no clue where the fuck I was going to end up.

Chapter Two
    Tabbris
     
    I smelled brimstone and tasted blood. Mine, theirs—mostly theirs. Looking around, I estimated two dozen bodies this time. Unfortunately, I didn’t recognize any of them. The first group’s reinforcements hadn’t arrived in time. I discarded the broken Hell-forged sword in my off-hand and picked up a replacement, testing its weight, discarding it, then finding another whose balance I liked better. It would work until I found something more suited for defense—for all sorts of reasons, the more military rank and file of the forces of Hell never had any problem getting more things to shed blood with, but their superiors rarely cared as much about their survivability.
    Replacing the weapon was all the time I had. The baying of the hellhound packs was a constant now that they’d had time to organize the hunt. Sneaking past some of the sentries had worked for a while, but once they had the hounds out and leashed—as controlled as the packs ever got—the only option was often violence. I was better at violence anyway, but it left a trail. I also had new wounds that needed tending. None were severe, thankfully, but enough small injuries would add up, and it just made tracking me easier.
    I still couldn’t fly, thanks to Lucifer’s binding, but gliding for some distance I could do. As often as I found open spaces, I relied on that to try to leave fewer bloody footprints and less of a scent trail. Imperfect, but it would have to do. The echoing of the noise through the caverns made it impossible to accurately determine how far behind me other groups of Fallen, Demons, and hounds were, so I had to perpetually assume they were on my heels.
    “I’m not giving up, Tab.”
    The prayer came through clear as day. There was more, but the rest was less clear. Hell had a way of taunting me, along with everyone else, dangling hope, and trying to pull it away. It was Addy’s voice, and the first prayer in what felt like weeks. In all likelihood, for her, it had been, what? Days, perhaps. Hours, maybe. It was hard to tell. Hell’s time was diluted, so those days would come across as weeks here. I’d long since lost all track of days and nights, so I just knew it had been a long, slow fight for progress, and every chance to rest I’d had, hidden away, I’d needed.
    And now that they’d organized, I’d have less of those. The packs and hunters were out in force, from who-knew-how-many different factions, even if all nominally under Lucifer’s influence. Thankfully, they weren’t necessarily coordinating with each other. It was one of the few advantages I had: Lucifer, Samyaza, and nearly everyone else among Hell’s hierarchy would be out for their own agendas, and some of those might even be at cross-purposes. Being the one to bring me in would be valuable to multiple someones, so it was to plenty of hunters’ benefits to be that one, and, just as often, by the nature of the inhabitants of these places, to make sure that others weren’t that one.
    The prayer echoed in my mind again. She was still out there, still thinking of me, and wasn’t giving up that a way out would be found. Even if it was only days for her, it was hope—which was exactly what I needed to sustain me.
    I finally managed to reach another high, open chamber with multiple passages out of it, including some much higher up. I climbed, digging my fingers into the red and black rock, feeling the scrape of the obsidian black stone against my skin. Were I any of the countless mortals kept here, my hands would have been cut to ribbons for the effort. I pulled myself between two stalagmites, and rolled out of sight from the cavern below. Voices rose above the baying as a hunting group emerged into the cavern just seconds behind me. With the mix of sounds, I couldn’t