The chopper touched down at midday, and Owen clamped his tie to his chest as the gusts from the rotors swept over the rooftop helipad. He hadn’t slept well. The hotel bed had sagged and the weight of what had happened at dinner seemed to press down on him all night.

He’d hoped a meal in a human establishment would ease Braith’s fears. No doubt the secret was out, but what could he tell him? I was so spellbound when we met that I gave you my life token, offered you a job, kidnapped your father, and took you to an immense chamber of demonic power. Will you marry me?

He’d lied from the start, and now the web was closing in on him. Maybe Gregory had been right? He should have showed off a bit of demonic glamour, swept Braith away on a magic carpet ride till he forgot all about the puny human world. Instead, he’d been timid, pretending to be human even when it was clear that he wasn’t. Like that pathetic example of the species he’d nearly choked in the bathroom – what was his name again? Christophe?    

The sight of his arms around Braith had drained all the reason from Owen’s body. When he’d watched that leech totter off to the men’s room in search of Braith his chair had shot back without any involvement from his brain. Throttling subordinates was more his grandfather’s style, but perhaps it was time to revive the tradition.

Pity he hadn’t ended that maggot.

He finally got to sit down at his desk. He motioned Bradley out with a wave of his hand. Pinching his eyebrows, he tried to block out the look of horror on Braith’s face in that bathroom.

The office door opened.

“Knock, damn you!” he roared, but his rebuke didn’t land.

Chloe sashayed across the room, a smirk on her lips. “What’s wrong, cousin. Bad trip?”

“How dare you take the chopper at such short notice.” he shot back on instinct. Attack was the best form of defence in the Varanor family.

“I had a very productive meeting, thanks,” she sat down and crossed her legs, “what took you to the outback this time?”

“Prospecting.”

“Indeed. Sounds like you’ve stumbled upon something interesting.”

Owen was tired. A night on a lumpy motel bed worrying about Braith was poor preparation for a verbal joust. “What is it you actually want, Chloe?”

“The truth,” she shot back, as though she’d been waiting for this very moment, “and I’m not the only one. Uncle might trust you, but what about the court? What’s hidden under Thunderbolt Springs isn’t just more opal, is it?”

A feeling of unease rippled through him. She was unnervingly close to the mark. If certain demons found out what the cavern could do, really do, then Thunderbolt Springs wouldn’t need to worry about attracting tourists anymore. It’d be a blasted great hole in the ground, ten miles wide.

“I understand the court’s concern. My next report—”

“Oh, no. We’re not waiting anymore. Come with me now, and explain yourself.”

“You can’t make me do that.”

“No, I can’t,” she sat back and examined her scarlet nails, “but I can have a chat with your little consort. He’s cottoned on, you know that? What will he do when he finds out the fine print in the contract he signed?”

Owen sighed. Why had his father insisted they close the dungeons? They were for traitors like this.

He strode to the door of the office en suite and flung it wide. Inside, the swirling portal hummed into life. He paused to adjust the cuffs of his suit.

Beside him, Chloe huffed. “Playing for time?”

“I don’t need it.”

Back when they were children, Chloe was always the one to go crying to the grown-ups when she’d lost the game. But when she thought she was winning… that was when she was at her meanest.

“Won’t you bring you lackeys along?”

“Someone needs to stay here and work.” He gave her a sideways look.

“Get going, Ojst-Rewelin.” She spat his demon name like it was a sour candy.

“As you wish.”

Tenebralis was a pleasant realm, but the portal discharged into the stone bowels of the palace where it was always cold. Owen suppressed a shiver as they passed through. He’d adjusted too well to the Upper Realm.

They reached the familiar anteroom, with its gothic braziers that cast a dim red glow. A couple of demons, no doubt notified by Chloe of their arrival, stepped forward and offered a soft, heavy robe.

Normally he would have donned it, but not today. He needed to remain sharp, and he wanted to leave the court with one impression. Only the Varanor family could succeed in the human world. Only the Prince of Tenebralis could obtain the opal needed to power the realm.

They entered the throne hall, where vast cathedral windows let in the violet sun. It was already half packed, demons of the court gathered like vultures whenever they smelt trouble. His gaze flicked around the assembled nobles. Some friends. Many foes. Chloe’s faction had been thorough.

He smiled. Shareholders, nothing more. He’d run Tenecore for three years now, and had seen enough corporate shenanigans to know what the market really, truly craved. Stability.

On the dais, his parents sat calmly. Not for nothing had his father stayed at the top of Tenebralian society. His mother nodded regally, a tiny smile in her eyes that only he could see.

“Welcome, my son. We are happy you have joined us.” Father’s voice was sonorous, as usual.

“My child. Step forward, let us see you.” Mother couldn’t keep the pride from her voice. Like a warm breeze, it lifted Owen forward and into the centre of the floor.

Murmurs started around him. The sharp black suit was indeed a bold choice. No demon entered the throne room in less than full ceremonial regalia. There was no rule, but it simply wasn’t done. He lifted his chin.

“Father, mother. I apologise for my lack of formality,” as if a three-piece suit could be considered under-dressing, “I was a little rushed.”

“What’s brought you here is such a hurry?” A reedy voice piped up from somewhere. Owen didn’t turn his head, he recognised the voice of his uncle, Furevik. Usually, he only raised it in complaint, but this time he sounded thinly smug.

“Your daughter Clotekilde can tell you about that, Uncle.”

Chloe had followed Owen down the stone corridor and through the anteroom. Now she was properly garbed in light blue robes. She stepped forward with a swish of her hem, ready for the floor. Owen hid a smile. They must think he was stupid.

“Your Highnesses. My lords and ladies. The Hereditary Prince has made a discovery that could change the course of Tenebralian history.”

“Ah, cousin,” Owen broke in modestly, “you exaggerate.”

“Not at all. A vast vault, filled with opal. Enough to power our realm for centuries to come!”

An excited buzz shivered around the crowd. There were even a couple of cheers, but they dwindled as the air grew thick with tension.

Owen said nothing. Father’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Yet the CEO seems curiously reluctant to extract it. By now, Tenecore should have mobilised our supply lines. But the company remains quiet.” She turned to Owen, eyes gleaming. The unspoken question hung in the air. Why?

The court went silent. Although he couldn’t sense it, Owen knew his father was holding his breath.

“There’s no great secret,” he spoke to the room, eyes sweeping across friend and foe alike, “the strata around Thunderbolt Springs is unstable, meaning that large scale mining might not be safe. I didn’t want to raise expectations amongst the court, before we could be certain of success.”

He smiled at the assembled demons, resisting the urge to swallow his heart back down into his chest. Confidence. Stability. Who among them had any idea about topside mining?  

The Prince nodded sagely, and Owen’s mother smiled along with him.

“And you have come to report your success now, my son?” She clapped her hands together in approval.

“The first stages of the project are complete, Princess.”

Chloe had frozen in place, the light from the windows casting a dark shadow beneath her chin. She suspected, but simply didn’t have the evidence. Owen had taken the gamble and won.

“Anything else to report, dear Cousin?” Her voice was brittle, but she wasn’t bowed.

So, she still had an ace to play. Owen braced himself for whatever it might be.  

“The Hereditary Prince has happy news for the court. He has selected his consort.”