When the sun fell, they set up camp amongst the sparse trees south of the road to the mountains. The whipping of reins and the rolling of wagon and carriage wheels could be heard from afar, quieter than the babbling brook they rested by. Stars twinkled overhead like tiny campfires, outshined only by the moon in all its fullness. It was a tranquil scene.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Impy snapped. "Ask the old lich about the magical ring that'll help fix your ugly mug."
"Are you sure you'll be able to manage it? You said the Sultan was watching him closely," Tommy asked.
Impy rubbed the back of his bald head. "That was a joke. A demon joke. You wouldn't get it."
A circle of fire appeared in the air, dragging with it the smells and sounds of the underworld. It was far smaller than the one Tommy had opened last night, but it was no less upsetting to stand near.
"I'll be back in a flash, big guy," Impy assured him.
The portal disappeared in a mess of sparks, leaving Tommy alone in the small clearing.
"Six hours until sunrise. What should I do?" he asked the quiet wind.
::::::------::::::
"Man, this place sucks," Impy murmured. He soared across the mountains of the underworld as quickly as his tiny wings would allow, making a beeline for the Sultan's castle. It was a shame he had to come back here, but a deal was a deal. The big guy wanted answers from the old lich, so he'd get them for him.
The black stones of the distant castle sat atop a sea of bubbling lava. Screams flew from its molten depths, cluttering the air like a thousand noisy birds, making a ruckus that pierced his long, sharp ears—one he'd never grown used to. This was a place of horror and misery, one he yearned to forever escape from someday.
He flew down the boundless ramparts for an hour before he reached the gate to the Charred Keep. It was hundreds of feet tall and nondescript—just a lengthy rectangle of gray metal that sat above a cyclopean stairway.
"Well, well, well," came a nasal voice. "If it isn't the no-named loser."
He knew that voice.
Impy spun around, a frown on his red face. "Dino," he growled.
There before him stood an imp with blue fur, hands pressed against his sides, a smug look on his chubby face. "Fancy seeing you here."
Impy swiped his hand through the air. "Out of the way, Dino—I've got some important business to handle!"
Dino let out a laugh. "Oh, do you now? Pray tell—what might that business be?" His big eyes widened. "No. Don't tell me you've finally found some loser to accept you as a familiar."
"So what if I—" Impy stopped to revise his sentence. "He's as tough as nails, my guy. Yours wouldn't stand a chance, you hear me?"
A devilish smirk crept onto Dino's dumb face. "Care to make a wager, then?"
"No time for bets, you creep. Like I said, I've got stuff to do."
Impy turned and flapped his wings.
"If you win, I'll give you all my magic," Dino offered.
What a thing to wager. A demon without magic was like a river without water—dry and useless.
"What's the bet, you scum?" Impy asked, curiosity piqued.
"It's simple, really," Dino said, staring at his long nails. "Our summoners fight to the death. If mine wins, I get your magic, and if yours wins, you get my magic." His gaze met Impy's own. "Sorry, was that too fast for you? I can say it again if you'd like."
"You're on," Impy yelled, stamping his little hoof onto the stone.
Dino extended his furry hand for a shake. "Then let's seal the deal. With this handshake, I, Dino the imp, pledge to relinquish my magic to you should my summoner die to yours in combat."
Impy shook his hand. "I, too, pledge to relinquish my magic to you should my summoner die to yours in combat."
Blue flames consumed their hands, marking an official agreement between demons.
"My summoner is in the city of Newhorn in—"
"The freelands of Alyria," Impy interrupted, furrowing his brow. "In less than two days, mine will be camped near an iron mine seventy miles due east of there."
Dino's smirk widened. "Don't worry, poor Impy—my summoner will be there before the week's end. No need for yours to move anywhere."
Impy gave a heartfelt laugh. "I'm tempted to tell you just who you're up against, but I'll let that be a surprise."
"Nice bluff. Whoever chose you as a familiar can't be more than a sniffling loser," Dino claimed. "My summoner will cut yours down in the blink of an eye."
Cut? He'll cut Tommy down? That means the guy uses a sword!
Impy fell to the ground in laughter, clutching his big belly and wiping tears from his eyes.
Dino scoffed and turned his back. "I'm off to tell my summoner about your challenge. I suggest you prepare yours as well." He flapped his wings and flew into the air.
"That guy has no clue what he's in for," Impy whispered, stifling his laughter and rising to his feet. "Time to get Tommy the location of that ring now." He soared into the air faster than a monkey without legs, scaling the many steps in mere minutes.
The great gate had a small crack at its bottom, though, for someone of Impy's size, it was a rather large crack. He slid through it, no problem.
The inside of the keep was something to behold. It was a colossal structure made entirely of charred stone, suspending thousands of fiery cages from its mighty roof, set in the shape of a chandelier, each stuffed with hundreds of damned souls. Finding the old lich was an easy task, though. The creature was in his own, special cage at the bottom of the Pit of Sinners—the giant hole in the center of the room.
Impy groaned. The pit was a different type of horrifying—the type that made your stomach churn just from being near it. Very few demons bothered to go down its depths. Still, he had a deal to honor. He flapped his wings and flew into the blackness.
Hours passed before he reached the bottom, where the temperature was low enough to solidify lava. Very few souls were trapped down here—the greatest of betrayers and slaughterers, forever condemned to freeze. It was cold, even for him with his demonic blood.
"Alright, now where is—"
Oh. There he was. Ten feet tall, towering above the rest of the frozen creatures like a mountain of ice. He was also the only one not screaming. Freaky.
"Hey, are you the old lich?"
The lich's skull remained motionless and mute.
Impy waved his hands in front of the skull's eyeholes. "Hello? Anyone in there?"
"Speak your desires, imp, and see them remain unfulfilled," the lich croaked.
It was strange. Even though he was covered up to his neck in ice, he seemed powerful beyond measure. Dangerous, even.
"Here's the deal—some cultists tried to resurrect you, but they ended up summoning someone from another world. That someone is stuck in your body now, but he isn't too happy about how he looks. He's after some ring that changes his appearance; history books say you had one. Where's it at?"
A moment of silence passed, then the lich spoke: "Tell me—what does this boy plan to do with my ring?"
"Well, he's trying to take over the world," Impy explained. "That ring will help his plans, I guess."
Another moment of silence passed.
"I will grant the boy the ring, but you must make a deal with me, imp," the lich spoke.
"What sort of deal are we talking about? I can't get you out of here, so don't even ask."
"I have no desire to leave this place yet," he rasped. "No. What I want is a thing easily accomplished, even by one as feeble as you."
::::::------::::::
"Alright, everyone—it's time to go," Tommy announced to his disciples. "We should reach the mine before nightfall if we keep a good pace."
"Yes, Lord Bones," they chorused, already packing their things.
A fiery circle to the underworld appeared by Tommy's side, and from it came Impy with a cheesy grin on his face. "I'm back, big guy, and I got what you wanted," he announced.
"Keep your voice down, you hotdog!" Tommy grabbed him by the horn and dragged him away from the others. "Where's it at?"
"It's buried near Journey's End in Edonia."
Tommy touched his chin. "That's quite the trip. I'll depart tomorrow, right after we finish getting the knights to work."
Impy cleared his throat. "Well, actually—you may need to stay for a few more days."
"Why?"
"I might have signed you up for a duel to the death."