Siege of Night by Jeff Gunzel Page B

the tops of tropical trees. The subtle thumps of fresh fruit landing on soft, damp grass were audible only to Dragot’s sensitive ears.
    This was just what he needed after being handed a crippling defeat at the hands of the Gate Keeper: a soothing break, so obviously well deserved. He watched as the foot-long goldfish swam along slowly, not trying to get anyplace in particular but getting there anyway, then turning around once more just to go nowhere in particular yet again.
    Dragot dipped another piece of bread into the narrow, wooden chute running right past his flat, pig-like snout. He popped it into his tusked mouth quickly before the fresh juice dripped all over. Licking his clawed fingers, he began to contemplate just what had gone wrong with his perfect plan, not taking responsibility for any of the unseen complications, of course. His plan had been perfect! The fact that these black, winged creatures could not make good on the basic, simple instructions given to their feeble minds had nothing to do with any flaws in his plan. It had just been a case of simple- minded creatures unable to deliver.
    Addel’s betrayal in aiding the Gate Keeper could not possibly have been predicted. To think, after how well he had treated her! How dare she help the humans who had turned their back on her so many years ago? How dare she betray him after all he had done for her? A few deep breaths were all it took to calm him down once more. These were nothing but unforeseen setbacks that merely delayed the inevitable.
    And those worthless humans…to think he had kept them alive all this time just to have them fail at the most menial of tasks. Now this thought stirred something deep inside the demon. To use the puppeteers to control the weak-minded beings had been his fiendish plan. There really was nowhere else to pass blame for their failure. But just as fast as the fleeting thought had occurred to him, it was pushed from his mind just as easily.
    “Besides,” he said to no one as he looked up. “The incompetent flesh bags who remained behind have surely paid for the failures of their brethren.”
    Several thin humans hung high above him, crucified onto wooden crosses as fresh blood flowed down into the wooden chute laid out before him. A few were still alive and twitching with their eyes wide open, but all were too weak to even moan, yet alone scream.
    Dragot took his last piece of bread and mashed it against the chute greedily, trying to get every drop of human blood before shoving it down his throat. He licked his clawed fingers once more before turning to go back into the dark, crystal tower. Easily moving through the secret passage built into the side panel, he slid it shut behind him, leaving behind no trace of its existence.
    The demon glided across the shiny black floor, admiring his reflection as the distorted wavy image gazed back up at him. His long, green and red robe lined with white lace hung loosely as it dragged across the spotless floor. There was not a single speck of dust anywhere to pose a threat to his elaborate garment. He floated on in long strides with his head high and hands clasped behind his back in a confident stride fit for a king. Of course, that was how he viewed himself.
    He slowed up a bit while a handful of briggits scampered out of the way as he turned the corner. Of course, he couldn’t care less if he stepped on one; that was hardly the reason for his suddenly listless pace. He would eventually have to go to his private chambers once again to contact Krytoes.
    This was a task he never looked forward to under any circumstances, especially on the heels of a handful of minor failures, none of which were his fault, but he couldn’t be sure Krytoes would adhere to that obvious fact.
    Regardless of whether Krytoes thought this little setback was his fault or not, he needed the fiend’s help once more. It was clear that relying on these inferior beings to achieve anything was pointless. This was