The Scumbags Guide to Enslaving Demon's

Less than a day to dismantle a sovereign’s machine.

Austin Veyron watched the prisoner pens below him burn in the afternoon ash from behind a ridge of slag. The Crownforge maintained its slow pace. Each of its pulses sent pulses of red light spiraling through tunnels beneath the slag. The wrapped splinter at his belt grew heavier with every beat as the forge neared furnace.

Rin lay beside him, cradling the spyglass. ”Two patrols on the east bridge. Four at the water gate. Roof sentries change every twelve minutes.”

Eshra pointed to a cluster of pipes behind the forge platform. ”Those are the fuel valves. If I open the wrong one, the furnace will crack. If I open the right two, it will lose heat without collapsing.”

”Can you reach them?”

”With Maelis.”

The ember demon nodded. ”I can shield her from the heat. Not from people.”

Kesra traced a path along the pen walls. ”The outer bars use forge seals. Break them wrong and they lock tighter.”

Taryn’s spear lay across her knees, but she had fallen quiet since she got the lay of the firing queue. ”I built those seals,” she said. ”Not these exact ones, but the pattern. There is a release spine under each guard post.”

”You know the way in,” Austin Veyron said.

”I know how they expect us to fail.”

Sable studied the black furnace. ”Vordessa expects more than failure. She will know we are here by now. The Crownforge felt the splinter.”

As if in response, the forge bell rang.

A woman’s voice filled the ash basin.

”Former Herald. Broken scout. Devourer. You have traveled far to watch me work.”

The prisoners below shuddered. The guards did not. They remained in place, their iron masks raised toward the ridge.

Vordessa’s voice was smooth as polished metal. It seemed to come from the furnace itself.

”You may come down. I will show you the difference between a crown that lies and a crown that admits its purpose.”

Austin Veyron did not move.

”She is buying time,” Taryn said.

”Then we spend it better.”

He opened the relay token and wrote the operation roles in the white channel. There was no link to Grand Meridian this deep in the ash, but the token could still store the team’s own witnessed decisions.

Rin and Calder would cut the east bridge patrols and scramble their response line. Veyra, Kesra, and Taryn would take the water gate and release the pen spines. Eshra, Maelis, and Sarielle would reach the fuel valves. Sable would track Vordessa’s command patterns. Doria would wait at the breach with water, bandages, and the route out.

Austin Veyron would go where the Forge tried to turn the rescue into an order.

”You do not have to approve this,” he told them. ”You know the risks. You can stay behind.”

Veyra gave him a look. ”Stop saying that like we are waiting for permission.”

A grim smile pulled at his mouth. ”Fair.”

They moved.

Rin’s first arrow pierced an east bridge sentry through the throat seam. Calder caught the body before it hit the rail. The second sentry turned, but the contestant scar on Calder’s wrist flashed gray against the mask’s red line. The guard froze as its own command feed looped into silence.

At the water gate, Veyra forced her blade under a guard’s arm plate. Kesra shattered the second guard’s knee with the butt of her spear. Taryn ran past them to the release spine, fingers finding a hidden notch beneath the forge seal.

She paused.

The old design was familiar. Too familiar.

”Aren’t you going to open it?” Kesra asked.

Taryn’s hands trembled. ”If I cut the wrong line, the seals will write the prisoners into the furnace.”

Sable’s voice came through the relay. ”The left notch. Vordessa always hides the killing line on the right because she wants people to think fear made them choose it.”

Taryn inhaled and cut left.

The first pen bars unlocked.

Eshra reached the fuel platform as the forge bell rang again. Heat warped the air around her. Maelis covered both hands in ember-light, and Sarielle formed a silver shield against the furnace spray.

”Second pipe from the bottom,” Eshra called. ”No, the other second!”

Maelis laughed despite the danger. ”You gave me two seconds.”

”Then use the one that keeps us alive.”

They opened the valve together.

The Crownforge shuddered.

Below the ridge, the pens erupted into motion. Prisoners backed away from the bars at first, suspicious of freedom that had arrived in the middle of a forge shift. Then a tall woman with black antlers stepped to the front of the nearest enclosure.

Her wrists were bound with red bands, but her posture was straight.

”Who opened this?” she demanded.

”People who want you out,” Veyra said.

The woman looked at the gate, the guards, the burning furnace, and the narrow corridor leading toward Doria’s position.

”Then stop standing there,” she told the other prisoners. ”Move.”

Her voice had authority without a crown. Humans and demons alike followed her toward the breach.

Austin Veyron reached the central command gantry just as the forge began speaking names.

Not aloud.

Inside his mind.

Mara. Lia. Elena. Marcus. Every person he had fought beside. Every person he feared losing. The names crashed through him in a red torrent, each one attached to an image of a collar, a crown, or a flame.

TAKE THEM. KEEP THEM. MAKE THEM SAFE.

DEVOUR surged so hard that his vision constricted.

If he consumed the central command, he might be able to rip the forge’s name network apart. He might also pull every name in the pens into himself. He could save them by owning the information. The thought felt clean, efficient, monstrous.

Sable gripped his shoulder.

”Do not become the answer it wants,” she said.

Austin Veyron looked at the team through the red haze. He saw Veyra fighting at the gate. He saw Taryn guiding the freed prisoners through a safe path she had helped create. He saw Eshra turning a valve with her own hands.

They were acting.

He called the witnessed roles through the token.

The white line lit one by one: guide, defender, healer, witness, firekeeper, scout. Each was a choice made in the present. Each cut through a cluster of names in the forge network.

The furnace screamed.

Austin Veyron forced DEVOUR into the exposed command line and ate only its coercion. The red torrent recoiled. He swallowed the words that tried to turn care into possession, then forced the rest away.

The central gantry cracked.

For an instant, the ash cleared over the furnace.

A woman stood on the forge platform below.

Vordessa wore a long coat of hammered black steel. Her horns swept back from a face too calm for the chaos around her. A narrow crown of glowing metal circled her brow, but it was not attached to her skin. It floated a finger’s width above it, rotating slowly.

In one hand, she held the red band of a frightened border boy from the firing queue.

In the other, she held a lever above the furnace’s emergency channel.

”You broke the outer work,” the Ash Matron said. ”Well done.”

The furnace behind her began to shake harder.

”Release him,” Austin Veyron said.

Vordessa tilted her head. ”Come speak with me in the inner sanctum. Bring the splinter. Refuse, and I open the channel. The furnace will consume this complex before your rescue line reaches the ridge.”

The boy stared at Austin Veyron with wide, terrified eyes.

Sable went still. ”She is not bluffing.”

The freed prisoners were running. The fuel valves were open. The Crownforge was no longer stable.

Vordessa smiled as the next bell rang.

”Choose, Devourer,” she said. ”Save the many or meet the woman who can teach you how to rule them.”