An Uncertain Present

Chapter 20: The Infernal Cup

****Sara's POV****

After being in Thule for so long, the fires of Edom didn't even make her flinch. The scoundrel demons wandering this world crawled away the second they saw her and her two companions approaching. A wise move.

SCEEAAAACH.

An Edomai demon let out a loud call overhead. A few more followed close behind it like some sort of demonic bird flock. If she was in a bloodlust mood, they would've been shot down swiftly. As it was, she continued to walk forward. The air here itched with a strange humidity. Her feet felt like they were stepping on hot coals. After the explosion in this hell dimension everything had been burned down to the core. There were no more scraggly trees, just burnt rocks and sizzling sand.

Up ahead, the castle loomed in the distance. It reminded her of a enlarged ant hill. There was no structural soundness to the building. Smoke rose from the rooftops while the dead sun seeped its light behind it. She could not see the Queen inside the small dark holes used for windows, but she knew Lilith had to be there.

But like he said, she might not want to help us.

Before Thule, there was a large part of her mind which would've fretted over the whole point of this mission. Going against her siblings was a heinous crime. There should be no bloodshed between them. Sara pushed those concerns away. The merciful side of her died out all those years ago.

And it would not return.

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

She gave Samuel the honors of knocking on the sandstone door. It was the replacement for the wooden door that likely used to be there. A few metal hinges still remained at the doorstep, along with some bent nails scattered over the floor. Not getting a response, Sara does the only proper thing. She lifts up her boot, plants it on the stand in door, and kicks it down. The sandstone crumples as it slammed into the floor, disappearing in a cloud of dust.

She crept down the hall with little fear. Sconces hung in every corridor, the flames in them a devilish black fire. There was no flame quite like demonic fire, the same running true for heavenly fire. Sara knew nothing well enough, but her more recent experience was with the darkened flames.

"Who dares disturb my domain?"

Sara had never met the Lilith of this world, but she did know what her voice sounded like. It was much more shrill then what she heard in the past. There was a weariness amidst the anger. But she was not fearful. This Queen —no matter what her power was— had been beaten down roughly by the Shadowhunters not a long time ago. Her power was weak, her mind muddled.

She would not be hard to convince.

The throne room was where they found Lilith. The Queen of Edom was sitting in her stiff chair, not even bothering to get up to greet them. Her dark eyes regarded Sara and her companions with a cold interest. She was dressed in all black, much like Sara herself was.

"You, who are you? You look familiar," Lilith said.

"I'm sure I do, but that hardly matters."

Sara signaled for her companions to remain at the door. Samuel stood ram-rod straight, his wings curled right against his back. The feathers there lost there coloration several decades ago. She remembered what led to his change. Death was a hard thing to deal with, even harder when it was the loss of a dear loved one. The most dearest loved one too. He had acted uncomfortable around her from the first moment she'd returned from Thule. It was understandable. Both of them changed so much in such a short period of time . . . for immortals, anyways.

"You still haven't answered my question." Lilith ran her polished red finger nails down the chiffon on the arm of the chair. There were no chips in the polish, an impressive feat for living in Hell.

"My name is Sara."

"And your last name?"

She thought of the last names tied to her like the ropes docking a ship to a deck. The water rocked the boat, making it tremble but the ropes still held tight. Even with her hatred, blood was something no one could erase. It was with great sadness she bid farewell to Stephen Herondale. Betrayed by those closest to him, there is no worse way to die. There would be no more Herondales. Her descendants and her children's descendants and their descendants had dried up into nothingness. But there were still people out their that were her family. Most of them had betrayed her, but not all.

Though even then, the last name tied to them made her frown.

"My last name is unimportant. You don't need to know it to make a deal. And considering your . . . situation, you don't have room to be picky."

Lilith stood up from her chair. Sweeping dark hair fell down to her waist —grown out from a sheer loneliness. Demons were hardly considered company, not when they were so mindless. Her face was drawn and pale, a dullness to her eyes which came from a terrible defeat.

"Hmm, I'll be the judge of that. Tell me your deal."

And so Sara did. She kept the silky persuasion in her voice throughout their little discussion. Any hand gestures remained as graceful as birds in flight, hands flapping in the abysmal wind. The torchlight and chandelier cast long shadows in the room. They flickered with the movement of fiery flames. Sara was positive they added to the allure of her words.

"So, do we have a deal?" She stuck out her hand, an offering to shake if the Queen so choose.

Lilith —who had been frowning throughout this entire ordeal— gave her a wicked grin. They shook hands in the dim light, the two fallen stood witness at the door. Her companions kept their motionless posture, not daring to break to cruel atmosphere.

"Yes. We have a deal. My blood is yours."

Sara smiled her own dark smile.

And now I only have one more alliance to forge. But, I'll need something else first. Something to offer. Something with blood of the fey.