Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Oh, shit!
The demon’s beaklike nose wrinkled, and his upper lip curled as he continued, “Unless you’d rather something like Bob or Kevin.”
Double oh shit!
Zalramon was the undisputed head of the underworld. The king of kings over both demons and minions in this world.
Not only had the king come to fetch him personally, but Sky was making a mess in his domain. And let’s not forget that he knew about Sky’s weird little naming habit for the minions he employed. None of this felt good, but Sky wasn’t sure where he’d fucked up. Grammy was the one who’d taught him how to tap into the underworld through dead-fueled magic. She was the one who’d shown him the portals and how to manage the minions.
Okay, so maybe he used them way more than she ever had, but still…he followed all of her guidelines and rules.
When he sent ghosts on to the underworld, he used the proper spells.
When he raised the bones of the dead, he was always sure to put them back in the same place where he’d found them. A tidy necromancer was a trouble-free necromancer. At least, that was what Grammy claimed. What was the problem?
“Um…Your Majesty…” he began carefully, not wanting to put himself into more hot water. “Exactly what messes have I created? I was unaware—” Sky’s yelp cut off the rest of his statement as Zalramon grabbed his arm and jerked him into the portal.
Unrelenting darkness swallowed them for one heartbeat. In the next, they were standing in front of a massive stone structure with towering columns. Various types of minions ran up the stairs and hurried to different places. Each one gaped at the two of them—or more likely Zalramon—as they went by. Sky glanced over his shoulder. It looked as if the demon had zipped them to the middle of the massive city and this was his palace.
“You’ve upset everything with your sandwiches,” the demon complained.
Sky tripped on the lip of the stair and barely caught himself with both hands before his face smashed into the chilly stone. While he was stuck in an old T-shirt and a pair of blue-striped pajama pants, he was happy to note that the underworld didn’t feel too cold or even swelteringly hot. Probably a pleasant seventy-two degrees. Nice to know the dead were comfortable.
However, the stones were cold under his bare toes. Couldn’t Zalramon have spared a second to let him put on his slippers?
Wait…there was something wrong with his sandwiches?
“I’m sorry, what? My sandwiches? I’m very confused.” Sky shoved himself upright and dusted off his hands. “How have my sandwiches upset everything? Another necromancer informed me that using the underworld minions required payment for their services. Many of them like sandwiches.”
Zalramon threw up his hands and balled them into fists in front of him. “It’s not just the sandwiches. It’s also the night passes and those-those strange, soft, squishy…things.” As he described them, his fingers opened and closed in front of his face as if he were holding one of those items, while his features twisted up further.
“You mean the stuffies,” Sky answered and winced. He shouldn’t have helped, judging by the glare Zalramon tossed his way over his shoulder.
Apparently, Greg had been showing off his growing plush doll collection to the other minions. Not that he used Greg too often. The minion had a knack for tracking down certain rare herbs and fungi that grew in swamps. And Sky preferred to not go schlepping through swamps where things wanted to eat him.
It also didn’t hurt that there were a lot of witches who would pay top dollar for those herbs and fungi. Those sales helped to pay the bills and buy Christmas gifts when there wasn’t a lot of demand for his other services.
“I don’t understand. I—”
Zalramon whirled on him and leaned close so that his face was now mere inches from Sky’s. “You’ve thrown our entire hierarchy and caste system out of balance!” The demon straightened and heaved a sigh, his features morphing into what Sky could only call a pout. “Everything was running so smoothly, too. Thousands of years of neat organization all thrown out the window because of one necromancer.”
Okay, so…that was bad.
Sky pulled his arms against his chest and lowered his head to his shoulders as if trying to make himself smaller. “Umm…sorry?”
The demon glared. Yeah, sorry would not cut it.
Zalramon resumed climbing the stone stairs, though there seemed to be a little more stomp in his step now. “Unlike the human world, the underworld has a very clear hierarchy. The demons are at the top of the food chain, and we oversee the processing of the souls as they pass through to the next leg of their journey. Your interactions are limited to the minions.”
“I always got the impression the minions were like the worker drones of a beehive,” Sky chimed in.