How did demons deal with grief? How did they cope with the loss of a family member? I was ready to say a quick "sorry about your brother, dude," and move on. But Onslaw suddenly became distant and melancholy, like he was starting to coming to grips with Yelvin's death in a very emotional, very human way.
It was unexpected and more than a little uncomfortable. "You okay?" I asked the big, muscular dark gray denizen of the underworld as he stifled a few sobs.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, turning away. "It's just…I've had a brother for the last hundred forty-two years. It's gonna be so different without him."
I patted his bulky bicep reassuringly. "I'm sorry," I told him. "And I don't mean to be insensitive, here, but we have kind of an urgent issue to attend to."
"Right," he nodded. "Making Gavsot suffer."
"Yeah, sure," I agreed. "And that Leader guy, too. They're both clearly up to no good."
"Tell you what," Onslaw said grimly. "We'll go after them together. Then you can kill the Leader and I'll kill Gavsot."
"You can avenge your brother and I can rescue Tithenai," I replied with a grin. "Sounds like a win-win." Then I was struck with a sudden epiphany.
Onslaw watched in concern as my grin faded. "What's wrong?"
"At this very moment," I explained, "General Gavsot could be marching his troops from the Department of Enforcement through the Department of Assignment to my office to complete a military coup on the Leader's behalf."
Onslaw flashed me a ravenously bloodthirsty smile that stretched wide across his already broad features. "We better get started, then."