I pulled out my Hell Phone and dialed Kivra’s old number. Malkino answered, as I expected. “Sir?” he crooned richly in my ear.
“So here’s the deal, Malkino,” I told him. “We just defeated the army of Lucifer’s Firstborn. You’re all clear to use every sector in your department.”
“That’s…good news,” he said, perhaps grudgingly.
“Eight of them are left,” I continued. “And they’ve surrendered to us on the condition that we cut off their arm blades. They shouldn’t be any threat to you. Do you think you can find some work for them to do in your department?”
He didn’t answer for a moment. “Sure,” he said finally. He sounded baffled. “There’s always more torturing to do.”
“Excellent,” I said. “There should be eight of them arriving near your office any minute now.” I glanced over my shoulder and watched the first amputee, bleeding profusely from his wrists, get teleported away by two demons. “Don’t feel bad giving them the bitch work,” I added.
“No problem,” he said. “Anything else?”
“Not really. How are you settling in over there?”
“Just fine, although I don’t have a lot of time for social calls,” he said tersely. “Goodbye.”
I hung up. “So I guess Malkino is still a little pissed at me,” I murmured.
“So what?” Jaelin exulted, grinning broadly. “You just won. You killed Halkkor and destroyed his army. You just saved Hell!”
“That doesn’t sound as great as you think it sounds,” I told her.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked me.
I stared out at the cavern. Blood, bones and bodies littered the barren landscape. Pit Guards were helping each other limp off the battlefield, occasionally assisted by demons teleporting intermittently between areas. The last of the amputee Firstborn were being prepared for transport to Malkino’s office. It was a grisly, devastating scene.
I turned back to Jaelin, and, forgoing the obvious joke about going to Disney World, I said, “I think I’m gonna take a nap.”