The cavern had almost emptied out already, but I managed to snag a lanky gray straggler. I teleported us both back to my office and immediately beheaded him. A captive wouldn’t be much good to me if he could instantaneously transport himself to safety.
“That was…gruesome,” Torvin said.
“It was necessary,” I replied tersely, dumping the head out of the hood.
“I know,” he said with a shudder. “But still…your bare hands….”
I glared down at the head resting in a thick pool of blood on the carpet. “What’s your name?” I demanded.
He regarded me with unmitigated fear. “Belvidon,” he said. “Sir.”
“Belvidon?” I echoed. “That sounds like a made-up dinosaur. What is it with these names?”
“It means ‘Bringer of Famine’ in the ancient demonic tongue,” he explained meekly. “Sir.”
I hadn’t expected him to answer my pointless question. “Whatever,” I dismissed. “I need you to tell me about that creepy little gathering I just witnessed.”
“No way,” he said. “If I tell you anything, he’ll kill me. Sir.”
“Who?” I pressed.
“Our Leader,” he said. “Sir.”
“Who is your leader?”
“I don’t know who he is,” Belvidon said. “Sir.”
“You don’t have to end every sentence with ‘sir,’” I told him irritably.
“I know that,” he replied. He started to make the S sound, but it petered out into a low whistle when I shot him a threatening glare.
“How can you not know who your leader is?” I asked. “You all were just talking to him.”
“Everybody wears masks. Each member only personally knows a handful of other members,” the gangly demon explained. “We keep anonymity as high as possible so that if someone gets caught, there’s a limit to how much information he can give.”
“So who did you know?” I asked.
“I was a new member,” he said. “I only knew the demon who recruited me.”
“I’m not hearing a name,” I prompted.
“It was Fikhos.”
I sighed. “Of course it was.”