Astaroth stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. “No.”
“Astaroth is afraid of change,” Moloch told the crowd. “He doesn’t want to acknowledge that our species has become weak over the centuries.”
“How are we weak?” Astaroth asked. “I’d argue our weakness is in refusing to embrace diversity. Hybrids have much to offer our community.”
Pride swelled in Calladia’s breast. How far he’d come—from despising his human half to embracing it, from playing politics to leading a revolution.
Moloch scoffed. “Half a demon is no demon at all. They lack our intelligence, strength, and sense of honor.”
“Boo,” Calladia called out, and echoing hisses came from behind her. Someone fired an arrow, which unfortunately missed Moloch.
“See? What coward hides behind a bow?” Moloch gestured to the arrow. “Who attacks an enemy without a fair fight?”
“You do,” Astaroth said. “After Moloch vindictively had a witch turn me mortal, I was grievously wounded. He followed me to Earth and tried to kill me outside the view of the high council, which everyone should know is against the council’s sacred precepts.”
Sandranella gasped loudly and turned to Moloch. “Is this true?” she asked with a convincing display of concern.
“Don’t play games, Sandranella,” Moloch snapped. “You support Astaroth’s unhinged schemes.”
“I support keeping all inhabitants of our plane safe,” she replied. “And the reason you know I agree with Astaroth is that I saw you, Tirana, and Baphomet try to murder him and his witch companion just yesterday.”
The other council members shifted, looking uneasy. “Baphomet, is that so?” one asked. “Assassinations can’t proceed without the council’s full support.”
“Sandranella has succumbed to the same weakness of thought Astaroth has,” Baphomet said. “She seeks to undermine our power.”
“How is protecting hybrids weak?” The question came from overhead, where Themmie sat cross-legged in midair, smartphone held in front of her. Livestreaming on a demon social media site, presumably. Woe to anyone who underestimated the power of a sunshiny influencer with a cause to champion.
“This is the future progressives want,” Moloch said, pointing up at Themmie. “Our sacred realm invaded by interlopers. The strength of our bloodlines polluted by lesser beings.”
Calladia gritted her teeth to resist the urge to throw something at Moloch. If Themmie was streaming, it was best to let the demon dig his own grave.
“Do you know why Astaroth supports so-called ‘hybrid rights’？？” Moloch sneered. “Because he himself is half human.”
Astaroth shrugged, looking unbothered. “A bit late on that revelation, Moloch. I already announced it.”
Moloch’s face twisted with hate. “Astaroth is an abomination and a criminal who lied to the high council. We had to remove him, lest he corrupt the rule of law further.”
“I’m not ashamed of being a hybrid,” Astaroth said. He met Calladia’s eyes. “I’ve learned my human half is a strength.”
Calladia would have clapped and started cheering if she hadn’t been holding the yarn—and the knots shielding him—in place. She smiled up at him, hoping he could see the hope and pride shining from her eyes. Fuck yeah, she mouthed up at him.
Tirana guffawed, puncturing the moment. “Listen to this fool.” She uncoiled her whip and waved a hand, and a tiny fireball danced from her fingers to the leather, setting the length ablaze.
Baphomet puffed up his broad chest. “For defying banishment and lying about your bloodline, I, Baphomet of the Nine, sentence Astaroth, formerly of the Nine, to death.”
Calladia’s hope abruptly warped into fury and terror. Her horrified gasp was echoed by others. “No!” she shouted, turning a vicious glare on Baphomet. She would gut him before she let him set a finger on Astaroth.
“You can’t just decide that,” Sandranella said. “It’s up to the whole council.”
“I am the council,” Baphomet replied. “My word will be law.”
Moloch’s grin was diabolical. “Do let me carry out the sentence.”
“What authority do you have anymore, Baphomet?” Astaroth asked. “You lost it when you tried to assassinate me before I could reveal the extent of Moloch’s own crimes.”
Calladia’s heart skipped a beat. Had he remembered something at last? Please, she silently begged. If ever there was a moment for him to rediscover his leverage over Moloch, it was now. She didn’t fear him becoming the worst version of himself anymore—what mattered was keeping him alive. Keeping him safe.