“I… I don’t think I can.”

“You can and you will.” Envy seemed coiled to strike out at the orb. “Once it’s been touched, only the person who picked it up can set it back down. I can’t take it from you.”

With fear surging through her veins, Camilla gently set the orb back on the shelf, mindful to step away as slowly as she could in case it decided to take a tumble on its own. She exhaled only after it was several feet away from her.

Envy drew her behind him.

“Where should we destroy it?” Envy asked.

Camilla stared daggers at his back. “Breaking it seemed like a very unwise idea a moment ago.”

He glanced over his shoulder, his expression inscrutable. “You’re more… breakable.”

“Give me a second,” Lo said. “I’ll draw a containment ring. It should be safe there.”

One of the assistants brought the Prince of Sloth a piece of chalk, and while he drew a perfect circle and added runes she assumed were for protection, Camilla racked her brain for what it was. She couldn’t recall any stories.

“What is the Orb of Golath?” she asked again.

“Golath is known as the Fear Collector, an ancient being often thought to have possessed the first spark of evil,” Envy said, still standing guard over the ball. “No one knows how many orbs are in existence, but they open doors even we demon princes fear to pass through. That one is here indicates we need to seek Golath next. He gifts them when he has a message. Or when he has a fear to collect.”

The Fear Collector.

Of course, the next clue had to be some ancient evil. Why not the Wish Granter? The Dream Weaver?

And she’d been the one marked to find this clue.

Envy’s attention remained locked on the orb, his expression set in hard lines as he concentrated. He’d dispatched the Hexed Throne with barely any effort, so to see him taking such care was anything but comforting.

“Are you ready to break it?” Lo asked, looking up from the containment circle.

The Prince of Envy took a step toward the orb, then glanced over at Camilla.

“Stand as far from the circle as you can, Miss Antonius.”

She moved to the far corner of the room where the two assistant demons were crouched, books clutched to their chests. They’d likely been intrigued by the hunt for information, the excitement of finding a clue. Judging from the way they trembled, they hadn’t expected things to get so dangerous. An oversized desk sat between them and the circle, which didn’t seem like much protection at all.

Lo and Envy exchanged long looks, their conversation silent before Lo inclined his head, agreeing to whatever his brother had asked.

Without looking at Camilla again, Envy finally grabbed the orb.

He walked straight into the chalk circle, gave his brother one last hard look, then shattered it at his feet.

Camilla inhaled sharply.

A mammoth, nearly incorporeal creature reared up. It had the head of a goat and the body of a muscular man. Its horizontal irises landed on Camilla, taking her in.

It remained silent, cocking its head, its gaze never straying from where she stood.

“Golath.” Envy’s voice carved through the tension building in the room. “Where are you?”

“What are you, when are you, these are more interesting queries.”

The creature didn’t remove its dark gaze from Camilla. A forked tongue shot out between its overlarge teeth.

She remained very still, willing it to look elsewhere.

“Golath,” Envy warned.

“You know where I am, Prince Envy. Below. Far below. Beneath the place where the tombs burn and the ground withers. Come find me if you dare. Bring the silver-haired one. I do so enjoy gifts.”

The Fear Collector spun its nearly incorporeal body like a cyclone and disappeared into the circle, vanishing the shattered orb with it.

A heavy silence fell. Envy remained where he was, attention fixed to the floor, as if waiting for the creature to spring back and attack. But once it became clear it wasn’t returning, he stared directly at Camilla.

His expression was carefully blank. Lo didn’t look at her at all. Nor did the other two demons.

Unease clawed at her. She did not want to be that creature’s gift.

“Grab your cloak,” Envy said to her softly. “We’re traveling below the flaming tombs. The fire that burns there produces ice, not heat. Making survival… unpleasant.”

“No.”

The only one who didn’t seem surprised by her refusal was Envy.

He expelled a frustrated sigh.

“Unfortunately, this isn’t a negotiation, Miss Antonius. If the decision were up to me, you’d remain here. Better yet, I’d deposit you back in Waverly Green. Since we are both without choice in the matter, grab your cloak.”

Camilla’s attention slid to the others in the room. She did not want to debate in front of them.

“Sloth, a moment of privacy, please?” Envy said, surprising her.

Once the other demons had left, Envy pulled her against his chest.

“Let’s play a little game of truth, Miss Antonius.”

She nestled against him, nodding.

“I won’t permit anything to hurt you. True?”

“Yes. But—”

“There is no but, pet. Nothing will harm you.” He smoothed a hand down her spine. “Do you trust me?”

She laughed, pushing back from his embrace. “Not at all.”

He gave her a wolfish grin. Then seriousness entered his features. He pulled a small dagger from inside his suit. It was silver like her eyes, its sheath carved beautifully.

She hesitated for only a second before taking it. It wasn’t made of iron, but it wasn’t any metal she was familiar with either.

Envy tucked her hair behind her ears, then stepped back.

“You can trust me with your life, Camilla. That is something precious. Something I’d never play with. No matter what game is happening. Truth?”

Camilla held his gaze for a long moment, then went to fetch her cloak.

The tunnel below House Sloth was exactly what one should expect from an underground labyrinth deep within the bowels of the Underworld, home to creatures so terrible they do not seek the light.

Walls of frost-coated stone had been carved out to form the tunnel, the passage narrow enough that Camilla’s shoulder brushed against the prince’s as they walked silently.

Envy had had Sloth enchant her cloak so it regulated the temperature, ensuring that she wouldn’t freeze to death, but the air was still brutal on her face. He carried a flameless torch, which didn’t burn but provided enough light for them to see.

In many places the stone walls were gouged by claws, splattered with what had probably once been blood. There weren’t any bones or skeletons—Camilla got the impression that whatever dwelled this far into the realm didn’t leave such delicacies behind.

Occasionally they heard screams in the distance.

Once, when a yowl so terrible it made her shiver rent the air, Envy held a finger to his lips and grabbed her hand, pulling her down another winding passage, not slowing his grueling pace until the infernal wailing was a distant nightmare ringing in her ears.

He hadn’t let go of her after that.

The closer they got to the land below what Envy had called the flaming tombs, the colder it got, like the world itself was warning travelers away.

Camilla had thought it couldn’t get any worse, and it proved her wrong. If it hadn’t been for the magic cloak, she would have frozen.

Her eyes stung, tears freezing on her cheeks. Panic made her want to cry harder.

Will my eyes freeze shut?

Envy abruptly pulled her in front of him, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. Her skin heated immediately, warming from his magicked touch.

“Breathe, Miss Antonius. The tunnel is meant to induce fear. Golath feeds on it.”