Guillaume awoke with his head pounding. He tried to bring his hands up but he couldn't move them. They were tied

  at the wrist and his legs tied at the ankles. He opened his eyes to see a

  black-haired woman covered in dried blood staring at him with one eye while

  the other eye whirled with glowing symbols. As a sorcerer, he recognized

  some of the glyphs as they flew by. The binding moved too fast

  for him to follow..

  His

  cheek throbbed along with his head, and he remembered the sharp slap

  waking him. As his eyes regained focus, the woman standing in front of

  him slapped him again.

  "What's your name?" she asked.

  "I'm not going to answer any of your fucking questions," he replied.

  Guillaume was a skinny man, not strong by any means. He had trained at books and knowledge, not fighting or strength. His hair was brown and curly, something the old Master thought was beautiful. So when he pulled him out of the mud and offered him a new life, he knew he wasn't doing it out of the kindness of his heart. Yet it was still kind, more than anyone had shown him before.

  The woman pulled a scalpel out of her pocket and held it underneath his nose.

  "Either answer me true, or I'll start cutting," she said.

  Neither brave nor stupid, Guillaume realized at some point someone would come asking questions. So far, their secrets were safe. The city workers who made their way down into the sewers to investigate the blockages were sacrificed in support of their great work.

  "It doesn't matter what you do to me. If I wanted to tell you, I could not. For I have sworn upon my blood."

  She slapped him again and said, "Look down."

  He looked down and saw a complex working. Many of the symbols he recognized, but he had

  never seen a binding of this level. Its complexity mystified him.

  Without seeing all of it, he couldn't understand what it would do. The

  binding's patron, however, sat clear in front of him.

  This bound a contract to Paimon the King. A King's binding was the most powerful circle a sorcerer could invoke. It contracted with the highest level of demon.

  The woman wore a smug grin on her evil face. She looked more sinister smiling than she did threatening to cut him.

  "I offer up blood as price to free this one from his bonds and help him speak true," she said.

  She

  sliced the inside of his thigh deep. He cried out in pain and impotent

  rage. The blood gushed and fell on the floor. As it fell, the lines of

  the circle flared, glowing red. The blood became smoke and disappeared.

  He felt the compulsion fade. Now nothing protected his knowledge except his life. He was

  a believer in his group's grim purpose, but not a believer in his own

  bravery. He decided his only chance to survive would be to cooperate.

  His leg bleeding, he said, "My name is Guillaume. But if you do not tie my leg, I will not be alive long enough to tell you anything."

  He

  exaggerated the severity of the wound, and his attacker likely knew.

  She still tore a strip of his robe and tied it tight around his leg. He

  gave a soft grunt.

  "All right, Guillaume," she said. "It

  looks like you've decided to be a little bit reasonable now. You can't

  rely on your oath to protect you. Let's start with something simple.

  What the hell are you people doing down here?"

  "We are here to resurrect our master," he replied. "The great Gul Zirah."

  "Okay, tell me about the Elixir of Life."

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  Guillaume's eyes widened. Some of the other members had

  already been captured and interrogated by this woman. He regretted the

  binding only allowed them protection from speaking against them.

  Nothing prevented the members from writing it down because they needed to be

  able to record the results of their experiments.

  "So

  you know already what we do here. But you know nothing. The Elixir will

  restore to life our master in full health, with his full body, with his

  full soul."

  "What are you doing with the animals?" she asked.

  "The

  animals are for our protection. They are to make sure we are safe down

  here. They absorb the life of those they kill and send it to the elixir

  for our master under the control of our leader, Gul Mira."

  Disgust crossed his face at the mention of Mira. He hated the woman and couldn't hide it. Gul Zirah was a father figure who found him when he was poor, orphaned, and covered in mud. The Master offered him life, warmth, and protection.

  He spent

  his entire life in service of Gul Zirah, and he expected to die in

  service of Gul Zirah. Until the treacherous Mira poisoned his beloved

  leader. At least that's what Guillaume suspected. Several others of the

  cult agreed with him in secret. None could prove it, and most of the

  members decided to take Mira's side when conceived the plot to resurrect their master.

  The

  black haired woman considered his response. She paced a few steps back

  and forth. He noticed one of the undead animals panted by her. This

  was unusual behavior for the mindless beasts. But it was unimportant in the face of trying to delay his interrogator until help could arrive.

  The experiments from the animals were also a way to learn how to control undead beings. They found

  immense success. With servants like these, once their master lived

  again they would be able to create a controllable, renewable army. They

  could use the beasts to conquer nations. No one would look down on them

  again.

  She asked him how long they had been down there. He had no reason to lie.

  "A few months, maybe three," he said.

  "Tell me about the cult leader," she said. She turned to look at him.

  "The leader is Mira," he said. He couldn't keep a sneer from creeping onto his lip.

  "You're not too pleased about her. Tell me why."

  "I serve her. She is our leader. I am loyal."

  The woman stabbed the scalpel into his arm. He screamed. She bent, inches from his face, "I can tell when you lie to me. Tell me why you don't like her."

  Now whimpering, with the scalpel still embedded in his forearm, he said, "It

  is because I believe she killed our master for power. I believe she

  wants to use our research to resurrect him under her control."

  Guillaume heard the stories of the fearsome interrogators the American Empire used against their enemies. How they had

  a terrible binding which replaced their eye. It could tell truth from

  lies somehow. Such a powerful working could only come from a powerful

  binding and a heavy, heavy price.

  The

  training from his master taught him how to contract with one of the great

  Dukes of hell, but no higher, either from his master's omission or

  because of his master's lack of knowledge. He suspected the former.

  She backed away from him a bit and said, "Describe the binding and contract you used to make the animals obey you."

  He could not lie to this woman, but when it came to matters that wouldn't cost his life, he could omit details.

  "It means they obey us in the robes. It means they do what we say," he said.

  "Do you know how it works?" she said.

  "Yes," he replied. "But you will kill me before I tell you this."

  The woman nodded, her hand on her chin.

  "Where will I find your leader?" she said.

  "There in the final ritual room, further up in the middle tunnel, in the next junction cistern," he told her.

  "Are there any more protections? Any more undead herds of animals waiting further up?"

  Guillaume hoped she would not ask this question. He hoped to send her into the chamber with no knowledge, but now he had no choice.

  "Yes," he said. "There is a lion."

  His interrogator drew a sharp breath. She shook her head.

  "This day keeps getting fucking better," she said. "How many more of you fucking idiots are there?"

  "Eight more. Eight will be in the ritual room."

  "How do you know they’ll be there?”

  "Because Gul Mira is a diviner. She will be waiting.”

  "Shit," the woman said when she heard the word diviner.

  Diviners

  have contracts and bindings which enable them to see what happens

  around them. They know things before they happen. Mira would be watching

  him now.

  His captor regarded him, lost in thought. Her sudden look of resolve said she came to some decision.

  She said, "Rex, come over here."

  The dog trotted over to the circle where she stood, its stumpy tail wagging.

  "Sit beside this guy," she said.

  The dog took position next to him. She pulled the scalpel out of his arm. He cried out in pain.

  "Looks like you were right," she said. "I'll kill you before you tell me how the binding works."

  His eyes widened with fear as she said, "I offer blood and this soul to free this dog from its binding. Allow it to obey only me." The circle once again flared to life.

  He felt the scalpel plunge into his throat as fiery hands clutched at his soul.