The creature opened its mouth wide, revealing rows of sharp fangs. The mouth opened from ear to ear, the jaw dislocating to drop halfway down its chest like a python about to devour a boar. The nephil—a creature born of man and demon—tossed back its head and shrieked. The sound shook the hall. It turned toward its mother. Angel still lay on the floor, her belly deflating, and her son crawled onto her chest and began to suck at the breast, drinking a foul milk of lava and liquid sulfur. Nursing her son, Angel raised her eyes and stared at Issari.

"Behold the heir of Eteer," Angel said. "Behold the future king. Behold—"

"As Queen of Eteer, I command you!" Issari shouted, amulet raised. "Return to the Abyss! Summon your demons to retreat after you. I have seized control of this throne, and—"

Angel laughed. She plucked the feeding creature off her breast and pointed toward the fallen throne of Eteer. Lips smoking, the child leaped, bounded over Issari, and landed upon the seat. He lashed his claws, tearing the throne apart, scattering shards of wood and gold. He looked up from the mess, nostrils steaming, green eyes blazing.

"I do believe that my son has just challenged your claim," said the Demon Queen. "I name him Ishnafel, Fallen One. Eteer will be his prize. Your reign has lasted only a few heartbeats, Issari, Queen of Filth." She barked a laugh. "You should have exiled me while you could."

Issari raised her amulet again, though its light dimmed. Shadows were emanating from Ishnafel, cloaking the room, overpowering the glow of Taal. "I will burn you, Angel. Obey me! I still command Eteer's army." She swept her arm behind her, gesturing at the soldiers who still lived. Tanin stood among them, bruised and bloody but still holding a spear and dagger. "She who rules the military rules the kingdom."

Angel grinned and licked her chops. "Oh, sweet innocent child . . . I do fear that a new army now sweeps across the city. Listen, child. You can hear them."

Issari listened and a chill washed her. She heard it. The buzzing rose from outside like a swarm of flies. Human screams rose with the sound. Soon shrieks joined the cacophony, high-pitched and demonic. Inside the throne room, Ishnafel hissed and flapped his wings, rising to hover over the floor.

"Yes, Issari," Angel said. "The nephilim. The army of the fallen ones. They rise and they are my son's to command."

Still covered in mucus, Ishnafel opened his mouth, stared at Issari, and spoke in a hiss. "I . . . will . . . reign."

Issari ran to the window, stared outside, and felt the blood drain from her face. Tanin ran to her side.

"By the stars," he whispered.