‘What about those screaming whip heads? Are they being initiated too?’

‘They’re the Consumed. They’re the ones who didn’t make it through initiation. There’s a legendary feast that goes on with the Pit lords. The Consumed are the ones who were sacrificed for the feast.’ He shakes his head. ‘We can grow back a lot of things, but not a whole body or even major parts.’

He rubs his empty eye sockets. ‘But when you’re in the Pit, there are infinite opportunities for more misery. The Consumed cry out by the thousands to be included in a head whip for the chance to claim a new body.’

I’ve never seen Beliel so chatty. This earlier version of him is going to take some getting used to.

‘If they get their teeth into you, they’ll burrow before you can blink. They’ll work their way up to your head where they gnaw until your head falls off. Then they plant themselves in your neck. Sometimes, they fight, and two or three of them plant themselves before it’s all done. That’s a sight that makes you wish your eyes had been gouged out.’

I look at him to see if he just told a joke, but there’s no change in his expression.

‘A Fallen body is a prize, but they’ll take anything with limbs. They’ll even take rat bodies with the hope that they can move up the food chain so long as they can find the next victim. So watch your feet.’

He slides down the wall, sitting against it. ‘Rumor has it that some of the most powerful Pit lords were once Consumed. Of course, by the time they reach Pit-lord status, they’re beyond insane.’

I like to think I can handle insanity, but this is taking it to a whole new level.

‘So always be on guard,’ he says. ‘You could lose more here than you could possibly imagine.’

Is Beliel really looking out for me? There must be an ulterior motive, but I can’t think of one right now. ‘Why are you telling me all this?’ Maybe he’s not Beliel but just someone who looks like him. He sure doesn’t sound like him.

‘You saved me out there,’ he says. ‘I pay what’s owed, good or bad. Besides, I have a soft spot for Daughters of Men. My wife used to be one.’ His voice trails off, and I can barely hear his last sentence.

‘You’re offering to protect me?’ The disbelief clearly comes through in my voice.

‘No one can protect you, little girl, certainly not a newly Fallen whose eyes haven’t grown back yet. Anyone who says they can protect you is lying. It’s just a question of friend or foe. That’s all.’

‘And you’re telling me you’re my friend?’

‘I’m not your enemy.’