ay. "
"You have a temper, child. "
"Not temper. I simply dislike wasting time, yours or mine. "
The old woman paused. Her head moved, ever so slightly. Spyder stared deeply into the blackness where he knew her eyes to be. "Your companion, does he speak?"
"Only when he has something to say. "
"Tell me, are you a traveler?"
"If you are asking if I am I willing to go where a patron needs me, the answer is Yes. "
"What if the destination is beyond this Sphere? Beyond every Sphere you know?"
"I go where Im paid to go. "
"Will you go to Hell for me, Blind Shrike?"
"Im confused, Madame. Im an assassin. What use would I be to you in a place of the dead?"
"What indeed?" The little pump attached to Madame Cinders wheelchair chuffed into life. An inverted bottle of some thick purplish fluid bubbled on her IV stand. She sighed a little as the fluid drained into her. "As a traveler, what can you tell me of Hell?" Madame Cinders asked.
"Its very far. It is a city underground, or so surrounded by mountains that it appears to be underground. There are many entrances and exits, if one knows the way. Mostly, I know that you want to avoid the place, if -possible. "
"Is that all?"
"As I said, Madame, my concern has largely been with living, breathing adversaries. "
"You are not doing well, child. Not well at all. Do you wish to be fed to my little flowers?"
"The question is insulting," said Shrike.
The old woman was silent for a moment. Then asked, "If you were to go to Hell on my behalf and you met the great beast called Asmod
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