Free Prospero in Hell by L. Jagi Lamplighter

brother, then he told the elves that no tithe was needed that Sevenyear.
    “Once tithed,” Mab continued, “Mephisto must have made some kind of compact with the Powers of Hell that allowed him to become a demon. Except, since Mephisto is a human and not a pixy or a sprite—or whatever they usually tithe—he had a soul. This would keep him from permanently changing his nature, which might explain why he can change back and forth between demon and human.”
    “Maybe… .” I frowned. “In fact that had been my first thought when I saw his demon form… that he had made some infernal bargain to regain part of his sanity. But that would have had to have happened after 1634. If so, what about the references to the demon Mephistopheles from 1589? And Mephisto’s ‘new trade’?”
    “Maybe the
Orbis Suleimani
backdated Mephistopheles for some reason. Faust’s original demon might have had another name. Maybe Mephisto did it himself, to leave some kind of clue. Maybe I was just off base on that new trade thing.”
    “What I don’t understand is: If Astreus betrayed Mephisto, why did my brother bother to come tell me Astreus could not make our rendezvous? How did he even find out Astreus was not coming? Why have a note that says: THIS IS MY BEST FRIEND ASTREUS. And what about this dire mission Astreus has undertaken for the queen? Is it related to the tithing of Mephisto?”
    “Could be. I would not put much past Queen Maeve. She’s a fine queen, but she’s tricky—and she is the queen of the Unseelie Court, the seedier side of the supernatural world. Could be Astreus tithed Mephisto secretly, and the queen found out and is blackmailing him to accomplish some purpose of her own.”
    “But, why tithe my brother and then go way out of his way to get me the
Book of the Sibyl
?”
    “The what?”
    “The
Book of the Sibyl
, the one I’ve been seeking for so long.”
    “The
Book of the Sibyl
?” Mab frowned. “How’s that figure in?”
    I held up the little black volume. “Astreus gave it to me.”
    “You accepted a gift from an elf?” Mab exploded, the very picture of outrage.
    “It was bestowed in the Mansion of Gifts,” I replied crisply. “Were it not wholesome, Father Christmas would not have allowed it.”
    Father Christmas had more than allowed it, though I did not pause to explain this to Mab. He had actually arranged it. As we were preparing to leave, he had come into the reindeer barn, the ermine trim of his crimsonrobes brushing aside the straw, and asked me whether I had liked his gift, claiming it had been for the purpose of bestowing upon me the gift I had requested over a century earlier that he had fished Lord Astreus Stormwind from the Void. I thanked him profusely, but he just smiled and assured me that only a man who took great pleasure from a gift happily received would remain in his line of work. Reaching into his voluminous crimson sleeve, he drew out the coronet of silver and horn that Astreus had worn during the Christmas feast and handed it to me, saying, “You keep this for now. You may find it useful anon.”
    “When I asked what it was for, Father Christmas had merely smiled mysteriously and replied, ‘When the time comes to use it, Child, you will know.’ ”
    Mab, placated by Father Christmas’s approval, took the black leather volume and examined it, sniffing carefully and flipping through its pages. I hid Astreus’s coat-of-arms, which I had slid from the book as I handed it to him, in my sleeve.
    “That’s pretty spectacular, Ma’am. I’m glad for you. Know you’ve been looking for it for centuries. As to why Astreus brought it for you? That I don’t know, Ma’am. Elves are capricious. Maybe he felt sorry for having deprived you of your brother. Maybe it was Mephisto’s last wish, or something.”
    Mab’s theory took all the charm out of the notion that Astreus had gone to so much trouble to bring me the book. The little book, which had been so dear to me, now