At the speed of vroom, Ari leads Cam to a city that looks a bit like what would happen if you let several million people with inherently contradictory design aesthetics and the ability to conjure arbitrary matter build a city together. It's... unbelievably tacky. Near the center there appears to have been something of a competition to see who could build the tallest unnecessary spire, which concluded when the top floors stopped being affected by gravity. Nearer the outskirts it's humbler, just a mess of elaborate mansions made entirely out of gold or rubies or human bone.

"Wow," mutters Cam. He may live in a city for a while to get used to Hell but then he's fucking off to someplace less tacky to be introverted and have a sense of damn (...heh) proportion.

There are not drivable streets in Hell-cities. This may present a problem. In fact, by the looks of things it seems that there may not be streets at all, so much as occasional spaces between the mansions; there are clouds of demons flapping about, who land on the rooftops and descend when they land anywhere.

Cam parks when he cannot drive further and gets out of the car. He feels kind of out of place without wings; he keeps an eye on demons in flight to get an idea of how various sets handle.

Ari touches down near Cam. "Do you want to make your own wings yet or should I just fly you up? I can totally carry you, the jetpack has pretty high capacity."

"I haven't decided what I want my wings to be like yet. If you carry me am I going to catch fire?"

"Nope! You're as invulnerable as I am, and anyway you'll be pretty much shielded by my body so it won't even be that uncomfortable. It's a short trip to my place, I got into the real estate scene early but at the time I was a bit outside town so it amounts to me only being a little while into the city."

"I understand that demons, of which I am now one, are indestructible, but I still wouldn't enjoy my jeans being on fire, even slightly. But sure, if you're between me and the flames let's do it."

Ari hefts Cam neatly in a bridal carry and lifts off. Being this near to burning jet fuel is certainly not comfortable, but true to Ari's word Cam does not catch fire. From this vantage point it's pretty apparent that there's no insulation around Ari's legs or anything. He doesn't seem to mind, though.

Cam experiments with alleviating the various discomforts of burning jet fuel by making cold exhaust-free air near himself. It works okay.

"Ooh, clever," approves Ari. "You're taking to the whole demon thing quite well."

"I mean, I was a summoner, I've given thought to clever applications of the powers."

"Sensible. I was only briefly a summoner and not in a coma, so I didn't get the opportunity. I adjusted all right, though."

"What happened to you? When was this?"

"Some time around 1426, I was dropped off on the doorstep of Halifax Abbey and raised by the monks. In the store cupboard there were some odd books; I took a look at them and they were about the summoning of demons and angels and fairies, which was all very heretical but also very intriguing. I decided to summon an angel in the attic, and when she appeared she was very sweet and kind. After a few hours of her being sweet and kind she convinced me to unbind her, at which point she vanished several key portions of my brain and cackled wickedly all the way to the bank. I read in a history book somewhere that a woman matching her description married some duke or other who later died under highly mysterious circumstances. I imagine she kept me vegetative in her attic under the care of some competent nurses. And then I died and she fucked off back to Heaven, where I believe she has pulled the same nasty trick a few dozen times."

"Huh. I found books in an abandoned mansion but that didn't happen to me, I just got killed by somebody with economic reasons to object to me."

"Kudos! Getting shot in the head sounds unpleasant, but brain-vanishing is just rotten. What were his economic reasons?"

"He didn't have a long conversation with me about it first, but reconstructing his likely reasoning I get something like: he was using daeva to make money. If more people know about daeva, he has less of an edge in his industry."

"I told," says Cam, "everybody about daeva."

"I'm Ari. Good to meet you. Do please excuse my spartan home; I live an ascetic life. I was raised by monks, you see, vanity is a sin."

"I'm not concerned about your virtue. Your aesthetics, a little, but it's better than the one with all the neon and upside-down trees we passed."

"My aesthetics are fine. Kalgor's are not, but he is color-blind, so I cut him some slack." He begins descending the tacky staircase into his tacky home.