by Cate Corvin
“You’re in a cage. She cut off my wings. She devoured my mate.” I took a deep breath, my chest as tight as if bands of steel had encircled me. “Lucifer and Belial… if they make one wrong move, she’ll either kill or cripple them, too.”
“You know what, you’re right.” Michael plucked the bottle out of my hands and began prying the cork out of the top. “We can’t do anything. So I’ll just sit here and get drunk, until she gets bored and decides she needs a new pair of feather pillows.”
He popped the cork out and took a deep draught. A trickle of wine so scarlet it was nearly black ran over his chin. “That’s better. Bring the oblivion. It’s all that’s waiting for us anyways.”
“You can’t—” I started to say, and stopped myself.
I wasn’t about to tell him he couldn’t just give up on everything, and yet what was I doing at that very moment?
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Can’t what? Drink myself to death before she gets around to me? Maybe not, but I’ll give it my best shot.” He took another long swig, staring at me sidelong.
I glared at him. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Is it working?” he inquired, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Or are you going to go mope in a corner until we all die? Your Tascius got his wings cut off, but he was still standing when you met him, wasn’t he? He spent the majority of his life without them, but he didn’t sit around and give up.”
“I’m not going to mope,” I gritted out, biting the inside of my cheek to hold back something meaner.
“Oh. Because for a minute there, you sounded a lot like that was the plan.”
I exhaled, releasing my irritation with the sigh. “Fine, I see now. It’s not the plan.”
Michael smiled, his eyes wrinkling at the corners. “Didn’t think so.”
I peered over my shoulder at the balcony overhead. Ereshkigal’s throne had been turned, so her back was to us.
I didn’t want to go back up there. I didn’t want to know if my terrible gut feeling was correct, and if my loved ones were mad enough to come here.
But that would be burying my head in the sand and doing nothing at all, when so much still needed to be done.
“I’ll try to be the one to attend you,” I told him. “I’ll bring you news when I can.”
He raised his bottle in a mock salute. “Forget the news, just open the damn cage when it’s time.”
I rose up from the floor and turned back to the dreaded gangway. Behind me, Michael’s cage was cranked back into the air.
I scurried upwards, my arms out to keep my balance as my stomach swooped. It was nearly impossible to keep my eyes firmly fixed on solid ground instead of looking down.
But when I climbed back onto the safety of the balcony, I almost wished I hadn’t.
The slaves were arrayed before Ereshkigal, each of them prostrate before her with their hands on the ground in front of them.
One pair of hands was slim and pale. The slave’s nearly white hair spilled to the ground, hiding her face.
I froze where I was, only inches away from a steep drop, but Damuzid was there. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he smirked at me.
His eyes widened when he saw how diminished I was, then his smile grew wider. No doubt thinking of taunts he’d like to direct my way as soon as he got a moment to drip poison in my ear.
I kept my head high. Maybe it had taken Michael to get through to me, but we weren’t done here.
“Rise,” Ereshkigal said, leaning forward. “I require handmaidens and guards. Let me see your faces.”
The slaves sat up. I tore my gaze away from Damuzid as their faces came into view.
There, with the brilliant copper eyes: Haru, at the back of the line. His multiple tails were hidden, and his foxlike ears were gone, replaced with rounded human ears where they would properly be on a person.
And in the front…
My heart sank. It hit the floor and shattered.
She was expressionless and remote, but lovelier than ever, her chin set with determination.
Vyra didn’t look at me, her rose-petal gaze steady as she met the Queen’s eyes.
19
Melisande
“You.” The Queen’s voice cracked through the chamber like a whip. “Stand up.”
Vyra got to her feet, still watching the Queen steadily. She glowed like a star next to all of the other slaves, her beauty unparalleled.
That same beauty would be her undoing here. I wished I could shove her away before Ereshkigal put a glittering band around her neck that would keep her here forever, but I couldn’t afford for the Queen to see how much I loved my friend.
It was better to pretend I didn’t know her at all.
I slipped to the side, getting as close to Lucifer and Belial as I dared.
Ereshkigal studied Vyra as the succubus clasped her hands in front of her demurely. “You are pleasing to the eye. What skills do you have?”
Vyra reached up and lowered her hood, letting the light catch her white hair.
I could’ve killed her myself for daring to come here, but the Queen was all too likely to do it first.
“I can sing, dance, and play any instrument you desire.” Vyra let the cloak slip away, revealing her folded, snow-white bat wings. “I’ve learned the art of reaping, and can serve you with grace and protect you.”
“I have enough guards,” Ereshkigal said dismissively, but there was a glint of greed in her eyes.
Vyra played the part of a doll perfectly. She bowed her head submissively to the Queen. “But beauty is my forte. I can sew, paint, and embroider. There is nothing I touch that isn’t made beautiful by the end—although you are so lovely, there is nothing to improve on.”
Ereshkigal leaned back in her shattered throne, the broken bones threatening to pierce her skin. She looked over Vyra with narrowed eyes, and my lungs squeezed tight as I pictured her torturing my friend the way she’d tortured me.
Those lovely white wings torn away. Those artist’s hands broken beyond repair.
She would never heal from the damage.
“You’re a charmer,” the Queen finally said. “Honeyed words and compliments. However, my favorite little bird has disappointed me. Perhaps you will make up for her shortcomings and teach her how to behave.”
Her black eyes slid to me, and Vyra looked my way.
The only sign of her dismay was a slight widening of her eyes. Even though my heart was hammering against my ribcage, I kept my expression blank, even managed to inject a small amount of petty jealousy into it.
Anything to save Vyra. If the Queen knew who she was to me… I thought maybe that would be my breaking point, watching Vyra bleed.
“Show her to the slave quarters. Oh— and take these.” Ereshkigal picked up my severed wings and threw them at Vyra’s feet.
Little feathers blew across the floor. They scattered around my friend’s feet like clumps of ashes.
My friend went even paler than she already was, but she knelt and picked them up. I prayed Ereshkigal didn’t see her hands shaking.
“You believe you can make anything beautiful? Turn them into something lovely for me. If you can manage that, you will become one of my handmaidens, and I won’t have you skinned for false claims.”
Vyra clutched my wings to her chest. Congealing blood smeared over the front of her cloak. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
She bowed low, and the Queen waved a hand.
“Any among you who can fight, stand up,” she said imperiously.
Haru immediately rose to his feet, keeping his amber gaze studiously far from Vyra. He was followed by several other demons who looked like they’d once been powerful, but had been ground into dust during their servitude.
Especially under Damuzid, with his hard hands and cruel streak.
My friend approached me, her head still down. I jerked my head towards the corridor, my stomach churning from an overload of emotions and being unable to do anything.
Azazel, gone.
My wings, gone.
And now Vyra… here. In the last place in Hell she should be.
She followed me meekly as I led her out of the throne room. I resisted the urge to hold onto the walls as I walked, still feeling ungainly and awkward.
We finally turned into the hall where I now slept near the rest of the handmaidens. One of them looked up from scrubbing the floor, her misty eyes landing on Vyra and the bloody bundle she held.
I heard my friend’s sharp intake of breath from behind me, but before she could speak, I pushed my door open and shoved her inside.
Vyra whirled around when I slammed the door behind me. “Melisande, your wings…”
“We have worse things to worry about,” I said grimly. I wanted to hug her and wring her neck at the same time. “Like you and Haru being here, when you should be safe in Dis!”
I was nearly shouting by the end of it, and forced myself to hold back the rest. After all we had gone through to get her away from Satan, and now she was near him again… my stomach flipped.
Satan would recognize her. She was the perfect bargaining chip for him to convince me to do almost anything. All he had to do was whisper our secret in Ereshkigal’s ear.
“Haru came back and told me what had happened.” Vyra carefully laid my wings on the bed, smoothing the rumpled feathers out as though they were still attached to me. “We weren’t going to leave you here. Azazel’s told me about her before—”
“And Azazel’s soul has been eaten!” My fists were clenched at my side. “Not even half an hour ago! She cut off my wings and then she fucking ate him, Vyra. You have no idea what she’ll do to you if she finds out who you are.”
I thought of the way he’d clawed his way inside her. Azazel had to have an ulterior motive.
He had to still exist in that void, no matter where it led. He was made of the void. For him, it would be like going home.
I reached over my shoulder and rubbed the star, checking to make sure he was still connected to me, however faintly. Azazel?
There was no reply… but the life within the star wasn’t gone.
“She… she did what?” Vyra looked shocked, like I’d just punched her in the stomach as hard I could, her mouth slack.
“She ate him.” I hated myself for being so harsh on her, but Vyra, of all people, should know what she was in for. She’d already been through enough. “When she says she’ll skin you alive, she means it, Vyra. And then she’ll probably wear your skin just to drive the point home.”
My best friend stared at me. She closed her mouth, but within seconds her lower lip trembled.
Just once, before she bit down on it and lifted her head, but once was enough.
Fuck.
I felt awful. She and Haru had come all this way just for us. Even if I would’ve given my left arm to send her back to Dis right this second… I couldn’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing.
I couldn’t chastise her for coming here, even if our best chance at escape required them outside Kur. She’d be fitted for a collar soon enough.
“Just come here.” I held out my arms and Vyra practically threw herself at me. Beneath the smell of dust and sweat, she still smelled like spun sugar and strawberries, a faint hint of a scent I associated with being home. “I’m afraid for you, Vyra. She’s absolutely insane, there’s no rhyme or reason to anything she does.”
“But my brother…” she whispered.
“He’s still alive. I can feel him through the mark.” I squeezed my eyes tightly shut for a minute. “He just needs to be able to find his way back. I refuse to believe that he’s truly gone.”
I felt her shudder against me and heard her swallow back tears. Without allowing myself to dwell on everything that had happened, I stroked her hair until she stopped shivering.
“Why did you come here?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes focused on Vyra, and not on the wings lying on the bed. I could get through this if I didn’t allow myself to break down.
It wouldn’t be easy, but I’d rather be alive and barely more than human, than dead with my wings intact.
Vyra gave me a narrow-eyed look. “When you pushed me through the portal, I thought you were right behind me, Melisande. I landed face-first in the Seventh Circle and when I looked up, the portal was gone.”
“Azazel had timed it,” I told her, but that was probably very cold comfort.
“Of course he did.” She sounded bitter. “I waited for all of you. I sat on one of the buildings and just… waited. For hours. I was afraid to let myself fall asleep in case I missed one of you coming through, and Adranos started bringing me food and making me eat, because I wouldn’t have come down on my own…”
I put a hand on the wall to balance myself. I’d known perfectly well she would’ve hated being the only one safe in Dis.
“It took a whole week of sitting there, just watching and waiting, and finally… the portal opened again. Haru came through. I demanded he tell me everything.”
“Which one of you came up with the idea to come back here?” I asked, feeling weary to the bone.
“I did.” Vyra lifted her chin. “See, Azazel’s told me enough about Kur to figure out a way in. I knew I could find a job as one of her handmaidens, and Haru insisted on coming with me.”
But it’d been only a little over a week since I’d sent her back. We’d had to take the path through the Between just to get to Irkalla before Satan could meet with Ereshkigal… “But how did you get here?” I asked suspiciously. “You didn’t take the Between, did you?”
Despite the tension in her face, a small smile crossed her lips. “Haru called in a friend. He owes quite the favor now, but we didn’t need to take any of Azazel’s insane routes. We were dropped in the desert, where we managed to be ‘found’ by a caravan of slavers.”
She made air quotes with her fingers, but the moment she said her brother’s name, her face fell.
I reached out and touched her shoulder. “He’ll be fine, Vyra. We have to trust that he knew what he was doing.”
Because the alternative… only madness lay in thinking of the alternative.
“Haru wouldn’t let Damuzid touch me,” she said softly. “He threatened to, but Haru… he took all the beatings meant for me. I feel awful, because I’m so grateful. I needed to look pretty to be worth something to Ereshkigal. But now… what if he doesn’t make it? What if she doesn’t want him because he’s so beaten down?”
“She will.” I looked at my wings and my stomach flopped. “If he has any sense, he’ll show her what he is. She likes to collect pretty and unusual things.”
Vyra sat down on the bed next to my wings, so suddenly it was like her knees gave out. She buried her face in her hands, exhaled a deep breath, and braced her shoulders.
“He’ll be okay,” she whispered. “He has to be okay. Melisande… I need to make something out of… out of your wings. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault she did this.” I finally forced myself to step to the bed and touch one of them.
It felt like touching a stranger’s wing. I took my hand away and turned my back on them.
It was Inanna’s fault for binding the link between us. I refused to open up to her, still stewing in my anger.
“Vyra, she can’t know what you are to us. No matter what happens, no matter what she says or does… you don’t know us. We’re nothing to you from this day on.”
I heard her shift on the bed, followed by the soft ruffle of feathers. “I understand.”
“But… I could use your eyes. I’ll come and find you every day, okay? She likes to hear herself talk, so… if there’s anything she mentions to you, tell me, please.”
I opened the door and Vyra followed me into the corridor.
Several doors later, we found an empty room. Vyra placed my wings on an empty table, resting her palm on them. “Don’t shut me out of this entirely, Melisande. If there’s a plan, I want in on it. We cam
e for you. For all of you.”
I couldn’t bring myself to smile.
My heart was being pulled in a thousand directions, and now everyone I loved was here.
One false step and it was all over.
“I won’t shut you out, but I won’t put you in the thick of things, either.”
I led her to the storage closet, where we dug through and found clean shifts for her to wear, blankets for her bed, and finally a small basket of sewing needles and thread.
She looked at the needles, shining silver in her hand. A look of disgust crossed her face. “It feels so wrong.”
I plucked the needles out of her hand and put them back in the basket. “Everything here feels wrong, but we do what we need to do. Don’t worry about me. Make something beautiful for her like your life depends on it, Vyra, because it does.”
Her rose-pink eyes were almost scarlet in the dim light. She nodded once, her lips set.
“I’m glad we came for you, no matter what you say.”
She was the best friend I could’ve asked for.
20
Melisande
I leaned over the table to pour Ereshkigal’s wine, freshly scrubbed and no longer reeking of blood.
It had been an entire day since she’d mutilated me. A day since she’d eaten her own grandson.
I’d seen neither Vyra nor Haru in that time. Lucifer and Belial had been taken somewhere secret by the Irkallan guards, and no one would give me any information.
The need to know was going to kill me.
But Ereshkigal no longer seemed interested in calling me her little sister, which was no small relief, or her songbird. I supposed I didn’t really fit the requirement anymore.
I found myself giving objects a wide berth even though I no longer needed to pay attention to what my wings might run into. I felt a little like a small boat floating in a large sea, suddenly aware of how much protection and comfort my wings had always seemed to offer me, and now I was cast adrift.
I didn’t look into her eyes as I served her. Azazel was still clinging to the other of the mate bond, somewhere inside the void… and if I knew him at all, he would find a way to climb out.
