Iniquity (The Ascent Book 1)

by Melody Winter

  I inwardly scolded myself for interrupting him and offering no sympathy to his memories.

  “I think it’s time we went home,” he said before standing and waiting for me.

  I shuffled to my feet, all too aware of the dismissive nature of his statement.

  “Sorry,” I said, trying to catch his gaze. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

  “Your apology is not necessary. You believe I don’t have a soul, and I quite like that thought. But for your own well-being, you need to cling to the hope that I do have one, that I am driven by some semblance of need to be good. Demons, by nature, are not good, they don’t care, and they certainly wouldn’t treat you the way I’m treating you.”

  I looked away from his gaze, but in doing so caught Thomas’s concerned expression. I looked to the ground, shocked by both Paymon’s words and by Thomas’s sudden concern.

  Paymon held out his hand for me to take. I risked another glance in Thomas’s direction, and this time he attempted a weak smile. I gave him no visual acknowledgement.

  “Home, Athena. Now,” Paymon said, reaching for my hand as he limped alongside me. Today had been another long day, and I was tired. I was looking forward to tomorrow and searching through the selection of books I’d picked out earlier. The library was my favourite room in the house, and I spent most of my days browsing the hundreds of books on offer. And today, I’d come across a book written the year I was born. It was titled The Book Every Modern Woman Should Have, and promised an explanation of what everyday life was like before the world was sent hurtling into what it existed as now.

  As we strolled back to the house, Paymon was decidedly quiet, and I didn’t interrupt what I imagined to be his thoughts about the women he’d once loved. His pace was slow, awkward with his limp, but necessary to fool the villagers. I thought nothing of it until we reached the gate and he stumbled, groaning as he leaned against the gate.

  “Are you okay?”

  Odin circled above us before swooping toward Paymon.

  “Let’s get inside,” he said. “I’ll be fine. I’m tired, that’s all.”

  His face was significantly paler than normal, and he seemed to be struggling with each step he took toward the door. Odin voiced his own thoughts by squawking.

  Once inside, Paymon stumbled again and reached for the wall to steady himself.

  “You’re not okay,” I said. “What’s wrong? Tell me, I can help.” I unfastened my cloak and hung it up before turning to him.

  He was breathing deeply, laboured gulps of air that made his face twist with pain. He scrunched his eyes shut before letting his cloak fall to the floor.

  “Is it your leg?” I asked, resting my hand on his arm.

  He shook his head before looking toward Odin who was on his usual perching place at the bottom of the stairs. “You know what’s happening,” he gasped.

  “Tell me,” I said, moving to block his vision of Odin. Why did his raven know more than me?

  Paymon closed his eyes again, and I glanced at Odin who was uncharacteristically still and silent.

  “Is this some sort of demon thing? Something you do regularly?”

  “I can assure you I have never done this before, nor will I do it again,” he said before staggering forward. He used the wall to guide his unbalanced and weakened body.

  I tried to help him, offering my arm, but he pushed me away, fighting my assistance.

  “Come with me, Athena.” He stopped outside the room where we’d had our first discussion. “Open the door to the safe room.”

  I pushed the door open, and Paymon staggered inside. I duly did as he’d requested, moving to the portrait of the Master and tilting it to the right. The secret door opened, and a blast of cold air flooded into the room. I shivered before turning to Paymon.

  “Will you please tell me what’s going on?” My worry was building faster than I would have ever thought it could concerning Paymon. He slumped against the wall, clutching his stomach, and then sank to the floor.

  “Paymon?” I gasped, rushing to his crumpled body.

  “Get me to the room.” He pointed his shaking hand toward the entrance to the room where we were married.

  He groaned loudly, a shuddering sound of terror.

  “Quick, Athena,” he rasped.

  I wrapped my arm around his waist, and he hooked his arm over my shoulder. But he was too heavy, and without any assistance from his weakened body, I couldn’t move him.

  I took his hand in mine, our matching marked marriage hands, and willed him to feed from my emotions. There were plenty charging through me at the moment.

  “Feed, Paymon,” I said. “Take all you can so you can get to the room.”

  “Athena . . .”

  “Feed!” I demanded as his eyes locked with mine.

  “I can’t.” His voice was a whisper, a hushed sigh of air. He moaned loudly, a direct contrast to his words.

  “You can. Do as I say. Feed from me.” I was desperate. I had no idea what was happening to him, but I had a frightening thought that if he couldn’t feed from me, it was something very serious. “There are plenty of emotions for you to take. Just do it!”

  “Athena . . . it’s too late.”

  “It’s not, please, try again.” I squeezed his hand between both of mine. I knew he didn’t need contact to enable him to feed from me, but I somehow felt that it should.

  “I’m dying. . .” he said, his voice failing as he struggled to breathe.

  “No. No, Paymon, you’re not. You can’t.” Tears sprung into the corners of my eyes as I searched for his pupils. Our eyes locked, but there was no black pupil to see. Just his normal chestnut iris.

  “Feed from me, damn you. Please, feed.” He couldn’t die. Demons didn’t just die like this. I knew he was old, but this was so sudden. Had he known this would happen? Had he picked me as his wife so he could enjoy his last few weeks alive? No. I shook my head, Paymon intended to live longer than this.

  He lifted his hand to his neck.

  “Do you want water?”

  He shook his head and tried to unbutton the top of his shirt. I immediately assisted as his hand fell away. Paper thin, pale skin was revealed.

  “Take it.”

  I dipped my head closer. “Take what?”

  He pulled at his shirt, and a silver chain became visible.

  “It’s yours now. Use it well.” He managed a smile before his face contorted with pain. “Take it!”

  Doing as instructed, I pulled on the chain, lifting it as gently as possible over his head. Unseen until it was removed was a pendant that hung from the chain. A plum-sized pendant, it looked like bright blue glass encased in an intricate design of open silver leaves.

  Shocked by its beauty, I stared at it for several moments.

  “Thank you,” I offered through tear-stung eyes.

  “I need to tell . . . you,” he said.

  I leaned closer to catch his words.

  “Your gran.”

  “What about her?”

  “She . . .” He coughed and his face scrunched up. “She . . . was dying. She asked me to end her life.”

  I froze. A surge of emotions hit me. I slumped forward as waves of sadness crashed over me. My tears broke free, and I bowed my head. I’d had Paymon wrong, so wrong. I thought he’d killed her, struck down an elderly woman for no other reason other than because he wanted to.

  “She made another deal with me, years before that day.” His voice was becoming quieter, and I struggled to hear every word. “She was in pain. I promised I’d end her life when she asked me.”

  My tears continued to flow.

  “Do you forgive me?”

  I bit my lip as I looked him in the eye and nodded. “Yes.”

  He smiled. “Look after Odin.” His voice was disappearing as fast as the life was draining from him.

  “I will.” I concentrated on his eyes, unwilling to look away.

  He shivered, and once again, I took hold of
both his hands and held them in mine. He was cold, not warm.

  “Paymon,” I sniffed, the tears falling uncontrollably, “don’t leave me.”

  His eyes closed, and his usual silent breathing became a strained gasp for air.

  It was his last living action.

  His face relaxed, and his head lolled to the side.

  A loud hissing noise sounded from the doorway of the secret room, and as I turned to see what was making the noise, ribbons of red and amber air swirled through the doorway toward me and Paymon. I jumped away from his body, confident that the swirling coloured mist was meant for him, not me.

  I stood, wide-eyed, as the mist wrapped itself around his body and lifted him from the floor. Demon magic. It was powerful. It was also beautiful.

  The swirling mist carried Paymon toward the door it had emerged from, and I followed, not willing to just hand Paymon over to whatever forces were at work.

  Once in the safe room, the images of our wedding flitted through my head. He had been so powerful that day, so full of energy and excitement about what our life would be. It felt wrong to be back here now, only a few weeks later, with his still and lifeless body.

  I focused on him as the mist gently released its hold, laying him on the pentagram on the floor. It arranged his limbs into the same position Paymon had placed me in. The candles that were gently flickering when we entered the room flared several times and then burst into ferocious heated flames. I stepped back toward the bottom of the steps, sheltering myself against the stone wall as the heat built in the room.

  A low mumbled chant began. Demon language bombarded me from all sides. And as the chanting became louder, as if spoken by many people, the flames from the five burning candles rose high into the room before arching into the middle of the pentagram—straight toward Paymon’s body.

  I released a loud sob, knowing that the flames were going to take him. This was the ceremony that would take every last part of him away from me. I looked away, not prepared to see the image of him burning.

  Crackles and snaps of burning flesh assaulted my ears, and I cried freely, mourning his unwanted departure.

  A loud roar filled the room, and I startled, switching my gaze back to the centre of the room. The flames swept high and then instantly died.

  Focusing on where Paymon’s body had been, nothing remained. He’d gone, whisked away by demon magic. The pentagram was drawn out on the floor, as if awaiting another person. The candles around the room were flickering innocently, not as if they had just incinerated a man.

  My vision blurred, and I was suddenly cold. It was as if a part of me had died with him. How strange that I’d grown so attached to him in such a short amount of time. I took a deep breath and tried, unsuccessfully, to control my tears.

  I trudged up the stairs and back into the room. Passing through the hallway, I caught sight of Odin silently strutting across the back of the sofa in the lounge. I sniffed loudly before calling him.

  He flew to my side, and we climbed the stairs together.

  My bedroom was cold, and once the door was locked and Odin settled on the end of my bed, I turned my attention to the fire. It usually burnt brightly, but now it was nothing more than a pathetic splutter, the embers fading fast. I trailed my hand through the water in the tub—cold. And as I lifted my hand, I noticed my marriage mark was fading.

  Not only had Paymon gone, but everything about him, everything controlled by him had also gone—died when he did. The warmth that had constantly surrounded me since I arrived in the house was now replaced with a cold synonymous with the temperature in the village.

  I threw myself on the bed and wrapped my hand around the pendant Paymon had given me.

  There was no ceremony to celebrate the end of his life, no one to reminisce about his time alive. I knew so little about him. A few weeks of knowing him was nothing compared to a lifetime of memories.

  What happened now? Was I free?

  I jolted when a loud, slow scratching noise sounded out.

  Spinning to the source of the sound, I stared at the bedroom door and clasped my hands to my chest.

  The scratching stopped for a few moments but then started again, only this time it was more insistent, demanding my attention.

  “Atheeenaaa.”

  My eyes widened and I gasped.

  Bia.

  ODIN SQUAWKED. HIS WILD FLAPPING of wings knocked my hairbrush and perfume from the dressing table.

  “Atheeenaaa.”

  More scratching.

  Since the time I’d discovered Bia, I’d kept away from the kitchen. I’d left her alone, scared of another attack. Paymon had compelled her not to harm me, but he wasn’t here anymore, and just like all the other things he’d controlled, his magic had died.

  I glanced around the room; the door wasn’t an option. The windows were my only way of escape.

  “Atheeenaaa . . .” A loud thump hit the door. The noise was too solid to be her hand. Was she actually throwing herself at it?

  Odin was cawing and flitting from one vantage point to another.

  I rushed to the window at the end of the room and fumbled with the unfamiliar lock. My hands shook as I slid the metal catch to the side. I pulled at the window, but it wouldn’t budge. Mustering all my strength I strained against the stiffness of the wooden frame, and little by little it eventually slid open. Once the first few centimetres of outside were revealed, the frame shot up. The bitter sting of wintry air rushed into the room, and I hunched my shoulders against the freezing temperature.

  There was another thud, and then silence.

  “Come on, Odin,” I whispered. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  He fluttered to the floor next to my feet, and I nodded at him before hitching my skirt up and lifting one leg out of the window.

  “Let me in.” Bia’s tone was more insistent, annoyed, and I ducked my head under the window, shifting the bulk of my body outside. I couldn’t see the ground below me. Shadows and the darkness hid my landing spot. I swallowed, ignoring my intrinsic desire to go back into the room. Bia was still calling my name and charging at the door. Injury from a fall seemed a small price to pay when the only other option was Bia attacking me. I glanced at the forest sprawling out in front of me like a sinister, frosty unknown. And in the distance, the warm flickering glow of lanterns in the village beckoned. I took a deep steadying breath. I had to jump.

  As another thud hit the door. Odin squawked, and my instincts kicked in. Shifting my other leg through the window, I didn’t pause. I twisted on the thin ledge and fixed my hands firmly on the wood before letting my arms take my full body weight. I hung for a split second before letting go.

  Pain shot through my ankle as I landed, but as Odin flew out of the window above me, his calls of alarm had me hobbling toward the surrounding trees. My ankle jarred on each step I took, and needle-like jabs twisted up my leg. I winced each time my weight fell on my ankle, but managed to stumble forward. Each step took me nearer to the forest and the safety of the cover of the trees. Odin landed beside me and then hopped ahead, silent as he guided me away from the house.

  I pressed my lips together, gritted my teeth, and began to run.

  Only when I was under the cover of the trees, hidden behind a trunk, did I sneak a look back at the house. Bia was standing at the window I had jumped from. Her ghostly pale skin was highlighted against the darkness behind her, and I momentarily panicked that she would follow me.

  My stomach twisted with a heightened fear when she leaned out of the window. She scanned the surrounding forest, slow and methodical with her sweeping eyes. When she started to laugh, my skin prickled with nervous anticipation.

  “Go!” she hissed into the darkness. “Go! Run away. I will find you, Atheeenaaa.”

  I looked around for Odin. He was perched on a nearby branch, his all-knowing eyes also watching Bia. I waved my hand in the air, taking care that my action was completed behind the tree so Bia couldn’t see. He turned his
head toward me, and I pointed in the direction of the village.

  He dipped his head before turning to look into the oppressive darkness of the forest.

  I glanced back at the window seeing Bia disappear into the darkness of the room, and with no further thought, headed into the forest.

  Damp, cold moss wet my fingers and sharp angular branches scratched my hands as I blindly staggered forward. Freezing air nipped at my flesh, and the wind that rustled branches carried the cloying scent of pine. Odin flapped a short distance in front of me, and I followed, trusting him to guide me to the village.

  A distant howl sounded out, and I stopped moving. My breaths were coming short and fast, the air in front of my face misting as soon as they left my mouth. Odin stilled as well, and we both stared at each other. After a few moments, there was another howl, only this time it was nearer. With a nod of my head at Odin, we began moving again. I didn’t walk this time, I ran. My heart thudded, and my senses became fine-tuned. Every snap of a branch, every rustle of leaves, and every shift in scent hit me. We weren’t alone. We were being chased.

  “Keep moving,” I called to Odin, ignoring the throbbing pain in my ankle.

  An overpowering stench of rotting food replaced the scent of pine, but I carried on running.

  There was a flicker of movement to my right. The undeniable crash of footfall behind me.

  Heat exploded on my back, and I screamed as I fell.

  My attacker was revealed as I looked up. Standing far higher than me was a creature that resembled the docile deer I had once seen enter the village. Only this one was demonised. Its snout was elongated, and as it snarled, it revealed a row of sharp teeth. A large set of antlers were on top of its head, and small, piercing yellow eyes surveyed me. It stood on its hind legs, although its front ones, each with four large claws, grazed the muddy ground. Its large pulsing heart was visible through exposed ribs.

  It tipped its head back and howled. The sound sent shockwaves of terror running through me, and I whimpered when another distant howl responded to the creature. I grovelled amongst the leaves and dirt on the forest floor, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. A stick, dirt—something to throw at the beast or defend myself with. My fingers wrapped around a rock, large enough to inflict injury, but easy to lift in one hand and throw with accuracy.