by Lily Velez
The space was larger than my entire home back in Colorado. In fact, Kai had given me and Jack entire wings for the duration of our stay, though they were unfortunately on opposite ends of the royal household. Kai had claimed our being in the same space for so many days would give off too strong of a mortal smell to his subjects.
“Though I’d expect anyone under my rule to obey my commands, demons, at the end of the day, are such wily things,” he’d said. “I wouldn’t put it past one to steal you and Jack away in the middle of the night for a handsome reward. Or to simply devour you bone by tasty bone.”
“Your hospitality is unparalleled,” I replied in monotone.
My handmaids led me to my four-poster bed, where red fabric spilled across the mattress. I paused, stunned by what I’d be wearing to the fête. It was, simply put, gorgeous.
The gown boasted a sweetheart neckline with delicate, off-the-shoulder straps, and the bodice’s slim waist flared out into the fullest ball gown skirt I’d ever seen, its countless layers like the folds of a rose head.
Maybe that was the point. Maybe I was supposed to look like an innocent, pretty little flower that could do no harm.
My handmaids helped me inside the gown. I thought I’d be overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the skirt, that I’d lose myself in the dress or wouldn’t be able to fill it out, but once it hugged my frame, it was clear the gown had been custom made to my precise measurements.
I stood before a triple mirror and twisted from side to side, wondering who the stranger reflected back at me was as my handmaids accessorized my look with jewelry. I was something out of a fantasy, the silver-tongued seductress in a spy movie maybe, the femme fatale who got what she wanted. Drop earrings covered in diamonds glimmered in the light, matching the diamonds at my neck.
It was strange how playing dress up could almost make me believe I was meant to be at tonight’s fête, that I was a seasoned insurgent capable of deceiving the very gods themselves.
I straightened my shoulders and tipped my chin up in an effort to not feel so much like an imposter.
You stopped the Reaping. Stealing a sword should be nothing next to that.
It’s what I wanted to believe at least.
A knock sounded at the door, and my heart went wild between my ribs.
It was time.
My movements were slow as I crossed the room in nothing short of a balancing act. While I was at ease with the familiar fit of my gown, I couldn’t say the same for my footwear. I donned black stilettos that elevated me more inches off the ground than I was used to. I couldn’t shake the constant fear that I’d twist my ankle or step on the ends of my gown and shred off a strip, revealing more of myself than I cared to. I gathered my countless skirt layers in hand, hiking them up to prevent just that.
“Wish me luck,” I said to my handmaids as I opened the door to my room.
I stopped short when I found Kai on the other side.
I had expected him to send a servant to fetch me, not for him to collect me himself. There was a spark in his garnet eyes as they combed over my figure, and I couldn’t help but tug at the sheer fabric of the gown’s straps, pulling them slightly back onto my shoulders.
“My, my, little witch. Don’t you look ravishing?” After an appraisal that practically lasted an eternity, his eyes returned to mine. A single eyebrow rose at my immobility. “By all means, don’t be shy. I’m afraid you won’t be able to claim the Sword of Light from the comfort of your bedchamber. You do realize that, don’t you?”
I rolled my eyes but stepped out into the hall, each step careful in my stilettos, and Kai made a full circle around me, in no particular hurry as his eyes swept up and down the length of my gown. A trail of smoke followed him, and the distinct smell of burning leaves filled my nose.
I resisted the urge to cross my arms over myself despite how exposed I felt. I didn’t have the type of curves Zoe Rivera had, but the bodice of the gown had given me a beautiful bust, one that made me feel more womanly, more sensual. With Kai examining me like cattle at an auction, however, I wanted to cover myself up with one of my trademark cardigans.
“What a vision you are indeed,” Kai said. “A pity you’re not a demoness. Perhaps our night might’ve ended on quite the different note once we finished with this little errand of ours.”
I scoffed. “Someone’s confident.”
He stopped in front of me with a smirk, his eyes glittering. There was something so feline about the way he moved. Every step was smooth, effortless. “What? You don’t think I could be charming?”
“Demon and charming aren’t necessarily two words I tend to pair together.”
“And yet in ancient times, demons were revered as guiding spirits and protectors, intermediaries between mortals and the gods. It was only when the popularity of monotheism surged that we became linked with evil.”
“So demons are just misunderstood?”
His smirk deepened. “Would that conflict so terribly with your standing view of us?”
“In case you missed the memo, demons aren’t really high on my list of creatures I’m happy to have encountered lately.”
“Ah, yes,” Kai replied, stepping around me to stand at my back. I steeled myself and remained stationary. I didn’t want him to think for a second that I was afraid of him.
“You poor, magicless thing,” he said. “I imagine the emptiness you feel must be overbearing.” He traced two fingertips down the swirls of my hairstyle, moving a lock out of the way to speak nearly against my neck. My nerves jumped the moment his breath touched my skin. “You could always borrow my magic if you so wished. I seem to remember you taking to it rather eagerly. What do you say? Shall we have another go?”
I swiveled around and fixed him with a hard glare. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the Dark Lord’s son when we first met?”
Somehow, he managed to continue smiling, unruffled by my question. His composure only aggravated me further. “Perhaps I didn’t want to spoil our budding friendship.”
“We are not friends, Kai.” I hadn’t expected so much heat to be in my tone, but giving voice to my anger apparently stoked hidden flames in the forge that was my chest. I kept thinking about what Alistair had said about Alison and Redmond Connelly’s fates being sealed from the start, how Redmond had been drawn to make a deal with a demon just so that Jack could be bound to the Dark Lord.
Kai had been the one to strike that bargain over eighteen years ago. I wanted to ask him point-blank if he’d known about everything that had hinged on that one exchange. But was the question really necessary? Of course he’d known. As a prince in the forsaken lands, how could he not? It was all I could do to keep from strangling him with that stupid chain of office draped over his shoulders.
“Your highness.” A demon clad in armor with the head of a bull strode toward us. When he reached Kai, he bowed at the waist. “I bring news from your brother.”
I remained in place, curious as to what sort of tidings Kai exchanged with his royal siblings.
Unfortunately, he had no intention of discussing private matters of state in my presence. “Continue down this corridor,” he instructed me, his facetious mannerisms completely vanishing. He didn’t even regard me, his hands already tearing at the sealed missive his guard had delivered. “Take the stairs on your left, and you’ll find Jack waiting for you.”
We aren’t finished with this conversation. I mentally shot the words at him like a missile. With any luck, they’d explode on impact.
Gathering the layers of my skirt once more, I stomped off. Or at least I tried. I forgot about the precarious height of my heels and nearly fell against a wall.
Once I rounded a corner, and Kai and his guard were out of sight, I slowed down and took a few deep and calming breaths, the bodice of my gown feeling more like a corset. There would be no room in my mind for anger tonight. I needed to be able to think clearly.
I closed my eyes and focused on the breath tunneling in and o
ut of my airway. Once I pacified myself, I continued on, coming upon the stairs Kai had indicated within minutes. I was glad for the support of the black marble bannister. My palm slid across its smooth, icy surface as I began my cautious descent, the stilettos slightly wobbling.
Halfway down the stairs, I saw him. He was standing in profile, a lone figure who could’ve passed for a mournful apparition as still as he was, as reflective as he was. Ever lost in his own thoughts. But my approach reached his ears, and he turned to me, and in that moment, the breath rushed out of my lungs in one fell swoop.
Jack was as devastatingly handsome as ever, so beautiful it hurt my heart to look at him. He donned a slim black tuxedo, complete with satin lapels, a bowtie, and a pocket square over his heart. Somehow, he appeared taller. His shoulders were broad and proud within the suit, the fabric a second skin against his athletic build. His hair was slicked back, the lights bright against its sheen, and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought him a movie star.
I slowed my descent, drinking him in. I didn’t think it was magic how I instantly relaxed at the sight of him, the last of my unease slipping away, evaporating so completely. No charmed object could’ve possibly filled me with the things I immediately felt upon seeing him either. I was at once anchored, moored to the unchanging, immoveable steadfastness that was Jack Connelly.
Once, when I was ten or eleven, I’d gone camping with a friend and her family for the long weekend. We’d had such fun, making memories I still cherished to this day. But at the end of those three days, I remembered the jolt of excitement that had flared in my chest the moment we pulled into my driveway. I remembered how relieved I was to return home, to hug my mom, to collapse across my bed in a space that was all my own. It was like finally letting go of a long-held breath.
That’s what it felt like as I made my way down that staircase toward Jack, like I was coming home. Like I was returning to a safe space, a sanctuary. With him, I didn’t have to put on a brave face if it was far from what I felt. With him, I didn’t have to feign strength when all I wanted was to be held. With him, I didn’t have to be a warrior.
With him, I could simply be.
And my soul sung as the exhausting tethers fell away, no longer weighed down.
I’d sorely missed his presence these past days. I’d longed for his company, for all the comforting things he would’ve said to me in that rich timbre of his that had a way of reaching into the deepest parts of me. It was any wonder I didn’t throw myself into his arms as happy as I was to see him.
He drifted to the foot of the staircase, his eyes pinned on me. Absorbed in my own thoughts, I hadn’t noticed the way he was looking at me. But now that I focused on his face, my heart tripped. He stared at me, lips slightly parted, as if in wonder.
A flutter of excitement danced in my chest. Although admittedly, I was equal parts embarrassed as well. I wasn’t used to having such a profound effect on a boy, especially not to the point of rendering him speechless.
Jack offered his hand to help me down the final step, the hum of his magic tickling my fingertips, and then we were face-to-face, and the spell we’d cast on each other was as thick and hypnotic as ever.
“Scarlet,” he said, his voice low, as if speaking any louder would break the sacred vacuum of space that had encompassed us. “You look…”
My heart galloped. I expected one of the usual sentiments. I expected him to tell me I looked beautiful or stunning or breathtaking. Any of those words would’ve had me soaring, would’ve instantly rocketed me to cloud nine and beyond.
Instead, he said, “You look like an absolute goddess.”
And somehow, those words were a thousand times more affecting, because goddesses were worshipped by their devotees, weren’t they? And I was almost sure I wasn’t imagining the thirst in Jack’s eyes, this need he gave off to kneel before me in reverence, in total adoration and worship, as if I were somehow integral to the salvation of his very soul.
We stood there, lost in each other’s eyes. I couldn’t breathe or find my words or do so much as think a simple thought. Jack filled my vision so completely, and I had no desire to fight the magnetic force drawing me toward him.
And so this time, in the endless back-and-forth dance we’d become so practiced in as of late, I was the one to step forward, to cancel the space between us. It felt so bold a move, and yet everything about it was right, familiar. I looked up into his steady gaze, his lashes painting willowy shadows upon his skin.
Jack inclined his head. His minty breath caressed my cheek. My fingertips burned with the urge to touch his face, to smooth a trail over those dark patches under his eyes, to make a constellation out of the scattering of freckles spread across his cheekbones.
There had to be only inches separating our lips.
I leaned in—
“Good, the two of you have managed to keep your heads intact.” Kai’s voice instantly pierced the bubble enclosing us, and the hot air rushed out in a burst.
I pulled back at once, dizzy and feverish and breathless. I threw a violent look Kai’s way, and the demon had the nerve to grin wickedly at me, knowing full well what he’d intruded upon. I nearly balled my fists.
“Step lively, witches,” he said, striding off and expecting us to follow. “We have a wildly spectacular party to crash.”
16
Scarlet
Nightfell loomed before us, rising out of the rock of a majestic mountain range, each peak like the ridges on the back of an enormous, slumbering beast. A beast designed to kill. Towering walls of stone branched off the main fortress on either side and extended up and down the mountain range, armored sentinels stationed along its length, on guard behind crenellated teeth of stone that seemed to bite at the night.
Under three crescent moons that were like slashes in the backdrop of black, and in the punishing cold of a blizzard, the seat of Morrígan’s kingdom most certainly gave off a severe and savage air.
“You’re absolutely sure the sword is here?” I asked, pulling my velvet cloak closer around me, my eyes fastened to the fortress. “Why does Morrígan have it anyway?”
“It was one of her war spoils,” Kai said. He gestured with his hand, and the air before me shimmered before a scene took shape. In it, a man and a woman in armor faced off.
“Nuada and Morrígan,” Kai explained.
Nuada’s face was smeared with blood and dirt and perspiration. His sweat-drenched hair fell to his shoulders in waves. Blood poured out of him from numerous wounds, dripping onto the dry earth, pooling into so many small puddles. Breathing hard, he stumbled and crashed to his knees, throwing out a hand to keep himself steady. A silver hand.
I looked to Kai in question.
“His original hand was sliced off at the wrist during a long-ago battle. The god of healing, Dian Cécht, restored him to wholeness by fashioning a hand from silver.”
In the scene, Morrígan approached the fallen god with a self-satisfied smirk, her dark eyes, framed by smudged war paint, glowing with a wildness that chilled. Her black hair fell down her back like a veil of mourning, though I didn’t get the impression she mourned in the least bit for her opponent’s fate. There was a loud caw, and then a crow alighted on her shoulder, its beak and feathers stained with blood. What a striking pair the bird and the goddess made.
Morrígan collected Nuada’s sword from the ground, where he’d dropped it upon falling, and directed its point to his throat
“Today, you are unseated,” she said, that bloodthirsty gleam in her eyes never abating.
The scene faded away, carried off in the snow and wind.
“Nuada was never seen again after his defeat,” Kai said. “It’s believed he retreated into the wildlands to live as a hermit, too weak to retrieve what was rightfully his. Some say that because the sword was taken from him, the very emblem of his power, he eventually evanesced.”
My throat tightened. I hadn’t even known it was possible for a god to die. I knew K
ai had spoken of infighting between the gods, but it seemed so barbaric a thing for one deity to cause another’s death. For Nuada’s sake, I hoped he still lived.
As I thought it, a winged monster suddenly streaked across the night sky. I staggered back, eyes wide at the spiked tale, the talons.
“Is that a…?”
“Dragon, yes,” Kai replied casually. “The goddess keeps dragons as a mortal would dogs.”
My heart started striking against my ribs in a furious, fast-paced beat. It took me a few moments to remember to breathe. I continued staring at the stars, jaw slack as the dragon soared across the heavenly bodies. At one point, it opened its massive jaws and released a bellow that made every bone in my body hum.
It was only when a particularly frosty blast of wind nipped at my cheeks that I remembered myself. I shivered. Kai had wayfared us here, or had used whatever the demon equivalent of such a Mastery was, so we’d spent only minutes exposed to the elements thus far, but even that was far too long in weather like this.
I could’ve asked Jack to spare me some of his magical warmth, I knew, but there wasn’t any more time for lingering outside. I needed to focus on Nightfell. I needed to focus on beginning this mission. If I didn’t move forward now, I feared I’d lose my nerve.
“Are we going to go inside or what?” I asked Kai. By his account, Morrígan’s fêtes were by invitation only. Somehow, by means he wouldn’t disclose, he’d secured an invitation to tonight’s exclusive event, meaning we wouldn’t have to sneak in, not that I detected any way we could have, considering the daunting security detail.
“I see patience is far from being your virtue,” Kai said, turning toward us. “First, I’ll have to put a glamour on the both of you. You obviously can’t waltz into Nightfell as mortals. And not just any mortals, but a witch with an expiration date on his demon’s mark, and another who’s a prized Daughter of Brigid. Let’s see…”
