by S J Doran
With a nod of dismissal, he crossed the hall, into the room where he’d been gathering stuff to care for his daughter. They followed him anyway.
“I need to be alone,” he said, pulling himself up to his full height and staring them down as they all looked at one another.
They didn’t leave. Wouldn’t let him shut the door. For whatever reason, his orders were being overruled. They were his guards, damn it.
He kicked a small carved rocking horse, punting it across the room, where it slid into Mara’s bassinet. His body went cold. He made his way over slowly, trying to avoid the piles of clothes and essential baby supplies, grabbing on to the polished wood on the rail of the cradle as though it were his last tether to sanity.
His other hand came up slowly, running over the thick red velvet of the blanket inside, all made up nicely, waiting for the precious bundle to be lain upon it.
Believing that happiness could exist for him was turning into a weakness of the worst sort. The devastation of the inevitable letdown left him a hollow shell.
His hand went to search his pocket where he had tucked away both the ribbon and her ring — his heart pounding when he realized he didn’t have pockets. He'd left them in his room. He felt for her amulet around his neck — and that was gone too.
He was cold inside, not even numb anymore. Icy cold rage.
Nowhere to vent it.
Couldn’t get to his father, he was being protected. Fucking celestials interfering in matters not theirs to meddle in. Leira had run off, in the chaos which had followed no one had thought to detain her, they’d all been too busy separating him and Mara. No one would tell him what had come of Bas, so he had to assume his former friend, lover and tormentor was out of reach as well.
Namtar… he wished to wring his neck and watch the life fade from his eyes as he dissipated into the ether, but Mara had him contained in her amulet.
That left him with no one. How far did this go back? Ostara who had set him up to have the child to lose? His mother who had left him for his father to mold?
Had they been working together? Were they all working together to see that the Hells were ruled by a crumbling monarch? Did they want to see Asmodeus back on the throne?
He wasn’t getting it back.
With a cool flick of his hands, he called up the hell-flames.
All of the clothes. The toys. The books.
The guards started shouting, finally leaving the room.
It burned around him, white and blue, turning orange as it latched on and ate up every trace.
Except for her bassinet. One day. There would be a day when his and Mara’s child slept in there.
“Cassius enough.” Az called from beyond the flames.
Was it enough? Could there ever be enough to purge all the hurt?
“Stop,” Az stood in front of him, shaking him by the shoulders. “Stop, just stop. It will pass.”
He was shaking his head, no words would form. It wouldn’t pass. He wouldn’t let it. This would not be another raw, festering wound on his soul. He shook off Az’s grip and shoved past him to the door where he bumped into Levistus.
“Son, don’t give in or you let them win.” Levistus didn’t try to stop him, his hand just resting on Cass’s shoulder as they walked side by side.
“Win what?” Cass hissed at him, “A crumbling monarchy? Bragging rights that they’ve managed to break me?”
Levistus’s grip tightened, pulling Cass to a stop. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, now is not the time. Shore up your defenses, bring all of your people back in line. This has shaken everyone. Everyone is in fear of what you and Amara are capable of unleashing. They need reassurance…”
“Then they will have to get it from someone else.” Cass turned from him, his voice going flat. “From where I stand, I see no reason not to join Mara and raze the realms to ashes beneath our feet. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
And they could have. He’d felt the call when he and Mara had shielded themselves with their magic joined. It yearned to take it all down, devour everything.
“Your people depend on you,” Levistus called after him. “You’re still their King. Get your realm back under thumb Cassius, this is the recipe for a deposition. Get back on that throne and show them your strength.”
“You took her away.”
Cass left him gaping and made his way to the portal.
Angles
The only route he knew to the Gods without going through Amara, was through the Fae Queen. Once betrothed to the Dark Fae King, Verity was now married to the Demigod Andrus; son of Eros and Psyche. If anyone had entrée into the Gods-realm, she would.
He would find answers. Had Ostara set him up for a fall? Was his mother… still alive? Were they all amused? He took a steadying breath, trying to maintain composure. Hard-pressed to convince Verity of the sanity of his plan if he was looking like a raving lunatic.
Verity was laughing and dancing, dark curls flying around, her young son Silas running between the feet of the courtiers, stopping as he saw Cass. He’d always had a soft spot for Verity, and that extended to her children. It had been months since he’d seen the boy, but that didn’t diminish the boy’s excitement at seeing him.
“Uncle Cass!” Silas shrieked, running and jumping into his arms.
He hugged him tightly, trying to keep his flailing limbs from hitting a tender spot. “Watch, little man. Uncle Cass is hurt,” he said, setting the boy back on his feet, trying to hide the aches and twinges pinging through his body.
“Did you come to play?” Silas danced from foot to foot, eager to be off. “I got a guitar and I’m learning it.”
Cass looked over the boy’s head and met Verity’s eyes.
“Silas, I need to speak to Uncle Cass, okay? He’ll have to listen to you play another time.” Verity ruffled the boy’s golden curls and sent him on his way.
“You’ve looked better,” she said, grabbing up his arm and leading him out of the main hall.
“Had better days, I’m sure,” he said, keeping his eyes averted. No reason for her to see the coldly burning rage that was fueling him. That would be a sure-fire way to get her to deny his request.
“Why did you come?” She said, getting straight to the point. Come to think of it, she looked as though she’d had better days herself.
“I need you to open the portal to the gods-realm,” he said with a nod of assurance. This was the right step. “And I need a sword.”
Verity looked him up and down, pondering in silence.
“You need to speak to Andrus? With a sword... in your pajamas?”
“I’ll speak to him first.” He looked straight ahead, anywhere but at her. “The sword is for my own protection.” Perhaps he had a teensy twinge of guilt for lying to her.
With a nod, she left the room. He wasn’t sure if she’d believed him; he didn’t care at this point. She returned carrying a sword, with pants slung over her arm.
“I wasn’t sure if you needed a different shirt as well, I think these will fit.” She handed the pants over, holding the sword back.
He stripped down and changed, snagging the sword from her, testing its grip and balance before lowering it. Damned faerie craft. All gilded intricacies, though, it was sharp enough.
“I don’t think I like this,” Verity said, her hands worrying over the pendant Andrus had gifted her with, a key to a portal only the gods could cross.
“I need to know. I need to speak to her.” He watched his fingers as they rubbed over the sword hilt. “He stole my mind. He stole everything. The rest of them took what was left like buzzards feasting on the rotting corpse of my soul. You don’t have to like it. I’m doing what needs to be done.”
Tears overfilled her eyes and trickled onto her cheeks.
“I don’t know of your mother Cass. Andrus has never spoken of her, or her pantheon. If you go into their realm with hate in your heart.” She pressed her hand over his heart and he winced, the skin still raw. �
��They’ll take offense, and it won’t be good for you.”
The cold took over again, his thoughts slow and oozy like a glacier eating up everything else. Vengeance. His mother had an entire pantheon backing her and hadn’t stepped in to stop Asmodeus. A pantheon that Namtar hailed from. There were too many commonalities to be a coincidence.
He took the pendant from Verity’s weakened grasp, careful not to let it touch his skin and called up the portal.
Only, it wasn’t a portal as such, instead, it sucked him through to stand directly in front of Andrus.
“Cassius,” Andrus said, his body jerking with the shock.
“I need to find Inanna’s people.” He subtly shifted the grip on his sword.
“And my wife sent you armed to do this?” Andrus said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“It’s for my protection.” He repeated the same lie he’d told Verity.
Andrus nodded, seeing through Cass’s brittle untruth. “Why now?”
“Did you know too? Was it a big joke to all the old gods? The only son of the King of Hells having his soul destroyed? Having everything taken away?” His tone was low, he was careful to keep it moderated, the rage so close to the surface, slipping around in his icy cold thoughts.
A baby cried from the other room and Andrus took advantage of the distraction to take the sword from Cass. “Would you get her for me? I’ll throw on some tea.”
Part of him wanted to take offense, but since he needed Andrus to let him through into the rest of the realm, he obliged, following the baby’s fussing into a room down the hall. He’d forgotten the tragedy Andrus and Verity lived. Neither could survive long in the other’s realm, and each of their children took after one parent. Verity could only visit her infant daughter for snippets of time, same as Andrus with Silas.
The silver-haired baby was standing at the side of her crib, cheeks red with displeasure. He picked her up and her head rested on his shoulder, her chubby hand gripping his shirt. Damn it all, he did not want to be calmed down.
He walked back out and Andrus pulled out a chair for him. “Sit.”
He turned back to his counter and poured something into two mugs, handing one to Cass.
“I knew when you were born, Prince of Lust. Your arrival made me question my own duality.” He sipped at the steaming liquid, Cass following suit after he was certain Andrus actually drank it. “The shift from mortals believing their sexuality to be a healthy matter, worthy of worship, to it being seen as a completely negative aspect. You’ll understand if I was resentful.”
Cass nodded, unsure of where the god was leading.
“No matter that he broke you down to nothing, you were always the Prince of Lust. He’s never taken away who you are, Cassius.” Andrus drank down the rest of his tea. “I won’t send you out there in the state you’re in. Drink that, it will help you heal.”
He adjusted the baby on his lap, her hands swinging at the mug. “She’s sweet. You know I was supposed to…” his voice cracked, his hand shook, and he had to set down the mug so it didn’t spill on the baby.
“Supposed to?” Andrus took the baby and sat in the chair across from him.
“I never wanted to be a father. Not after the father I had,” he snorted derisively. “Hells and it’s worse than I even remembered.” His stomach churned, Andrus pushed the mug back at his hand and he picked it up and drank it down. “My mother has a lot to answer for.”
Andrus eyed him evenly. “She gave you everything that she could. That, young King, is the sole reason your father could not break you completely. Remember that before you go vigilante on her own people.”
He stilled, Andrus’s words making very little sense. His mother had traded him, her firstborn, for her power to be returned. Bas had told him so…
His gut churned, a wave of heated anger threatening to destroy his icy calm. Of course Bas told him that.
“Understood Andrus.” He set his mug back on the table and moved to get up, “I also need to speak with Ostara. I need to know if she was working with Namtar, I need to know how deep this goes.” He met Andrus’s eyes, knowing the younger god would understand. “They killed my daughter before she even had a chance to live and I need to know if it was a set-up from her conception. Please let me by.”
Andrus’s face crumpled. “I won’t let you go after them like this. It’s suicide. I’m sorry for your loss but now is not the time. Go back and be a king to your people, heal.”
“A king would be aware of conspirators.” He got to his feet, pacing in short strides. “Someone needs to pay.”
Andrus got up and went to the sink, pulling a baby bottle out of a bowl and shaking it. “Your mother is no longer in this realm. She’s not faded, but the Sumerians keep to themselves. Inanna still has enough of a following to keep some of her people strong.” He sat in the chair, cradling the baby who was greedily attacking her bottle. “If you want to see your mother, Cassius, your best chance is to go through Kur, the Sumerian underworld. I can’t guarantee Ereshkigal will give you access, she and your grandmother have a long-standing feud.”
He stopped pacing, leaning back against the counter watching Andrus with his daughter. That could have been him. But not now.
“How would I get into the underworld?” His breathing was easier, no longer sharp pains with each breath. Andrus’s magic tea must be working. “More importantly, how would I get there alive.”
Andrus raised his brows. “You have a priestess who shares a connection to the ether. She knows the way.”
Andrus stood, putting the baby to his shoulder and walked over to Cass, taking the pendant that still dangled from his wrist.
“You want to get there alive, you need all of your strength.”
With a flash, Cass fell back through an odd portal, no more than a tear in reality.
When he opened his eyes, he was back in his room, sprawled out on his bed with Jez sitting on the edge hunched over his hands.
“You want to kill yourself?” Jez looked over at him. “Is that what this is about, Cass? You think you feel nothing — but you forget I can feel your emotions. Don’t be reckless. Stop and breathe. You need to heal and come to terms…”
“No,” Cass said, his voice scratchy and hoarse. “I need to end my father, anyone who stands in my way of that, and anyone who had a hand in destroying us.”
One step at a time.
House call
Fragmented scenes faded in and out as Amara fought the darkness which kept pulling her under. A few times she’d nearly breached the surface, finding her voice, hearing herself call out to him. “Cass...”
The sting of a needle followed her every call, and again she’d find herself thrown back into the depth of that abyss, the sedative flowing through her veins urging her to surrender. But she didn’t want to sleep, couldn’t rest until assured he was okay, until knowing her demon was safe and by her side.
Familiar voices echoed through the dark, their tones as varied as she knew their owners to be. And though awareness came sluggishly and waking was impossible, she was alert enough to understand what this meant. Her Dominae had disobeyed her orders and taken her away.
“Can’t you keep her sedated? She won’t heal properly if she keeps fighting the effects.”
Anger
“She has the tolerance level of a methed up Minotaur, so how do you expect me to keep her down without causing further harm? Without proper testing we can’t even be sure what impact this is having on her brain, Berith. You felt the shift as clearly as any of us, she died.”
Agitation.
“We shouldn’t have taken her here, we all know she won’t stop struggling until she’s returned to him. It would be best to take her back to the Nessus.”
Sorrow.
“Have you lost all sense, Malachi? You know what they were summoning. It is proof the prophecies hold truth, therefore they need to remain separated at all costs.”
Frustration
“Domina Ravanna
, with all due respect, they would not have resorted to destruction had they not felt threatened. I suggest you leave the Sarratum to my care, I will look after her through the night.”
Calm
“Er-Agate you overstep yourself, the queen is ours to protect.”
Indignation
“Dominus Berith, no disrespect was meant. I am merely pointing out that as Dominae you have been counseling her in the rule of the realm for the last century, while I have been the one tending to her.”
Strength
“My fellow Dominae, regardless of our disagreement on this matter I must concede to Er-Agate’s advice and leave the Sarratum here under her care. I believe it unwise for us to remain here much longer. Once she wakes and discovers herself disobeyed there will be consequences.”
Domina Elmira’s sultry voice was filled with the foreign tone of sorrow.
No, they had to take her back; she needed to go back.
“Cass…”
“Shh. Highness, please stop resisting the sedatives. I give you my vow he is safe. You will see him as soon as you have both rested and healed.”
Agate’s voice was proving more powerful in its enthrallment than even the potent sedative tainting her blood, her soothing words causing lucid thoughts to unravel until there was nothing left of them to cling to.
“Rest well Sarratum sa, you have both overcome fate once already. And you will do so again.”
Slowly her breaths began to even out, the fight leaving her. Cass was safe, they had survived, and they would finally be together. Prophecy be damned.
“That’s it Highness, rest and heal.”
Still she called for him, her essence reaching out to his until losing herself within that darkness. The abyss closing in around her.
Hours passed like centuries, while still fleeting like seconds, time nonexistent until she finally again could reach out for that surface, and broke through.
“Cass…?”
She slowly cracked open one eye when no answer came, then the other. When trying to turn her head to look around she found her movements restricted by what she now realized was a brace wrapped snugly around her neck.
