Kingdom of the Wicked

by Kerri Maniscalco

  He motioned to one of the chairs in front of him, but I lingered near the door. Either his powers were greatly diminished despite the greed pouring from his gambling den, or he’d tamped them down for this meeting. A demon game—feigning weakness to lure in prey, though, in this room he didn’t really seem to hide who he was or where he was from.

  Two demon guards stood behind him with their arms crossed, growling deep in their throats. One had pale green reptile skin and matching eyes. And the other was covered in short fur—similar to a deer, and had liquid ebony eyes. Two antlers curled up and away from the top of the fur-covered demon’s head. It was disconcerting, seeing something that almost looked human with the skin and eyes of an animal. I tried to convince myself to cross the room, but couldn’t force my body to carry me anywhere near those demons. “I…”

  Greed’s attention slowly shifted from me to what had caught my eye. He snapped his fingers and the room cleared. When he looked at me again, there was a hunger in his gaze—one that spoke of possession. He didn’t want to seduce me, he wanted to own me. I wouldn’t be a trophy to him like Envy, I’d be a tool for power.

  “Emilia. Please,” he nodded to the unoccupied chair, “no one will harm you while you’re here. You have my word.”

  Said the wolf to the little hen. His use of my name unnerved me, but I managed my best impression of a confident stride and sat down. “Did my sister tell you my name?”

  “No. You did. Pardon my rudeness, but I have informants stationed throughout the club. They heard your exchange with one of my regular customers.” His smile was almost convincing this time. I wondered if he sensed my fear and adjusted his responses accordingly. That thought brought on a new rush of nerves I didn’t need. Being alone with Greed was a terribly rash idea, but I really couldn’t think of a better way to get information from him. “Vittoria didn’t mention you at all, actually. This is quite a surprise.”

  He poured two glasses of water from a pitcher I hadn’t noticed and slid one to me. Crowned frogs were etched onto the glasses. I accepted the water, but didn’t drink. “Why a frog?”

  “They’re greedy creatures. Content with neither land nor water, they desire both.”

  Made sense. In a demon logic sort of way. “Did Vittoria summon you?”

  “You’re full of questions.” He studied me closely. “It’s strange… how identical you are.”

  His tone didn’t hold any clues to his emotions. It was a statement of fact. Nothing more. He didn’t seem to mind one way or the other that my sister was dead.

  “I know my sister came here before she was murdered. I want to know why. What did she want from you?”

  “Hmmm. Right for the jugular. A bold move, little mouse.” He leaned back, his gaze sharp, calculating. I did my best not to squirm under his scrutiny. “It seems I have valuable information that you’d like. And you, Signorina di Carlo, also have something of great value to me. I will answer your questions to the best of my ability, only in exchange for your amulet.”

  My hand automatically moved to my cornicello. “Why do you want it?”

  “Do you know what it is?”

  “A folk charm to ward off the evil eye.” Unlike Malocchio charms humans wore, it would also bring the world into eternal twilight if I brought it together with my sister’s amulet, according to Nonna. I decided to keep that to myself, in case he started drooling on his finely trimmed suit.

  “Mmh.” Greed removed a velvet pouch from the desk drawer, and dropped a necklace into his palm—a gold chain with a ruby the size of a quail egg that twinkled in the light. A strange essence came off it, almost like a high-keening wail in the distance, setting my teeth on edge.

  I wanted him to put it back where he’d found it. Immediately. “What is that?”

  “It’s called the Eye of Darkness, and it grants whoever wears it true protection from creatures of malevolent intent. Give me your amulet, and it’s yours.”

  A gift like that didn’t come without a price. “What else do you want?”

  “For you to join yourself to House Greed.”

  I stared at Greed and I swore my skin physically tried to crawl away from my body in protest as he gazed back. He was classically handsome, but there was something off about him. His eyes were void of human emotion. He looked alien and wrong. I couldn’t imagine my sister falling in love or even lust with him. Which meant her reason for coming here was not a result of seduction. He had information she wanted. And I wanted to know what it was.

  “Why do you want me to align myself with you?”

  “Because I believe you’ll be very useful to me in the future. If you become queen, you’ll owe me a favor. A powerful one, too, if this charm ends up saving your life.”

  Greed didn’t strike me as a betting kind of creature, which made me even more hesitant to accept this little present. I had no plans of becoming Queen of the Wicked, and would be damned if I gave him a reason to help put me on that dark throne.

  “Did you offer the Eye of Darkness to my sister?”

  “Accept my bargain and find out.”

  “If you won’t answer simple questions, I’m afraid we’re through.” I stood, ready to be as far away from this prince and place as possible, when his chair scraped across the floor.

  “Wait.” He sat back down and put the ruby necklace in its pouch again. Some of the unease in my shoulders loosened. “In a show of good faith, I will answer one of your questions.”

  “In exchange for…”

  “Nothing. You have my word. Remember, the offer is for one question, anything else will cost you.”

  I reclaimed my seat, calculating my next move. There were so many questions I needed answers to, but none of them would be worth the cost of handing over my cornicello. I thought carefully about the list I’d written out last night, and focused on one detail that bothered me the most. It meant something. I wanted to know what. I chose my words with exacting precision.

  “Tell me about the Horn of Hades.”

  If he was surprised by my choice, it didn’t show. “It’s a key that locks the gates of Hell.”

  “I heard it was part of a curse. That if a witch wears it she’ll have power over the devil.”

  “Witch legends are fascinating in their falsehoods. The Horn of Hades was a gift. Your sister knew the true story.”

  I desperately wanted to ask him what it was, but there was something more important I needed to know. “How do you break a demon spell that was cast on an object?”

  Greed’s answering smile was toxic. “I told you about the Horn of Hades. The rest will cost you. I don’t believe in giving without gain.”

  Now my smile turned sharp. “Per your rules, that was my first actual question.”

  He rolled his shoulders back, his nostrils flaring a bit. I was half convinced he was about to spring across the desk and wrap his hands around my neck. A long moment passed before he spoke.

  “Clever girl.” He reached for his glass and drank deeply, his knuckles turning white while he probably thought over my phrasing. “Sacrifice a bit of yourself.”

  “That’s not an honest answer.”

  “Oh, but it is.”

  Greed took another sip of water. “Would you like to ask another question?”

  I would like to ask another dozen questions, but dragging useful information from a prince of Hell was harder than I thought. I pressed my lips together.

  He kicked his boots up onto the desk, and steepled his fingers again. “Allow me to be blunt, Signorina di Carlo. Your sister gave me her amulet, knowing the importance of it. I need both hers and yours to work a spell. Give me your amulet, and I vow to protect your world.”

  Sure he would. Right after he pillaged and destroyed it. Suspicion coiled around me. There was absolutely no way my sister had willingly given him her cornicello. If he did have it, then he’d taken it. I knew for a fact Vittoria had been wearing it the day she died. I swallowed hard. It was looking more and more possible that I w
as sitting across from my twin’s murderer. I mentally crossed witch hunters off my list of suspects. Thus far, all of my clues kept pointing to demons.

  I wondered if Greed told my sister a similar story and she refused him. I was more than a little afraid of what he might do if I also tried walking away. He could probably sense fear, so I shoved it as far down inside me as I could, and bluffed. “If Vittoria gave you her amulet, show it to me.”

  “Ah.” He blew out a long breath. “That isn’t possible.”

  “Not possible, or you won’t do it?”

  “Both. A Viperidae was summoned to this realm. Its nest is below the cathedral and, well, they’re very protective about their space. The amulet will stay there until it decides to give it up.”

  I didn’t bother asking what a Viperidae was, or who’d summoned it. I doubted he’d tell me anything else after I’d tricked information from him.

  “And you put the amulet there…” I didn’t expect an answer and he didn’t offer one. It was highly unlikely that he would put something he wanted so badly in a place he couldn’t gain access to it. But I had a feeling my sister would. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Vittoria would never willingly give anyone—let alone one of the Malvagi—her amulet.

  Greed’s story didn’t add up. I wanted to hope against all odds he was being semi-truthful, but it was a gamble I couldn’t risk taking. He did give me another short-term goal to focus on—I’d get my sister’s cornicello back, and ask Nonna why a demon would be so interested in them.

  “Well?” he asked. “Do we have a deal, Signorina di Carlo?” “Grazie,” I said, standing, “but my answer is still no.”

  NINETEEN

  A prince of Hell is the most dangerous of the demons. He appears angelic, but will claw out your heart. To combat his power, wear or draw a cimaruta charm—a branch of a rue with five stalks sprouting designs that correlate to your needs. Choose five images needed to banish a demon prince back to his realm. Example: a key, dagger, owl, snake, and moon will send him straight to Hell.

  —Notes from the di Carlo grimoire

  Blood was the key to unlocking demon magic.

  I’d been thinking about Greed’s seemingly innocuous answer all afternoon, and puzzle pieces slowly clicked into place. I tallied up a few instances where blood had been integral with demon magic. In order to summon a demon, I needed to offer blood in sacrifice.

  Then there was Wrath and his blood trade. The supposed blood debt Nonna mentioned.

  I tried and failed to hide my repulsion. Would it be too much for demons to accept a bit of wine instead? I sighed and pricked my finger with a pin, letting a single drop splatter onto Vittoria’s diary. Breath held, I stared at it intently, waiting for some sign the spell held or disintegrated.

  There was no cataclysmic event or flash of lightning. One minute I couldn’t open it, and the next I could. I hesitated with the spine half cracked. I’d been trying to get into this diary for so long, and now I was a little afraid of what I was going to find. This might reveal my sister’s murderer. The more I learned, the more I doubted witch hunters. Demon princes were taking the lead as the most likely to commit murder. But if the devil needed a witch, it didn’t quite make sense for them to thwart his efforts. Which meant someone in our circle might have been responsible. I shivered in place. It was easy to think she’d been killed by a demon, but the thought of it being someone she knew…

  I took a deep breath and began reading Vittoria’s most private thoughts.

  The first several pages were dedicated to the perfumes she’d crafted. A few random spells, or charms for Moon Blessings and luck. A sketch or two of a cimaruta and a few other symbols I didn’t recognize. I paused on a page where she’d written down one of Claudia’s scrying sessions in great detail. I was about to scan the opposite page when something caught my eye. A tiny, almost insignificant note she’d left for herself.

  Am I hearing magical objects, or the souls attached to them over time? Sometimes the whispers are louder, clear. Other times they’re frantic and hard to understand. Similar to Claudia’s scrying, or different?

  Hearing magical objects? I stared at the line, unblinking. I had to be misunderstanding somehow. Vittoria never mentioned this ability before. We told each other everything. I was her twin, her other half—but then again, I’d never told her about the luccicare, either.

  I turned over the events of the night when we were eight. It was highly probable that she’d developed some latent ability, too. I had. Though I had believed I was an anomaly because I’d been the one holding both of our amulets. I hadn’t confided in my sister because I didn’t want her to worry about the repercussions, or blame herself since it had been her idea.

  I quickly turned to the next page, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. No clue to her magic. I flipped to another, and another. I’d gotten to the middle of her journal before finding another passage about the strange, secret magic.

  I was out near the sea collecting shells and sea salt when I heard it. It started as a whisper, frantic, too low to hear clearly. I set my basket down and clutched my cornicello, which seemed to help me focus on the voice. Voices. There were many. And they were speaking all at once. They begged me to come help. They said the time was upon us. I followed the whispers until they turned to chatter, indistinct and out of sequence—like they were speaking in tongues. It reminded me of old Sofia Santorini. Of the time her mind got trapped between realms. I wanted to walk away, to run back and get Emilia, but something warned me not to. I followed the hum of voices into a cave, high above the sea. I don’t know why, but I dropped to my knees and started digging. I found it there, buried deep within the earth. I managed to understand one line before it descended into chaos.

  Unfortunately, my twin didn’t write down the line she’d heard. I exhaled loudly, hands shaking as I flipped through the rest of the diary. There wasn’t any other passage about the mysterious “it” she’d found buried beneath the earth. I scanned doodles of flowers and hearts, Claudia’s dreams, and all of the questions Vittoria had recorded the answers to.

  I couldn’t bring myself to read the part about what ended up being our last night in the world together. So far there were no names, no people she’d mistrusted, or demons she’d struck bargains with. How she’d ended up agreeing to marry—my attention fastened on to something that made my palms dampen.

  I didn’t plan on listening to it again. I’d already decided to hide it, far from where they could ever find it. Then it whispered something that sounded a lot like nonsense, but my blood prickled. The Horn of Hades is a key to locking the gates of Hell, but, according to it, what it really is, is two somethings. They are the devil’s horns, cut off by his own hand. I held my cornicello, feeling the truth in the hum and whispers. The root of my power. Emilia and I, for reasons I am unsure of, have been wearing the devil’s horns our whole lives.

  So if that’s true, how did they find their way to us?

  I slowly closed the diary and exhaled. Holy goddess. The devil’s horns. It was hard to believe and yet… I knew it was true. We’d been wearing the Horn of Hades our whole lives. No wonder Greed was so interested in our amulets—I couldn’t even begin to imagine the damage that he could cause if he managed to get his hands on them both. I shoved that destruction from my mind and read over the last line my sister wrote again. It was an excellent question. One I fully intended to get the answer to immediately.

  “It’s about time you tore yourself away from dark pursuits, bambina. Your mother and father are sick with worry.” Nonna eyed me from the rocking chair she’d dragged across from the simmering cauldron. Spell candles for peace and restful slumber burned all around her. “All day, petrified you were laying somewhere with your heart ripped out, alone. Like your sister. Do you have any idea what you put us through?”

  I did. And I hated it, but I wasn’t the only di Carlo who had explaining to do. I moved fully into the kitchen and laid Wrath’s dagger and then my cornicello
on the island. “Is this one of the devil’s horns?” Nonna’s face paled. “Have we been wearing the Horn of Hades?”

  “Don’t be silly. Who filled your head with these stories?” Nonna got up and walked over to the cauldron, added a sprinkle of herbs and stirred them into her newest essence. It smelled of spruce and mint. I wondered where she got the evergreen, but didn’t ask. “We don’t believe in such things, bambina.”

  “A Viperidae was summoned, and is guarding Vittoria’s amulet.”

  She stopped stirring the mixture. “It’s true, then. The Malvagi have returned.”

  I waited for her to start muttering protection charms, or rush around the house, checking all the windows and doors for herbs and garlands of garlic she’d hung to keep wicked things out. She didn’t ask me to grab olive oil and a bowl of water to make sure evil wasn’t in our home this very moment. This calm, collected version of my grandmother was completely foreign to me. For as long as I could remember, she’d worried about the devil and his soul-stealing demons.

  Human children had nursery rhymes, but we’d been taught about the seven demon princes and the four—in particular—di Carlos should fear the most. I hadn’t forgotten that Wrath had been named. Nor had I figured out if he was the one who’d crave my blood, capture my heart, steal my soul, or take my life. Honestly, I could picture him fulfilling any of them.

  My grandma moved the wooden spoon around the boiling mixture, her attention stubbornly fixed on its ornately carved handle, and said nothing. Of course now that all of the nightmarish stories were coming to life, she stayed silent.

  “Nonna, you have to tell me about the Horn of Hades. Vittoria knew about it, and she was killed. Please. If you don’t want that to be my fate, too, you need to tell me what it is and why we’re wearing it. I deserve to know.”

  She stared into the cauldron and sighed.

  “Dark days are upon us. It’s time to be a warrior of the light.” Nonna left her essences and removed a pitcher of wine from our sideboard. She poured herself a glass of chianti, then sat in her rocker. “I never wanted it to come to this, child. But the hands of Fate work their own magic. Who are we but puppets on their cosmic strings?”