Cryptic as usual. I decided to start with the smaller details, and work my way up to the harder questions. “Is it really a key for locking the gates of Hell?”
“Yes and no. It has the ability to open and close the gates, but that’s not all it does.”
“Are they the devil’s horns?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve known the whole time?”
Nonna nodded. I stared at her, trying to process the fact that my grandmother—who’d been making us bless our charms to protect ourselves from the demon princes our entire lives—had placed such things around our necks. “La Prima cast a spell that turned them into two smaller amulets, hoping to hide them from all who’d seek them.”
“Because they belong to the devil?”
“Because if brought together, they not only have the ability to lock the gates, they can also summon him. They grant the summoner a certain bit of power over him.”
I stared at the amulet I’d worn for as long as I could remember, wondering why my sister hadn’t come to Nonna when she’d found this out. I still had so many questions about her bargain. If we had a means of controlling the devil, why didn’t she just ask me for my cornicello?
It made sense why Greed was after it; his sin was closely tied to power. But if all princes of Hell craved power why, then, didn’t Wrath try to snatch my cornicello?
Something Envy said resurfaced amidst my confusion. “What’s a shadow witch?”
Nonna made a disgusted sound. “Shadow witches are what demons call us. We are known as Stelle Streghe.”
Star witches. “We are known? Since when are we known as Star Witches?”
Nonna gave me a sardonic look. “Since the dawn of our bloodline. We hail from an ancient line of witches who had ties to the Wicked prior to the curse. We were guardians in a sense, ensuring creatures of the underworld remained there, never interfering with the human world. For a time we worked beside the Malvagi. That was before—”
Nonna’s wine glass flew across the room and shattered against the wall. Chianti dripped like blood. I screamed, but not because of the glass. A floating blade hovered against my grandmother’s throat. My ghost demon was back, and it didn’t seem like just a figment of my imagination now. It had been quiet the last few days, and I’d forgotten it. Now it was hard to ignore Wrath’s serpent dagger as it glinted in the light.
“Little tricksy witch.”
The demon’s blade pressed into Nonna’s skin. I shook my head and stepped forward. “Please. If this is about what I did to Greed, she has nothing to do with it. Leave her alone, she’s innocent.”
“Innocent?” It accentuated the “c” until it sounded like a hiss. “She is no such thing.”
Before I could dash across the room and knock Nonna away, her head jerked back and the invisible hand dragged Wrath’s blade across her throat. Blood gushed from her wound. She gurgled, the sound one of the most horrendous things I’d ever heard. The weapon clattered to the ground. I watched everything happen as if it occurred in slow increments.
A window burst open, and I imagined the invisible demon fled through it.
Then reality crashed into me and I was in motion. I was across the room a breath later.
“No!” I snatched a cloth from the counter and held it to her neck, stanching the blood. Then I screamed until my voice broke, rousing the whole house from the spelled slumber Nonna had enchanted them with. There were spells to help slow the flow of blood, but I couldn’t think of any through the panic screeching at me. It was as if my mind shut down and all I could focus on was one basic need: hold the wound.
My mother rushed into the kitchen first, her attention immediately falling on Nonna. And the growing lake of blood. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision.
I would not let my grandmother die. Not like this.
My father appeared a minute later, his eyes widening at the sight. “I’ll get bandages.”
I stopped paying attention to anything other than keeping the cloth pressed firmly against my grandmother’s wound. Time ticked by. Blood saturated the cotton, my mother prayed over a thick herbal paste she’d made. I held firmly. I wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t panic and could act calmly. But logic didn’t penetrate my terror. Mamma tried yanking my hands away, but I refused to budge. I had to keep applying pressure. Nonna needed me.
“It’s all right, baby. Let me get this on her. It’ll seal the wound.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. It’s all right.”
It took another bit of coaxing, but I finally relinquished my grip. Nonna slid to the ground, her breathing labored. I’d seen this in injured animals before and it wasn’t a good sign.
My mother slathered the thick paste across the injury, then wrapped one of the clean bandages around it. My father had brought them in before he went to work checking for any more intruders and securing our window. My mother finished tying it off with a prayer to the goddess of good health and well-being to heal Nonna quickly. I offered up a prayer of my own, hoping she listened to us both.
“Help me get her into bed, Emilia.”
I swiped at my tears and did as I was asked. Once we’d laid her across the mattress, my mother pulled up a chair to watch. I sat against the wall and stayed there until the sun set, turning the room bruised shades of purple and black. Nonna’s breathing finally evened out, and she fell into a deep, restorative sleep. She’d made it, no thanks to me. Praise the goddess.
“You should go get some rest, baby. Your grandmother will be fine. The worst is over.”
I nodded, but couldn’t sleep now. I wasn’t sure I could ever rest again without seeing the gory scene replay in my mind. And the worst part was, Nonna was almost killed because of me. Then, when she needed me the most, I’d failed her again. I’d lost all memories of spells or healing charms. I’d shut down and let fear take control. If I hadn’t started investigating my sister’s murder, or tricked Greed, none of this would have happened.
I crept into the kitchen, wanting to clean up the blood before my parents saw it again. I scrubbed until the floor shined and my fingers ached. Then I repeated the routine. Pouring water, scrubbing. I needed to remove the stains from the grout. It took most of the night, but I finally managed to erase all physical signs of the attack. But the memory would never leave me.
I rinsed out the rag and leaned against the island, sipping a glass of water. It took a while for me to notice at first, but eventually I realized the invisible demon came here with a mission. I absently reached up, thinking of Nonna’s injury, and went to hold my amulet. My hand dropped away, empty. I forgot I’d taken it off. I went to pluck it off the counter and froze.
My cornicello was gone.
TWENTY
“You look like hell, witch.”
I glared at the demon of war by way of greeting. In a few short hours he’d be free, and I wasn’t sure he’d answer any questions once the containment spell dissipated. After the brutal attack on Nonna, I left the house and wandered around Palermo, deciding what to do next. I’d made a terrible mistake and it almost cost my grandmother her life. I shouldn’t have ever gone back to my house after confronting Greed. Of course he’d send spies after me to steal my amulet. It was reckless to think a prince of Hell would simply let me walk away unscathed after besting him.
Now that I knew my sister and I had been wearing the devil’s horns, and how powerful and dangerous they were, I had to get them back. I might not know where mine was at the moment, but thanks to Greed, I knew exactly where Vittoria’s was. I just needed some information from Wrath about the Viperidae first, and then I’d set out to retrieve it.
“You’d know better than most what that’s like.” I smiled sweetly. “I met two of your brothers, by the way. They’re absolute gems.”
Wrath looked neither surprised nor interested in the news. He sat with his back against the wall, legs straight out, surveying the circle of bones that contained him. Of course he
wasn’t wearing the shirt I’d bought for him; it was lying in a discarded heap on the ground.
“I have six brothers. You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Don’t you know who’s here?”
His attention subtly dropped to my hip before he jerked his gaze back up. “Have you come crawling back to beg for help? I’m not feeling very charitable today. Captivity doesn’t suit me.”
Demons invading my city, attacking my grandmother, stealing my cornicello, and murdering my sister didn’t suit me, either. Instead of arguing, I pulled a cannoli from the brown paper bag I’d tucked into my satchel. Nonna said you could catch more flies with honey than vinegar. I figured a cannoli would help me catch a prince of Hell just fine.
He looked startled when I handed it to him. “What is that?”
“Food. Unless you’ve been catching vermin, I doubt you’ve eaten.”
“I neither need human food, nor do I wish to taint my body with the foulness of it.”
I stared at him, horrified. After all the terrible things that had happened, this was putting me over the edge. “You really are a monster, aren’t you?”
“That doesn’t even look edible.” He took the cannoli between his two fingers and held it closer to inspect it. “What do you expect me to do with it?”
“Engage your enemies.”
He poked at the ricotta filling. “Is it poisoned?”
I sighed. “Just eat it, oh, mighty warrior. It’s for pleasure, not pain. I made them myself. I swear they’re not poisoned. This time.”
He looked skeptical, but took a bite. His attention flicked to mine as he chewed. I couldn’t help but grin as he took a larger mouthful, then grabbed a second cannoli from the bag. He was halfway through it when he noticed me still watching and scowled. “What?”
“I do not wish to taint my body with the foulness of human food,” I mocked. “But desserts are acceptable.”
He didn’t deign to respond. Instead he rummaged in the bag, frowning at the emptiness. He set it aside and looked me over again. “I imagine these delicacies were part of a larger scheme to infiltrate my defenses. You smell like blood that isn’t your own, your hair is tangled like some wild creature built a nest in it and invited its kin. My blade is missing from your hip. And you look ready to curse the world. What is it you desire to know, witch? What scared you?”
My hand moved to the place I’d been strapping his dagger. After the damage it had inflicted on my grandmother, I couldn’t stand the thought of holding it. Now I felt its absence almost as much as I missed my cornicello. “How would someone summon a Viperidae?”
“Someone with a sense of survival wouldn’t.”
“Maybe someone immortal and arrogant already did.”
“Doubtful.” Wrath wasn’t amused with my assessment of demon royalty. “Viperidae are unique creatures. If they choose to guard something, or bring it into their nest, no denizen of the underworld may interfere. They must choose to give it up on their own.”
I made a mental notation to bring him dessert anytime I wanted information. He was downright pleasant and chatty. “What does it look like?”
“Its namesake. Like a viper, it’s got long, hinged fangs. It also happens to be larger than I am and is twice as deadly. Very few antidotes exist if someone is bitten. And the ones that do exist aren’t to be taken lightly. There’s a cost for using them, like all magic. Make your own choice, but know you may not survive to see another sunrise if you disturb one.”
I rubbed at my arm, not because his warning frightened me, but because there was an annoying sensation burrowing beneath my skin. Like someone was scratching back and forth over the same section with a pin. Wrath tracked the movement and then glanced at his own arm.
It seemed our tattoos were transforming once again. Winding around the serpents—which I noted Wrath now sported around his twin crescent moons, too—were wildflowers.
Before my eyes, my snakes were given shimmering, even scales. I didn’t want to think it was beautiful, but it was. Undeniably so. Wrath curled his hand into a fist. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the pain, or because of our strange, ever-changing ink. I decided not to press the issue; I had one more question for the demon before I left on my mission.
“If someone was to attack a Viperidae, what sort of spell might they use?”
He dragged his attention from the magical ink on his arm, his look a study of resignation. “No one should be attacking a Viperidae. But, if someone was a foolish witch with a death wish, then that witch might try casting a sleeping spell. It might be the only way to sneak around it.”
“I…” I stopped myself from thanking him. If it wasn’t for him and his cruel brothers, my entire family wouldn’t be in this mess. I inhaled deeply, thinking about the sleep spell. It was simple. I liked simple plans. It meant there was less that could potentially go wrong.
“One final word of caution.” Wrath pushed himself up from the ground and moved to where I stood near the edge of the bone circle. I ignored the expanse of toned, golden skin in my face. “Freedom will be mine soon. If you are foolish enough to attack such a creature, I will not come for you.”
I stared up at him. “Good.”
Last month if someone told me I’d choose to wander through forgotten tunnels beneath the cathedral alone, tracking down an ancient snake demon guarding one half of a sacred key that not only locked the gates of Hell but were actually the horns of the devil, I’d think they needed medical attention.
Emilia Maria di Carlo didn’t do danger. My sister was the adventurous one—I was satisfied with safe, clean fun. Give me a steamy romance novel with forbidden love and impossible odds.
That was the kind of adventure I could get behind.
A little more than a month ago I would’ve laughed with my sister over the possibility that something like a giant, netherworldly snake even existed, thinking Nonna’s superstitions were hard at work again. Even with magic running through my veins, I never fully believed in the stories she told us; they were too fantastical. Immortal, blood-drinking creatures like the Wicked couldn’t be real.
Now I knew better. Every tall tale was rooted in truth.
I followed a strange, foul egg odor and bits of snakeskin that had been shed, wishing I’d gotten over my aversion to Wrath’s dagger and had taken it with me. Light from grates above dappled the ground every once in a while, but I traveled mostly in darkness.
I paid attention to the slightest shift in the atmosphere, allowing my senses to guide me. I had a suspicion the demon wouldn’t want to draw attention to itself or its precious treasure.
Plus, I already had a good idea where its nest was—Greed said it was under the cathedral, and I was quickly approaching the turnoff for it. I paused at the corner and collected myself.
I’d been mentally running through my plan, and now that I was almost facing my enemy, it seemed like it was much too simple to actually work. Maybe Wrath had decided to send me to my death armed with an impossible scheme. Diabolical demon.
I drew in a deep breath. I could do this. But I needed to move quickly. The longer I stood around, debating, the more my fear grew. I imagined what my sister would do if she were here instead. She’d charge in to save the day—like she tried doing when she’d agreed to the devil’s bargain. Granted, that didn’t turn out to be the wisest decision, but at least she was brave enough to try. Compared to what she’d done, casting a simple sleep spell and retrieving a necklace was easy.
I exhaled slowly and peered around the corner. Amber-colored light spilled into the chamber from above, illuminating the snake-shaped demon. Wrath hadn’t exaggerated—the Viperidae was bigger than he was. Oil-slick midnight scales covered a body coiled in the center of the tunnel. Even curled up, the demon took up most of the space; its prone form was taller than me by a good head or more. When it was alert and upright… I didn’t want to think about facing something like that.
I pulled a handful of dried chamomile leaves f
rom my skirt pocket, offered them to the goddess of night and slumber, and whispered, “Somnum.”
Steady breathing indicated the beast was now in a deep slumber, a gift from the goddess. I exhaled. Now I just had to find the amulet and sneak back out the way I’d come. The Viperidae faced the opposite direction, and its head was easily twice the size of our biggest oven. I didn’t have to see its fangs to know they’d skewer me with one bite.
I scanned the nest and almost whooped with victory when I spotted a familiar horn-shaped object. My sister’s amulet glinted on the ground next to the beast. As luck would have it, the cornicello was on my side of the tunnels. It seemed like it should be fairly easy to sneak over, grab it, and retreat without waking the demon. I looked around, cataloguing every exit I could make out in the dim light. Two more tunnels formed offshoots in a Y layout. Easy.
And it would have been, if it wasn’t for all the pebbles and debris littered on the ground. One small misstep and, regardless of the sleep spell, the Viperidae would be on me in an instant. I gave one last prayer to a goddess I hoped was listening, and took the first step into the tunnel.
I didn’t so much as breathe too deeply, fearful of making the slightest sound. Unnatural silence blanketed the chamber like freshly fallen snow. Once, when we were little, Nonna brought us to a cabin in northern Italy where we met one of her friends. I was too young to remember what the exact circumstances were, but I never forgot the smothering quiet of snow.
I was more than halfway to the amulet when I noticed the beast had stopped breathing evenly. I paused, foot midair, and waited for death. The trouble with sleep spells was, there was no way to prevent someone or something from waking normally.
When the Viperidae didn’t move, I decided to finish what I’d started. If it was lingering somewhere between sleeping and wakefulness, it wouldn’t remain that way forever. My attention split between it and the ground, careful to not make any noise. I didn’t so much as allow one pebble to skitter out of place.
Kingdom of the Wicked Page 13
