Kingdom of the Wicked

by Kerri Maniscalco

  I peered at the secret door, wondering if I’d be brave enough to see where it led. Whispers called to me, a little louder, a little more insistent. My palms dampened.

  Maybe wearing Vittoria’s cornicello gave me access to her magic. Which meant, whatever had drawn my sister to that cave above the sea, was now calling to me.

  If I truly wanted to find out what happened to Vittoria, I needed to see what was behind that door. With a quick prayer to the goddess, I held her cornicello tightly, and stepped into the secret passage.

  FORTY-THREE

  A crumbling old set of stairs greeted me. I hesitated at the top step, peering down into the darkness below. There were no torches or lights to guide me once I descended into the abyss. Only spiderwebs and the unmistakable urge to run in the opposite direction. The whispers were much louder and more excited in here, and covered up other noises. If someone or something followed me in, I wouldn’t know it until they were almost on top of me.

  I rubbed my thumb across the smoothness of the cornicello. I was a goddess-blessed witch wearing one of the devil’s horns. Surely I could find a way to cast a little light. I concentrated hard on my sister’s cornicello, imagining the times that strange purple light emerged, and the tiniest glow appeared. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to light my path. I exhaled, and began the long trek down.

  I kept one hand around my amulet, and the other against the wall, making sure I didn’t lose my balance and go tumbling to my death. It took a minute or two, but I finally reached the bottom. I swept my attention around, ensuring I wasn’t about to be attacked. I was in a tunnel that reminded me of the location of the Viperidae nest. I fought a shudder. I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t run into it again. Keeping those fears from taking root, I forged ahead.

  A few meters down, the tunnel forked off in two directions. The path on my left seemed to incline steadily, cutting off my view. The one on my right looked like it went on for a while before twisting to the right. Honestly, neither one seemed like a fun journey, but I wasn’t here for a good time. I closed my eyes and listened to the magic leading me. The whispers were louder on the right. And the slight tug in my center pulled me that way. So that was the direction I chose.

  I lost track of how much time had passed when I abruptly halted. My sister’s amulet had gone from a slight purple glow to a strong pulsating light. I’d never seen either of our amulets act that way before, and immediately became suspicious. I glanced around, searching for the cause and saw a crude cross painted on the wall. I must be underneath a church. I went to look away, but something caught my attention.

  There, buried a little by dirt, was a glint of silver. Whispers excitedly chittered.

  Pulse racing, I inched close and bent to brush the dirt away. My missing amulet glowed in welcome. I snatched it up and went to loop it over my neck, then stopped. Nonna said they must never touch. I wasn’t sure if that mattered anymore, but didn’t want to chance another catastrophe. I took my sister’s amulet off and stuck it into my secret skirt pocket. The moment my cornicello laid against my skin, my shoulders relaxed. I hadn’t realized how much tension I’d been carrying. It might be one of the devil’s horns, but it now belonged to me.

  I stood up, and looked around. I’d been expecting to find a secret meeting location of the shape-shifters, but there were no doors or offshoots. I was considering my options when I heard a sound that wasn’t a result of magical objects whispering. Someone was down here. It might be whoever had painted that symbol on the door, or it might be something much worse.

  I considered running, but that wouldn’t be wise. Whatever big bad creature was out there would probably love to give chase. I glanced straight ahead, happy to see the turnoff a few short meters away. If I ran, I might be able to lose whatever was following me. I didn’t waste another second considering it, I charged toward the next tunnel.

  I rounded the corner and hurried into the shadows, drew a quick protection circle, then pressed myself into a damp recess, hidden from view.

  A slight displacement of pebbles indicated my stalker hadn’t given up. I held my breath, worried the slightest intake or exhalation would give me away. My pursuer paused close enough that I could just make out his features, and I bit back a string of curses.

  “Are you completely—”

  Wrath’s hand shot out and covered my mouth before I finished my sentence. He’d crossed my protection circle without showing any indication it had affected him at all. Which should have been impossible because it was keyed with my power. I was too stunned to do something smart, like bite him.

  “Now that you possess the Horn, there are three dozen Umbra demons closing in. Two dozen of which have been following you since you left your house.” He removed his hand. “If they attack, I want you to run. Do not look back or linger. Understand?”

  “What?” Nearly forty invisible assassins had been trailing me, but that wasn’t even the most terrifying part. Imagining that many demons invading this world, and the damage they could do… it was too much. “How did they get here?”

  “I have two guesses. Either the gates are exponentially weakening. Or someone summoned them all.” Wrath pressed us more firmly against the stone, his massive body swallowing up any bit of light from my amulet that might give us away. “If you agree to it, I can transvenio us back to the palace. Will you come with me?”

  A slight tug of warning stayed my tongue. Which was odd considering I very much wanted him to magic us away from the danger. But it was also highly convenient that I only had his word about the invisible mercenaries. Envy had succeeded in one thing; he’d created doubt.

  “How does that work, exactly?”

  “Put simply, you travel through dimensions with me, and are deposited at a place of my choosing.”

  “You said I had to agree to it… does that happen each time?”

  “Once you give permission, it is eternal.”

  Despite the danger closing in, there was still that nagging feeling I couldn’t ignore. I’d rather take my chances with mercenaries than make an eternal bargain. “And what else?”

  He hesitated now. Which worried me. “Essentially it feels like you’re being incinerated while we shift time and space. It doesn’t last more than a second or two.”

  I stared at him. Fire and witches mixed as well as demons and angels. It was settled. I’d try my luck with the assassins. “There has to be—”

  “Run, Emilia!”

  He whipped around, and landed a hard kick into what could only be an Umbra demon. I didn’t see it go flying, but I heard a strange sound. If it was incorporeal, I wasn’t sure how Wrath had made contact with it. He lashed out at another, and another. It was only when they collapsed that I understood the anomaly. Wrath’s demon dagger severed their heads. Maybe holding the weapon allowed him to strike them, too.

  As they died, they lost their invisibility. I wanted to run, but couldn’t seem to move. I stared at the pale faces with deep black circles around their sunken eyes, and teeth carved to tiny points that pulled back from rotting black gums. They looked like corpses and smelled much the same.

  I couldn’t decide if not knowing their true faces was better or worse.

  “Take the horns and leave!” Wrath dodged forward, struck, heads rolled. He was violence made flesh. Watching him attack and maim demon after demon, I imagined he was invincible. He’d strike, parry, kick, and then heads would roll. Body parts went flying. Dark blood splattered. There was nothing that could stop him.

  Envy emerged from the deepest part of the shadows, his eyes glittering like emeralds. “Seize him.”

  He snapped his fingers once, and I just made out the shadowy forms of the Umbra demons as they swarmed in like a hive of vicious wasps. Wrath fought, thrashed, and managed to take out a few more, but it was no use. Even something as mighty as the demon of war couldn’t hold back the tide of invisible bodies that kept coming for him. Not unless he unleashed his full magic.

  Strangely eno
ugh, not one of them so much as breathed in my direction.

  Eventually they held Wrath in place. His power rumbled, rolled through the tunnels, but Envy only laughed as rocks rained down. I managed to dodge out of the way as a large piece crashed where I’d been standing a second before.

  “Go on. Use all of that might, brother. You’ll bury your witch.” The grumbling deep within the earth ceased. Envy cut a glance my way, smiling. “Don’t worry. It still has nothing to do with his feelings, pet. You are a means to an end. Isn’t that right, brother?”

  “If you do this, you’ll be damning yourself, too.” Even held down, surrounded by enemies, Wrath didn’t look cowed. “Is that what you really want?”

  “Maybe I like being damned.” Envy flicked imaginary dirt from his lapels. “Maybe you ought to remember what it’s like, dear brother. To have something you covet taken away. Pity you didn’t remember that I, too, am something to be feared. Allow me to remind you.”

  If it wasn’t for the sickening wet thwack and Wrath’s muffled groan, I might not have known something—aside from being surrounded by invisible mercenary demons—was wrong. I watched in silent horror as Envy’s dagger sank deep into Wrath’s groin, and he dragged it across his body, opening him from hip to hip. Guts spilled out as Wrath hunched over, his eyes wide.

  “Go,” he coughed. Blood splattered across his lips.

  I stared, unblinking. I think I screamed.

  Sounds around me were replaced with a high-pitched keening noise in my head. My face got hot, then cold. Wrath’s entire abdomen was flayed open. One second he was standing, fighting, and then… then… there was so much blood. I fell to my knees and retched.

  Envy laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls. “I’ve been wanting to do that for an age, brother. I cannot tell you how good it feels, watching you bleed out.” He glanced over at me, his upper lip curling. “Watch closely, pet. This is how I treat family. Imagine what being my enemy is like. Do not think I’ve forgiven what you and your grandmother did to me.”

  He twisted the dagger and Wrath coughed dark-colored blood. I forced myself to watch, to stand. I couldn’t fall to pieces yet. The Umbra demons holding on to the demon of war must have let go; Wrath slid to the ground, staring down at the brutality of his injury.

  Envy lifted his blade again, but I couldn’t bear it.

  “Stop!” I choked on a scream as Envy ignored my pleas and stabbed him once more for good measure. He stepped back to survey the damage. Wrath struggled to look in my direction, but couldn’t quite make it. He never struggled. I didn’t think it was in his nature.

  “Please… Emilia. I—” He gasped; the sound raspy and labored. He was dying. Truly dying.

  Something stirred in me.

  I rushed to his side, hands fumbling, and tried to stop the bleeding. “It’s all right. It’s going to be all right. You just have to heal yourself.”

  Once again, I had no spell, no magic to call upon to bind his wound together. I was too rattled to think clearly. I only had my two hands, and the hope that he could heal himself quickly enough. He slowly turned to me, the light leaving his eyes before he met my pleading gaze. This couldn’t be happening. I needed him.

  “No.” Now more than ever, he had to get up and be okay. I shook him a little. He was unnaturally still, pupils fixed. I knew what that meant and couldn’t… he couldn’t be dead. This stupid, arrogant demon was supposed to be immortal. “Get up.”

  He needed to heal. He just needed some time. I could hold his wound for a few more minutes. That’s all he needed. A few minutes. I could do that. I could stay there until he stitched himself together again.

  I was still kneeling there, hands full of gore, when his body vanished from this realm.

  I stared at the wet blood on my palms. There was so much of it. Too much. No mortal would survive those injuries. Wrath had always healed instantaneously before.

  He was hurt, but not dead.

  Just like Lust when he’d been struck with Wrath’s blade. He couldn’t be dead. That was the point of immortality. But… I’d seen life leave the demon’s eyes. Lust hadn’t looked like that. He’d still been breathing when he’d vanished back to Hell. I suddenly couldn’t breathe. Without him, I…

  I held out my hands; they were shaking. I glanced down and watched in a strange, detached manner as my whole body violently trembled. Seeing my sister’s mutilated body had been horrible, but watching someone get eviscerated… I rubbed my hands down my skirts, but the blood wouldn’t come off. I scrubbed and scrubbed and—

  “Enough of that.” Envy wrapped long fingers around my wrist, grinding the bones together. A little more pressure and he’d fracture something. “All of this unpleasantness could have been avoided if you’d have listened. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

  “W-will… w-will h-he live?”

  Envy knelt beside me, and pressed the flat side of his dagger beneath my chin. The blade was still slick with Wrath’s blood. “You ought to pray to your goddess he doesn’t. Now give me the Horn of Hades and I might consider ending you swiftly.”

  I dragged my gaze away from the spot of blood where Wrath had fallen. He’d fought for me. He put himself between his brother and me, and paid for it. Anger suddenly swept in, cleared my mind of grief. I glared at Envy, and shoved my hand into my skirt pocket. I quickly looped Vittoria’s amulet over my head, finally bringing the Horn of Hades together.

  A whiplike crack split the silence as the devil’s horns were reunited. Power surged through me. “Get out. Get out before I make you.”

  “You’re making a terrible mistake.” Envy didn’t stagger back or run, but he did obey me. “I will not soon forget your disobedience, pet. And neither should you. It is no small thing to have a prince of Hell for an enemy. Come.”

  He gathered his invisible assassins and left the dank tunnel. I waited until he was gone before I slumped to the ground. After that show of power, I couldn’t bring myself to move. I pulled my knees to my chest. Things had gone spectacularly wrong, and this time I had no idea how to move forward. Wrath was gone. My family was in hiding, and winning against the princes of Hell all by myself seemed more impossible than ever. Seeing Wrath ripped open from hip to hip rattled something in me. I’d thought he was invincible, so what chance did I really stand?

  I wanted to be brave, and bold, and smart, and vanquish my enemies with cunning. Admitting I had much to learn felt like defeat. I had magic, and the Horn of Hades, but no time to learn darker tricks to even the playing field. Nonna said she’d try to slow the gates of Hell from opening, but who knows if she’d succeed before our time was up.

  Being a realist didn’t mean I was a defeatist. Maybe things would be better if I stopped fighting, and waited to see if the devil wanted to claim me.

  Or maybe now that I had his horns I should summon him, make a bargain of my own, and stop further destruction. My attention shifted back to where Wrath had fallen. I had a feeling I knew what he’d do. And I knew what Vittoria had chosen. But I still wasn’t sure what I wanted.

  So I sat there, beside the drying blood of my worst enemy, and wept.

  FORTY-FOUR

  Resurrection spells are part of both the dark arts and the Forbidden because they go against the natural order. If you attempt to steal back life, Death will take its retribution elsewhere, balancing the scales. As above, so below.

  —Notes from the di Carlo grimoire

  An hour later I found myself outside the ruined palace. I had nowhere else to go that was safe, and hoped Wrath’s magic was still somehow protecting the building. I’d made it into the lower level and had just closed the door when a tiny spike of coolness grazed my neck. I went to ignore it when I recalled what Nonna had said about being Marked by a prince of Hell.

  Wrath had given me a way to summon him.

  I dashed upstairs, and pulled supplies out of an extra bag I’d packed days before. Black candles, a few animal bones from the restaurant, my own personal grimo
ire I’d started, and…

  Blood and bones! Without Wrath’s dagger, I didn’t have any gold, which was a main ingredient I needed to summon a demon from House Wrath. I paced around the room and cursed.

  For one bloody moment I wished something would just go easily.

  I shoved the candles out of the way and sank onto my bed, blinking back tears. I’d been so angry with Wrath after our kiss, so devastated by his omission about what he was truly after, that I’d wanted to hurt him back, but never like this.

  Watching someone you know die, even if it’s someone you shouldn’t like, was no small thing. Then Envy’s threat, the loss of my family… I didn’t know how to proceed from here. I lay down and stared at little lines in the ceiling, thinking they were like the small fissures that had cracked my life into a million little parts. Each line represented another path, another choice, another attempt to right the wrongs committed. I mentally retraced my steps over the last several weeks, trying to divine where I may have taken a wrong turn.

  When no wise answers were forthcoming, I gave up and rolled onto my side. The little dresser beside the bed had a bottle of prosecco and two glasses. A small bowl of chocolate-covered orange slices was also there. I couldn’t recall seeing either of them before, but Wrath might have brought in the treats while we were playing scopa.

  I didn’t know what to make of that, so I banished those thoughts and popped the cork, watching the bubbles fizz and softly crackle as I filled my glass. If the world as I knew it was ending, I deserved a drink before I made a deal with the devil. I brought the glass to my lips and paused. Wrath had said to look in the dresser if I was bored. I wasn’t bored, but I was intrigued.

  I set my glass down and pulled open the top drawer.

  A small gold ring hammered into olive branches sat on a bed of crushed velvet.

  It was simple but beautiful. I picked it up and slipped it onto my forefinger. It fit perfectly. My heart twisted. I knew exactly why he’d left it for me. During ancient Roman times, an olive branch was given by an enemy as a gesture of peace. A tear slipped down my cheek as I thought back to him calling it a twig of truth. Wrath, likely surmising I didn’t have much gold of my own, had given me the final piece I needed to summon him. He’d prepared for everything. Tactical to his very core.