What Everallin was doing—taking in refugees—was stupid. Sooner or later, death would spill in. The food would run out, and cannibalism wasn’t a last resort anymore. Wolves would break through the door, or the quarantine wouldn’t lift, or raiders would come—endless opportunities for failure.
Still, watching Everallin behave like a coven priestess refreshed Lilith’s spirit. She liked things that fought for sheer survival.
Sadly, predators outnumber the prey these days.
“We have safeguards in place,” Everallin said. “Hexes, mostly. If anyone who crosses the threshold starts puking up their guts, we know they've eaten human flesh. If their gums start to hemorrhage, we know they're infected. My familiar weeds out the rest of the threats. The holy water we’ve placed at the door scares away the minor nuisances.”
“A familiar?” Lilith looked about. “I've never met a familiar.”
“That you know of,” Everallin said. “You won't be meeting mine.”
“Yet I got in,” Lilith pointed out, “and I’m a vampire.”
“But you don’t mean me any harm, not yet. Even when you change your mind, you won’t kill me.”
Oh, won’t I? Lilith thought, not because she wanted the witch dead, but mostly because she didn’t like being told what she would or wouldn’t do.
“Come, now.” Everallin led her down a hall behind the high altar. “Tea? Wine?”
“No, we should—”
“Get this over with, I agree.”
“For the sake of civility, you could pretend you don't know what I'm going to say.”
The witch grinned. “Where's the fun in that?”
Lilith snorted. She hadn't expected to like Everallin, but she did.
They went into a narrow office that must have belonged to a priest given the pair of chairs before a modest, sturdy wood desk. Books lined the walls. It was a comfortable place where troubled humans could receive council on private matters.
Lilith resented the implication.
Everallin walked behind the desk, taking the position of advisor.
Lilith plopped into a chair and crossed her arms. “How did you fall in with Catherine?”
Everallin examined Lilith. Finally she said, “Catherine knew my mother and my mother's mother. Commissioned a few trinkets. Mostly, she liked to keep an eye on me.”
“Because of your ability to read the future?”
Everallin snorted. “No, Catherine didn't give a shit about the future. She thought she was safe as long as she had her port, her house, and a flock of servants.”
“You know she's dead,” Lilith said, hearing how she spoke of Catherine in the past tense.
“And I know you killed her.”
They stared at each other.
“She's the benefactor you’d recently lost,” Lilith guessed.
Everallin nodded.
Lilith pursed her lips. “If she didn't use you as an oracle, why…”
“She safeguarded me because of my bloodline. Because of who my aunts—thirty generations before me—are.”
Lilith waited for more, but the oracle stayed silent. Everallin must have known the question on Lilith’s mind. Probably knew the exact words she’d use to ask the question, and the exact way she’d look while doing so, and the precise effect it would have.
The question remained: who was the oracle exactly?
Lilith sucked her teeth. “Don’t be difficult.”
“Fate,” Everallin said. “I’m related to the sisters who became Fate.”
Lilith’s jaw dropped. Immediately, her mood turned sour. Fate had leveraged the future of their species and destroyed their father to get their way.
The witch turned and pulled a gigantic book off the shelf; a fat Bible with gilt pages. She dropped the book on the table, WHUMP, then reached out and pulled a pack of cigarettes from behind the other books. A hidden stash.
Everallin lit and smoked. The air smoldered with tobacco and cloves.
“Usually, I only answer one question,” the oracle said. “Just one, no more, no matter what. For you, Lilith, I’ll answer three.”
“Why make an exception for me?”
“Because I’m going to ask you a favor, and I want you to say yes.” Everallin exhaled. “You won’t like it. You won’t want to cooperate. But you will oblige me in the end, and I want you to be content with the bargain.”
“Another satisfied customer,” Lilith mumbled. “Good for adverts.”
“Or maybe I don’t want you coming back to kill everyone.” Everallin winked. “Including me.”
“Fair enough.”
Before coming, Lilith thought she knew what question she’d ask. It had seemed obvious. But now that she was given three questions and they weren’t free—the witch wanted something in exchange—Lilith stumbled over her thoughts. The interview had become a monstrous test with a hundred possible scenarios and a thousand ways to go wrong.
Everallin (who probably knew every tumultuous thought in Lilith’s head) smoked impatiently. The smoke curled upward peevishly, as if saying Time is of the essence.
Lilith asked, “What is the Sacred Honor of the Most Profane?”
“Haniel took something from heaven,” Everallin said.
Lilith’s hands curled into fists. “That bastard lied to me. He’s been holding back all along.”
“No. He simply can’t give it to you yet—he doesn’t even realize he still has it. He won’t know until you find Maggie. And furthermore, how could he deceive you when you don’t even know what you need? Give him what you promised, and he’ll give you what you want.”
Lilith sighed. Everything would be okay if she fulfilled her end of the bargain. That meant she really did need to rescue Maggie.
Goddammit.
She wanted to ask if Maggie still lived, but that wouldn’t help. Knowing Maggie's condition was useless if she couldn’t find the girl. Lilith needed to locate the monster first.
Lilith slunk down in the chair. “Where is the humbaba?”
“You’ll find him at Fort Independence in Castle Park.”
And then one question remained.
Did she dare ask what Lane’s death meant? Or if he’d predicted the turn of events, if he’d wanted to die? Maybe she should ask if the angels were close by, or how many had come for her. When they’d catch her.
If she stood a chance at all.
The question that tumbled out of her mouth, however, had nothing to do with any of that business.
“The Corporal plans to kill my daughter, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.”
After that, Lilith sat quietly, staring at her hands.
Nhang was in danger. Serious danger, not like the time when she’d tiptoed to the highest peak and stayed too long counting stars, and Lilith had to rescue her before the sun came.
She would have lived through that, Lilith assured herself, although years ago it hadn’t seemed that way, not with Nhang’s eyes bleeding from the stabbing light of dawn.
Now, an oracle of Destiny declared Nhang would be murdered.
“Soon?” Lilith asked.
The witch didn’t say a word, didn’t blink, and gave no indication of having heard.
I’ve already used my three questions.
Lilith remembered the look on the Corporal’s face, the spite, the razor-sharp focus, his knuckles shaking like a rattlesnake’s tail.
That sort of hate didn’t disappear.
Soon. He’ll act soon.
Lilith would be off battling exotic dragons and warring with angels, and her daughter would die at the hands of those whom she considered friends. Family, even.
Serves her right.
Lilith folded her arms across her chest.
I told her what the world was like, but she didn’t listen. Too busy dreaming. Too busy counting stars.
Her pulse started to twitch, and she rubbed her face.
It’s not any business of mine.
“What do you want of me?”
Lilith asked. “What’s the favor?”
The fortuneteller lit a new cigarette and stared through the smoke. Her eyes swam with grim secrets, like mist building into storm clouds.
“The spell will work,” Everallin said.
Lilith’s heart soared, but then she remembered the witch’s words: she said I wouldn’t like it. “So what’s the problem?”
Everallin sat in the chair behind the desk and rested her elbows on the dark, polished wood. She looked like a schoolmaster reprimanding a student who wouldn’t stop whispering in class.
“Against all odds, you’ll be successful. Trust me, this surprises everyone, even me. I mean, you’re making an embarrassingly simple miscalculation—when you figure it out, you’ll laugh—but when the time comes, everything will fall into place.”
A grin overtook Lilith’s face.
“The greatest weapon of heaven will be unsheathed on earth,” Everallin said, “but not by you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You aren’t the one destined to perform the ritual, nor are you the one meant to reap its benefits. It’s time for you to stop the shenanigans.”
“Says who?”
“Destiny.”
Lilith frowned. “You mean Fate, don’t you? Those greedy bitches think they can tell me what to do.”
“It’s not your place, Lilith. It never was, never will be.”
She clutched the talisman between her breasts. “I labored for forty years to find this amulet.”
“A blink of time to one such as yourself.”
“That’s not the issue. I need this. Need it.”
“I know. I understand,” Everallin whispered. “Now it’s time for you to understand. This power is too much. It isn’t yours. It’ll destroy you.”
“I should kill you…”
Everallin sat back and flicked ash from her cigarette.
“Who then?” Lilith cocked her head. “Who is destined for the amulet?”
The oracle didn’t say anything.
“Is it one of the Fates? They want it for themselves, don’t they? They fed you a silly prophecy, a lie, to frighten me. They want me to give up and abandon the treasure so they can have it. It’s all a lie.”
Everallin shook her head.
Lilith clenched her teeth and considered the problem. “I want to talk to Fate. Get them here. I want to know what they’re up to.”
“Why would they bother with you?” Everallin asked, not harshly, but matter-of-fact. “Two of the Fates are busy trying to keep the kingdom glued together.”
“Yes, trouble in the ranks,” Lilith murmured. The three sisters had been at each other’s throats—and they pushed Lane into fire. How could that be good for anyone? How was that supposed to help the Exalted?
To hell with them.
Lilith wasn’t going to help Fate. Hell, she had half a mind to smash the amulet so they’d never get their hands on it.
They expected her to give up?
“If you know how far I’ve come—and the lengths I’d go to—why do you think I’ll listen?” Lilith asked, “Why would I change course for you?”
Everallin stubbed her cigarette out on her heel. “At first, I thought I’d threaten you with the magnitude of Destiny, maybe intimidate you with Fate’s authority, but they mean nothing to you. Hell, you’re spiteful enough to sabotage them just to rub their noses in your misfortune.
“Then I thought I could sway you with your daughter’s doom. If I revealed her crushing and bloody end, maybe you’d abandon your mission and run to her rescue. But clearly, you don’t care about your daughter’s life, either.”
Laughing, Lilith tossed up her hands. “If you know all that, how do you expect to change my mind?”
“By offering certainty instead of risk.” Everallin poured two glasses of wine, which looked pink and smelled like vinegar. “What you hope to accomplish is nearly impossible. Unlocking the amulet is one thing. Mastering its legacy is beyond your ability. You’re trying to fight heaven with God’s power. It’s a gamble, and the house always wins.”
Lilith crossed her arms, but the witch wasn’t done.
“Think of everything that could go wrong. Haniel might not give you the key. He might revolt for Maggie’s sake or give up on her when he realizes his humanity will be forfeit—and it will. He’s escaped hell thus far, do you really think he’d endure eternal torment for her?
“Then you still have to perform the ritual. Have you ever cast a spell before? There’s a million ways to blunder one! The spell was translated from Hebrew to Latin, but not by you. Are you sure it’s accurate? Did they remember the imperative tense? A single bumbled verse could ruin everything.
“And that’s after you defeat an angry humbaba—did you know they have seven hearts? Seven? That’s excessive if you ask me. Plus, you’re counting on manpower you won’t have to fight with you. Although I use the term ‘manpower’ quite loosely.
“Even if you’re victorious, you’ll have to learn how to wield the amulet’s power before angels catch you. Trust me, those winged jerks are right on your tail. There’s literally not a second to spare. One minor misstep and you’re dead. Again. Forever, this time.”
Everallin sipped her wine. Lilith gulped hers.
“If you abandon the amulet, I’ll help you escape.” Everallin pulled open a desk drawer and withdrew a stack of cash. “If you leave right now, you can be halfway to Dublin before heaven realizes you’ve fled the lower forty-eight.”
“Dublin?” Lilith asked, voice weak. Hollow.
Has all this been for nothing?
Everallin lit a new cigarette. “If you leave here and immediately get on the train, Dublin is the first flight leaving the airport in New York. From there, you can go anywhere.”
“And Haniel?”
“Take him or leave him, no one cares.”
Lilith squinted. “Won’t Fate need him? He’s the key.”
“He’s a key.” Everallin shrugged. “One of three. There will be a new one in one-hundred-and-forty-four years, when the spell is truly meant to be performed.”
“I’ll have you know—”
“You don’t understand the spell, Lilith. You’re looking for the key in the wrong place, Lilith.” Everallin snipped, “Run, Lilith.”
The fortuneteller said her name three times, as if trying to emphasize the importance of her instructions, or as if to cast out a demon.
Lilith’s muddled brain sloshed through the options.
Running. Hiding. For how long? Everallin didn’t say, which means heaven will catch me eventually.
Lilith bent her head and rested her face in her palms.
What if Everallin wasn’t an oracle? Maybe she was a fraud, a skilled manipulator who only pretended to know the future. Lilith thought about it and decided Everallin hadn’t said anything remarkable. And Lilith had fed her information about her daughter’s potential doom. All Everallin had to do was play on those fears.
Or maybe the oracle was right.
Destiny, Fate, and Everallin thought Lilith would ruin this, ruin everything, somehow. Something, everything, would go wrong. And then what? She’d have nothing, no hope and no head-start.
I should say yes and run, she thought, but—
“Forty years,” she lamented.
“If you want to live for forty more,” Everallin said, “listen to me.”
“But when—”
“—No.”
“Why—”
“Shhh.”
Lilith gave up. “Fuck you.”
Everallin laughed. “Would you be surprised to hear that you aren’t the first customer to say that?”
“Not at all.”
Lilith stood. Her knees felt hard and cold, her limbs alien. She couldn't feel or hear her heart. She was all but stone, a dumb stone tossed down a hill of destiny and chaos, caught up in a momentum that had nothing to do with her. Gravity, entropy, death.
Everallin reached into another drawer and retrieved a ri
ng. It had a big, asymmetrical pearl framed in tarnished silver. She pushed it toward Lilith.
“Hera said you dropped this.”
Lilith took the ring. Even though Everallin had pulled it from a cold desk drawer, the metal held heat as if it'd been worn recently. Lilith had a snap of an impression, the idea that Everallin—or someone—had torn it from its owner’s hand seconds before she walked in the door.
She examined the ring and said, “It’s not mine.”
“Hera says it is,” Everallin insisted. “And we don’t argue with the sisters of Fate, do we?”
The ring didn't fit. Lilith played along and tried it on all of her fingers before finally leaving it on her thumb. Meanwhile, she imagined the whole planet had been thrust underwater, held down below the surface, suffocating. Hope faded from her breast. Blood slowed in her veins.
The pearl gleamed.
She had the sense that she'd walked into a room to get something but had forgotten what. She needed to leave, to run, before she lost the chance.
“I understand the pearl has been harvested from a whale fall,” the witch said, adding a spot of trivia as she drank the remainder of her wine.
Lilith imagined the giant beast, a whale, a leviathan of fairytales and mystery, leaving its gargantuan boneyard on the ocean floor, and oysters moving in, perpetuating the cycle of life…
“Leave the amulet outside the door,” Everallin said. “My familiar will take it to when it needs to be. Wait outside while I talk to Haniel. He won’t be long; he doesn’t ask the right question.”
Lilith turned and left the office, walking into the dome of the chapel, wading through a vagabond crowd of humanity. Her veins had never felt so cacophonous, her heart so dull.
It was over.
We don’t argue with Fate, do we?
Chapter 21
Lilith stared at the sky outside the chapel. Dark night had faded into charcoal, touched with purple on the horizon and the promise of sun. The pearl on her ring—on Fate’s ring—gleamed like old bone. Dull, lingering moonlight shone on the silver, and the smoky glint reminded her of the reflective lining inside Nhang's eyes.
Lilith's Amulet Page 17