by Bella Klaus
The door swung open, letting out the scent of lavender. I stepped into a room that looked more like an office than a bedroom, with a counter that took up its entire left side above which was a wall scrawled with all manner of ancient symbols. Hundreds of images hung among the symbols, some Polaroids, others computer printouts, and others pen-and-ink drawings. Each of them depicted babies.
Bassinets lay on top of the counter, making a shudder run down my spine. I tried not to think that I might have once lain in one of those cradles or that my infant picture might grace that creepy display.
I glanced to the right, where a sofa sat in the corner, laden with overstuffed cushions and deep enough to fit two if they snuggled close. Woolen blankets lay folded at the base, indicating that this was either her bedroom or a place where she had slept while taking care of all the babies that had been birthed in service to her master.
My fingers trembled with the urge to release Hades’ ashes before the woman tracked down Kresnik and returned with him. “Where is it?”
“Bathroom,” Hades said. “There’s a door to the right.”
Without a word, I hurried across the room and into Healer Calla’s bath chamber, which was a little larger than the wet room of my studio apartment and contained an oversized barrel filled with steaming water. A bucket floated on its surface, but there was no sign of a cabinet.
“Where?” I asked.
“Look behind you.”
I whirled around, only to find the door. “Where?”
“Up.”
A glass jar of ashes balanced between a massive hairbrush and a soap dispenser atop the thickest doorframe in existence. I scratched my head and frowned. There was no time to wonder why she kept her bathroom paraphernalia so far away from the bath. People with the power of telekinesis seemed to live by different rules.
It was beyond my reach, and I doubted that poking it with a long stick would do anything but make the other items tumble to the tiled floor. The point was moot, considering I had no such stick.
My fingernails dug into my scalp, trying to increase the blood flow enough to generate an idea to get it down. Walking around in a circle and taking in my surroundings often helped in situations like this. As I turned, my gaze landed on the wooden stool by the bath barrel, which could double as a bootleg stepladder.
I sprinted over to the bath barrel, moved the stool to the doorframe, and stepped on its seat. Even stretching on my tiptoes, my middle finger barely grazed the jar’s glass.
“It’s too high,” I whispered. “You’re going to have to help me.”
“With which body?” he snarled into my ear.
“You can make your ashes float, can’t you?” I snapped. “Concentrate all your Demon King power behind the jar and push.”
Jagged magic prickled across my skin, making me clench my teeth. “Use that power on the jar, not me!”
“Very well.” Hades’ ashes settled into a small pile, which unsettled as he rose toward me as an invisible ball of static electricity. All the fine hairs on my body stood on end the way they might if a human was being followed by a ghost. I gulped. This was only two jars’ worth of the disembodied Demon King. How terrible would his power become after I’d united the rest?
The jar shifted forward with jerky movements, teetering dangerously on the ledge. I raised both arms and curled my fingers, encouraging him to keep going. After five minutes of straining, I flattened my hands into a landing pad in case he pushed the item too hard.
“A little bit more,” I whispered.
“Easy for you to say.” His voice strained with the effort.
I bit down on my lip, willing him to push harder. Hades was probably trying his best, and I didn’t want him to get disheartened by pointing out that he wasn’t yet powerful enough to move a jar. He’d only just stopped the annoying sexual harassment, and I wasn’t in the mood for him to retaliate.
“Are you also keeping a watch on the door?” I asked. “If Healer Calla returns with Kresnik—”
“I am now.” His magic hesitated.
Even more minutes passed, and my pulse boomed against my eardrums like the fists of an ogre. Hades moved the jar millimeter by millimeter until enough of it hovered over the ledge for me to hook a finger beneath it and let the item drop into my palm.
Not bothering to step off the stool, I placed a Dharma salt-encrusted hand on the lid and unscrewed it, letting the ashes fall to the ground. My fingers trembled as I tried not to mess this up and drop the jar. Hades probably wouldn’t deign to sweep Healer Calla’s bathroom floor with his magic.
After filling it halfway with a handful of wood ash, I replaced the lid, and balanced the item on my palm. “Time to put it back.”
His magic crackled with indignation, feeling like the lash of dozens of tiny whips.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Big bad Demon Kings don’t go sneaking about like little mice. But unless you want that old woman to notice the jar her master entrusted to her is not in its rightful place and raise the alarm, you’d better help me replace that jar.”
“Right.” Another ball of magic crackled at my side, this one much more intense than his previous attempt.
My scalp tingled, my hair follicles tightened, and my ears filled with the snap and fizzle of his power. I raised the jar as high as I could hold it, and the newly strengthened demon cloud pushed it the rest of the way.
“Well done,” he said. “Now get down and play nursemaid to your mother.”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. I jumped down from the stool, carried it over to the barrel, and rushed to the bathroom door. “Are they close?”
“No,” he replied.
“Is anyone waiting in the infirmary where they can see me exit her private chamber?”
Hades hesitated.
My breath caught. “What does that mean?”
“They’ve just left.”
I glanced over my shoulder to find all traces of ashes gone. Hades must have spread them out across the floor to make himself unnoticeable. With a nod of approval, I whispered, “Check the hallway.”
“Don’t give me orders,” he snarled.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. A long sigh heaved from my lungs. Some men were so bloody insecure. “We’re working as a team right now, against a fallen god and hundreds of enemies. You need me to help free your body, and I need you to help me restore Valentine and defeat Kresnik.”
He didn’t answer except to bristle.
Ignoring him, I continued, “Sometimes, you’re going to ask me to do something, and other times, I’ll ask you. We’re in a hurry right now, so excuse me if I don’t mind my P’s and Q’s in front of demon royalty, but I really need you to look at the hallway so I don’t get caught by Kresnik. You know, so he doesn’t confiscate the jars and drop them in the ocean?”
He didn’t reply for several moments, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek, holding back a rant. Two weeks ago, he was sentencing me to death, followed by an eternity in Hell. Days later, he had me trapped in the Supernatural Council, wanting to crack me open to keep my fiery soul as a pet. I got that following my instructions was a step down but he needed to understand that he wasn’t a king right now—just a floating pile of ash.
“Since you asked so nicely, nobody in the corridor is giving me cause to believe they’re approaching the infirmary,” he said with a sniff.
I let his haughty tone drift over me like an accidental fart and stepped out of the bathroom. After jogging across Healer Calla’s bedroom, I eased myself into the infirmary’s reception area and dusted myself off. That had gone a lot smoother than I’d anticipated, but my fingers still trembled, and my heart still thrashed against my ribcage.
“Look lively,” Hades said. “The old woman is coming back.”
“With him?” I asked.
“Alone.”
I strode into Aurora’s room, where the steam had cleared. She still lay on her front, with Dharma salt piled on her back. It was now a sickly
yellow, bordering on orange, having absorbed the heat of her wounds. Some of the tension around my chest loosened, and I exhaled my relief. Maybe she might be able to rest.
My gaze dropped to the jug. The sweet tea I had made was gone, leaving half the ice. I rushed to the jug of warmer tea to replenish her drink.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. Tears shone in her eyes, making my chest tighten. “The pain is just about bearable.”
“That’s wonderful news,” I murmured. “I’m so glad it’s working.”
“Is this something you learned from Arianna?” she asked.
I picked up the tea and stirred the mix with a wooden spoon, letting the honey rise to the surface. This was the first time Aurora had shown an interest in my life besides the development of my power.
“Aunt Arianna showed me the basics, but I trained under a Master of Crystals, who taught me herbal medicine.”
Aurora exhaled a long sigh. “Thank your master on my behalf. She did a wonderful job.”
My throat thickened. I wanted to tell Aurora she could travel down to Mayfair herself and visit Istabelle. Istabelle probably knew a better way to remove the heat simmering under Aurora’s skin, but something in the tone of the woman’s voice said she wasn’t expecting to ever leave the Flame.
I poured the rest of the tea mixture into the jug of ice and pushed the straw toward Aurora, so she could drink.
The door opened behind us, and soft footsteps shuffled inside. There wasn’t any point in turning around, seeing as Hades had already warned me about who was coming.
Healer Calla cleared her throat. “Our Lord would like you both in attendance for this evening’s meeting in ritual room one.”
I nodded and turned back to Aurora, who had stopped drinking. With a hand on her shoulder, I gave her a gentle pat, encouraging her to continue.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the outline of Healer Calla hovering around the door. She clasped her hands together, standing there like a wraith and not speaking until I glanced over my shoulder and forced a smile.
“Thank you.” I met her gaze, trying not to cringe as the woman leaned forward with her lips parted. Right now, I didn’t care to interpret the expression. I just wanted her gone. “Was there anything else?”
She smiled back. “Nothing at all.”
I continued gazing at the woman until she retreated out of the room and closed the door with a soft click.
“She’s jealous,” Aurora rasped.
I turned to meet her half-lidded eyes. “Of what?”
“Healer Calla believes every child born in the Flame belongs to her, even though no one has heard of her ever having given birth.”
I brought a small trash can over to the side of the bed, lifted off the gauze, and tossed away the tainted Dharma salt. All traces of redness across her back had gone, leaving behind thick whitened scabs. I had little experience with severe burns, let alone those inflicted by fire whips, but it looked like she was healing.
After applying another layer of my burn salve, more gauze, and the rest of the Dharma salt, Hades’ power crackled across my hand, indicating that it was time to leave.
“I didn’t have any breakfast this morning, so I’m going to see if there’s anything in the refectory…”
“Don’t leave,” she said.
My brows drew together. “What’s wrong?”
“I know how to restore your power.”
A breath caught in the back of my throat. Had Kresnik confided in her about his waning phoenix flames, had she guessed I was already taking my magic back, or none of the above?
My tongue darted out to lick my lips. Just because Kresnik had whipped her, that didn’t mean she had turned against him. I didn’t need Hades whispering a warning in my ear to know I had to exercise caution. People in this community had an inexplicable amount of loyalty to that tyrant, even in the face of his most horrific abuse of their young people.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
She beckoned me closer, keeping it up until my ear was level with her mouth. “When you transformed, the firestone that encased your heart dropped to the floor of the ritual room. I picked it up and slipped it into the pocket of my dress.”
I hadn’t given the firestone any thought since Kresnik had stolen my power. “How—”
“Remember what I told you about items sinking into the skin of fire users like you?”
I chewed on my bottom lip. Aurora had mentioned in the hallway that Gail used to have the same problem until she had learned to control her magic. It had sounded like a dig at the time because Aurora hadn’t offered to teach me how to stop my flesh from absorbing items.
“You still have the phoenix feather from Father Jude?” she whispered.
“Yes.” I showed her the tattoo on the palm of my hand.
She nodded. “Good. Go to my room and take the stone from under my pillow. If you draw upon its magic and concentrate, every ounce of your power that it absorbed will return to you.”
“Is that a lot?”
“Enough to power your transformation and fly you out of the wards.”
“Don’t do it,” Hades whispered.
My throat dried. Of course he would dissuade me—he needed me to free his jars, not fly off into the sunset. There was no reason I couldn’t do both.
“Why did you keep the firestone if it was full of power?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “A keepsake of what I never got to have for myself. We spent so long trying to perfect your soul and bring you to life, and it took such a toll on my body that Father Jude forbade me from having any other children of my own.”
My heart sank. Aurora had hinted that she had sacrificed a lot to bring me into being, but I’d been too angry with her to ask for details. “Thank you for telling me. When I get the magic, I’ll come back for you—”
“No.” She squeezed my hand. “If I flicker in this condition, there’s no telling what it will do.”
I glanced at the Dharma salt on her back. It had already absorbed a lot of the heat and was turning a pale yellow. With enough applications of the substance, we might get Aurora’s burning flesh under control. I kept this information to myself, waiting to see how the treatment went.
“Where do I find your room?” I asked.
“It’s next to yours.”
A wave of surprise swept through my insides, making me hold on to the edge of the treatment table. I lowered myself into the seat at her bedside and caught my breath. Everything Aurora had said indicated that she wanted to stay close to me.
My throat thickened. “You said Kresnik punished you for failing to get something from the realm of the gods. What was it?”
“A specific eagle,” she replied, her voice bitter. “Father Jude has been searching for it since before I was born, yet Kresnik chose to vent his frustrations on me.”
I squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Miss Griffin,” Hades whispered into my ear. “A team has arrived from the Supernatural Council with a bracelet devoid of phoenix flames. If you want to know about the eagle, I will tell you all about it, but we must leave, now.”
Aurora closed her eyes, and I checked on her dressings. The salt remained pale, indicating that it could extract no more heat. After I murmured goodbye, I rose from the seat and headed out of the room.
Healer Calla was no longer in the reception area, so I continued to the refectory and grabbed a chicken, mayonnaise, and sweetcorn sandwich still with the Marks and Spencer labels. I slipped a raisin and biscuit Yorkie and bottle of apple juice into my pocket before following Hades’ directions to the grounds.
Outside, only the barest misting of clouds hung low within a sky the shade of lapis lazuli, and the setting sun colored the horizon a glorious haze of scarlet. The cool wind swirled around my hair, blowing red strands into my face.
The pyre continued to burn on the lawn beyond the trees and with only a pair of men stoking the flames
with long branches. Hades directed me to a section of the gardens containing gigantic fennel plants with umbrella-shaped clusters of tiny yellow flowers.
“Why would anyone put your ashes in there?” I asked.
“That’s the plant he used to siphon fire from the phoenixes and inject it into humans,” Hades replied. “I expect it has sentimental value.”
My brows rose. I was pretty sure that in the stories, Prometheus stole the fire from the forge of a blacksmith, but Beatrice once mentioned that the internet contained fake news. I couldn’t trust everything I read on the internet.
As I approached the fennel, licorice filled my nostrils, and magic pulsed against my skin, making my steps slow. Pausing ten feet away from the shrub, I crouched low and peered at something moving about within its dense foliage.
“Hades,” I whispered. “Do you know what’s causing—”
Something small and furry shot out of the bushes and jumped into my arms. I fell onto my ass, wrapping my arms around the warm little package.
“What is that?” he hissed.
I stroked Macavity’s back, brushing the dried leaves and fennel seeds from his fur. “What were you doing under there?”
He purred and batted my neck with his warm head.
“Valentine said you were out hunting…” My arms closed around his small body.
“Does that hellcat belong to you?” Hades asked.
“Macavity’s attached to the Royal House of Sargon,” I said, not wanting to confide in Hades that the cat had returned from Hell to take care of the children I would have with Valentine. That was none of his business.
“Order him to fetch the jar,” he said. “It’s half-buried within its base.”
I rubbed the spot of fur between his pointed ears. “Macavity isn’t a servant.”
“Then you crawl on your belly beneath the fennel leaves and get it out,” he said with a sneer.
I narrowed my eyes. Hades hadn’t been this testy while we were retrieving the jar from Kresnik’s room. Had my mother-daughter bonding session triggered him? If he was really the Greek god, his father would have been Cronos, who had swallowed him after he was born. A shudder ran down my spine. Compared to a childhood like that, being left on Aunt Arianna’s doorstep didn’t sound quite so bad.