by A. K. Koonce
And then…
Me.
Six
Izara
The first thing that hits me is the cold. A frigid blast of wind and ice that smacks against my face painfully and has me falling into a heap of soft snow.
What the fuck.
My teeth chatter and my wings tuck in against the bite of surrounding air. White flakes cling to my eyelashes and I blink it away to look at my surroundings. Perpetual darkness fills the sky and white ice and snow span out across the barren land.
It’s hell… but cold.
I get up and rub my hands across my arms to warm my body. If I walk through this barefoot, I’ll surely die of hypothermia.
I start with a step then two, ducking my face against the wind. When I look up again, I startle to find the sudden appearance of a lone figure standing before me.
It’s a demon. A female demon with ice for skin and dripping, black teeth. “Izara Castillo, Princess of Hell, half-breed demon spawn?” Her voice sounds like whistling wind.
Between chatters, I nod. What a fucking introduction. It makes me feel like English royalty.
The demon inclines her head, tossing thick boots to the ground between us. “The mistress of the fifth circle of hell will see you now.”
The demon takes me through mountains of snow. Frigid wind slaps my face and cold white flakes freeze my eyelashes to the tops of my cheeks.
I'm both numb and in immense pain at the same time. My teeth have long since stopped chattering, but I feel this deadly cold even down to the roots of my gums.
We walk for miles it seems like until her voice whistles from in front of me. "We're here."
Here turns out to be a stone cave, all along the edge of it sits icicles with sharp tips that make it look like the wide open mouth of a rocky creature.
I almost don't step through, but I catch the warm glow of flicking yellow light within and pick up the pace. The promise of warmth is what gets me to move faster.
The cave is dark, and if emptiness has a smell, well this is it. It isn't until we step deeper into it that I feel the first sear of heat, thawing my cold bones.
The crackling fire smells like sulfur, but I don't care as I drop to my knees beside it and hold out my hands. I kick off the wet boots and the heat of the fire is painful in my numbing toes. Shivers rack through my body and it takes about half an hour for me to warm completely. And in all that time, no one says a thing.
I look up and the demon who brought me here has all but disappeared.
Okay. That’s not weird at all.
I stand up on shaking legs, my wings finally regaining movement, spreading out at my back. I’m on high alert now.
If the fifth circle of hell is as similar as the sixth, I need to be prepared.
Soft footfalls echo through the cavern. I turn towards the sound, preparing my wings, my magic for an attack that never comes.
The first thing I notice about this demon is that her skin is completely blue, like she's made up entirely of ice. And on her bald head, icicles align in a circle in the form of a crown. Around her shoulders, she carries the furry carcass of some... thing.
She comes closer to the fire and unceremoniously drops the bloody body to the ground and it makes a sick, wet, crunching sound.
"Welcome to the fifth circle of hell." Her voice is the soft drift of snowfall. "My name is Onibaba, the Queen of this dimension, and I will be your guide."
I feel like I've been dropped in the middle of a fucking tour bus and she's my eat shit smiling guide. I can't tell if this is funny or just really weird.
Definitely both.
“Um, hi… I’m Izara… Izara Castillo…”
She pulls a blade of ice out of a holster on her waist. I eye it warily. “Oh, I know who you are. You are the Princess of Hell and all its domains.” She bends down and stabs her knife through the already dead creature and begins skinning it.
Um.
Okay.
“What do you mean all its domains?” I wrap my arms around myself.
Her red eyes lock on to mine for a brief moment, and the expression in them is so hard to read. “It means you are one of the supreme rulers of hell, of course.” She continues slicing in quick movements until the hide is off and dripping blood. She waves a hand over it and murmurs a few words in demonic language, followed by the stench of sulfur. When she stands to her full height, she lifts the fur with her. It is now clear of blood and looks magically sewn together into a snowsuit. She holds it out. “For you.”
I know this is some type of test she’s giving me, and I don’t even care about the poor creature she gutted to give this to me, I take it anyway, slipping it over my shoulders. The slits up the back fall perfectly around my wings and the tattered remnants of my dress. The warmth of it envelops my entire body and I smile gratefully.
“Have a seat, Princess.” Onibaba gestures at the ground and only sits down once I do. We stare at each other for a long time. Finally, she takes a breath. “Hell is composed of seven circles. Each circle, or domain, is ruled by a king or queen. But there are few entities who have supreme rule over every domain. Lucian Morningstar, the Messenger of Chaos, and now you.”
My palms tick with anxiety. I did not sign up for that. I lean forward, closing my nails into my palms to avoid shaking. “Why me?”
The question seems to catch her off guard. She blinks, once, twice. “Because you are the only living daughter of—”
I make an exasperated noise in the back of my throat, cutting her off. “I thought I was a descendent of a descendent. Not his actual daughter.” I mean, it had always been a possibility. The fact that the Messenger kidnapped me and called me ‘daughter’ only confirmed it.
“Of course you are his daughter. Why do you think you have such unfathomable power within you?”
The words ‘Princess of Hell’ rings loudly in my ears. It’s why my Prod is so destructive, why she feels so at home in hell’s dimensions. Is that also why I have such control of her here? Because it’s… home? Because here she doesn’t need to hide?
Nothing makes sense.
“Doesn’t he have any other kids he can throw that title to?” I ask.
Her red eyes grow sad with ancient memories and a cold fury. “They are all dead.” She leans forward in a move that looks desperate, urgent. “You are the last.”
I don’t want to be the last. I don’t want to be his anything. I just want to get back to the Academy. To my boyfriends. To my life.
She must read my thoughts plainly in my eyes. “You wish to go back.” It isn’t a question, so I don’t need to answer. “Because you are my Princess, I will give you the answers you seek, even though I wish you to stay.”
Wariness creeps through my veins. Why is she helping me? Demons are evil by nature, and mischievous, too. She won’t help me in exchange for nothing.
My eyes narrow. “What do you want in exchange?”
Her smile flashes and its as blinding as it is terrifying and shows off all her needle sharp teeth I hadn’t noticed before.
“A debt,” she replies. “To be called on at a later time.”
A slow sinking feeling weighs down my stomach. I learned at the Academy that demons are tricky fuckers. They’re like faeries, all about destruction and contracts.
“Are you going to ask me for my firstborn?”
She laughs out a malicious sound and shakes her head. “You want specifics? Okay, Princess. If I help you, there will come a time when I will need the help of the Princess of Hell. When that time comes, I will call on you. Not for your firstborn, or anything of the physical world. You will sacrifice no life, yours or anyone else’s in the exchange. A mere favor. Tit for tat. Quid quo pro. Isn’t that what the fecks are saying?”
I could say no. I want to say no. The word is on the tip of my tongue.
As if she senses this, she goes on, “To prove my loyalty to you I will give you a gift.” She waves her hand and the smell of sulfur assaults my nostrils and a
glowing, dark doorway appears behind her. “You have not grown into your full powers yet, so you cannot leave hell at your leisure. To make it back to your world, you must cross the seven circles and pass the tests of each domain. I can give you direct access to the second circle. Skips through the tediousness of circles four and three."
My eyes are glued to the portal. A direct jump to circle two. Then one… then… my world…
“Tests?” I ask, eyebrows furrowing.
“You cannot pass through portals or between worlds unless the king or queen of the domain allows you to do so. I suppose you could, as you are the Princess of Hell, but to learn in your weakened state could take decades.”
I don’t have decades. Time flows differently in hell. I wonder how many days have passed. I wonder if they’re looking for me, or if they’ve chalked me up as dead.
I want to learn this control. I want to learn how to jump between dimensions. Because if I learned anything from my encounter with the Messenger and Osmodeus, it’s that I won’t stop being hunted by my father. And if he brings me back again… he might not let me escape quite so easily a second time.
I bite my bottom lip as I mull it over. Within me, something stirs. A small caress that comes from deep inside my soul. Like fingers gliding down my nerve endings. It’s the quiet caress of my Prod, and I hear the whispering of her voice in my ear. It’s low and seductive, entrancing, and she’s mingling in with me.
You are one and the same. Malek always says that to me. I’ve always thought of my Prod as someone separate, as someone who just reigns destructively inside me. At the Academy we tend to speak about our Prods that way, but right now, right here, I feel her somehow merging with me. Like this infinite well of power is slipping between the cracks and threading itself into every strand of my DNA, my blood, my being. I embraced her, and now she’s embracing back.
I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I feel… I feel powerful. Different.
Those red eyes of the demon train themselves on me maliciously, knowingly. “You feel the power of hell in your veins, don’t you?” She smiles, and again, I get a flash of those pointy teeth. “Is it everything you ever imagined?” Her whole body thrums with longing as she leans towards me. “It’s the song of hell. This is your home, power calling to power, and so yours is awakening.” She leans back and strokes her chin with icy hands. “Perhaps you are not so weak after all.”
“How do I get home?” I ask, though her words ring inside me, reverberating through my body. I don’t want them to be true, but what had taken me months to learn at the Academy, I’ve mastered here within hours. Flying, incinerating. I no longer feel the dormant monster inside of me. Now, I am the monster.
And I want to deny how good it feels, but I can’t.
I don’t feel powerless anymore. Not when I’ve taken down demons and made it to the fifth circle of hell on my own.
“What do you say, Princess?” The portal beyond the demon gleams.
I stare at it, picturing the power inside me like a living, breathing thing. My Prod sighs within me, molding against my soul, embracing me and I give in to her once again. I take in pieces of her because she is a part of me. I let loose the power, my eyes wide open as I picture it. I let my magic form the image of the Academy.
Of my home.
It swirls around me, the singe of fire and my magic, and the air beside the portal of the second circle of hell shimmers. It warps into something different, of shadows and light forming a single, spectacular image.
The towering gray buildings of the Academy of Six.
The demon raises her eyebrows and turns, her mouth dropping as she sees what I’ve done.
Slowly I stand, a smile of triumph on my face. “Thank you for your kind offer,” I tell her. “But I think decades was just cut down to seconds.”
She jumps to her feet. “No!” she snarls. “No!”
I ignore her and step towards the portal of my own making. My wings fan out behind me. Powerful, destructive. It’s what I am, but I am also so much more.
I reach the edge of the portal.
That’s when the demon grabs me.
Her touch sears through the fur of the suit she gifted me and burns straight down to my skin. It feels like frostbite, like the burn of ice cold, and I cry out as she yanks me away from my portal.
“You’re not leaving without a deal!” Her entire voice warps. No longer is it the soft, gentle fall of snow, but something vicious and guttural. She rises and her body seems to grow. The crackling sound of breaking ice fills the cavern as she grows at least three feet taller and towers over me.
My wings flare, too late, she’s yanking on me and throwing me across the cavern. I fly back with the force of her strength, my wings trying to steady myself, but I crash painfully against the wall.
The rock abrades the sensitive skin of my wings and I feel them tear as I slide down. Blood pools from my wounds. I stretch them out, but all I feel is the zinging slice of agony down my muscles.
“Make a deal with me!” she roars, stalking towards me on taloned feet.
I brace myself, even as my back screams in pain. My hands spread wide and magic springs to my hands, a glow of green fire that consumes my palms.
“Get out of my fucking way.” I side-step, slowly easing my way towards my shimmering portal.
“You don’t need to go back there. Stay. Make a deal with me. Rule over hell like you’re meant to do…”
“The only thing I want is to go home, bitch.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
I frown, rage rising like burning kernels in my chest. “I’ve killed one ruler of hell. I don’t mind killing another…” And I shoot my magic at her.
The flames fly, hitting her square in the chest. She screeches as her body catches fire and she desperately tries to put it out. I don’t waste time. I lunge for the portal. Each step is a painful protest but I run towards it.
A step away from my freedom, pain blinds me entirely as claws sink through the thin membrane of my wings. Tears spring to my eyes, and the agony… oh god… I close my eyes against the sensation but it’s prominent against my skin.
The claws sink in, tearing straight through the flap. My magic tries to retaliate, but the power inside me wanes completely at the onslaught against my body.
I’m yanked away from the portal by my wings and slammed straight onto the cavern floor. The breath shoots from my lungs in a painful exhale. I try to breathe, but it’s too much.
The demon looms over me, her hands now enormous claws that curl above me. Threatening. Deadly.
“You’re not going anywhere anymore, Princess,” she mocks.
I am power. I am my Prod. I am stronger than this.
The mantras don’t work. My body feels weaker by the second. My wings bleed out beneath me, and it’s excruciating.
“I’ll flay the skin from your bones…”
“No,” I rasp, “you fucking won’t.”
I find the last kernels of power within myself and blast.
Fire consumes the demon, and she shrieks her rage and pain as she’s thrown away from me, towards the floor in front of both portals.
I jump up and run as the fire licks over her body and threatens to eat her alive. I make my way to the portal, which is shimmering, fading. No! I have to go back, I can’t let it disappear!
My fingers graze the surface of it and I start to push my way through…
A hand closes around my ankle, the pain biting. I’m whirled in a circle, and my eyes slam closed as I wait for the impact of pain that never comes.
I’m suddenly swallowed whole by the darkness, falling into an empty chasm below. I look up to find the portal above me because I was thrown into it.
The last thing I see is the consumption of flickering green fire.
And the last thing I hear are the demon’s cries, vowing for revenge.
Seven
Malek
I’m in hell. Actual
ly, it’s worse. Because if I were in hell, at least I’d be with Izzy. Instead, I’m useless. I’m waiting in what they call a punishment but really these vacant shadow walls are nothing compared to the guilt I feel inside myself for not being able to help her.
She’s my mate! I’m responsible for her. In my pack, I’d be sentenced to death just for not caring for my woman like I should. Women are more than just mates in my society. They’re bringers of life, your other half, to be treasured. They’re nothing short of goddesses.
And I’ve failed my goddess.
For days the eerie whispers scuttle along the smokey walls of my magical imprisonment. They’re meant to scare me, but I can’t hear a single thing over the endless rant I’m having with myself in my head as I sit on the cold stone floor.
How the hell could you lose your mate? You don’t deserve her. If she’s dead, it’s your fault.
“Stop!” I growl out at that threatening statement.
She’s not dead.
She’s not.
I’d know if Izara Castillo’s heart stopped beating. I’d know, because pain would rip through my soul somewhere much deeper than where love and lust and sadness resides. It’d tear through my will to live.
And I don’t know if I’d be left standing.
My body folds in on itself in a child’s type of pose, my forehead meeting the stone cold ground as I try to listen to the sound of my breath filling my lungs. I listen to my body rather than my mind.
And my body—my nerves, my breath, my warm, steady heartbeat—it’s her. The bond I share with her, is deeper than an emotion. I haven’t told her that. Partly because it’s terrifying to me and partly because I think it’d terrify her.
But she’s in the very blood that pulses through my body, the solid beating of this thumping heart, the breath that sustains my very life.
And the moment I see her again, I’m going to tell her that.
Eight
Izara
I land on solid ground, a curse springing from my lips and pain slicing down my every nerve ending.