But it wasn’t a stormy sky—it was a pair of vast, black wings that spread wide above me, and what appeared to be lightning was instead a piercing pair of blindingly white eyes that etched an image into the back of my mind, one that lingered long after sleep overcame me. “Oz,” I mumbled, turning onto my side and sheltering my face with my arm.
All at once, the lightning stopped.
Darkness engulfed me.
16
I awoke with a clear head; no fatigue remained. My confidence in what I was about to do grew with every second. I was going to get Hades to free Drew. The thought brought a reserved smile to my face.
Then the smile fell.
As I pushed myself up to sit on the edge of my bed, the comforter still beneath me, I saw an unmistakable indentation in the vacant spot beside me. The covers had been disturbed by the weight of another. The storm and the lightning.
Oz.
He had been in my room—in my bed.
With that befuddling realization, I scanned the rest of my room for any sign of him. There was none to be found. If he had indeed been there while I slept—and I saw no viable alternative to that theory—then why had he left without so much as a word? Oz lived to taunt me, fallen or Dark. I could so easily visualize him lying beside me, his smug grin intact while I awoke to some snide remark about me drooling in my sleep or something equally crass. The fact that he had not capitalized on such an opportunity only gave me further pause.
But there was no time for ruminating. I needed to find my father, inform him of what I had done, and start the process of sending Drew back. I made my way to the standing mirror that was propped against the far wall of my room. My hair was disheveled, my clothes a wrinkled mess, but I had no inclination to change. So, I instead smoothed my hair back as best I could in an effort to make myself more presentable, and I turned to head through my bedroom doorway and into the corridor that would eventually take me to Hades’ chambers. I hoped he would be there.
“Khara,” he said with a measure of surprise when he stepped out of his room, nearly running into me in the process. “I was just coming to find you.”
“As I was you. I need to speak with you. It’s about Drew.”
“Yes, I know. Hecate told me,” he said, somewhat tersely. There was an underlying irritation in his tone, though I could not discern if it was aimed at me or his necromancer.
“She has spoken out of turn, then,” I replied, thinking that she had gone against my wishes and approached my father.
“She told me that you went to her. . . .” He studied my expression as he spoke, looking for something in it that he was unlikely to find. “That you told her of my concerns about Drew.”
“I did. I thought that if anyone could be of service in the matter—”
“Enough,” he said, holding his palm toward me to cut off my explanation. “It is clear to me that you will not let this go, or you would not have done something as bold as going behind my back about it.”
I did my best to look contrite, though I did not feel it.
“I am sorry for sidestepping your concerns—”
“I will do it,” he said, cutting off my apology.
“You will?”
“Yes,” he affirmed, though his expression darkened, as if in forewarning of the outcome he saw as inevitable. “I have spoken with him myself. You were right; he did not hesitate for even a beat when I made the offer.”
“When?”
“Momentarily. That is why I was coming for you. Hecate has already pulled Drew from the Elysian Fields. She is waiting with him in the temple. We must go now.”
Time moved both quickly and slowly. My hurried pace and racing heart contrasted greatly with what seemed to be the endless journey to Father’s temple. It was his private room for those who needed more punishment than the various realms of the Underworld could provide. It was secure and secluded, and the most inconspicuous place to attempt what we were about to.
When we strode down the final hall, my father’s heavy footfalls out of cadence with my own while I struggled to keep up, he looked down at me. There was a morbid uncertainty in his gaze. I met it with one of confidence. His magic would work.
It had to.
We arrived to find the others already there. Hecate said nothing upon our entrance; she instead lurked in the shadows cast by the torchlight. Drew, however, turned to smile at me when I arrived. Though he did not speak, that one simple gesture said everything. He was once again himself. Once again how I remembered him—finding joy in the most inexplicable situations. This time, it was the chance to return home that had his spirits high.
“I will give you one last chance to abandon this,” Hades said aloud, addressing Drew. He shook his head in negation. “Then so be it.”
With a sigh, Hades closed his eyes tightly and started murmuring under his breath, the melodic Greek words spilling from him like a lullaby. But it was anything but. Those words would, if the Fates allowed, raise the dead. While the cadence of his words and the volume of his voice increased, I stood stoically in silence, waiting for my brother to change. To return to the warrior he had been. Drew, however, stood in the middle of the room, looking mildly concerned; his eyes constantly darted to the dark corner where Hecate stood. He knew who she was and what she had done to Casey. It was clear that he had little trust in her, which only further cemented my resolve not to utilize her in the ceremony unless absolutely needed. If Drew were to be forever relegated to the Oudeis, I wanted it to be at my father’s hands, not hers.
I could feel the magic coursing through the room, dancing over the surface of my skin gracefully while it pulsated toward Drew. The intensity grew along with my father’s voice until suddenly Hades threw his arms up and yelled, “Rise!” The very second the word left his mouth, everything went wrong.
Drew’s head snapped back to look up at the ceiling; his entire body was rigid but vibrating. The pain was evidenced by the tight grimace on his face. I took a step toward him, but Hecate’s voice held me in place.
“Do not touch the dead when death magic is in play, Khara, unless you should wish to trade places with him.” I would be lying if I did not admit that her warning momentarily fueled me to go to him. I would have been willing to trade places with my brother. The only reason I did not was the inherent knowledge that, when he realized that I had sacrificed myself for him, he would never forgive himself. His guilt would prove more torturous than the Underworld ever could be. Sean would never forgive him either, the implications of which were beyond grim for Drew. So I stayed, standing steadfast against my raging desire to aid my brother.
I watched as sweat ran down Hades’ face, a look of impossible concentration etched deeply into it while he struggled to right the wrong that the Universe had dealt Drew. I had no idea if he was accomplishing what he had set out to do, but I was certain that he could not have done more. He stumbled back a step, arms raised, as though he was trying to magically lift Drew up and out of the Underworld.
But Drew did not move.
Instead, he remained where he was, his body nearly convulsing in pain by this point. His mouth ripped open; a soundless cry threatened to escape him, but nothing did. He looked as though he was being torn apart from the inside, and I wanted nothing more than for it to be over. I could watch him suffer no more.
“Father,” I whispered, afraid to break his concentration, but even more afraid to witness the destruction of my brother.
But Hades was in another place, his mind fixated on the task at hand. He did not hear my plea.
Just then, Drew’s hands shot to his head, clamping down on it so hard that I feared he would crush his own skull. Collapsing to his knees, he dislodged the scream that had undoubtedly been trying to escape for what had seemed an eternity. The sound was nearly deafening, and the power it carried forced the rest of us against the walls of the room.
Wind whipped wildly at our faces.
Fiery flames erupted around our bodies.
The stench of burning flesh clung to our nostrils.
And then, suddenly, in a white-hot flash of lightning, Drew disappeared. One moment he was there. The next he was no longer. All that was left was a smoldering scorch mark on the floor where he had just stood.
The three of us who remained in the room were released from our invisible shackles. His scream had evaporated with him. Now able to move, I ran to the ashen black mark on the stone floor while Hades and Hecate stayed where they were. Father’s face was a mask of horror. Hecate’s was unreadable.
“Father?” I asked, imploring him to tell me that all was well. That his endeavor had succeeded. I was met, however, with silence. “Father!” My tone was brash, trying to elicit some sort of response from him. Again, I was met with his silence.
“He has failed,” Hecate replied, drawing my attention to her. “For what it is worth, there is nothing I could have done to help. The magic needed to come from your father alone. I felt that during the ceremony.”
“So, you are saying that he is in the Oudeis?” Her lips pressed tightly together, unwilling to confirm what I already knew the failed outcome to be. “Then it is I who has failed,” I whispered, wandering toward the vast room’s door. “I have failed them all . . .”
It was only then that my father found his voice, calling after me while I mindlessly walked out of the room and down the hall, uncertain where I was headed. All I knew was that I could not remain where I was. Soon enough, I would have to tell Kierson and Casey that the plan had not worked, an outcome I was loath to admit. They had all done so much to help me in my short time with them above. I had wanted to do the same for them—but I had my selfish motivations as well. Spending time on Earth without my loyal, noble brother seemed unfathomable. Detroit needed him. The PC needed him.
I needed him.
And as that thought punched a hole in my heart, seizing my chest so tightly that it was hard to find my breath, I continued off into the darkness, hoping that it would swallow me whole.
I should have traded places with Drew when I had the chance. Sacrificing myself for him would have been the noble thing to do. It is what Drew would have done for me, and that reality only served to highlight my shortcomings as a member of the PC. They did not need a female whose powers were uncertain. They needed warriors. I had told my brothers once that I was anything but. They had argued the point with me then.
Now, I had no doubt that they would concede it.
17
By the time I had found Casey and Kierson, the self-loathing I felt was intolerable. It made me long for the days when what little emotion I possessed was utterly unreachable. It was a far simpler time.
Sitting silently at one of the massive feasting tables, the two of them started when I came in the room, both turning their attention to me. It did not take long for them to read the failure that was so plainly evident in my countenance. I had made no attempt to hide it.
“So he’s—”
“Forever lost,” I stated, interrupting Kierson. “Hades was not able to do what Drew and I had both hoped he could, though I do not blame him. I blame myself. Hades was transparent when he told me of his reservations. I chose to ignore them, as did Drew. And now . . .”
“He’s fucked for eternity,” Casey added, his voice a growl.
“Yes. He is.”
Casey shot up out of his seat, instinctively pulling his daggers from the sheaths that were strapped across his back and chest. He wanted something to kill; he knew he would find solace in the act. Unfortunately, the only thing he could kill for retribution was me. For a moment, his black eyes met mine from across the room. With his blades raised, I wondered if he was assessing the ramifications of killing the princess of the Underworld—his own sister. But he did not attack. His eyes blinked hard, then his weapons lowered, a twinge of sorrow in his expression. As sorrowful as one so soulless could ever appear, at least.
Then, without warning, the feasting table went flying across the room, smashed into the far wall, and broke into two formidable pieces. The screeching cry that accompanied it was a familiar one. Kierson stood behind Casey and me, breathing hard as his wild, unfocused eyes stared off at the carnage he created.
“Kierson,” I said softly, as though coaxing a wounded animal. “This is my fault, and for that I am sorrier than you can imagine.” I did not wish to admit what I then knew I had to, but my brothers deserved the truth, and I would provide them with it, consequences be damned. When he finally came back to his senses, his head slowly turned toward me, his body quieting itself somewhat. “I could have spared him by changing places with him. I chose not to. His damnation hangs over my head.”
His eyes narrowed keenly at me.
“You could have changed places with him?” he asked. For once, in all the time I had known him, his voice was devoid of emotion.
“Yes.”
“And you considered doing this?”
“Yes. But in the end I refrained.”
He paused for a moment, then charged toward me, stopping so close to me that our bodies were nearly touching.
“It’s a goddamned good thing that you didn’t,” he seethed. “And I don’t give a shit if you think this is all your fault or not. You didn’t kill Drew. You didn’t force him to try this sketchy ceremony bullshit either. Death is a part of our lives, Khara. You may think I’m too soft to accept that fact, but I’ve been dealing with it for longer than you could possibly imagine. So you can give up on this guilt that you are clinging to so desperately. Drew would have never forgiven you for trading places with him . . . and neither would I.”
“Me either,” Casey echoed. I turned to face him, shocked by his admittance. He shrugged ambivalently. “What can I say? Chaos follows you around like a shadow. And I’m always up for a little chaos.”
“Well, this has all been very touching to witness,” a familiar voice drawled from a shadowy corner of the room. “But now that we have established that Drew is eternally fucked and Khara is not to blame, can we move on to more pressing issues?” Oz stepped into the firelight of the room, his dark appendages retracted neatly behind him.
“Such as?” Casey snapped. Those two were apparently not yet on better terms.
“Getting you two idiots out of here and Khara getting the answers she came for.”
“I’m not leaving without her,” Kierson growled protectively.
“Listen, just because Drew is gone, that doesn’t mean there’s an opening in the ‘most loyal brother’ department,” Oz retorted, much to Kierson’s irritation. “You can rest assured that Khara won’t be far behind.”
“And I’m not leaving until I get what I came for. We have had this discussion before,” I told him, watching something flicker through his deep brown eyes when I defied him.
“You’re not safe here,” he rumbled in response.
“Is that not why I have you?” I mocked. “Are you not here to ensure my safety, for whatever reason you find it necessary to do so?”
Flames flickered in his pupils. They were mesmerizing.
“I think it’s time that you and I have a sidebar, new girl,” he said, taking me by the arm to lead me out of the room.
“I think not,” I countered, twisting out of his grasp. “I have an agenda here.” I addressed the three of them, knowing that, like it or not, they all needed to be reminded of something. “And my agenda has not been satisfied. You may not see Drew’s relegation to the Oudeis as a failure, Kierson, but I do, and I refuse to fail also in my attempt to discern precisely what I am and why I have been kept a secret all these centuries. Until that is done, I will need to be protected by those who care about me, which will only result in more death and sadness. I cannot stand by idly and allow such foolishness. If knowledge of my mother can remedy this, then that is precisely what I am going to get,” I declared, turning my focus to Oz and Oz alone. “You may not be willing to provide me with it, but there are those who will. For a price.”
A battle of wi
lls drew out between us when our eyes met. I did not wish to further explain, and Oz seemed reluctant to have me spell out, in no uncertain terms, what “for a price” meant. I could not help but wonder if he was weighing his options while he stared at me harshly, his eyes cutting through me. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but a spritely voice interrupted his attempt.
“What are you guys doing?” Aery asked, feigning ignorance of the tension in the room. Much to the contrary, I had no doubt that it was that very tension that had drawn her to us. When none of us responded, she clasped her hands behind her back and rocked back and forth on her feet, awaiting an explanation. The hostility being projected at her did nothing to deter her.
“Nothing,” I said, breaking the silence that threatened to continue ad infinitum. “We are finished in here. Do you need something, Aery?”
“Oh, no. I just wanted to come and see how you were doing,” she said sympathetically, her oversized eyes wide. “I heard about Drew. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
I could feel my teeth protesting under the pressure of my clenched jaw.
“Thank you.”
“He seemed really sweet,” she continued, making her way farther into the room.
“I need to go,” I said abruptly, pushing past her on my way to the door. She caught my arm before I could advance very far.
“There’s something else, Khara,” she said, her eyes darting warily to the others. Leaning in close to me, her body pressed close to my side, she rolled up onto the tips of her toes to whisper in my ear. “An army of darkness comes.”
Pulling away from her, I looked down to find a steady but concerned expression on her face. She had remembered more of the message.
With barely even a nod of acknowledgment, I turned back toward the door and walked away.
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