My gaze falls onto two women as I walk across the stone hesitantly towards them. One has a clipboard, is tall, leggy and unnaturally blonde with horn-rimmed spectacles and full red lips, which contrast starkly against her translucent skin. Her body is curvaceous, with enormous breasts that strain against the simple black blouse and an ass that is bursting against the seams of her pencil skirt. She’s stood in stilettos and is eyeing me up and down with interest.
The girl beside her, however, could not be more different. She’s wearing the same attire, but is wispy, with honey blonde hair, which falls from beneath a wimple of all things, and what seem to be cornflower blue eyes. I can’t tell for sure because her gaze is fixed firmly on the floor.
The woman with the clipboard and glasses takes a step forward.
“You must be Persephone. I’m Dolores, or Dolly. Whichever you’d prefer. I’m one of the main organisers of day to day operations here at the Exilia. I’ve got your room key here,” she passes me a chocolate coloured, crystal key, before continuing, “and Annie here will help you take your bags upstairs. She’s the head of housekeeping.” She’s abrupt and pointed in her language, almost causing me to flinch.
I hear Cerb’s ragged breathing coming up behind me and feel Xion’s shadow fall over me as Annie and Dolores stare down at Cerb with wide eyes.
“Is that? Oh, it can’t be…”
“That’s Cerb,” I introduce him, and they both fall to their knees immediately.
“Oh my Gosh, it is! Cerb, come here!” Both women hold out open arms, and Cerb gives a large bark, yanking on the leash until Xion has no choice but to let go.
The Leonberger makes a mad dash for the two women, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as he bowls into them.
“I guess you guys know each other…” I say out into the air, glad that I’m no longer the focus of attention. I notice the eyes of some of the people standing guard flitting toward me before returning to staring blankly at nothing, and it makes me feel uneasy.
“Oh, yes! We’ve missed you Cerberus!” Dolores buries her hands deep into the fur around his neck and I roll my eyes.
“So… which way do I go? I’d really like to unpack and get settled.” I push on, and the two women rise to their feet in unison.
“Of course. Go with Annie; she’ll take you to your room.” Dolores indicates for me to follow the meek looking girl who is dressed like a nun.
Is she actually a nun? I wonder. Perhaps, but I don’t know if she would have ended up here if she’d been a good one. I conclude
“Right this way, Miss.” Annie’s voice comes as no more than a mouse squeak, and as I stare at her, she moves past me. Blanching under my gaze, her face drains of any and all colour.
I grab Cerb’s leash up off the floor, stopping its motion with the heel of my boot as he moves to run after her. Wrapping the leather around my wrist, I stall him, waiting a few moments for Xion to take my suitcase down off the roof of the carriage.
Once Xion is beside me with my case in tow, I look up to him, frightened to move into the depths of this new cage, no matter how gothic and stunning it might be.
“You don’t have to come you know. I can manage,” I whisper, but he shakes his head.
“I’m your luggage boy, remember? I might as well finish the job,” he replies, his expression stern. I know he can tell I’m afraid, and for once, I’m grateful for his persistence in sticking around even when I’m trying to push him away.
“Okay, let’s go.” I take a deep breath and step forward, following Annie who is waiting on the wide crystal staircase. It amazes me that there is so much made from the stuff, and I examine where the stone is interspersed with twisted metal which climbs in vicious looking vines before curling into gothic style roses up the balustrade.
My feet are too slow for Cerb, who clearly knows where he’s going better than I do, as he rushes me through the many dark corridors, which are illuminated only by alternating blue and red flames, snaking up from sconces but emitting no smoke.
Finally, after climbing several spiral staircases and attempting to stop unsuccessfully to peer into some of the rooms half hopeful, half terrified I’ll bump into some death god, we arrive at what I suppose is my room.
Annie stands aside.
“If you need anything let us know. We’ll be posting someone on guard outside your door; if you need something, they will come fetch us.” Her voice is so small it’s barely audible, but I nod, tired of the presence of other people. I just want to be alone now, even if that means saying goodbye to Xion for a while.
I palm the key I’ve been given, ramming it into the lock of the heavy bronze door and pushing it open. Inside a luxurious deep mahogany glow consumes my vision, and I’m left breathless at the decadence of it all. Chocolate diamonds shimmer, their facets reflecting a warm glow back from the agate fireplace. The high walls are slick in what looks like tourmaline, and all the furniture is carved in gold baroque design. There’s a cream rug near the fireplace, surrounded by cream leather armchairs, and Cerb takes flight toward it, stretching out like he owns the place. On the right-hand wall, sporting a golden frame, carved to appear as though it is made from four wide trunked trees encrusted with dark topaz, a four-poster bed stands, beckoning with a mix of gold and cocoa velvets and silks atop the high mattress. Opposite where I’m standing, a balcony beckons, though I know the air will be less than refreshing.
“Should I just go?” Xion asks me, and I gesture for him to leave, signalling my desire to be alone in not even wanting to speak. Everything is changing too fast, and I’m becoming quickly exhausted in spite of my usual high energy levels. I hear the door close behind me, and as I turn to say goodbye only too late, realising he’s already gone, I see a golden envelope upon the table beside the door.
Taking off my backpack, I take a few small steps forward, scared it’s from Haedes, but as I grasp the thick paper in my hand and rip open the envelope, I am surprised to find it’s something far more formal.
Miss Persephone Sinclair,
You are invited by The Nexus to attend a formal ball, which will be thrown this night, in your honour.
Please proceed to the Grand Hall when the sun is positioned outside your balcony.
We are eagerly anticipating meeting you,
The Nexus Council
I throw down the invitation.
I haven’t even met my own father, and I’m supposed to go and make nice with a bunch of gods and goddesses, who have no connection to me at all, first? I feel my heart become heavy and so walk the length of the room, throwing open the balcony doors and walking out onto the platform which overlooks the city.
I hang my head over the ornate copper railing, feeling the weight of change heavy on my shoulders. Is it possible that this has all been one giant mistake?
I know I’m trying to push myself back into denial.
It doesn’t work though as I gaze up to the violet sun overhead, which burns despite everything in my head telling me it should not be possible. The sky should not be a smoky burgundy but instead blue, light, and airy, and yet it is.
The entire place screams oppression as I look down into the city streets, watching carriages move and people walk along the sidewalks like the insignificant ants they are. I too feel insignificant. I feel helpless.
Turning my back on the view, I don’t bother to unpack. Instead I pull the book Xion had given me from my backpack. Launching myself into the deep and inviting hold of the four-poster bed, I flick through the pages, scanning for Haedes’ Descent. It only takes me a few minutes to find, and so I begin to read, hoping that with more knowledge of this place, of him, I might start to understand who I am in all of this as well.
I wake with a start to the sound of knocking against metal and then Cerb’s too loud bark.
I’d fallen asleep after reading the tale of how Haedes had been expelled from The Higher Plains by his brother, and my dreams became a morphed version, whereby my father condemned me
to hell instead for his murder.
I’m coated in a layer of sweat, and the room is boiling with the heat being put out by the fire. Groggy, I get to my feet and make my way over to the door, nervous as to who could be knocking.
I place my hand on the handle, taking a deep breath and turning it. The door swings open, but it’s not who I expect. A familiar face at least.
“Sephy, you look terrible.” Luce assesses me, pushing her way into the room and ushering in several sinners behind her. They bring in a dress form clothed in an enormous and overly decadent chestnut coloured gown. It’s dripping in stones, and I snort. A panther follows closely in her wake, causing me to gape.
Surely that thing can’t be domesticated?
Cerb, however, clearly knows more than I do, as he bounds toward the large black cat. I stare at the gown as it’s set down upon the crystal floor, and the two animals begin to get reacquainted behind the brown monster-dress.
“Uh, thanks for that. What the hell is this monstrosity?” I query, closing the door behind her and turning before placing a hand on one hip.
“It’s your ball gown of course, for the reception tonight. You’re the guest of honour.” She looks at me with wide eyes, and I can’t work out if her expression is really as innocent as it seems. She seems so nice on the surface, but her reputation still irks me, and I wonder what secrets she has lurking beneath the pure white of her hair.
“Oh, I’m not wearing that,” I state simply, a small laugh escaping my lips.
“Wait? Why not! I had our finest seamstress…” she begins, her own decadent red gown swirling around her as she turns to face me, and the sinners leave, sensing an incoming wrath.
“Look, it’s really nice of you and all, but it’s not my style. I don’t wear dresses. Ever.” I shrug, not expecting her to understand.
“But… but… you’d look so pretty… your hair!” she exclaims, astounded at my lack of wanting to play princess.
“I’m heading into a meeting with a council of gods made mortal, after being brought here because I’m being hunted by Demons. I do not want to look like a princess, damsel, or any other kind of thing that needs saving. I thought you’d get it, what with the horns and all.” I gesture up to the two protrusions which rise from her skull, and she looks at me, her eyes suddenly twinkling.
“You want to look strong? Fierce?” she asks me, and I nod.
“Exactly.”
“Well then, I think I’d better take you shopping,” she sighs, as if this is a chore, and yet, behind her gaze, I can tell she’s secretly thrilled.
“Alright… but let me just…” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“No time, Sephy. We have a lot to do,” she promises, grabbing my elbow and pulling me out of the room, a wicked smile spreading across her bloody lips.
Chapter Fifteen
Thriller
SEPHY
The air in the carriage turns awkward quickly after our mad dash through the Exilia Multum and down into what I want to call the entrance courtyard. We move away from the palace, away from the glow of the River Styx, and the only audible sound is Luce’s breathing and the horses’ hooves falling upon crystal road.
“So… was it your idea to throw this party?” I don’t like the silence, and I don’t want things to be awkward. Out of all the people I’ve met so far, Lucifer seems like she’s the one with the most knowledge and power. I’m curious about her, about how she came to be here, but I don’t know if it’s appropriate to ask.
“Not exactly.” She purses her lips, and I give her a questioning look, brushing my hair behind one ear. “It was Haedes’ idea,” she adds, watching my reaction as I feel my heart become weighted like someone has tied rocks to it.
“He didn’t think something less… I don’t know, formal might be better?” I ask, and she laughs.
“You really don’t know him. He doesn’t work like that. He will avoid getting visibly emotional at all costs. What better way than to surround you with hundreds of other people and make a giant impersonal display?” she queries me, and I laugh to myself. That sounds exactly like something I would try to pull. Maybe I have more in common with him than I realise.
“Well, I guess that there will be alcohol, so that’s a plus, right?” I demand an answer of her, desperate to find a positive, and the edge of her lips twitch.
“Oh yes. It’s Haedes. He’s practically married to whisky.” She crosses her legs beneath her red skirt, and I ignore the sentiment, mainly because she’s making it evident that we have yet another thing in common.
“Isn’t he worried that you know… announcing my whereabouts like this isn’t such a great plan security wise?” I demand, and she looks surprised at my forethought on this. I smile a little, glad that I’m clearly not as oblivious as she originally assumed.
“We had a heated discussion about that, actually. I said that he shouldn’t do it because it’s a risk; he said that it’s safe because we have so much security… I don’t know. The Demon Lords had access to you somehow in the mortal world. I’m not convinced, but he’s the boss.” She shrugs, and I look out of the window as silence falls between us again.
Is Haedes putting me at risk in order to prevent having to meet me one on one?
I feel angry at this theory, mainly because I don’t know why he’s so bothered. I certainly don’t expect anything from him, so I don’t know why he’s making such a big deal.
We pass old fashioned streetlamps, flickering with a blue flame inside gothic style glass cases. They stand upon black steel rods which twist toward the top, making them look like the stalks of morbidly preserved, dead flowers.
The city streets seem familiar somehow as we pass strip clubs, coffee shops, night clubs and clothing stores. Sinners move along the sidewalks in a metronomic and uniform shuffle, mainly dressed in all black, all dead behind the eyes.
After a few minutes, the vehicle pulls to a stop, and the sounds of hooves cease. Luce opens the carriage door, impatient as the driver dismounts to open it for her slower than she can handle. I follow her out.
Standing out on the street, I gaze upon the innards of Mortaria. It’s audibly less overwhelming than I expect for a city, with a lack of car horns and people talking on cell phones. However, one thing I can’t help but smile at is the fact that slow jazz is ringing out through the air.
“Is that… live?” I ask her, looking around for the source.
“Yes. Music is good for the soul you know.” Luce gives me a smile, and I smirk at the comment, grateful for the music as distraction from how out of place I feel.
Looking forward now, I find myself outside a mystery store with a dirty black sign. The letters on its surface were bright gold once, but something has worn them down so they no longer make up legible text. I’m sceptical as Luce leads me forward and pushes down on the handle of a door with four dirty glass panes that make up a window. A bell sounds out unapologetically as we enter.
“Hello? Sissy?” I hear Luce call out into the pokey corners of the tiny shop. I feel comforted a little at the claustrophobic feel of the place because it reminds me of the rooms back in England. Here there is no high ceiling, no electric lighting, only more blue flames that illuminate the inside of the shop, casting shadows into the acutely angled corners. Desks littered with bolts of fabric, scissors and scattered rogue buttons edge the shop, and I look around in interest, finding, not surprisingly, only dark hues on display.
From the back room, a short woman in a simple black jumpsuit emerges. I can tell her hair was lustrous once, but now it’s dull and frizzy atop her head. Her skin is pale and her green eyes widen as she sees Luce standing in the doorway.
“Oh, Lucifer! What a pleasure it is! Who is this?” she inquires and Luce stands aside so I can step forward. I’m grateful she doesn’t try to introduce me, instead letting me do it myself.
“I’m Sephy.” I hold out a hand, but she merely looks at it, and then to Luce for instruction, fear evident in her worn expre
ssion.
“It’s alright, you can shake her hand. She’s demi,” she explains, and I look back at her.
“They’re not allowed to shake your hand?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.
“No. It’s just an etiquette thing. It enforces respect,” Luce informs me, and I nod, accepting this as normal. I guess they have to keep order in one way or another. After all, there are a lot more sinners than gods here.
“Sephy here wants something fierce for a masked ball tonight,” she demands, and Sissy smiles.
“Alright. I’m glad to hear Haedes is throwing another. It’s been a while,” she notes, clearly looking for the reason as to why this is.
Luce doesn’t smile at her, or give any more information, instead taking a seat on a large velvet pouf of deep teal against the back wall.
I stand, uncomfortable, in the middle of the room.
“Do you like… you know, making mortals suffer?” I ask her, and she laughs.
“Oh, Sephy, this isn’t suffering. What Anubis and Osiris had running before we took over, that was suffering. We have a system here. It’s regulated rehabilitation. Sinners still have freedom; they can buy and sell time for things they need. Some are even invited to the ball tonight. This is a far better way of rehab than torture,” she explains and I frown even still.
“But why rehabilitate at all? Are the sins that bad?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.
“You misunderstand. It is not the sin itself but the darkness in the universe that an individual succumbs to in committing it. That darkness must be returned before a soul can be re-housed by the Crucible of Gaia. It is necessary for the survival of our universe. Trust me, I don’t want to be the bad guy; I’ve had enough of being made out that way my entire life,” Luce sighs, looking sideways into the room where Sissy is rustling around, impatient. She’s clearly uncomfortable, but I don’t let that stop me, more curious now than ever.
The Opal Blade (The Ashen Touch Trilogy Book 1) Page 21