“I’m trying!” I exclaim, tired of his yelling.
“Not hard enough!” he calls back at me, causing my rage to grow. “A demon won’t wait for you to be ready. You have to be able to do this at the click of my fingers. You need to tap into what makes you produce the flame. What happened when you used it last time?” he asks, and I shrug.
“I dunno; I was scared. Cerb was… I dunno… he was fighting with that thing, and…” Haedes nods, and before I can blink, he’s gone. He returns moments later, having moved only an inch from where he was previously standing. Cerb is at his feet. I smile at the dog, but before I have the chance to call him to me for a reunion cuddle, Haedes shows me he has other plans in mind.
Twirling his fingers, he manipulates the eternal flame into a ball, looking at Cerb and then me with a malicious grin. Pulling his arm back, he turns his attention back to the Leonberger.
“Hey, Cerb, fetch!” he commands, throwing the ball of flame. I watch as Cerb willingly takes flight after the projectile, and suddenly my rage is unstoppable.
I feel it spark in my synapses, then rush through my veins as though, once more, gasoline has been set alight by my nervous system. The flame erupts from my fingertips, and so I throw it at the ball of flame Cerb is pursuing, without thought, causing both of them to collide and mushroom outwards. The Leonberger backs up at the flash of light, his ears lowering in fear as he emits a whine.
“What the hell was that? You can’t do that!” I yell, pissed that he’d put my dog in danger.
“And yet, it worked. So, I guess I can.” His face is calm as he takes another sip of whisky, his long fingers flitting my words away as though they’re nothing.
“It didn’t work. All that means is that if Cerb is in danger, I can protect him. I need to protect me!” I’m getting out of breath as I yell at him, beyond angry. He really knows how to push my buttons, and it’s driving me crazy.
“No, it showed me that your anger is where your power comes from. Just like mine,” he explains, and I roll my eyes.
“What a load of horseshit. I’ve been wanting to make that whisky in your hand catch light and burn your stupid blue eyebrows off for hours now. Anger clearly isn’t it at all!” I express, and he smirks.
“Oh, I’m sure you are angry at me, but I mean real, life or death rage. That desire to save someone, that anger that someone might take them away from you. You have to harness that. Being pissed off isn’t enough anymore. It may have been enough before, but now you need to learn to find it at will. To have that desperate fury on command,” he explains, crossing his legs so he’s propped on one, leaning against the piano beside him on which his whisky glass and bottle are propped.
“And how do you suggest I do that?” I ask him, serious now as I feel my rage wearing thin.
“You can turn pain into power Sephy. Trust me, it wasn’t my happy childhood and great relationship history that made me qualified to rule this place. Real rulers don’t avoid pain; they embrace it and turn it into power.” He’s becoming poetic, and I nod, wondering if he’ll burst into song.
“So, what… I just… think of something that happened to me that wasn’t fair?” I ask him, and he nods.
“Something painful. Something that hurts you deep inside.” I know what this thing is immediately, and so recall the days following my parent’s death. Closing my eyes, I find myself reliving the memories too easily. Of standing over their coffins, of Peter forcing me into an ugly black dress with a stiff white collar for the funeral despite my kicking and screaming, despite my fear of putting them in the ground.
Opening my eyes, I find a flickering flame, hearty in my palm.
“Most magic is emotional. Never forget that. If you feel weak, your magic will reflect it,” Haedes elaborates and I nod, once again not having a witty comeback or a snarky retort. He’s disarming me somehow, despite the fact I feel nothing but resentment for his annoyingly relaxed gaze.
“You’re a very brash person,” I comment, and he smirks.
“So are you,” he replies. It’s true; I know it is, but I don’t want to admit it.
“Xion says the same thing,” I blurt, not sure why I’m bringing him up. Haedes’ eyebrows rise on his face.
“Does he now? Do you like him… Xion?” He takes a sip of whisky and watches me with interest as he swallows.
“We’re friends. He’s saved my life. I owe him a lot,” I remind him.
“You’re my daughter; you don’t owe anyone anything.” His reply surprises me even further, and he himself looks like it’s not entirely been thought through before he’s spoken it either.
“I’m not your daughter. You don’t…” I begin, but he interrupts me.
“Don’t what?” he asks, dropping his gaze into the bottom of his whisky glass which is, yet again, almost empty.
“You don’t know what being a father is. You’ve never been scared for me, or sacrificed anything for me… you’re not vulnerable because of me. Not really. You put me in danger. What does it matter to you if I die? I mean, it’s not like you’d care. After all, you’re just going to keep on living. I’m sure you could make another daughter or even… I don’t know.” I think for a moment before continuing, “How can anything be precious to you when all you have is time? My mother, she was precious to you… or at least, I think she was once… and you lost her. Yet you don’t even want to know me… Don’t you care? I’m part of both of you, at least biologically. Just… stop acting like you give a shit if you really don’t. I don’t have time for your personal problems, and I don’t deserve to suffer for them. I’m suffering enough because you’re my father already.” I’m out of breath, wondering why it is I’m suddenly saying these things to him. It could be because I’m tired or simply because I want him to cut the crap and let me know where I stand.
“Come with me,” is all he says, leading me across the smoky quartz of the floor. I tread after him, moving fast in my sneakers and watching Cerb as his gaze tracks my motion. Clearly not worried for my safety, he curls up in a ball in the middle of the enormous room, a puddle of fluff in the gloomy sheen of the place.
Haedes takes me through a small golden door behind what had been the stage from the night of the ball. He doesn’t use a key but instead, places a hand to a panel and allows the metal to glow orange before it slides open with a few clicking sounds. I watch, unsure of what to expect behind it as nerves begin to flutter around my stomach like bats set loose.
“This is my vault,” Haedes announces, waving a hand and illuminating the space as many sconces flicker to light with a red flame. The walls are gold, and so is the floor, solid gold in fact. The entire room looks like it’s on fire, and I inhale deeply as the contents of the place are revealed atop hundreds of shelves.
“They’re…” I begin but he interrupts me.
“Hourglasses. These show the time left on any sinner’s sentence here in Mortaria,” he enlightens me.
I pass the hourglasses, all of which tinkle as stones move or still in their narrow waists. They have different coloured crystals within, which I assume links to which sin the sinner is charged with. Some of them have a mixture, but I’m getting the impression this isn’t what Haedes wants to show me.
“Come…” he beckons me on, moving deeper and deeper into the vault. I trail behind him, looking at a shelf of urns on my left. They look like they’re filled with ashes or maybe something else, and one has a triangular symbol on that I’ve never seen before. I reach out to touch it, feeling drawn to the curve of the pure quartz it’s carved from.
“Don’t touch that,” Haedes calls out, causing me to jump. I turn, finding him right beside me.
“Well that’s not creepy.” I don’t smile but bite my tongue to stop myself from saying anything further.
“Come on. Best not dawdle. There’s all kinds of magic you could be getting yourself into trouble with in here…” he makes this dark promise, causing me to become even more curious, but I know I can’t escape him,
not with his ability to convect at will, and so follow him in despite my desire to explore.
We reach another door, and this time, Haedes takes a key off a chain around his neck. It’s tiny, and it barely looks like a key at all. I only become certain of its function when he slots the multifaceted crystal into a central hole in the door, bringing his hand up to a similar panel to the one I’d seen before and allowing his palm to heat. The door gives several audible clicks, and he withdraws the crystal key, allowing it to slide aside and stepping back so I can enter first.
A suspicious person would wonder if they were being lured into some kind of prison cell, but the second I’m inside, Haedes follows me in and illuminates the room, this time with a blue flame instead.
“What… what is that?” I ask him, and he looks serious as we gaze upon it. It’s enormous, at least ten feet tall, and black, only visible in silhouette because of the flickering sconces which cast its many facets in a cool light. It’s an enormous, onyx hourglass.
“It’s mine,” he gives this as explanation.
“Well, I’d gathered that. It’s in your vault. What is it? And why is it that enormous?” I ask him, and he sighs.
“No, Sephy, I mean it’s mine. My hourglass,” he reiterates his prior statement, and I frown, not sure what he’s trying to insinuate.
“What… why do you have one? I don’t understand…”
“When Zeus banished me here, he didn’t ever intend for me to live this long. He wanted me to live out a normal mortal life in pain and die so I could learn about death. As it was, he forgot I have power over the resurrection flame… that’s why I made the sun…” he expresses.
“You were afraid to die…” I say, realising what he’s getting at.
“I still am. I’m afraid that Zeus won’t have me back… up there,” he admits.
“Why is it made of onyx? What use is that?” I ask him, still puzzled by the object.
“That’s another one of Zeus’ little lessons. I’m not supposed to know when I die. That’s the point. That’s why I didn’t go after your mother. When I’m in the mortal world… I age like a mortal but faster. The mortal body and my godly powers don’t mesh so well,” he informs me, and I frown.
“I see… why wouldn’t Zeus let you back into the Higher Plains?” I ask him, and he shrugs.
“I don’t know. We’re not exactly close. He always hated me. So does Poseidon in all truth. I’ve never felt like a god, or like I want to rule. I just… wanted to be loved. I wanted to be happy. But when you’re born as a god, you’re stuck.” He looks sad, self-pitying almost.
“Well, I can see why you wouldn’t want to return if Zeus is anything like Hercules,” I comment, and he looks at me with curiosity.
“Not fond of your cousin?” he enquires, and I cock an eyebrow.
“I told him he needs a mental upgrade.” Haedes sputters in disbelief.
“I would have paid to see that. What did he say that warranted such accurate assessment?”
“He was bragging about being a Titan. Acting like me being a mortal made me slime off a slug or something…” I express, and he laughs, his expression infectious.
“Oh, that’s rich. He’s not a Titan, Sephy. He’s just like you. He’s still a demi-god. Lying little shit…” We stand, staring at each other, cast in the intermittent flickering shadow of the hourglass.
“So… demi-gods are immortal? I mean if he’s still part human, he must be…”
“Old enough to know better than to make a jackass of himself in front of family? You’d think so, but no. Hercules is a difficult pill to swallow. Then again, if I had Zeus for a father, I’d… well, I’d be drinking a lot more than I do now, if that’s possible.”
“Why?” I ask him, and he smirks.
“Zeus is a bastard and he won’t make him a Titan. He gave him this spiel about having to complete twelve labours. I mean he never thought Hercules would actually do it… but then, the boy proved him wrong. He’s far too valuable as half mortal, and he hates his father for it. You’re very much in the same boat too, now. I mean, Zeus would be mad to make you a Titan, I’m afraid that’s my fault. But, at least you have your immortality.” Haedes looks highly amused by the whole thing.
“So… I don’t understand… why is being half mortal valuable?” I ask him, and he runs a hand back through his hair, making it spiky and wild.
“Well, neither gods nor Titans can move freely between dimensions. The only way gods or Titans can move between the Higher Plains and the other dimensions; is if they’re put into a mortal body. Once they are trapped, they can’t return until their souls are set free through death of said mortal body.” He takes a sip of whisky, his gaze holding mine. “As a demi-god or a Kindred… well, you can travel freely through most dimensions. Hercules can frequent the Higher Plains, be it only temporarily and under the sanction of his father, as well as every other dimension, provided he has the means to get there. Gods can’t travel freely like that between dimensions, moving their life force across the walls weakens them a hell of a lot. It’s dangerous.” He shifts on his feet.
“I see. So… that’s why the Demon Lords want me?” I ask.
“I don’t know… I’m sorry. I wish I did. But I know that’s why The Fates are so shaken by this Chimera prophecy. Any being that is a Chimera of all souls, part god, demon, and mortal… well, it would be able to walk between all dimensions, all worlds. That’s why you might have noticed a certain lack of joy at the idea of you getting friendly with Xion.” He looks sad, causing me to feel ever so slight empathy for him.
“Well, they shouldn’t worry so much. Xion and I are just friends,” I insist, tired of people assuming otherwise, and he nods, cobalt eyebrows rising only slightly on his forehead.
“I see, well…” he begins, but I cut him off, deciding to change the subject. My personal life is nobody’s concern, especially not his.
“Do you miss it… The Higher Plains?” I enquire, my curiosity allowing me to push past the disturbing fact that I’m actually having a civil conversation with him. Something I never saw happening only this morning.
“No. I’m under a microscope up there with Poseidon and Zeus being so close. I would have been happy to stay here forever had your mother returned. I think we could have been happy. But instead, I’m… I’m stuck.” His predicament resonates with me.
“I understand that. My parents… they left me with a business empire, one which I have no desire to run,” I express and Haedes smiles.
“I am aware. I was the one who built it.”
I shrug.
“So… why are you showing me this?” I demand, and this time it is he who shrugs with a nonchalant and invisible mask slipping over his features.
“I just, I want you to know I’m not invincible. I have shit to lose. I feel just like you. I don’t want you to think of me as some monster. I’m not. I really am quite useless at emotions. Your mother was the only person ever to get that out of me, and now she’s gone… I can’t… I don’t want to get attached like that again. I might die, or the other person might die… I don’t think I can go through that kind of loss again and survive.” He confesses this to me, and I frown a moment, cocking my head, my face cast in shadow as I look down at my feet, heart racing at his words. It’s familiar, too familiar.
“Me too,” I admonish, knowing now that we’re far more similar than I’d ever expected.
Damn it.
Chapter Nineteen
Boogie Shoes
LUCE
“You alright, baby? You seem rather distracted…” Thane coaxes me as the carriage we’re inside quakes with the uneven pacing of the horses pulling it. The driver is clearly new.
“I’m fine… just thinking about last night,” I admit, adjusting my horns on the top of my head. My meeting with the fates had been concerning if not a little disappointing. The prophecy, which they have connected with Haedes’ daughter, speaks of a being that will be part mortal, part demon and part
god. Meaning it can walk between all dimensions in both the higher and lower plains, putting everyone at its mercy. Other than this, Layla, Moira and Anya had no more information to give, seeming weary to say the least.
I’m wearing midnight blue today and find myself kind of disheartened at the fact I’m heading back to the grind. Last night was supposed to be fun, but for some reason I’ve ended up more stressed than before the event, and to top it off, it’s Monday damn morning and I’m anticipating a mountain of paperwork. Especially seeing as how there was that cruise ship which mysteriously vanished in the Pacific over the weekend. “You’re sure you didn’t see anything suspicious?” I ask her once more, my anxiety surrounding the situation mounting more than is probably appropriate. I don’t know, for some reason I just can’t stand the thought of Haedes having yet another relationship implode in his face. I mean, it’s totally his fault, but I doubt he’ll see it that way, and it’s doing him no good being so isolated.
“I’m sure. I mean, there was a spark shower, so I couldn’t hang around for that long, but it seems pretty quiet around there to be honest.” Thane reaches across the space between us and takes my long fingers in hers, squeezing gently and running her rough thumb across the back of my knuckles.
She’s dressed in a tight velvet indigo suit with a matching top hat adorning her head decorated with a plume of raven feathers. A white blouse hangs off her edgy frame with ruffled cuffs and collar, and an enormous sapphire brooch that dangles over her heart. She’s beautiful, as always, and I can’t help but stare.
“Here at last,” she murmurs, clearly agitated by the new driver too. She opens the door and we step out, matching in deep blue hues, and onto the dark soil soaked in both ichor and blood. We stand now in the convergence of the Sanguine Forest and the Plains of Ichor, the mass graveyard Golgotha, where doppelganger bodies are born from the earth. I let my gaze fall on the enormous torch which lies central to it all in the distance, burning bright blue and providing the spark of resurrection for all the doppel bodies waiting to rise beneath the dirty concoction of red and white fluids.
The Opal Blade (The Ashen Touch Trilogy Book 1) Page 27