by Lily Velez
I picked up one of the framed pictures, my eyes combing over each man’s face until I found Maurice. His face was gaunt, his eyes perfecting the thousand-yard stare. I couldn’t imagine the horrors he’d witnessed. More than ever, I was relieved that his soul now knew nothing but perfect peace.
Setting the picture down, I turned to Jack. “Remember what you told me, that my battles are your battles? It goes both ways. I’m not going to let you do this alone.”
“The Otherworld is dangerous, Scarlet.”
Even now, I still savored the sound of my name in his mouth, the way his lilt made it sound like poetry. “I think we both can agree I’ve seen my fair share of ‘dangerous’ lately. Whatever’s waiting for us on the other side of this, I can face it. I know you’re only trying to protect me, and I appreciate that. But if I were to stay on the sidelines out of fear, how could I possibly still call myself a Daughter of Brigid? I know that being without magic means I’m hardly a witch, but—”
“Magic isn’t what makes a witch, Scarlet,” Jack said, frowning. “It never has been. Being a witch has only ever meant recognizing the sacred power that’s within you.”
“Exactly. Power.”
“Not that kind of power. Not exclusively. I’m talking about the power that comes from understanding that you’re a divine part of a divine creation. The power that comes from being one with nature and respecting every living thing no matter how great or small.
“Being a witch is whispering to the wild and stilling yourself long enough to hear it reply. It's pausing to gaze up at the full moon as you reach out your hands to feel its energy. It’s spreading love and living in peace and being of service to others by standing up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. It's being who you truly are without apology and reclaiming your birthright to practice whatever you choose when so many who came before us were persecuted and unable to do so. Above all, it's feeling the pull of a sacred, ancient part of you, and answering its summons. It's the answering it that, above all, makes you a witch. Never forget that.”
He couldn’t possibly know how much the words heartened me. I offered him a soft smile. “And this is me answering a new summons,” I told him. “Magic or no magic, I have to go to the Otherworld.”
Jack released a longsuffering sigh, but he didn’t argue further. He only reached across the short distance separating us and took my hand, running his thumb across my knuckles. His face was solemn, his eyes worlds away and impossible to read.
I wanted to fill the heavy silence with words, something comforting perhaps, or better yet, an amusing quip to lighten the mood, but Jack seemed content to simply stand there holding my hand. I couldn’t help but feel as if he were silently sending a prayer to the gods, asking that it wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to.
It wasn’t long before Jack and I stood before the borders of a symbol drawn onto the floor of one of Crowmarsh’s many living spaces, a symbol I recognized all too well. Rory had recreated the demon’s mark from Jack’s wrist. As many times as I’d seen it, it still made my spine shudder.
“If the apex of the mark faces north,” Jack explained, “it summons the demon to you. But if the apex faces south, it works in reverse, bringing you to their side.”
“Where will we end up once it’s all said and done?” I asked.
“There’s no way to tell,” Jack said. “We can only hope it brings us somewhere discreet, where we can remain undetected. After that, we’ll make our way out of the forsaken lands to the abode of the gods, where The Eternal Flame was supposedly returned after Sétna used it.”
In theory, the plan seemed simple enough, but I kept thinking about what Connor had said about Jack being around demons and their dark magic. How long would it take us to journey out of the forsaken lands and therefore out of demonic reach? Too long? Anxiety made my chest tight; it bubbled hot in my stomach until I thought I might be sick.
Jack snapped his fingers, setting the lines of the demon’s mark ablaze. He offered me his hand, and I took it, our fingers interlocking. The heat from the fire made my skin flush. I focused on my breathing, my head already beginning to spin.
Jack looked over his shoulder at his brothers, holding them in his line of sight for a long moment before he nodded to Connor. “We’ll be back soon.”
“We’ll be waiting,” Connor replied. But his penetrating eyes also said, Be careful and Watch your back and You damn well better make it out of this alive, or I’ll kill you myself.
Facing the demon’s mark again, Jack spoke a few brief words in the same tongue Alistair had employed. It sounded like a command, the words leaving his mouth with firmness. Though he wasn’t fluent in the language of demons, he knew enough to make use of his own mark. The fire flared, its flames doubling in size as the final word poured out of Jack.
The magic was quicker than I’d anticipated. One moment, there was nothing, and in the next, a cyclone of wind tore through the living space, the flames growing taller, dancing wildly. Framed paintings clattered against the walls. Furniture toppled over with loud thuds. The floor beneath us trembled as if the earth itself was spasming.
Then, in a flash of dazzling light, all of it was sucked away in a void of blackness. Total consumption. The magic had cancelled out Jack’s brothers, Crowmarsh, everything. We existed in a space of nothingness, only the wind remaining, blazing past us in shrieks. I held onto Jack’s hand, gripping it so tight I was surprised I didn’t break bone.
The dark was absolute and unyielding. It was like being underwater, the stillness and silence overwhelming, pressing into you on all sides. I was terrified that something had gone horribly wrong, my breaths barely coming to me.
But then a world began to materialize around us. It took form in stages. First came the lights, dim and shapeless, like a blur of headlights on a midnight road. The smells arrived afterward, the stench a mix of wet animals and bitter, fermenting things. It was followed by loud and boisterous conversation, a dozen different dialogues happening at the same time, like stepping into a busy restaurant and not being able to differentiate one voice from another.
The funnel of wind spinning around us finally died down, and when it did, the world receiving us finally solidified into what was clearly some kind of tavern. Heads turned in our direction in groups until it wasn’t long, only seconds, before we commanded the attention of everyone present.
At first, I almost breathed a sigh of relief. The patrons closest to us looked human.
But as I studied them further, I saw that their eyes were very much unhuman. Because no human I knew had crimson swirling around their pupils. I looked past them and saw other things too, other creatures, those with scales and wings, those with talons, those with hairless skin as black as oil.
My stomach dropped to my knees.
We’d landed in the very center of a most ungodly gathering.
A gathering of demons.
12
Scarlet
“Let me go!” I struggled between two demons as they pulled me along a dark, wet corridor that reeked of sewage. The soles of my boots skidded across the slippery stone floor as I tried to find traction.
“Scarlet!” Jack was in front of me, thrashing against his own set of captors. It took half a dozen demons to restrain him.
“I’m all right,” I called back, even as my heart hammered against my chest. If he thought they were hurting me, he’d only struggle further, and I feared the kind of force they’d use then.
“Where are you taking us?” I asked the demons gripping my arms. I was pretty sure they were drawing blood. I’d no doubt have red bands on my skin that would later bruise. I ignored the pain in an attempt to get my navigational bearings should there be a chance to escape later. We’d already ascended several flights of stone, spiral staircases, and now we progressed through a maze of shadowy halls illuminated only by the occasional torch against a wall.
“To see our liege.”
My heart stalled. The Dark Lord. Th
ey were bringing us straight to him. Jack had told me the name Balor came from one of the Dark Lord’s many incarnations. I wondered which incarnation would greet us now. The vilest of them all?
I dug my heels in, throwing my weight back. The demon on my left growled, his talons tightening around my upper arm so that I felt the pinch of them as if I’d been pricked by needles.
“Don’t make this difficult, witch,” the demon spat, imbuing that final word with poison. “Move.”
When I didn’t immediately obey, the demon growled and kicked the backs of my knees, bringing me to the ground hard. Shooting pain throbbed in my kneecaps, leaving me incapacitated long enough for the demons to drag me along between them. A few moments later, I scrambled back to my feet and did my best to keep pace with them, but my mind was elsewhere.
We needed to get out of here. Flexing my hands, I urged my Mastery to come forth—only to be met with the gut-punching reminder that I no longer had any magic to call upon. Nor did I have the Hallowstone to enhance my powers. As much as I wanted to reduce our demon captors to cinders, I wouldn’t be able to, and my heartbeats made thunderous pounds against my chest in response.
We entered through a set of the tallest doors I’d ever seen, guards in armor stationed on each side. Beyond the threshold was a room made entirely of obsidian, its interior so cavernous I wondered if it was carved out of a mountain. I craned my neck back. The ceiling was fashioned out of glass, and red blazes steaked across the starless sky, as if a volcano had newly erupted.
Up ahead, upon a dais, sat a throne as black as the room it occupied. The designs of its sides and back were strange, like the twisting, gnarled roots of a dying tree. It made me think of the tree at Uisneach.
A figure sat in shadows upon the throne, and my pulse spiked.
The Dark Lord.
I couldn’t bear to look at him and immediately diverted my gaze.
When we were still several yards from the dais, my captors shoved me to the ground, where I remained on my hands and knees, as if prostrating before their king. Jack was beside me, his eyes quickly scanning me for any sign of injury.
“Your highness,” one of the demons said. “These two witches materialized in the servants’ dining hall. What would you have us do with them?”
I kept my head bowed, my eyes riveted to the floor. I didn’t hear approaching footsteps, and yet a moment later, there was a presence right before me, so close I could’ve reached out and touched the hem of his garment.
Silence.
I could hear only the bassline of my own erratic heart.
I realized the sovereign of this land was waiting for me to acknowledge him, that I’d only further earned his scorn by refusing to meet his gaze. Swallowing the knot in my throat, I tilted my head back slowly and dared to behold him.
I gasped.
Because it wasn’t some terrible, beastly incarnation that stood in front of me. It was someone else entirely. A crown sat at a defiant angle upon his head, upon hair as dark as midnight, and in the flickering firelight, his garnet eyes seemed to dance, wisps of black smoke wreathing around his frame.
“Hello, little witch,” he greeted with a smirk. “Did you miss me?”
13
Scarlet
“I’m confused on so many levels right now.”
Kai? I could only stare at him, my thoughts racing. Even once he’d excused the guards, even when it was just the three of us occupying the monstrously spacious throne room, still no words would come to me.
Kai was outfitted in regal wardrobe from another era, every article of clothing as black as shadows. Only his lopsided crown and his chain of office lent color to the ensemble, blue emeralds, pearls, and rubies glistening in the firelight of what had to be a thousand black candles, candles that floated midair all around us. Their trembling flames cast us in ever-shifting shadows.
Somehow, their warmth didn’t reach me. There was a chill in the air that was impossible to shake.
My thoughts circled back to the first time I’d seen Kai. He’d been dressed this exact same way when he’d materialized in The Black Hand’s prison, crown and all. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, nor had I spared a thought over it since. I probably should have.
“You’re one of the Dark Lord’s incarnations?” I asked, unable to speak above a whisper as I tried to control my hiccupping heart.
“My word,” Kai said, hands clasped behind his back. His trademark smoke danced around him in ribbons. “Witching education these days really does leave something to be desired, doesn’t it? No, I’m not the Dark Lord.”
He’d said as much back in Dublin, but there were still things that didn’t make sense. “Those demons called you ‘your highness,’ though.”
“An astute observation.” He extended a hand to me, which I took after a moment’s hesitation, rising to my feet. Beside me, Jack rose as well.
Kai’s eyes raked me up and down, and I crossed my arms over myself, feeling exposed. “You’ve come into your own, little witch. I see you’ve discovered the truth of what you are. It becomes you.”
He circled around me like a vulture making loops in the sky over a fresh carcass, his brow slightly furrowed. “But there’s something amiss.” Pausing behind me, he brought his face close to my neck and took in a long inhale through his nose, breathing in the smell of me. There was a pregnant pause. I could almost feel the realization coming to him.
“Your magic,” he said, his warm breath dancing along my shoulder.
I pulled away from him. “Yes, it’s gone,” I snapped. I didn’t need him poking at a fresh wound. “You can blame one of your beloved ‘associates.’ He called himself Alistair. Ring any bells?”
Kai had the audacity to smirk, like it was all so very amusing. “Your first encounter with a Fomorian. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you rather enjoy amassing the worst kinds of enemies.”
“And are you an enemy?” I asked, feigning courage when my stomach was practically shuddering. “If the Dark Lord is the king of demons, then what does that make you exactly?”
“I suppose the proper term would be ‘prince.’”
“Prince? But wouldn’t that mean…?”
He smiled. It practically dripped with poison. “Yes, it would,” he said. “The Dark Lord is my father.”
My stomach lurched. My eyes shot to Jack, but he gave a quick, barely perceptible shake of his head, as if to assure me there was nothing to worry about. I wished I had his faith. Nothing to worry about? More like we had everything to worry about right now.
Three more blazes of fire soared past the glass ceiling panels. I followed their course until they disappeared out of sight, wondering how far they would travel and how vast the forsaken lands were. We needed only to find our way to the abode of the gods, and then we’d be safe. My eyes darted all over the throne room, trying to uncover an escape route.
“It’s quite the family affair really.” Kai was adjusting his gold chain of office, oblivious to my strategizing. “A prince for each kingdom.”
That yanked me out of my mind. “You mean you’re not the only one?” I nearly staggered back, a little lightheaded at the revelation. This time, when my eyes swept the room, they did so with the heart-quaking expectation that other demons with Kai’s power and influence were lurking in the shadows, ready to attack.
“Let’s be clear: I’m one of a kind. But yes, I’m afraid I do have siblings. There are several kingdoms in the forsaken lands after all. This one, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, is mine.”
Once again, I took in the Armageddon-like fire raining from the sky. “It’s…”
“A complete wasteland, yes,” Kai said. “But enough about me, as riveting a topic as I know it is for you. I’m far more interested in learning why my two favorite witches have landed themselves in my court.”
“We’re here to retrieve The Eternal Flame,” Jack said.
Kai’s eyes immediately sparked like a struck match.
&n
bsp; I threw an incredulous look Jack’s way. Was he out of his mind? Given what Kai had just revealed about his connection with the Dark Lord, disclosing our reasons for being here seemed an outstandingly horrible idea. But it’s precisely what Jack did, spending the next few minutes explaining the situation with Alistair and the Thirteen Seals.
“Alistair always has been a sycophant,” Kai said. “I suppose he’s of the mind this will curry favor with the appropriate parties Underneath. To be fair, it most assuredly will.” He lifted his hand as if to bring a glass of wine to his lips, except there wasn’t a glass there. At least there hadn’t been a second ago. A slender flute materialized out of thin air, filled three-quarters of the way with a dark burgundy liquid.
“Don’t worry,” Kai said, catching my look. “It’s not blood. It’s an 1853 Merlot. What can I say? I have a weakness for the finer things in life.”
“Do you know where The Eternal Flame is?” I asked, feeling very much like I was balancing on a tightrope.
“You have a lot of gall. Have you forgotten our little bargain? You owe me a favor. Not the other way around.”
I tamped down my frustration, fighting the urge to grit my teeth. “All right, fine. Then ask a favor of me right now.”
“Scarlet.” Jack grabbed the crook of my elbow. “Don’t.”
Kai’s garnet eyes gleamed with wicked delight, my acquiescence apparently the very thing he’d craved. It made me sick, but I held my chin up, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. Whatever needed to be done, I’d do it. Too much was on the line now.
“Well?” I pressed. “I’m sure you had plenty of ideas in mind when we first struck the bargain, so name your price. One way or another, I’m not leaving the Otherworld without The Eternal Flame.”
Kai’s eyes never left me, as if he were drinking me in, devouring the mere thought of whatever awful thing he was about to put me through. “Your arrival is fortuitous indeed. I have just the thing in mind.”