Chapter 31
Cat
There was a box in my hands. Just big enough to hold a book. As old as the unfamiliar house around me. The old mahogany dug into my hands, sturdier than it had any right to be, no chips or worn patches, only the blood that seeped from one corner, dripping down the ghostly white of my nightgown.
I couldn’t let it go. I had to hold onto this box forever.
Don’t drop it, don’t you dare fucking drop it, this is the heart of the man you love.
A droplet of blood hung from the edge of the box and my heart stuttered as I watched it, knowing I was running out of time. I had to return it so he couldn’t control him.
“Control him,” I echoed my thoughts, confusion digging into my brow, pulling my lips down.
“That’s how the siblings forced him to join their charade,” an unfamiliar female voice said, and I turned on the spot, startling when Hunger’s showroom-tidy house shifted into the dark opulence of Darkmore Manor.
But it wasn’t Cruelty who stood in a shaft of moonlight beneath the glass roof of the conservatory, scowling at a red-veined black vine as it brushed her arm.
Every plant in here spelled death; would I watch the slow suffering and inevitable passing of this woman?
I clutched the mahogany box closer to my chest, a protective growl shuddering up my throat.
“The heart,” she said, nodding at the box in my hand. “It’s how they controlled him. You need to get it from Violence and return it to its rightful owner, or everything you’ve done these few days will be for naught.”
“Who are you?” It was hard to get my eyes to focus, but I thought I glimpsed long dark hair brushed to a tangle-free perfection, skin the colour of a snow, and big eyes that narrowed in anger as she stared at the box in my hand.
I’d held it before, hadn’t I? It felt familiar enough to horrify me, but I couldn’t remember why I was so afraid of it. Except…
This is the heart of the man you love.
“It’s not seriously a heart,” I said, staring at the woman. Not physically intimidating and yet… she had presence, and it tangled my stomach in nerves. “Right?”
“Not this one, obviously,” she replied, drifting a few steps closer. “This is a manifestation of your thoughts, with a little help from me. But you need to find this box outside your dreams.”
I blinked at the small box, at the blood leaking down my dress. Something told me it was a heart, but I wasn’t too keen to lift the lid and find out for sure.
“A little help from you,” I echoed, meeting the woman’s big blue eyes. “You hijacked my dream. Have you done this before?”
Did you know me before? Are we friends? Enemies? Frenemies?
“Not with any success,” she replied, her mouth twisted into a moue of irritation. “Listen to me.”
I jumped when she came closer and grabbed my arm. She looked so insubstantial in the ray of moonlight that I hadn’t expected her to feel real, but it was a genuine hand wrapped around my arm. Dry and cool and urgent.
“Violence is putting plans in place. He knows you’re trying to claim the domain’s magic, and he’ll do everything in his power to stop you. And he has a lot of power. He wants to be ruler of the gods, even if that means murdering all the current gods and starting again with a new pantheon.”
“Jesus,” I breathed, cold running down my spine.
“Yes, pray. We’ll need every bit of assistance we can get.”
“Who are you?” I demanded, trying to extricate my arm without dropping the box, but she held on like a very insistent barnacle. “Why does this affect you at all?”
She made a throaty sound, dark with…rage. My magic perked up, sensing injustice and rage and a thirst for revenge. Interesting. “That pox-infested spitter murdered my family. Him, and his cunt sister.”
“Wow.” I blinked, stunned by her obscenity. She was so ethereal and composed, I wasn’t prepared to hear the C word come from her rosebud lips.
“Thank you,” she quipped, releasing my wrist. “Now listen closely. Your path will intersect with that of my sister.”
“Oh. I thought you were ancient,” I said, and wondered if I ought to be fighting her. She’d hijacked my dream, after all. But this didn’t feel like an attack so much as a visit from a saint with essential advice.
“I am.”
“But you have a sister who’s living…”
“She’s immortal. It’s not relevant.”
“Wait.” I held up the box in lieu of my hand. “Your sister is a death god?”
“I didn’t say that. My brother is a death god. No one truly knows what my youngest sister is. She ought to be dead, but a higher power took mercy on her and allowed her to live in secret. But didn’t I tell you to listen closely?”
I wasn’t going to apologise, but I did nod.
“You need to find the blue house; you’ll know it when you see it. It’s in the village at the base of Death’s castle. Find my sister and tell her her daughter is in danger, and you need her help. She might shut the door on your face, just ignore that.”
“Look. I’m sure this is important, but my husband is fading, the realm’s shifting more towards Violence’s control everyday, and I have a to-do list to tick off. I don’t have time for any more side quests. I’m sorry.”
The woman made a sound in the back of her throat. “You’re no use. And after I helped you take down Cruelty. Well, I contributed and your father finished the job. You still have my pen, I assume.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Someone told me it was my pen.” If Tor had lied to me… I didn’t want to think about that. It hurt too much.
“It is now.” She waved a hand. “It used to be mine. Just hold onto it. And visit my sister, she’ll help you take down Violence once she knows he’s got her daughter.”
I thought of that small, cold room, the ropes, the smile on Violence’s face as he beat me. He’d taken someone else captive… But Death needed me, and the domain was falling, and it was bad enough that Tor had made us sleep the night away when we could have been riding to the next stone circle.
So I bit back my sympathy and said, “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
The woman threw up her hands. “You’re not listening to me. This is how we win, this is how we kill him, do you understand?”
But darkness ate into the vision of the deadly plants, the moonbeams, and the woman, and when I blinked next I was in Hunger’s guest bedroom, my heart drumming, breathing loud and quick.
And it occurred to me that she never answered my question. She never told me her name.