Chapter 18 Wrath
WRATH
Her eyes were closed when we arrived, her hand still clamped tightly on my arm like she might fly away.
I studied her face as I waited for her to look at me, as I waited for her to find the courage to see the world she’d asked me to show her. Her eyes finally opened, but the first thing she looked at was me.
Now I stood in my uniform and armor, the heavy two-handed blade across my back, the black steel forged in the black flames of the underworld. Bahamut had carried it before me, a sword that lived thousands of years. I stepped back to give her space to see the room.
She surveyed the dark walls with the sconces that contained wax candles.
Then she looked at the bed against the wall and the dark headboard that looked like it was carved out of a slippery rock.
There was a dresser, also black, along with an armchair and a mantel over a fireplace.
An ordinary bedroom, except it had no color.
Every time I came here from the mortal world, it took me a moment to get used to the lackluster appearance.
I watched her take it all in, examine a low-burning candle in one of the sconces before she looked at the four-poster bed carved out of rock by slaves. “This is your room.”
“Yes.” Where I bedded women I didn’t care for.
Women with hearts full of evil. I felt disgusted in that moment, remembering those interactions in the presence of a woman who had a heart of gold.
Somehow I felt like I’d betrayed her when those transgressions had happened before she came to my island in the sea.
“But you don’t sleep.” She turned back to me.
“I use it for privacy. Either as a reprieve from the calamity of this place…or for company.” I felt guilty for sharing that part of my life, but I couldn’t lie to her.
She didn’t seem bothered by it, and she looked around the room again.
“Privacy is a luxury here. Because we don’t sleep, many inhabitants don’t have private bedchambers. So they’re always surrounded by the cacophony of screams and madness. While I’m in here, I have a retreat.”
She crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at the cold fireplace.
I let her take it in for another moment before I headed to the double doors of my bedchambers and stepped into the hallway. The second we did, a scream issued from another part of the castle, one packed with fear and pain like they were in the throes of being tortured.
Lily came to an instant halt when she heard it, a natural reaction for someone unfamiliar with this place.
I continued on, moving down the long hallway with the sconces on either side, the chandelier that hung from the dark ceiling holding a sea of candles that were constantly replaced to keep this place aglow.
The hallway exited into the throne room, an enormous chair carved out of dark wood, the image of skeletons holding up the chair. It was made for a demon more than a man, so it was naturally too small for me.
She stopped and stared at it, taking in the grotesque imagery used by the artist and the slaves who’d sculpted it. “Is this yours?”
“Yes.”
She stared at it for a moment longer before she gave a nod.
We were about to leave the hallway when one of the servants came by, carrying a silver tray with a bowl in the center.
With a back broken in many places, he was bent so far forward that his eyes naturally faced the ground, always almost dropping the tray in his hand.
He wheezed when he breathed, like the shape of his spine made it hard for him to pull air into his bent lungs.
Lily didn’t make a sound, but she stepped back and stiffened like she was afraid.
“Your Highness,” he said in greeting as he passed.
I ignored him.
Lily stepped farther back as he approached, being as still as possible, as if she feared he would notice her even though she was invisible to this world. She even tried not to breathe, because when he passed, she gasped for air.
“They can neither see nor hear you, Xivin.”
“I know. I just…forgot.”
I took her through the castle, showed her the artwork made by someone so long ago that no one knew the artist. Passed other servants and other creatures that occupied the underworld.
There were so many other places to see, but the castle was enormous, and she already had a grasp of what it contained.
We stepped outside into the courtyard, and the first thing she did was look at the sky.
Nothing but darkness.
There were wisps of clouds level with the castle, condensation that came from the dampness of the trees in the woods. Everything was dead here, but death grew like it had its own life.
“Xian is a mirror image of the mortal world,” I said. “It’s hard to see because it looks so different, but it’s the same. The land and the sea.”
She slowly turned to me, taking longer to process all this than she normally would.
It was as if her responses were delayed because of the potency of the constant night.
Her eyes had a glaze, like her mortal eyes couldn’t quite process the sight before her.
“You said there’s beauty in this place…if you look hard enough. ”
I held her gaze for a moment before I stepped forward, taking the steps down to the next level of the castle.
She walked with me, slightly behind, and then we heard another scream that sounded more like a howl coming from somewhere in the castle.
She whipped back to look, like she might see something.
I waited for her to look at me again, seeing her standing in her queen’s uniform and her armor, too good for this place.
She turned back to me, and it was the only time she showed me fear. Real, raw, unadulterated fear. “How does this place work?”
“We serve the Covenant, all in different ways. Some extract souls from the newcomers to maintain the power of the underworld. Some serve them directly to the Covenant, who run this place. Others are tormented slaves for monsters with higher statuses. Some are psychopaths so untouched by misery that they’re completely unaffected by the horrors of this place.
To them, it’s home. And there are some mortals down here… willingly.”
She took all this in with eyes that remained fearful. “If the Covenant didn’t receive the souls, what would happen to them?”
“They’d grow weak and eject into the void.”
“So if you were to starve them, they would die…or eject, and you would be free.”
Every time she broached this topic, she pained me.
Pained me more than she could ever possibly understand.
Especially when she wouldn’t lift a finger to help me if she knew how I’d betrayed her.
I wanted to confess my treason, but if I did, she wouldn’t accept my gifts or help…
and she might not survive this war. It had to wait until she’d conquered her enemies and peace prevailed for the Southern Isles and her family. “It’s much more complicated than that.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re demons. Strong, powerful demons. Far more powerful than I am. The second I refused to feed their hunger, I would be thrown into the void. They would have to starve for a substantial amount of time before they grew weak enough to be overpowered.”
Her disappointment was as thick as a cloud of fog that moved over her eyes.
“Don’t pity me, Xivin.”
She looked away as she took a pained breath.
“Never forget that I chose this. That the decision wasn’t made under duress or misinformation. I had my full faculties when I agreed.”
She gave a slight shake of her head, her eyes still on the stone beneath her feet. “Do you regret it?”
A complicated question with an even more complicated answer.
I’d never told her the tale of how I’d come to be here, and she respected my boundaries enough never to ask.
Anya wasn’t the subject that was hard to discuss—but my Tiberius and Darius were.
I was doomed to be a grieving father for the rest of my existence. “I did at one time…but not anymore.”
She seemed to compose herself enough before she turned back to look at me.
“Not after I found you.”
Quicker than I could snap my fingers, her eyes watered, as if her emotions were always on the edge, just a moment from tipping over. “There has to be a way,” she said with a sniff. “There just has to be.”
I couldn’t comfort her, not here, not when I didn’t know who may be watching. “This isn’t the time or place for this.” I turned my back on her and continued forward, coldly dismissing her because it would be the quickest way to calm her down.
A minute later, she caught up to me, walking at my side until our boots left the stone and felt the damp soil beneath our feet. There was no rain or snow here, no weather, but it was always damp and cold, like we’d all just missed the downpour.
I guided her down the dirt path between the dead oaks until we reached the next clearing—the funnel. Monsters and servants were gathered around, talking among themselves, one shoving another in the chest in an argument…or for no reason at all.
I stopped beside her.
Lily looked at the altar made out of stone in the center. “What is this?” she whispered.
“You’ll see.” We stood in silence among the others of Xian, and then a moment later, a blue light appeared from the sky. Slowly, a body hovered as it descended, arms floating at the man’s sides, his body stiff like he was dead rather than asleep.
In silence, Lily watched, horrified.
The body came to a soft landing on the rock, and then the light disappeared. Before the man even had a chance to wake up, he was rushed by the audience, who started to tug on his arms and legs.
His mouth opened in horror, and then he screamed as he was dragged to the ground, crooked monsters fighting for the newest addition to Xian. Some wanted him as a worker and others a private servant. And some of them…who knew.
“Do you know him?” she asked as she watched him be dragged back toward the castle.
“Yes. He made a deal for his soul, and now it’s time to collect.”
“Do you ever…feel bad about it?”