Ink of Copper

55. In Which We Learn Who Sings in the Gilded Cage

Chapter 55

In Which We Learn Who Sings in the Gilded Cage

The Shadow Realm

E llie landed on her knees for the second time. Unless she learned a different way to fall, she would end up bruised and achy. Valerius landed beside her, rising quickly.

“What was that?” she asked. Scratches and dirt covered her palms, and her knees were sore from where she landed. She rubbed them, easing the ache.

“Did you bleed?” Valerius grabbed her hand, jerking it.

“No.” She snatched her hand back.

“Siren,” he said as he turned his back and headed down the dimly lit corridor, his robe rippling with his movements. “We need to move. She won’t be able to follow us through the portal, but that won’t stop her from creating her own.” Marching away, he expected her to follow. She didn’t.

“No, I mean, what was she? Not who.”

Getting her bearings, she glanced around the hall. Unless dank caverns were a kingdom, she decided she must still be in the realm of the gods. But maybe not on Olympus. The stones surrounding her looked clean, as far as caves go. No slimy walls or moldy smells hanging in the air. And no creepy crawlies or bats. She really hated bats.

The walls were rocky but dry—a tunnel carved out of solid rock. They walked only briefly when the tunnel opened into a sizable room. Opposite them stood a massive wooden door, much like the doors in Max’s home. Different tunnels leading to other rooms in the cave shot off like spokes on a wheel. Valerius stood in the middle and looked over his shoulder. The floor was polished black stone surrounding an enormous circle inlay of white stone with flecks of black and gray in the rock. In the center of the circle lay more white stone, shaped like a musical instrument. The piece was horseshoe-shaped, with ends that curled back on themselves and strings coming from the top of the instrument to the bottom. Ellie cocked her head, trying to make out what it could be.

“A lyre,” he grunted, noticing her staring at the floor.

“Oh, yes,” she said, turning her head to get a better look. “I see that now.” She glanced up to find Valerius studying her. The ring of torches that stood at the entrance of each tunnel illuminated his face. Those glowing blue eyes narrowed, and his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“What was that creature?”

His face pinched as if her mere presence was an irritation to him. He shook his head. “Siren,” he repeated, this time enunciating every syllable as if she were an idiot.

Ellie huffed and crossed her arms. “No,” she snapped, mimicking his tone. “I know her name is Syren. I asked what she was.”

Valerius cocked his head sharply. “No.” He mimicked her. “Her name is Callassa. She is a siren. Queen, if you want to get technical. Although she isn’t much of one now.”

He flicked his hand at her, and she bristled. Penn made a similar gesture to her often. She wasn’t about to be dismissed.

“Syren is her name, ” Ellie argued.

“Siren is her species ,” he spat at her.

“Syren? Syren is a siren?” She felt a little breathless as the understanding of what he was saying hit her. With her hand on her heart, her eyes darted around the room. Weren’t sirens ruthless? That’s what Camulos had said. They showed no mercy and were cunning tricksters. Although, that evening Syren had stood and argued with Cam had left her wondering.

“A siren. A real siren,” she murmured.

They had formed a friendship, sat together, and laughed together. Surely, she couldn’t be the worst of Olympus. And yet, her friend had traded her for a glass ball filled with icy death.

“Oh, fuck Zeus,” Valerius groaned. “You aren’t going to faint, are you? Please tell me the mighty Serathena isn’t going to pass out. What did you think she was? Some human who enjoyed fucking Athena’s lapdogs? Present company excluded.”

She glared at him, but he continued. “I have to hand it to her; Callassa is a master at her craft. She had every one of you fooled.” He turned, his boots clicked across the floor as he crossed the inlay of the lyre.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised; it isn’t as if you haven’t seen some weird shit the last few weeks,” he said over his shoulder. “Come along, little human, we haven’t got all day.”

Ellie shook her head and marched behind him. “I wasn’t going to faint, you jerk. It shocked me, is all.”

Spinning on his heel, his robe swished in a black cloud around him. “Oh, jerk!” His sarcastic tone made her grind her teeth. He put a hand to his chest and mocked her accent. “I dunno what we’ll do with that salty language, miss. Reckon we’ll need ta wait till the elders hear bout this.”

Clenching her fists, she winced when her nails dug into her palm.

Don’t get into a pissing match with a deranged demigod.

Biting back a retort, she stormed past him and that smirk he wore. Trying to focus on where she was and how to get home, she glanced around.

“I suppose this is your evil lair? Homey.”

“It certainly has that bad boy flair.”

Annoyed, she crossed her arms, intent on smarting off again, when she felt a slight breeze on her legs. Her bare legs. Her bare legs and bare feet. She had stolen Evander’s shirt so she could return to her room, figuring she’d only wear it a few feet. Little did she know she would be kidnapped and traded like a baseball card. She was about to enter an evil lair half-dressed and utterly bare-assed underneath. One wrong move and anyone and everyone would get a show of her lady bits. Heat crawled up her neck, and she knew her face was turning red. She tugged at the hem, wishing it was longer. Her sudden discomfort seemed to amuse Valerius, and the smile on his lips gave her the impression he knew why.

“Something wrong, little human?”

“I’m not dressed for a kidnapping, so—”

Snapping his fingers, he huffed and rolled his eyes. Looking down, she smoothed her hands over the chiton that appeared. Reaching up, her fingers danced over two metal clasps that held the dress together at her shoulders. She turned one pin to look at the emblem in the middle. It was black with gold trim and a white lyre made of the same stone as the floor in the middle. Gold cords crisscrossed her chest, came around her waist, tying in a knot in the front, the tassels falling to her knees. But the most impressive was her unruly hair tied back and off her neck. Ellie reached up to find a cord woven through, like that first night when Syren had fixed her hair.

“There,” Valerius said, proud of his handy work. “Much more fitting of a Serathena than those ridiculous dresses you usually wear.”

She bristled again and opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand.

“At least you won’t walk into my throne room in your lover’s clothes.” He winked at her, and she curled her lip in disgust. “I must admit, after having you in my bed, I’d be hard thinking about you wearing my clothes.” He sniffed the air. “Gods, your scent is intoxicating.” He sniffed again, and she stepped back as he wrinkled his nose. “Except you smell like sex and Evan. Callassa delivered better than I expected. She got you to fuck him. But gods, his scent is all over you, mingling with yours.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I can see why he risked everything to take you to bed. I’d never be able to concentrate if that intoxicating aroma surrounded me all day. At some point, I, too, would bend you over the nearest table and fuck you until you couldn’t walk.” His eyes flashed, and she gagged.

Valerius continued. “Tell me, Serathena , how was he?”

Pursing her lips, Ellie refused to answer. Refused to give him the satisfaction of whatever game he was playing. She glared and shook her head.

“Oh, come on, it’s just us girls.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he crossed his arms. “We all know it’s been a while for the poor man, although rumor has it, he’s never had a woman in his bed. Is the rumor true? Did he fumble around? I bet you taught him a thing or two, didn’t you? A woman like you, married before, lonely, looking for a big muscular man like him. I bet you showed him the proper use of that twig he carries. Tell me, did he get the job done? Or did you have to rub one out after he fell asleep?” He stepped close to her, lowering himself to eye level. “Was he worth it? Need me to pick up where he left off?”

Ellie’s hand swung before she registered it had moved. When her palm connected with his cheek, the smack sounded like a gunshot in the empty room. Valerius stood still momentarily, stunned or contemplating blasting her into pieces; she wasn’t sure which. She scurried backwards, shaking her head, her hands up in surrender.

“I’m—I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she squeaked out, retreating further.

Valerius exploded, slamming her into the wall. His fingers dug into her shoulders, holding her high off the ground where only the tips of her toes touched. His nostrils flared as he snorted, holding back from tearing her limb from limb. Those fiery blue eyes flamed, dancing with malice.

“You get one,” he snarled behind gritted teeth.

Shoving her against the wall to drive the point home, he let her go. She dropped back to her feet, and her fingers clutched the stone, trying to keep herself upright as her knees buckled. If she hadn’t been terrified of Valerius before, she was now. He retreated, turning his back and making fists. Fury breathed around him like tendrils of dark shadows straining to break free. Several silent moments passed, his back to her when he waved his hand towards the wooden doors.

“Shall we, little human?”

“Do I have a choice?” Her voice sounded small.

“No.”

The doors swung open, and the sound that greeted them anchored her to the floor. Screeches of every decimal and octave poured out, flooding the room like a tidal wave of piercing shrieks. Ellie turned to run.

“Oh no, you don’t.” He snatched her upper arm. “I won you in a trade. You’re mine, little human. Fair and square.”

“Fair and square?” she snapped back, struggling against him, digging her heels into the glistening stone floor. “Whatever was in that orb you tricked Syren with—er, the siren? Wait, her name is Syren, and she is a siren?”

Turning his head, he exhaled loudly. “Her name is Callassa, and she’s a siren. Callassa, Queen of the Sirens.”

“Well, whoever she is, she wasn’t too happy you screwed her.” Jerking herself back, she broke a nail on a rock that she tried to grasp as he marched forward.

Tightening his hold, he shrugged. “Not her kind, but I have had my fair share of nymphs. Although I prefer a woman who knows what she’s doing.”

“In any case, you tricked her.” A stroke of bravery struck her. “You couldn’t even do the job yourself. Some kidnapper you are. Had to send in a woman to do the job for you, just like an incompetent man.”

He yanked hard on her arm, and she slammed against him. “I tried, but your captors held you under lock and key.” A grimace twisted his lips. “Oh, little human didn’t know, did she? All that magic, and you still don’t know how to wield it properly. Camulos put a cloaking protection around the house. No one could get in or out without him feeling it. They locked you up, little human. I hear you don’t particularly like that. I take it you didn’t know he could do that. That it was Evander’s idea? Why do you think they allowed you to train in that house? Did you think they were really giving you a choice? It was so they could come up with a plan. A plan for what to do with the powerful little human.”

Turning his head from side to side, he judged her reaction. She refused to allow him to see the fear rising in her at the thought that Evander had locked her up after knowing what Penn had done to her.

“No one could breach the barrier, not even me. And trust me, little human, I tried. But fortunately, I had someone already under his protection. Already inside. Someone who could bring you to me without raising alarms.”

She jerked her head before he saw the panic in her eyes. Intent on walking over the threshold, he pulled her towards the wooden doors. She tried to grab hold of the door, refusing to march quietly into a room teaming with hell daemons.

“Let me go.” Ellie’s voice broke as she tried to twist her arm free. Valerius looked annoyed as he tightened his grip, waiting for her to stop struggling. Afraid, her mind swirled with the idea that she had been a prisoner. A prisoner who slept with her warden. The fight suddenly gone, she walked into the room and down a marble aisle towards a massive throne. Narrow braziers encompassing each of the ten onyx columns lit up most of the hall and engulfed everything in a flickering radiance of dancing light. Intricately carved woodwork hung from massive chains from the domed ceiling, caught the candlelight. Between each column stood tall white marble depictions of daemons, monsters, and other devilish beings. A smooth ebony pathway split the room in half, leading straight to the throne. Banners of black and silver that were once grand, now torn or swung from one hook circled the room—between each banner hung smaller chandeliers with six candles each. Not a single candle was lit, and shadows cast by the four mammoth chandeliers that hung above the runway left the statues of daemons and monsters swathed in half-light.

The throne sat on a broad platform with another throne of equal size next to it. To one side was a smaller version, perfect for the little daemon occupying it. She suspected the chair in the center of the platform was for Valerius. It looked like him in every way, if one could turn a person into a chair. The back of the chair was a carved lion’s head with two rubies for eyes. Under the lion was the same symbol of the lyre as the hallway, black with white stone. The entire throne, possibly made of onyx or obsidian, seemed carved from stone. The arms, expertly cut and polished, had claws at the ends and curved under into fists. Supporting the chair were two lions with open mouths. But it was the second throne that caught her attention. Like his, it was large and imposing but made of gilded wood. It had a red velvet cushion and back with carvings of winged daemons along the sides. At the top, two daemons perched on either side, wings opened, peering down at the occupant. The arms and legs had carvings of various winged creatures that wrapped around and encircled the bottom.

A throne fit for a hellish queen .

Daemons from each side of the room came to stand along the aisle, cheering triumphantly at the processional of their leader and his prisoner. Some flapped their wings and hopped from foot to foot, excitedly clapping their clawed hands. Holding her head high, she squared her shoulders, refusing to show them fear. No one was coming; she had to be brave.

As they approached the set of thrones, Valerius waved his hand, and an immense gilded cage appeared encompassing the gold throne. Its bars reached towards the ceiling before coming together in an intricate twisting of metal. It had an arched door that stood open like a gaping maw, waiting for its captive to enter. The door had a hauntingly beautiful design, with the same metal swirling as the top. The spacing of the bars was just enough that she couldn’t escape. Her heart jumped to her throat as they drew closer. She dug her heels in, twisting her arm, pulling, scratching him with her nails. Valerius hardened his grip. Ellie began fighting with all she had, knowing if she made it to the cage, Valerius would never let her go. In a desperate attempt, she pulled at his fingers, hitting, slapping, and yanking on her arm. She had to get free, had to run. She kicked as they walked; Valerius growled, but his grip never wavered. She became wild, twisting and scratching, forgetting she had magic. Remembering, she hit him with it, causing Valerius to curse. She hit him again, pulling on her magic that now roared to life in a way she had never felt before.

“I’m warning you, little human,” he snarled, but Ellie continued her assault. She gathered what power she could muster as her toes hit the first step. A flame gathered in her hand, and she did the only thing she could think of. The ball of fire hit him, and he yelped, letting go, slapping his arm as a portion of his robe caught fire.

Ellie ran, darting to the side and through a grouping of confused daemons.

“Stop her!”

The room erupted into a cacophonous maelstrom of screams. Daemons came from all sides, their leather wings beating at her, around her, over her. The sea of noise drowned out her screams as she ran towards what she hoped were the doors. She couldn’t see through the myriad of daemons. Turning sharply, she bolted towards the center of the room, knowing if she found the aisle, she could find the doors in the chaos. She leapt over a daemon whose claws tried to slice her leg. Valerius screamed orders, but she concentrated on escaping. She didn’t know what she’d do once in the corridor, but she refused to go into the cage. She refused to be locked up—not again. Finding the black aisle, she dug deep and propelled herself forward. The doors appeared, standing open just a few feet before her. Daemons surrounded her, pulling at her chiton, tearing the cloth with their claws.

“You were scratched, Ellie.”

She heard Evander’s voice echoing in her head that night in her room on the ship. If their claws connected with her skin, she didn’t know if Valerius would try to save her or let the wound fester. She needed them off her; needed to be free of their tiny hands. Letting out a scream from somewhere deep inside, she doubled over, dropping to the ground and covering her head. For several moments, the only sound was her own labored breathing. A strange quiet enveloped her. As she sat up, daemons took to the air, flying in a flurry of wings and claws above her. Tinkling, like something hitting crystal, came from behind. A daemon came at her full force, its bat-like wings flapping furiously. It smacked into something, making a sound like a bird hitting a window, and slid down in a curve to the ground. Another came from behind her, and when it hit, she whipped around to see it slide down to the floor. Several more flew at her, and all slammed into something and hit the ground. She stood in the middle of a protective dome.

Ellie turned in a circle. The wooden doors stood open just yards from her. She’d trapped herself inside a dome with no way to escape. Valerius approached, looking impressed. When he reached the dome, he flicked the edge. She flinched as though he had touched her. He pressed the edge, pushing on it like a balloon. Pressure from that side pushed against her body, and she winced. Nodding, he walked through the edge, breeching the protection. Ellie shrunk back as he entered, feeling the pulling and shifting as if his hands were on her. He clapped his hands slowly, a sneer curling his lips.

“Well done, little human.”

“I—I did nothing,” she stammered.

“Oh, but you did. I don’t have the type of magic that creates a protective shield. But you do.” His lips curled over his teeth as his sneer widened. She backed up and lifted her hands.

“Don’t come any closer,” she warned, feeling her magic gather in her palms. “I mean it.”

“Oh, what will the Serathena with her baby powers do? Throw another fireball? Lightning?”

“I’m dangerous, Valerius.” She felt a spark shift between her palms. “Back up.” His laugh ran through the dome, bouncing off the sides like his little pets had. “You? Dangerous? Oh, little human, I’m the dangerous one.”

Twisting his finger, a shadow snaked out from under him, slithering and writhing across the floor. A scream tore its way out of her as she stumbled and fell on her butt. The shadows curled around her wrists. She tried to pull them apart, tried to twist, but she couldn’t break free. The same black tendrils that had crawled up Syren’s arms now held her captive. He handcuffed her with magic. Ellie tried to put her palms together but couldn’t feel anything between them. Whatever these shadows were, they rendered her magic useless. Yanking her to her feet, Valerius drug her back to the platform, to the throne, and to the cage. Ellie fought, but it was useless with her hands bound. When his grip tightened, she let out a yelp of pain. Turning on the top step, he raised his hand to silence the roar as they neared the cage.

“Turnspits, drudges, and minions.” His voice rang out through the great hall. “We have the Serathena.”

The screams of the daemons rose to the height of the ceiling, clattering around the room and falling to the floor. It filled every nook and cranny in the room, pulsating as if alive. Daemons jumped into the air, the flapping of their wings heightening the crescendo of cheering that burst forth. Wincing, she scrunched her neck, trying to cover her ears from the noise. Valerius whipped her around to face the cage and flicked his wrist.

“After you.”

He raised an eyebrow, daring her to escape again. The cold clutch of fear clawed at her, and a scream erupted, ripping out of her throat like an animal. Her eyes locked on his as she twisted and pulled, trying to break free again, but those flaming-blue eyes turned colder, deadlier.

One tiny daemon, flying in a great flurry, slammed into Valerius, momentarily knocking him off balance. Taken aback for a second, he loosened his grip before flinging her into the cage, slamming the door shut behind her. The daemon clung to him, scratching at his robe and shoulder, switching between screaming at him and flinging towards the cage. At first, Ellie thought it was fighting him, and for a moment, it looked like it was winning. The tiny thing grabbed and clawed, flying around his ears and head, screaming as it did. Then it flew at the cage, bouncing off the bars before gripping them and sticking its tiny, clawed fist into the cage to shake at Ellie. Valerius grabbed the daemon, scolding it in a language she had never heard while it clung to him. He pushed it to the ground, its claws scratching the fabric of his robe before it wrapped around his leg. Growling, he shoved the shoulders of the creature, but it slipped down, and refusing to let go. Now on his foot, it clasped its claws together on either side of his calf and shook its head vigorously. He tried to escape the daemon’s clutches, but the thing had wound itself so tight it was impossible.

“Friend of yours?”

Caged in this evil demigod’s lair, surrounded by hundreds of dancing, partying daemons, her captor stood motionless in the grips of a tiny hellish creature sitting on his foot like a child waiting for a ride. Valerius, for all his scary evilness, looked slightly embarrassed to be rendered helpless as he was. Curiosity momentarily overtook any fear Ellie had.

“Sort of.” He shrugged and tried to walk towards his throne. Ellie watched in shocked amusement as he hobbled.

Regular step.

Wide, awkward step with the baby daemon.

Regular step.

Wide, awkward step with the baby daemon.

When he reached the chair, he flopped into it, and the little thing crawled up his leg, over his lap and shoulder, to perch on the top. He sighed in defeat.

“Sansari,” he scolded. The thing screeched and flapped her wings. “Sansari, we talked about this. Listen to your kyrios .”

Ellie chortled, and he whipped his head around to glare.

“This isn’t funny. She thinks I’m her kyrios , her master. But she never listens to her kyrios .” She beat her wings, swatting at his hands. “Come down here this instant.” He crossed his arms, exasperated, when she let out another series of screeches.

“They grow up so fast, am I right?” Ellie said, leaning against the cage. Valerius shot her a deadly look, and she shrugged. “If you coddle her, she’ll never learn.” She shook her head in mock disapproval. The baby daemon’s eyes flashed red, and she barked something in a foreign language.

“No, Sansari. That’s rude. Don’t call the Serathena that.”

“That thing is being ugly to me?”

Valerius shrugged. “She’s only a baby daemon. She doesn’t know any better.”

He sighed again. She studied him from this angle as he argued unsuccessfully with the daemon. Standing, he reached, trying to remove her, which she didn’t like. The daemon screamed and called him something that made Valerius scold her in the same language. He finally gave up, throwing his hands into the air in surrender, and sat. The little thing quickly scrambled down from the top and nestled into his lap and looked up at him with what could only be described as adoration. He glanced at the ceiling, then down at the little tyrant, then he patted her on the head, tucking her close as she folded her petite wings around herself.

Ellie shook her head at the unlikely pair.

“Um, Valerius,” she said after a few minutes.

He glanced over at the cage. “Yes?”

“You want to untie me?”

He gave her a strange look, lifting an eyebrow, and then twisted his free hand. The bindings around her wrists dissipated. Ellie did the only thing she could do.

She took a seat on the gilded throne.