Chapter Twelve
Nina
Iwoke up startled, having dreamed of sirens in a drowned city.
The flames in the fireplace crackled, and I stared up at the shadows twisting and writhing across the walls of my bedchamber.
Who needed a damn fire in Hell?
I at least hoped the heat might burn away the lingering worry in my chest.
But my thoughts refused to settle. The last few days had exposed everything I thought I knew and left me questioning what was real and what was an illusion.
In the room’s far corner, smoke seeped from the ground, unfurling in twisting currents that coiled upward.
The shifting black mass broke apart and reformed, over and over, never settling into a fixed shape.
It swelled, a towering dark mass threaded with fiery veins, its depths rippling with movement, limbs flickering in and out of existence, claws curling from wisps.
Then, a face began to emerge. It was undefined save for two golden eyes.
They blinked, and recognition struck. I had seen those glinting embers before.
The eyes from the wood.
“It’s you.” My voice sounded thin and hollow.
“Hello, Nina,” the creature murmured, its voice smooth and elegant. Not at all the guttural snarl I had expected from a monster.
I swallowed, my heart hammering in my chest. “Who are you?”
The shifting mass of smoke stirred. The creature breathed, a cloud of heat rolling around me.
“It’s not important.”
Not important. Right. Says every suspicious stranger in every cautionary story ever.
The smoke rippled, and I got the bizarre sense that it was unimpressed by my wide-eyed expression and gaping mouth.
“Are you afraid?” it rumbled.
I shrugged.
“Then you’re braver than the others,” it added. “Or more foolish.”
“Foolishness usually comes first,” I muttered. My throat felt dry, my pulse still hammering. “What do you want?”
“Want?” The creature’s shape shifted, almost a man, still a shadow. “I’ve wanted many things. But tonight, I’m here because of you.”
My stomach twisted. “You don’t even know me.”
“Oh, but I do.” The voice softened, low enough to make my skin prickle. “You’re the one who burned.”
My mind went back to Firstfire, to the pyre that had collapsed and burned me alive.
“What are you?” I whispered. “Are you . . . damned?”
“No. I am bound in another way,” it murmured, golden eyes burning through the dark.
Something in its voice made my heart skip a beat. No regret. Not pain. Just something final.
“Are you the one who whispers to me?”
“No.” Then, the voice was wistful as it said, “I remember those whispers.”
My throat tightened.
What does that mean?
It was a simple answer, but it left me reeling.
Was this thing once connected to the whispers? Did it know who (or what) had been slipping into my mind?
My next question struck like lightning, the shock running straight to my core. “Are you the Demon of Temptation?”
“No,” the monster insisted.
I steadied my breath. “Then who are you? Why are you here?”
The smoke rippled again. “To make a bargain.”
I almost laughed. “I’m not in the habit of bargaining with creatures of Hell.”
A hush. Then, soft as a whisper, “They all bargain, eventually.”
The words sent a chill down my spine.
The silence stretched. I expected the creature to speak again, to make its offer, but it only watched and waited for me to ask the most crucial question of all.
“How can I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t. No one is trustworthy in Hell.”
Good thing I already have trust issues.
“And the whispers?”
“They’ve grown tired of these games.”
A cold weight pressed against my chest. “What do you mean?”
“A century of failure, and The Cycle continues. But it was never meant to last forever.”
I hesitated. “So, what happens if someone wins?”
The creature went still. Then, instead of answering, it drifted closer. Smoke unfurled at my feet. I held my ground, though my instincts screamed at me to run.
Its golden eyes narrowed. “You’re heading to the next domain,” it murmured.
I nodded.
The smoke surged, cold as frost, wrapping around my legs. My breath caught.
“Listen to the whispers. Trust no one else.”
Its gaze flicked past me, fixed on something I couldn’t see. Then the smoke began to disperse, seeping back through the cracks in the panelled floor.
“Wait! I have more questions.”
I reached out, but my hand closed on nothing. The last wisps of black smoke curled away.
I turned to see what had stolen its attention. A tapestry hung above the fireplace. The fabric was thick, woven from multicoloured threads. Seven territories – not six – sprawled across its surface, arranged in a perfect circle, their borders stitched in crimson and black.
Each land was rendered in impossible detail: a garden of jewelled thorns, a city split by lightning, an arena full of battling figures.
Tiny sigils of chains and blades were worked into the weave, symbols that glinted the longer I looked.
At the centre burned a column of flame, stitched in gold so bright it almost hurt to look at.
This was a map of Hell.
I thought back to the archways in the Heart, and the single shattered walkway that stood apart from the rest. My gaze darted over the tapestry again, counting the seven vibrant cities that were depicted.
A strange, slithering feeling rushed through my body. I wanted the truth, and here it was.
One domain had fallen. One demon had vanished.
I intended to find out why.
And if it took a few bad choices along the way, so be it.