Lucille
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Isat on the settee in my sitting room, running the end of the quill across my lips as I homed in on my notes. Early morning moonlight streaked across the numerous papers, sharing space with the crackling firelight. They spotlighted my mocking words, taunting me with answers I didn’t have.
Harsh circles marked Tsal-mawet four times in my descriptions of the doors’ images.
Two from before I rescued Aspen and two after.
It was safe to assume Tsal-mawet would be needed to open the gates, just like I had needed it to open Portal Lake.
Good thing I knew where it was… Unfortunately, I had no idea how I’d steal it from Cato’s office.
That led me to obsess over the rune on my father’s neck. Cato had my information. But based on how he reacted to finding me in his dream, he wasn’t going to tell me. There was only one way I could figure out what he was hiding. Only one way I could steal Tsal-mawet.
I slumped back into the floral cushions. If only I could just get to the last damned chapter in Cato’s book. I pulled the leather-bound annoyance onto my lap, tugging at the final page of the Inviso Chapter. The pages vibrated, and I jerked my hand back before they burned me.
Cato knew what I wanted from that last chapter. The only way I’d ever figure out how to use Praetervado was with the information the cloaked female had. But then I’d have to try dream-walking to Miriam for the fourth time without failing.
I was starting to think I needed something more personal, something from Aspen instead of the list the female had given me.
Thinking about the cloaked female haunting my thoughts reminded me of another in maroon. On a hunch, I wrote down the dream-walk I had to my mother and the one to Melanie, listing everything I could remember. Then I placed it beside my other notes.
“Anastasia,” I said as I wrote down Lilith’s name for her.
Something itched at my mind, insistent in its intensity.
“Anastasia,” I repeated slowly, drilling holes into my notes.
Then it was like the words jumped off the page.
I think I’m the only one who can. After all, I am her daughter.
Anastasia will be dealt with before she ruins anything with her incessant ploys.
Nice necklace.
The doors depicted Lilith with two coven members wearing black dresses and marked with a six-pointed star. The next day, the image changed to Anya screaming and wearing a black dress.
“Heavenly Shit.” I sat back.
Anya wasn’t just a random spoiled human wasting away in Hell’s dungeons. She was Lilith’s dead daughter.
What did that mean for us?
At best, she could provide information on Melanie and her mother, possibly the infection. At worst… could she be the one behind it?
She’d have to have access to blood, signs she was experimenting with it, and some way of distributing it all from within a cell. Plus, she helped my mom and wanted to kill Lilith. Why would she change sides?
I needed to tell Ronen. We needed to question her.
I walked to his room, my Infernus skittering through my stomach and across my skin.
Digging my fingers into my clammy palms, I refrained from rubbing away my nerves.
Heavenly Hell, I shouldn’t be this nervous to talk to him.
I was just passing along important intel!
And besides my father, he was the only one with a key to the dungeons.
My attention kept snagging on the windows I passed, remembering his kiss, his words.
You didn’t have to.
Even if he knew how I felt, that didn’t exactly mean I claimed him. Or him me… right?
“Uhh,” I groaned.
This should not be my focus!
Especially when I still needed to tell him I was going on patrols with my squad, and he didn’t have a say. I knew that conversation wouldn’t go down well.
“Heavenly Shit,” I breathed, knocking on his door.
I waited, then tried again. No answer.
Was he sleeping?
I knocked louder. Nothing.
Maybe he was a heavy sleeper?
His doorknob swirled with his shadow lock. I pursed my lips. Should I break in and wake him up?
I stood there, staring at the doorknob like it held a blade to my chest. Anya wasn’t going anywhere. I could tell him before training, and we could question her together. Actually, the more I thought about it, the more that sounded like the best plan.
And in the meantime… I had other answers to find.
Nerves scattered like terrorizing bugs beneath my skin as I wrapped my hand around the Doors of Moirai. This morning, they displayed Tsal-mawet on one side and the Unmaking Ceremony rune on the other.
“I got it, okay,” I hissed under my breath.
But did I? Was I truly going through with my insane plan?
I drew the door back, peeking in. Moonlight beamed through the glass ceiling, slashing shadows across the polished floors. Darkness invaded the aisles between shelves, hiding all of Cato’s secrets.
Staring at the dangling glass orbs, I stuck to the outskirts of the library, hoping to avoid setting them off. I crept in the direction Cato always disappeared to, my footsteps silent, my body tense.
Deadly songs whispered in my ear, and a thrumming warmth coursed through my veins as my powers called to me. They were eager to help. But they had no place here.
My make-it-up-as-I-go plan didn’t involve hurting Cato. Not unless he hid something that warranted it.
When I entered a dark hallway leading to Cato’s door, I took a second to consider the ramifications of what I was about to do.
This was a risk. But Cato was hiding things about my father and admitted to knowing things about my mother. And if I was going to do it, it had to be now. There didn’t appear to be any light beneath his door, which meant he was most likely still sleeping.
By some stroke of luck, Cato’s door handle had no magical seal on it, but it was locked. I pulled out my makeshift set of picks and made quick work of it. Holding my breath, I eased open the door, a flimsy lie poised on my tongue in case Cato popped out and whacked me with a book.
Fortunately, he wasn’t lurking in the shadows of his mini library. Unfortunately, my conscience warred with me as I softly eased his door shut and flipped the lock. I tiptoed toward his study door, thankful the wooden floorboards didn’t creak.
Sucking in my stomach and trying to make myself as small as possible, I wedged into the crack of the door. The hinges squeaked as my hips bumped it open just enough to fit. I cringed and eyed the other doors, waiting for light to erupt beneath the gaps.
Nothing happened.
I continued inside, then dared to twist the knob and slowly close the door. Once shut, I pressed my ear to the cool wood, listening, waiting. Nothing.
Exhaling, I turned and almost smiled at the sight of the paper on his desk.
The paper rustled in my grip as I crossed to the window. Silver light spilled across the black ink, joining me in my desperate need for answers.
The Unmaking Ceremony
After General Ronen confirmed King Lucifer had a rune on his neck, I conducted my own research into the matter. I have determined that the rune in question resulted from undergoing the Unmaking Ceremony.
King Lucifer maintains that the ceremony involved Tsal-mawet and the feather of the intended transfer.
He further states that the council was required to sever his wings and sunder his bond with Saraqael to make him the King of Hell—that was the required price.
A price General Ronen agreed to when he sought sanctuary in Hell.
It is worth noting, however, that with Saraqael existing as a disembodied soul, it is possible this altered King Lucifer’s perception regarding the transfer of title and powers to General Ronen.
I leaned back against the windowsill, feeling panic flutter beneath my sternum.
What King Lucifer and General Ronen were not yet privy to was the suspicious activity I uncovered in King Lucifer’s Unmaking Ceremony. Praetervado has proven most useful in this regard.
The ceremony itself doesn’t require a sacrifice; Tsal-mawet does.
In order to unmake or remake, the dagger must take something and reshape it.
But only the Weaver can control the sentient dagger’s tendencies.
Although this information was not unknown, it appears the council’s hubris ultimately prevailed over better judgment.
Etan convinced the council of his desire to perform the Unmaking Ceremony on one of them.
My dream-walk did not illuminate the precise manner in which he convinced them or how King Lucifer came to volunteer, only that both occurred.
I must also note that I had never heard of the Unmaking Ceremony before King Lucifer.
Etan rendered King Lucifer unconscious and carved two Sanguis Runes (as seen below) into his neck: one for intention and one to bind the intention to the dagger. Together, they formed a singular rune designed to direct Tsal-mawet’s sentient tendencies.
He then drove the blade into King Lucifer’s chest with considerable force. He neither woke nor whimpered. But blood pooled, and his Seraphim flames drew into the blade. His black hair transitioned to white. His blinding wings dulled, then were severed from his back by an invisible force.
The onlooking council gasped. Etan smiled, digging the dagger deeper.
Notably, only a few council members had the presence of mind to question whether the ceremony had already reached its conclusion.
Regardless, Etan kept the dagger in Lucifer’s chest, his angelic essence pulsing into the blade while a darker force entered him.
Upon completion, Etan placed a black ring onto Lucifer’s finger and regarded the blade with an expression I can only describe as reverent.
“Council member Lucifer is no longer one of us. His angelic essence is stripped, his bond, his wings. Only Hell can sustain him now. Without it, he’ll perish.”
His words rang with deafening clarity. Only one council member proved brave enough to question the ceremony’s intentions, or the ring slipped onto Lucifer’s finger.