Chapter 5
My interaction with Fen haunted me. I couldn’t decide if he was a Tempter or a Judge. The way he’d listened and tried to comfort me made no sense for a Tempter, who wouldn’t be interested in a Judge for anything except sex for a night. And I still had no idea why I’d seen him in my vision.
“Maeve?” Bea’s voice startled me out of my stupor. “You’re holding up the line. It’s okay, just pick something.”
I snatched up a bowl of porridge and walked quickly to an empty table. I had to stop thinking about him. This was ridiculous. There were far more important things to worry about.
Bea set a small bowl of fruit next to me. “It’s weird, I know, but we’ll get used to it. Ease yourself in.”
“Thanks.” I scooped a few pieces into my porridge and dug in, but I couldn’t meet her eye. She thought I was overwhelmed by the amount of food choices on offer compared to the convent. I didn’t have the courage to tell her I couldn’t stop obsessing over a man.
I thought about him as we ate, on our way to the Amphitheater, and as we took our seats.
I searched the crowd for him, but he wasn’t there.
My heart sank. This morning’s assembly was required for all Judges.
His absence could only mean he was a Tempter.
I’d kissed a Tempter last night. I should be horrified. Instead, I was just confused.
“Who is that?” Bea asked the woman sitting next to us, nodding at the woman in the cream sash with the hawk-like expression at the front of the room. I recognized her from the day before.
“Talia, Death’s Steward. She oversees the castle and assigns soul cases to Judges.” The woman leaned in and lowered her voice. “They say she also tends to Death.” I suppressed an eye roll at her giggle. After last night’s orgy, it didn’t surprise me that even our goddess was having regular sex.
The room went quiet as a ball of light appeared on the stage. It pulsed once in a blinding flash and then Death was there. We dropped to our knees, heads bowed.
“You may rise.” The white gown she wore had a fuller skirt than the ones I’d seen her in previously. It swished around her feet as she moved, while gold chains draped from collar to shoulder tinkled. She looked divinely feminine and ready for battle.
With a flick of her hand, she summoned a small round platform on the floor in front of her, along with a staff of gnarled branches and a small table.
A tan leather case trimmed in gold and a beautiful set of scales sat atop it, gleaming softly.
Then she sat on her throne, her expression blank, her posture reminding me of the statues in the convent.
“Is that for our assessment?” Bea whispered, her eyes wide.
“No, that comes later today,” our neighbor said. “This is for the third years. They’re judging their first cases in front of Death. We get to watch them weigh souls.”
My pulse quickened. This was the reason we were all here and what we would have to do for our assessment. I looked across the aisle to where a row of people sat pouring over piles of papers in their laps. Thirteen of them had made it this far. I sat up straight, not wanting to miss anything.
Talia called one of the third years forward, a man who looked like he was in his late twenties.
He took his place next to the platform, within reach of the staff. Footsteps sounded behind me and a moment later Daphne came into view, descending the central steps to the floor.
My brow furrowed, wondering where she’d come from. I hadn’t seen any Tempters when we sat down. “What’s a Tempter doing at a soul judging?” I asked, my voice low.
“One of the Judges told me last night that every case is assigned a Judge and a Tempter,” Bea said.
“They both review the soul’s life. The Tempter provides insight, but the sentence recommendation is up to the Judge.
Our trainees are paired with a Tempter when they start judging cases.
They have trainees on the Devil’s side too, but they’re paired with Judges when they start working on cases. That way there’s always one expert.”
I looked over my shoulder towards the back of the room, and choked on nothing.
A group of Tempters stood at the top of the stairs, in front of them a familiar man with a silver crown of twisted horns on his head. His arms were crossed, a look of utter contempt on his face.
Fen wasn’t just a Tempter. He was the Devil.
Like last night, he wore a sleeveless tunic, this one black with red and silver trim.
I wondered if he wore them to purposely show off his biceps and forearms, which looked like they belonged on a warrior of legend.
Like he wielded a sword regularly instead of shadows.
His pants did nothing to disguise his muscular thighs.
I could only imagine what the view of him looked like from behind.
It had been dark on the balcony, so I hadn’t gotten a good look.
Combined with his ruggedly handsome face and kissable lips, I vividly remembered how good they’d felt against mine; he was temptation personified.
Power poured off of him, so much that Death’s presence felt small in comparison.
I didn’t know how I’d missed it. There had been whispers about the Devil’s strength, but the imbalance between the two of them was startling.
I wasn’t the only one who felt it, judging by the nervous looks of the Judges seated near him, slouching down a bit as if to make themselves less noticeable.
I blinked, unable to believe this was the same man I’d kissed last night. He’d seemed so human then. There was nothing human about him now. He looked every inch the cold, dark god he was.
My stomach plummeted to my feet. I’d had a vision of the Devil. Perhaps it was a sign of where I should have ended up—in his Dungeon. Or, given our interaction last night, maybe he’d sent it to me to stoke my curiosity, to make me inclined to trust him. Maybe he had plans for me.
I curled my hands into fists. He’d lied to me, telling me he was a Judge. It was one of the reasons I’d trusted him. Had I known who he was, I’d never have unburdened myself. The memory of everything I’d revealed made me cringe.
Stupid. I was so stupid. And weak. I should have expected it. The Devil was known for his powers of manipulation, but I’d been an easy target, so desperate for connection and reassurance that I’d made the right decision in coming here. He’d given me that. And then I’d kissed him.
Gods.
Something cracked open in my chest and heat rushed down my arms, into my hands. I looked down, expecting to see them turning red but there was no sign of what I felt. As quick as it had come, the sensation dissipated.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I tried to steady myself.
There was no way to take back what I’d said.
I had no idea what he’d do with the information or why he’d manipulated me.
All I could do was assume everything he’d told me was a lie.
My shoulders slumped. If he wanted someone like me to be a Judge, I probably shouldn’t be.
A loud thump pulled my attention back to the floor.
The Judge trainee raised the staff in his hand and brought it down on the platform twice more. The thunk it made reverberated more than it should, like the platform was more than just a piece of wood. “I call forth the soul that was Evan Leander.”
The platform broke open in a spiral, the pieces retracting to create a circular opening through which a man rose.
No. Not a man. The echo of a man. A soul.
Evan Leander. His body was translucent and shimmered when he moved.
He looked around in alarm at the gathered assembly, but when he tried to step off the platform he ran into an invisible barrier.
Pointing the staff like a spear, the trainee jabbed the tip into Evan’s chest, making him gasp. I winced as the trainee pulled it out. A pulsing ball of golden light sat in the cluster of branches at the top.
“What is that?” I whispered.
“The soul’s heart, its essence,” Bea said, her voice full of awe.
Without it, the outline of Evan dimmed so that he looked even more like a ghost. I shivered at the sight.
The trainee set the staff back in the stand and the cluster of branches holding the soul’s heart opened like a hand.
The ball of light inside expanded to twice its size and shifted from pure gold to a rainbow of jewel tones.
It was like looking at the inside of a pomegranate—hundreds of seeds nestled together in sheets, each one a different color.
I held my breath as the trainee reached in and plucked out a handful in the deepest hues.
They pulsed like a beating heart in his hands.
He placed them on one side of the scale, causing the dish to sink.
Then he opened the leather box on the table next to it.
I caught sight of silver and black pieces nestled in trays inside.
“The soul that was Evan Leander,” the trainee said, “spent most of his life coveting what others had. He killed his best friend and business partner over a contract and then married his widow. He was caught trying to bribe a judge in a trade dispute and executed.” The trainee pulled out three of the silver pieces—weights, I realized, each one a different size.
“The recommended sentence is to return him to the World of the Living in a life where his desires are always just out of reach,” he placed one weight on the other side of the scale, causing it to swing into motion, “the need to care for an ungrateful family,” a second weight, “and an unrequited love.” The third weight brought the two sides closer together but not level.
The weight of the soul pieces was still heavier than the sentence.
A ripple of dismay ran through the crowd, and the trainee pressed his lips together as he reached into the box of weights again.
“What’s he doing?” Bea asked. “How is he going to balance the scales?”
My eyes darted to Death’s face. She was laser focused on the scale, as if she could make it move by will alone, her brows creased in a frown.
“He has to add weight to the sentence,” I said.
“Years in the Devil’s care.” The trainee set another weight on the scale—this one black. The scales shifted a little but not enough to balance things. Not until he added five black weights did the pans pull level. “Fifty years.” The trainee sounded defeated and I saw Death’s eyes close in dismay.
Angry murmurs circulated, and even Talia, who had kept her face blank up to now, glared at the Tempters and their master.
Fifty years with the Devil, in addition to a sentence that condemned Evan to a miserable next life, seemed extreme.
I looked over my shoulder to the dark god.
His expression didn’t change. A man had been condemned to his Dungeon, and he still watched the proceeding with a look of contempt.
Daphne laughed.
My jaw clenched, and the tension in the room cinched tighter as the people around me stiffened.
Death went rigid. “You think a sentence like this is a laughing matter?” I flinched despite her soft tone. If she were looking at me like that I would be running.
“Not the sentence,” Daphne said. “All of you. Acting like this is the only possible outcome.”
“The rules for passing judgment were followed. This is the result.”
“Sure. It’s not like there’s more than one way to balance the scales.” Daphne shrugged and laughed again.
My jaw dropped at her callousness. Then I looked back at the Devil. Instead of the smirk I expected to see on his face, he glowered. What did he have to be pissed about? He got another soul for his collection.
“Show some respect for the dead.” Death glared at Daphne, as if daring her to say something else, but Daphne just picked her nails.
“Evan Leander. Look at me.” Death shifted her focus to the soul on the platform. Her voice was laced with command, a resonance that wasn’t there before.
Evan locked eyes with her and stiffened as a wave of power flowed from her to him, forming a link between them. It made the hair on my arms stand on end.
Death had a faraway look on her face, like she was seeing beyond the room. Her eyes glowed. It was said she was able to see the entire life of a soul simply by looking at them. I swallowed at the idea of being so exposed. So vulnerable.
As she closed her eyes, the link between them snapped, and Evan sagged. “The sentence is just. May it serve you well.” She looked to the top of the stairs, her mouth a flat line.
Evan followed her gaze, scrambling back when he realized who she was looking at. “No. Please. I beg you. Don’t send me to the Devil.” He plastered himself against the invisible wall at the edge of his platform, as if trying to escape, his voice rising with each plea.
All heads turned to the dark god. I shrank back at the loathing on his face. He seemed to grow in size, his presence expanding. Shadows gathered at his hands, curling around his wrists before splitting into tendrils that spilled down the steps.
“No. No. Don’t.” Evan’s shrieks pierced the air.
My chest ached. It shouldn’t be like this.
The shadows surrounded the platform, flowing over the edge, wrapping around Evan’s legs and climbing up his torso like vines.
I snuck a peek at the Devil and immediately wished I hadn’t. His eyes were completely black, and the tendons of his neck stood out, as if he was holding himself back.
“Please—” Evan’s scream was cut off as the shadows covered his face and head.
Time seemed to stop for a moment, all of us suspended as the shadows pulsed.
The overhead lights flickered and a tremor shook the room.
I felt the Devil’s presence intensify, his power a tangible thing that caressed my skin.
Then everything stopped. The room returned to normal and the shadows dissolved, revealing an empty platform.
Evan was gone.