26
“Do you know how to open the Gates shown in your destiny?”
“No.”
“With a dagger.”
“Do both open with the same one?”
Lavian nods.
“I haven’t seen it, but everyone knows what it looks like. Black handle, purple gemstone in the middle. The end is held by a red membrane. We know it’s in Filizi. You need to get it within a month. Then we’ll get you out, but if we don’t have the dagger, we have no chance.”
“Where can I find it?”
“We know a seer. We believe you’ll find it where your memories are. Your past is the key.”
I don’t understand what that means, but I nod.
“The dagger is a sacred object, Lotte. You can’t fight with it. If its blade is stained with blood, it’s useless. Whether yours or anyone else’s.”
“Why can’t it be touched by blood?”
Lavian presses his lips together.
“Though it’s symbolic, it must not be stained with blood. It has to remain as pure as the decision when someone decides to become a demon or an angel.”
A wicked smile spreads across my face as I stand before the mirror, recalling Lavian’s last words on the beach.
I have to find the dagger and get out of here. Away from this version of Hell, away from the horrors. To the angels, to overthrow Darya’s realm. My hands are sweating with excitement.
I catch sight of the black, gleaming weapon.
Deep down, I know this is what I need. Before I met Pandora, I saw this dagger; it matches Lavian’s description.
My heart starts pounding as the image clears, and I see the Demon King’s blood-drenched figure on the gray battlefield again.
I stand next to him with the dagger. I grip the frame.
I close my eyes and start concentrating.
I want the mirror to pull me in, like when I saw Pandora or Bengt, and maybe I can bring out the dagger.
There’s just one problem.
“What are you doing?”
I jump away from the frame. Nárs has snuck up behind me.
I can never be alone.
“Trying to get in,” I mutter dismissively.
“Why?”
“I want to bring something out.”
“What exactly?”
“It doesn’t matter…”
Nárs raises an eyebrow. An orange strand of hair falls into his eye.
“Lily Girl, not every mirror lets you in…”
“I figured that out for myself.”
“…only if you allow it to.”
I open my mouth, then close it again.
“Excuse me?”
“We have a desire that overrides all others. Acceptance. It doesn’t have a separate mirror, but you need it to meet the others.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It’s hard to face what we truly want, blah blah. Accepting it is even harder, blah blah. You can see your desires, but you can only live them if you accept them. Blah blah.” Nárs yawns.
So, I have to accept that this is my desire, and then I can be in the mirror.
After all, it makes sense. I entered into Pandora’s, knowing she would give me knowledge, and Bengt’s was clearly a dead desire I could never achieve.
But then why can’t I enter this damn mirror and cut Darya’s fucking throat?
“Darya’s fucking throat?” Nárs asks beside me. Apparently, I said the last part out loud.
I shake my head and stare back at the mirror. The image suddenly changes. Darya is beneath me, and I’m kneeling on his body, pressing the dagger to his throat. He smiles, though he’s only a moment away from death. Not dead. Just defeated.
The image grips every cell of my body like a vacuum, as if sucking the life out of me one by one. In the next moment, I’m sitting on Darya. The dagger leaves a red mark on his white neck. I have no idea why my hand doesn’t move. Why did the mirror let me in at all?
I slit his throat, before clutching the dagger to my chest and stepping out of the mirror.
Rejection hits me, and I end up on the vines. The first two breaths painfully burn my lungs. I quickly stand up.
The dagger isn’t with me. I couldn’t bring it out.
Hours pass as I try. The mirror only lets me in when I want to defeat Darya, and when I want to kill him, it throws me out. But when I don’t kill him, the dagger is then missing when I step out of the mirror.
I sigh. I have to search in my memories. In my memories…
My throat tightens as I look at the mirror covered in vines in the distance.
I step closer to it, and it immediately lets me in.
My brother’s face is lively, just like in my memories, but his eyes are empty. All I see is anger in them.
Anger for what I did to him.
For killing him.
“Murderer,” he whispers in my ear.
His hand clasps my neck. He is choking me.
“Bengt… Let me go…”
“Switch places with me!”
I freeze. I stare into my brother’s glassy eyes.
“What?”
“Switch places with me. I shouldn’t be here. You should!”
Something splits in my chest, and I scream. The mirror throws me out.
“What happened?” Darya asks after Nárs leaves the tower.
It’s like I’m in a bubble. I clear my throat and head towards the bathroom.
“Nothing, just need a minute…”
Cold fingers grab my wrist. Darya spins me around and pulls me close to his chest. His black claws gently scratch my neck.
“It’s not nice to lie, especially since I never do.”
My fists clench.
“You…”
I can’t finish the sentence; the anger makes me tremble.
Switch places with me.
Darya’s hand on my throat is as suffocating as my brother’s.
I couldn’t bring out the dagger. I don’t know where else to look, and if I don’t find it, I’ll stay here with the demons. The angels will never take me out.
Bengt would figure it out. Maya would figure it out. I can’t figure it out.
Switch places with me.
“I can give you a distraction if you want, little champion.”
It’s as if Darya is sensing what it takes to make me explode.
I shout, spin around, and start hitting him. There’s nothing controlled about my movements. I hit wherever I can. Murderer.
Darya is the murderer! Not me.
I need the distraction, otherwise I’ll drown in the guilt of ten years ago.
And Darya lets it happen. I hit with all my strength, my hand hurting already. He stands there, patiently looking down at me from under his long, black eyelashes.
I step away from him, my hand trembling beside my body.
“Do you seriously think,” I shout, “that I believe you don’t lie to me? Do you think I don’t know that your goal all along was to throw me to the monster, even after we made the deal?”
Darya quietly watches, then steps closer and gently takes my face into his hands.
I hate that my skin warms under his touch. I hate that I love it when he caresses me.
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
“You’ll understand later,” he says softly, running his fingers along my jawline, “that maybe I’m not as much your enemy as you’d like me to be.”
I laugh bitterly.
“I wish I went with the angels,” I hiss. “I wish they could defeat you, so no child ever has to suffer again because of you!”
I know what I’m doing. I’m directing my anger at Darya because he’s the safest.
But he’s patient. He doesn’t bite back, just looks deeply into my eyes.
“Let’s make a deal.”
I gasp.
“No.”
“You can decide whether we bring the next demon-blooded child to Filizi or leave them in your world.”
I furrow my brow.
“What do you gain from this?”
Darya smiles wickedly.
“From now on, you sleep here with me.”
My mouth drops open.
“What… and Léthé? No, wait, surely not!”
“For now, Léthé has other plans.”
I raise my eyebrows as Darya steps closer to me.
His fiery breath caresses my skin, and we both look at each other’s mouth.
The lifeless blue eyes of the Swedish boy enter my mind, along with Bengt’s. I can save a boy’s life by leaving him in my world. I wonder how they choose children.
I look at the bed and its black sheet. What will Darya do to me?
“Indeed, I’m a monster, Kindra, but I don’t force anything you don’t actually want.”
That’s exactly my problem, I have no control in Darya’s presence.
“Alright,” I squeeze out between my teeth, still not looking at the Kraldem. I haven’t forgotten my mission, but now it’s about a child’s life. I have a feeling even the angels wouldn’t mind me saving an innocent life.
“Alright, what?”
“Alright,” I look into Darya’s eyes, “I’ll sleep here for a few nights.”
“The deal stands that you’ll sleep here with me until I decide otherwise.”
“So, I’ll just have to make you get bored of me. Easy.”
Darya grins.
“It’ll be hard, considering I’ve wanted to be inside of you since you told me to get lost in the cemetery.”
I blink, and my thighs clench for a moment.
“But as I said,” Darya continues, “only what you want.”
He extends his hand.
If all goes well, I won’t be here in a month. It’s pointless to risk Darya canceling the deal.
I grasp his hand, and his claws dance on my wrist. I tingle all the way to my neck.
“Ready?” he asks cheerfully. I nod.
The room suddenly turns dark as the sunlight is obscured by black smoke. The synnefo.
Darya’s hand slides to my hips, pulling me closer to him.
The smell of earth mixes with firewood. As his face touches mine, the taste of his skin dances on the tip of my tongue. It’s like salty crystal.
“Hold on, little champion!”
I wrap my arms around him all too easily.
Darya leans his head on mine. The smoke embraces us, and nothing else is visible in the dark fog, just the Demon King and me.
Darya’s thumb strokes my hip, and sparks burst from the touch.
The demon’s power is palpable; the world slowly fades to black.
As Darya holds me tighter by the hips, my muscles tense.
I let out a soft sigh as the Kraldem pulls me closer.
His cold body presses against mine, and his thumb starts playing on my hip again. I shiver.
“Beautiful,” he whispers into my ear, and my breath catches in my throat. “You.”
And then we sink.