Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
NINE MORTAL MONTHS LATER
Asoul. An egg. A pale, wiggling, microscopic tadpole.
Once upon a time, I was an entity who swam with the glittering metals that burned between galaxies.
I’d obeyed the obligation to visit the surface with its unpleasant odors, its ignorance, its blood and death and itchy, ill-fitting air.
Then and now, I despised the crushing frustration of watching raving madmen rise to power and perpetuate the drama of the short-sighted.
Yet here I was begging for a clump of mortal cells. A womb.
Only the gods knew where. A soul yet to find its way back into the world.
She’d be back.
I knew it the way Shala had known her god would come for her. I knew it the way Eleni knew Athena would accept her sacrifice. I knew it in that… I knew nothing but trusted in a conviction that meant no matter how wrong I was, I had to see this through.
It was a faith that defied explanation.
Was this what it was like when human knees hit the ground, folded their hands in prayer, and took a chance on a god because they needed the entity to exist?
And if so, why did faith curdle at the sour intersection of hope and abandonment?
Focus. This isn’t useful. Any further down this path and you’ll draw the sort of attention that lands you in front of the Soul Eater while Izi and Father debate the sacrilege of their heir, a Prince, an immortal, deifying the fleeting uncertainty of a woman.
Stop it, stop it, stop it.
These thoughts are useless once you’ve found her, and equally useless until you’re certain she’s nowhere to be found.
The pursuit continued.
My human refused her mortal name when I’d spoken it. She’d insisted that I needed to see her—not Eleni, not Shala, but her—in this life and the next.
I knew there’d be a next.
But when? Where? Who?
Once, not so long ago, time had been a tedious, endless river of nothing.
Between courtly duties, I’d dabbled in the Bacchanalian pastime of drinking and fucking to pass time’s unyielding, tiresome progression.
I’d play ambassador to courtiers, then sample the gory delights of Hell’s Nightmare Court.
I’d follow through with princely obligations before losing myself in the lawlessness of the primordial realm.
And since eternity was a long time, and only so much could be asked of the King’s heir in the span of forever, I’d spent more than enough of my existence in the chiseled stillness of nothing upon nothing, stone-still, apathetic, unfeeling, as days bled into months, bled into forever.
That was before Shala. Before Eleni. Before Love.
She’d be back.
Somewhere out there, she was taking form. Maybe I couldn’t feel it yet in a logical sense, but the part of me that latched onto her knew her return was in the making.
I stewed in rhetorical upon rhetorical, but what did this breadth of time mean for me?
I had to wait, but I’d call on the curses of every god known to the pantheons for the barest hint of knowledge on when I’d see Love again. After all, nine months in the mortal realm could be two weeks, two days, or two hours in Hell, for all I knew, and that was if her soul was reborn.
At any time, she could choose to leave her cycle, to follow the light that led her to the afterlife of her chosen realm, to join her gods, her people, the path laid before her.
But if…if…if she’d stayed…
Its inconsistency was of countless infuriating inevitabilities in our entanglement.
A knock at my door, too loud to be a servant, too soft to be my father. “Open up, Amagi.”
“Leave me.”
The door cracked. We weren’t full siblings, but her mother’s status as Queen of Succubi gave her certain privileges that would have landed any other disrespectful citizen’s head on a spike, royal or otherwise.
She was the first daughter of her court, just as I was the first son of mine.
Our relationship was equal parts siblings and ambassadors—Hell’s Royal Court, and the Court of Nightmares.
Our father ruled over Hell’s other courts, from the Draconian to the Infernal, but only ours shared family.
At least, for now. Eternity was a long time, and the earthly world wasn’t the only one that valued the blood ties of political allegiance.
Maybe the rumors of new siblings forced her hand, but for fuck’s sake, Izi was newly unbearable in a way that would have ended in her banishment, had she been anyone else.
She slipped in and closed the door.
“Bite your tongue. I don’t want to hear what you’re about to say.”
Izi’s inky cloud of hair wafted around, defying gravity. “It seems you know why I’m here.”
“I have a guess. And you being my sister won’t stop me from killing you.”
She caught me at the same desk I’d been at for the last six visits. My posture remained unchanged from her last however-many visits. She pressed her back against the door, saying her piece softly from across the room.
“You’re making a mistake.”
I pressed the tips of my fingers into my temples. “Your opinion is noted, unwelcome, and has been disregarded. Leave.”
“Amagi—”
“Is not my name,” I bit. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you.
Whatever advice you’re about to give is to the sibling you want, not the one you have.
Deal with your court as you must. Tell our father you tried your best. But the next time you weigh in on my human, you’ll leave without a tongue. ”
There was a tiny squeak to her sound that caught me truly off guard. “Brother, you know not what you say.”
“Sister.” I gnawed off the word with as much venom as I could muster. “You know not to whom you speak.”
I didn’t look up when the door opened and the lock clicked as it closed.
I had nine mortal months.
It wasn’t enough time to come up with any true plan, but it was enough to think about what Izi had said. I didn’t give a fuck about relaxing or the fun to which she’d referred. I would throw my title to the fire over what mistakes I may or may not be making.
My sister was right about one thing, though I wouldn’t admit such truths to her.
It was a mistake to let others know about my human.
The courts, the realms, the pantheons—immortals would have a reaction to the way I followed a human soul. I didn’t care what it meant for the kingdom. My father could handle royal business. He could appoint new ambassadors. He could call upon our counts, our dukes, our duchesses, our marquises.
Legions awaited his command. His, mine, and all who served him.
As his only son, heavy was the crown, or so the saying went.
But my care was trapped with what this meant for my human.
Save for Izi and my blood-bound legion, the last immortal I’d spoken to of such things had been Athena.
I was confident the goddess of wisdom had not done anything so cruel as to betray Hell’s trust by harming my human, but even the nymph, Nai, who’d been with me when I’d spotted Eleni’s shimmering soul at the fountain, could have been a weak spot.
She’d witnessed my visceral reaction that night.
Nai could attest how lost I was the moment I’d seen my human.
The clock ticked inconsistently. It passed here. It passed above. But still, it passed.
Until I knew what this meant—until I understood my own stakes and motives—I didn’t dare include my legions, no matter how loyal they were to me, knowing they served their king and kingdom above all.
I needed a plan, and I wasn’t sure how much I trusted anyone to execute it, as I barely trusted myself.
I had nine mortal months before her soul would reenter the earth.
Eight now? Four? One? Had she already been born? What was this godsforsaken entanglement with time and my damned relationship to it.
I remained at my desk, writing nothing, reading nothing, unmoving, save for the mental tally I made of prospective enemies.
As it stood, two members of the Hellenic pantheon could identify my human’s shimmering aura, if pressed.
Was I ready to make an enemy of one of the strongest pantheons?
I thought of Athena and the miraculous hand she’d granted in our moment of need, but I wouldn’t let a moment of benevolence sway me if she had the chance to betray Eleni, Shala, Love.
As the first son of Hell, I had godhood in its own right.
Fae, cryptids, supernatural entities from all realms could live forever unless their life was ended by a god. Only gods could kill their own.
I thought of Eleni’s barefoot, tear-soaked night bathed in silver moonlight in front of Athena’s temple. The night she’d gone from a Hellenic devotee to mine.
My enemies were numerous, both real and imagined.
Age. Disease. Every human in existence. Nai. Athena. Izi.
If she was on Grecian soil again, would I fight Olympus for her?
Tick, tick, tock.
I had the ability to kill a goddess if I needed to, but it wouldn’t come to that.
Athena would keep my secrets, not for me, but for wisdom’s sake.
Nai the water nymph, a minor deity in her own right, would have to go.
As an immortal, they’d know a god-killer was to blame, but I couldn’t risk the leak.
Whether or not my kingdom had a fallout with the Hellenic pantheon as a result would be a problem for tomorrow.
I’d slay my own sister tonight, in this palace, if I thought it would serve my human.
Any moment now, Love would be reborn.
What I was going to do when that time was over, however, I had no idea.