Chapter 40 Skull Building
Skull Building
After countless twists and turns, the path split in two.
Damien took her left, and a hush settled around them—not quiet but empty, as though the very essence of life had been drained from this place.
As they walked, the sky overhead darkened to a muted, ashen grey; the forest around them changed, too, as if it had been burned long ago, with its trees standing lifeless.
Their skeletal forms swayed mournfully in the breeze, and every nerve in Luna’s body screamed she was heading to her doom, to turn around and leave before she couldn’t.
“Where are we?” she asked, forcing her feet to keep moving.
“Demonic lands.” Damien pointed up ahead to a round building, eerily shaped like a human skull. “That’s one of their temples.”
Two windows glowed a deep green, positioned in a way to resemble eyes.
The mouth of the skull formed a doorway, with jagged teeth on the top and bottom, forcing visitors to duck between.
Whoever had designed this place wanted their guests to feel like they were being consumed—a fact not lost on Luna.
“Are we safe?”
“Of course,” Damien said as though the idea that she wouldn’t be safe with him nearby were simply absurd.
She said nothing. Her gaze stuck to the building, on the way the light inside didn’t flicker like flame but pulsed slowly, steady.
“The power that lived here, the wickedness”—he paused, his gaze also moving to the building—“it hasn’t entirely left.”
“What do you mean?”
“Demons used these temples for soul binding, sacrifices . . .” A shiver traced down his spine, too quick to hide, and it unsettled her more than if he’d screamed.
“Plenty more,” he went on. “And even though they’re long gone, the land still remembers.
Still answers to their kind. Most other magic won’t even work here—and if it does, it tends to backfire.
That’s why it’s the perfect place for a meeting for the Darkened One.
No one is dumb enough to push their luck here.
Hopefully it’ll keep things . . . civil. ”
Inside, candles balancing on small wooden pegs wedged between the gaps in the brick walls lit the space, casting flickering light across the cobwebs clinging to the ceiling and stone.
“The apartment inside is much better maintained,” Damien said, leading her down a short hallway and up a spiralled staircase, skipping the steps stained maroon. Luna didn’t ask if it was wine or blood; not knowing seemed better for her sanity.
At the top, Damien stopped at a dark wooden door. “Ready?”
She nodded, and he pushed it open.
Beyond the door, the walls glowed acid-green, bathing the room in soft, unnatural light.
Two massive circular windows dominated the far wall.
The furniture was entirely black, scaled far beyond normal proportions.
Its carved swirls and grand design looked unmistakably regal.
Or maybe not, she thought with a gulp. Made for demons.
She looked down at her hands. They were clean now—no blood, no light, no power—but her fingers trembled with the memory of it. Of what she’d done. The bodies she turned to dust.
Maybe it wasn’t so strange, sitting here in a demon’s temple. Maybe this place suited her more than she wanted to admit.
She froze mid-step.
And, of course, Damien noticed. “Are you alright?”
She gave him a nod, but the thought curled cold around her spine. I’m not that different from the monsters who built this place.
“Took you long enough,” a musical voice rang out, and Luna jumped.
From around the corner, a lady with a curvy figure and soft brown curls kissing her shoulders emerged. Luna instantly relaxed. Corey looked exactly as she had back in the marketplace, minus the white particles of flour clinging to her clothes.
Corey practically sang, “Oh hello, sweet cheeks.” Her round, freckled face was bright with a smile. “I’m so happy you decided to come! Hold on, I just need to put something in the oven.” She disappeared through an open doorway into what Luna assumed was the kitchen.
Luna didn’t even have time to respond before Damien took off after Corey, his arms crossed over his chest. “What the hell was that?”
Luna rocked on her heels, hesitating only a second . . . then, almost running, she hurried after him. The last thing she needed was for these green walls to come alive and give her one more thing to have nightmares about.
In the kitchen, Corey was sliding two trays with circular dough on them into the oven, the metal clattering softly against the rack.
“In all the time I’ve known you,” Damien was saying, “you’ve never greeted me that warmly. It’s always—‘Hey, Little Prince,’ or ‘Oh, good, you’re here! Go get me this, did you bring that?’”
Corey spun on her heel. “You really thought you’d get a warm greeting after you took so long to get here.
Marion was worried sick.” She might be shorter than Damien, but her energy overfilled the room, making her far more intimidating.
“I had to reassure her a hundred times that you guys would be okay.” The musical notes of her voice were gone, replaced with exaggerated exhaustion.
Damien half-grinned, clearly not sympathetic to her woes. “And here I thought she would only worry about Gregory.”
Corey groaned, rolling her eyes. “Don’t even get me started. Lovesick puppy, that one.”
So Marion’s crush on Gregory was well known by others. That made Luna wonder how Gregory wasn’t aware of it . . . Or maybe he was and couldn’t bear to acknowledge it.
Sliding his beautiful behind onto the counter, Damien asked, “Have you contacted his men yet?”
“Yes, as soon as Nina healed. The trade is tomorrow.”
Luna’s blood went cold.
Tomorrow? Damien had said it was happening soon, but this was much sooner than expected. One night was hardly enough time to ask all the questions she had, let alone develop any kind of bond.
“Good, the less time Arleen is with them, the better.”
Corey grabbed a bird-like figurine and turned its head around twice. It began to sing a soft little tune. “I have to say Luna,” Corey said, drawing her attention, “I wasn’t sure if you would actually come . . .”
“Didn’t really have much choice to be honest,” Luna said curtly, curling her fingers into her palms, keeping her hands by her side to hide her nails.
Corey’s eyebrows furrowed and her lips parted slightly as she glanced towards Damien, silently seeking answers.
“The King of Grythorn imprisoned her,” Damien explained. “I busted her out of there and we took the backcountry to get here.”
It was strange that her life completely falling apart could be summed up in a single sentence or two. Thinking about what the king had done left a bitter taste in Luna’s mouth, one that she doubted even the delicious smelling goods baking right now would be able to chase away.
Corey’s face hardened, her hands forming fists at her sides.
“He did what?! The audacity to do that to a unicorn . . .” Her voice trailed off, barely grounding out the last words before anger overpowered her ability to speak.
Heat radiated off of her tense body, her eyes wild, looking around the room like she might find the king here and use him for target practice. “Don’t tell me he got away with it.”
“Then you’re not going to like my answer,” Damien said, a shadow crossing his face as he met her gaze.
Corey shook her head, her nose scrunching with disgust. “Your mercy is going to be your downfall.”
He didn’t say a word, but Luna knew; it hadn’t been mercy that stopped him.
He rose abruptly, hooves slamming on the ground with enough force to make her flinch. “Don’t talk to me about downfalls. We barely escaped as it was. If I went hunting for justice, we’d probably both be stuck there.”
When Corey didn’t respond, Damien pulled out a stool and gestured for Luna to sit.
She shook her head, not exactly in a sitting kind of mood.
He shrugged and sat down on it instead, turning his attention back to Corey.
“If we are done discussing that, I’d like to know if Nina has explained how to fix the teleportation system, or given any hints on how? ”
“None,” Corey answered with a solemn shake of her head, her tail swishing behind her. “I think she hopes to use it as leverage with the Darkened One. For now, it looks like the meeting is going to happen as planned.”
“Honestly, I don’t care. Let it be someone else’s problem. As long as my sister isn’t rotting in his hellhole for a minute longer than needed.”
A hellhole. That’s where he planned to send her birth mother.
Luna left the kitchen, acutely aware of the other’s hoof steps behind her as she walked over to the large circular window.
She gazed out at the desolate landscape below, a pit forming in her stomach.
“Will she be okay?” she interjected, breaking the flow of their conversation.
Damien and Corey both looked towards Luna, but it was Corey who answered. “Oh yes, sweet cheeks, I’m sure she’s fine.”
Damien leaned over to Corey. “I think Luna was referring to Nina—her mother.”
Birth mother, Luna corrected silently.
“Huh?!” Corey’s jaw hung open, her eyes wide.
“I mean . . .” With a forceful cough, Corey corrected her face to a neutral expression.
“I didn’t know.” She shoved Damien over with a hip check, stealing his stool.
He stumbled to his feet but didn’t move to reclaim it.
Taking this victory, Corey smiled and turned her attention back to Luna.
“It’s just a surprise that someone so lovely could come from someone so . . . not.”
Luna rolled her eyes. Another comment on her appearance, one she’d rather not receive; she wasn’t pretty anymore.
Corey’s voice changed to a tender, sweet tone, like she was talking to a small child and didn’t want to spook her. “Nina is quite powerful. She’s going to be just fine.”
Luna tried to muster a smile, but her lips failed to move.