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“Don’t lie to me,” he was seething, in his eyes there was a fury she’d never before seen.
Peri layered her expression with as much unassuming innocence as she could muster. “Grandfather, where could I even go? Don’t you remember the blessed mark you had my father branded me with?”
His fury radiated like heat, searing into her. Perhaps branded wasn’t the best word choice if she was attempting innocence.
“If I find out you’re connected to this—” he gestured to the cascade of falling stars outside “—then you will become my ward until the ritual.”
The words landed like a cage around her.
Moloch looked behind her, as if her room held something incriminating that he could further punish her for. “What did you do to Valus? He vomited non-stop after his walk with you the other day.”
“How could I do anything to hurt Valus? He’s nearly twice my size, five centuries my senior, and obviously much more brilliant than I could ever hope to be. Isn’t that why you arranged for our betrothal?” As she said this, Peri stared at his long, spindly fingers.
She thought of what the toads had once told her, what Laurel had reiterated when it came to getting help from Slang. Something had snapped inside of her while fighting for Oleander’s life in the Arcane Vaults. The serene, patient side of her was slipping quickly away. It was curious to realise she was increasingly filled with both rage and hate—two feelings she’d denied being able to feel for so long.
How easy it would be to summon the rage to sever those fingers at this moment—a sticky, golden offering to a mercurial two-headed serpent. There was a risk that Slang would twist any request for help into yet another bargain. At the same time, there was an equal chance that Slang would offer the answers she desperately needed.
Still, something stayed her hand—a feeling in her gut that told her the timing wasn’t yet right. She pulled her hands behind her back and clenched them into tight fists to keep from making any rash decisions she’d immediately regret.
Her grandfather neither answered her question nor offered any further explanation for why he’d barged in demanding to see her; instead he lingered a tense moment longer, watching the stars descend, his jaw tight with rage. Then, without looking at her again, he snapped, “Next time I come to check on her, I expect her to be found instantaneously.”
Apphia hesitated, then murmured, “Of course, Father.”
Moloch exhaled sharply. “I have to meet with the other Grand Dukes to discuss this catastrophe. I will return as soon as possible.”
With that, he swept out of the hallway.
Peri and her mother waited until the front door slammed before exhaling a joint breath of relief.
Apphia whispered, almost to herself, “How could Peri have caused the stars to fall from the sky?” Then, as if realising what she’d said, guilt flickered across her face. “You… you didn’t have anything to do with it, right?”
Peri met her gaze, voice light. Careful. “How could I have?”
Apphia hummed in agreement. “It’s probably just the immense stress he’s under. Don’t pay it any mind.”
Peri’s stomach roiled, she fisted her hands to try and relieve some of the guilty pressure and anxiety building inside her. It was strange that her grandfather had assumed Peri had caused Starfall.
How had he known?
Apphia’s smile was brittle. Still she wrapped an arm around Peri and asked, “Shall we have a cup of tea to calm ourselves?”
“Why is he so focused on me?” Peri asked, she wanted to push the truth from her mother. “He’s never shown the slightest interest in Sia.”
She’d tried to sound lighthearted, but her words came out strained. Apphia cleared her throat, carefully choosing her response. “He’s worried about you, that’s all.”
“But why?” A pit formed in Peri’s stomach. “Why me specifically?”
Apphia exhaled a long breath, still avoiding her daughter’s eyes. “Well… you’re about to Ascend.”
“Yes, along with many other demonkind.” She wanted her mother to say it. Desperation clawed at her for her mother to be honest—either admitting she didn’t know why or having the strength to admit that it had to do with Slang’s Bite.
She didn’t know why it was so important, but it felt vital to her in this moment to know if her parents could even be forthright with her.
“You—” Apphia cleared her throat. “You should consider it an honour.” Her mother turned to leave then, but Peri shot out a hand, grasping her arm.
“Mother—” Peri’s voice broke as she pleaded. “I think something’s wrong. He threatened to make me his ward.”
“It’ll all be alright in the end, Peri.” Apphia’s eyes were filled with apprehension, her hand shaking slightly as she brushed a stray curl from Peri’s face. “It has to be.”
