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An hour later I found myself outside the ruined palace. I had nowhere else to go that was safe, and hoped Wrath’s magic was still somehow protecting the building. I’d made it into the lower level and had just closed the door when a tiny spike of coolness grazed my neck. I went to ignore it when I recalled what Nonna had said about being Marked by a prince of Hell.
Wrath had given me a way to summon him.
I dashed upstairs, and pulled supplies out of an extra bag I’d packed days before. Black candles, a few animal bones from the restaurant, my own personal grimo
ire I’d started, and…
Blood and bones! Without Wrath’s dagger, I didn’t have any gold, which was a main ingredient I needed to summon a demon from House Wrath. I paced around the room and cursed.
For one bloody moment I wished something would just go easily.
I shoved the candles out of the way and sank onto my bed, blinking back tears. I’d been so angry with Wrath after our kiss, so devastated by his omission about what he was truly after, that I’d wanted to hurt him back, but never like this.
Watching someone you know die, even if it’s someone you shouldn’t like, was no small thing. Then Envy’s threat, the loss of my family… I didn’t know how to proceed from here. I lay down and stared at little lines in the ceiling, thinking they were like the small fissures that had cracked my life into a million little parts. Each line represented another path, another choice, another attempt to right the wrongs committed. I mentally retraced my steps over the last several weeks, trying to divine where I may have taken a wrong turn.
When no wise answers were forthcoming, I gave up and rolled onto my side. The little dresser beside the bed had a bottle of prosecco and two glasses. A small bowl of chocolate-covered orange slices was also there. I couldn’t recall seeing either of them before, but Wrath might have brought in the treats while we were playing scopa.
I didn’t know what to make of that, so I banished those thoughts and popped the cork, watching the bubbles fizz and softly crackle as I filled my glass. If the world as I knew it was ending, I deserved a drink before I made a deal with the devil. I brought the glass to my lips and paused. Wrath had said to look in the dresser if I was bored. I wasn’t bored, but I was intrigued.
I set my glass down and pulled open the top drawer.
A small gold ring hammered into olive branches sat on a bed of crushed velvet.
It was simple but beautiful. I picked it up and slipped it onto my forefinger. It fit perfectly. My heart twisted. I knew exactly why he’d left it for me. During ancient Roman times, an olive branch was given by an enemy as a gesture of peace. A tear slipped down my cheek as I thought back to him calling it a twig of truth. Wrath, likely surmising I didn’t have much gold of my own, had given me the final piece I needed to summon him. He’d prepared for everything. Tactical to his very core.
Feeling hopeful for the first time in what felt like ages, I set the candles up in a circle and lit them, placed freshly cut ferns and bones down, then began the summoning. I used a bit of my own blood in offering, and fed the circle a few drops.
“By earth, blood, and bone. I invite thee. Come, enter this realm of man. Join me. Bound in this circle, until I send thee home.”
I knelt there, waiting for the telltale smoke of Wrath’s arrival. Seconds passed. I kept my hope in check. Last time, seconds after the incantation was done, the first signs of his arrival had occurred. Maybe, since he was greatly injured, he needed a bigger offering. I squeezed a few more droplets of blood into the circle. Nothing happened.
“Come on, demon.”
I went over the ritual again. Adjusting the ferns, bones, and candles until they formed a perfect circle. I set my ring inside the containment area, then dripped more blood.
“By earth, blood, and bone. I invite thee. Come, enter this realm of man. Join me. Bound in this circle, until I send thee home.”
I left out the Latin again, seeing as the last time it ended in an unplanned betrothal and Wrath said it wasn’t necessary. When all remained silent, I tried one final time, and used the same incantation that would bind us together in unholy matrimony if Wrath accepted it.
“By earth, blood, and bone. I invite thee. Come, enter this realm of man. Join me. Bound in this circle, until I send thee home. Aevitas ligati in aeternus protego.”
A stiff breeze blew one of the candles out. I waited, breath held, for the mighty demon of war to rise. Immortal. Furious. Breathtaking. I braced myself for a lecture that was sure to come. Moments came and went, but there was no smoke, or sign I’d summoned anything. I waited and waited. Birds began calling to each other outside; morning wasn’t far off. And the spell for Wrath could only be cast at night.
Still, I tried again, hoping this time would do it.
Eventually, the last of my hope was extinguished. Nonna said as long as he lived, Wrath would come. The fact that he didn’t appear filled me with dread. I thought back to the very beginning, when I’d prayed to the goddess of death and fury, and couldn’t help but wonder if she finally exacted the revenge I no longer wanted against him.
I watched the candles flicker, wishing they’d set the bedding and whole palace on fire. It would only be fitting for the rest of my world to go up in flames. Wrath was really, truly gone. And with him he’d taken the last of my hope.
The Horn of Hades was in my possession, but I wasn’t sure how to use it to close the gates of Hell. My family had fled, Antonio was kidnapped by Envy, and my best friend’s mind was still trapped between realms. Umbra demons had infiltrated this city, and I had no idea how to get rid of them all.
I blew out the summoning candles one by one until I was left completely in the dark.
FORTY-FIVE
By the time the sun spread its first rays across the sea, I was already dressed for battle. I stood in the mirror and finished braiding half my hair into a coronet, and left the other half down in loose waves. I secured the upper portion with two large diamond-encrusted olive branch clips that—with the exception of the precious stones—matched my new ring. I dabbed my lips with wine-colored stain and swept kohl across my lids.
I stepped back and admired my work; I looked dangerous. My dress was a deep berry with capped sleeves made entirely from gold scales. It was dark enough to hide blood, but wasn’t another all-black ensemble. I didn’t mind the color—it just felt too much like mourning.
