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Chapter 15
Ihad so many questions and an equal number of new fears. It was possible that everything Sylas had done and wanted still boiled down to ego and a need for control so large, he wanted to conquer both Kithonia and Earth with it. But raising a dead god and bringing him back to Kithonia was a whole new level of ego boost I didn’t know how to handle. Or plan for.
How did one plan for a dead god to return?
I needed more information. Sylas had made Dakta seem like some sort of savior, like a reward for all the suffering he’d caused that would bless all. But any god that only returned from exile after death, destruction, and cruelty was no god I wanted to meet, much less be forced to worship.
This had all started so small. Just me and a forge in a vampire’s lavish den. How had one book and a summoning spell landed me here?
I spent the morning alternating between staring longingly out the window, daydreaming of fulfilling my plan to kill Sylas and get back to Mrak, and pacing the length of this small room.
I had to agree to forge weapons for Sylas. It was the only way to get close to a forge with nightsteel and make something that I wouldn’t have to steal off of him to kill him with. Unless… I spun on heel and began pacing back toward the large windows.
Unless I stole the nightsteel blade right from his back. If I was quick enough, I could maybe do it in one motion. Draw, cut, stab. He’d be beheaded and all of this would be over.
I tapped my chin as I walked. It was a possibility, one that wouldn’t work unless I let Sylas close. And I had zero interest in letting him do that. Not as a man who was already banking on us marrying.
I should have never proposed anything close to that. But so many people had been dying. Sylas had been untouchable. And Mrak…
Seeing Mrak prone on the floor, vulnerable, did something to me I couldn’t explain. A piece of my heart had cracked and went feral, seeking the quickest and fastest way out of that situation.
Now I stood here in Kithonia’s capital. Waiting for Sylas to bring my best friend to me while I decided the risk of aiding Sylas with his plans against bettering the chances of my own.
Sometime later, after the afternoon had dragged on and the sun had lowered, guards entered my cell and led me away through the castle’s empty halls. Where Mrak had invited refugees into his home and now lived amongst his people, the only demons I saw here were guards. It backed up my guess that Sylas was indeed into the end stages of losing his mind, that he was so focused on his goal that paranoia had folded around him like a cocoon.
My hope at having those guesses confirmed were squashed as the guards abruptly stopped our forward movement outside a wide wooden door. The shorter one pushed it open, revealing a surprisingly opulent dining room. Where every other space in the castle that I’d seen had been wiped clear of lavish decor and wealthy touches, this dining room had been left unscathed.
A large, beautiful rectangular stone table with a dozen seats sat in the middle of the space beneath a domed stained-glass window. The setting sun touched the glass in such a way that it sent shards of rainbows across the table where, at separate ends, Willa sat with another woman. Both had been bound, their tied wrists anchored to rings built into the table near many plates of fine meals. The smell of delicious food made my stomach twist with nausea given the reason we were in this room in the first place.
Both Willa and Quinn both had deep circles under their eyes and dried blood along their bare arms that tracked up under their long tunics and pants.
But they were both here. And alive.
Relief rushed through me. My feet acted before my head, pressing off from the floor to get me to Willa’s side as her eyes widened.
“Aisling?”
One guard grabbed my arm and held me in place. For the first time, I was pretty sure I was now strong enough to best another shadow demon, despite this one being easily a full foot taller than me. But I didn’t.
“Sylas wants to make very clear that this is a show of good faith,” the guard warned in my ear. His breath smelled of brimstone and made my eyes water. “Try to escape with them or otherwise break that good faith, and he will make you watch as he bleeds them both dry.”
Like a vampire would.My skin crawled.
I shot the guard a glare. “Understood. Now let me go.”
He grunted an acknowledgement before letting go of my wrists and leaving the room. I glanced behind me, surprised that they’d just leave us in here alone unattended. But then I saw it—a glimmering on the walls and door.
“Protection magic,” Willa said. She sounded as tired as she looked. “They don’t trust you.”
“They shouldn’t.” I hurried to Willa’s side and cataloged her injuries. She looked exhausted, but the dried blood on her was from wounds that no longer existed, so I hugged her tight. “I’m so sorry, Willa. I’m sorry.”
Willa shook her head into my shoulder as she hugged me back. “It’s not your fault. They came for me maybe fifteen minutes after you left to confront Leif. Long before I heard about what happened at Cassius’s manor.”
I pulled back and couldn’t help the cringe from twisting my lips. “You heard about that?”
“Leif?” the other woman asked. Quinn, it must have been. She had Leif’s nose, the same color skin and eyes. She was shorter than him, but beautiful. “Do you know my brother?”
I nodded and went to her now, approaching slowly. Something about her bothered my awareness. It could’ve been that she was a demon hunter too, maybe. Also a Seer.
