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Daeva coughed, stepping back when the rancid odor of the beast’s belch hit her like a skillet to the head.
“Then my second wish,” Jezebeth continued, “is for a way to restore Elria’s memories to Eilea.”
Brilliant. Why hadn’t Daeva thought of that?
The beast’s wide smile was an image of nightmares, the inside of his throat a dark, endless chasm.I was wondering when you’d ask.
He disappeared beneath the water for several tense minutes, only reappearing with what looked like a glass-blown bottle with a wide bottom and narrow top. He held it in a tiny appendage that sprouted from his side like an eye on a potato. Daeva hadn’t realized the beast had arms. He released the bottle, letting it float toward Jezebeth.
She grabbed it, frowning while examining the smooth, colored glass. “What is this?”
A lacrimarium. Some also call it a vessel of tears.
“What does it do?”
It will help Eilea remember,the beast answered.Elria gave it to me for safekeeping shortly before the Vindictus attack.
“She knew they were coming?” Jezebeth blurted, giving Hecate a questioning look when she came up beside her.
Hecate refused to acknowledge Jezebeth’s question, most likely out of guilt. Daeva suspected this because many of her own past life memories had come back. One memory was especially troubling—Hecate had ignored Elria’s warnings of a dark premonition. Though she loved her mates’ mother, she couldn’t deny her disappointment in Hecate’s grave error in judgment. Her neglect had ended in many lost souls and nearly three thousand years of heartache.
Elria could feel an ominous threat growing,the beast said,but they used celaris magic to block her from seeing what they were planning.
The beast gave Hecate a knowing look, the tension between them as thick as stew. The beast obviously hadn’t forgiven Hecate for her error in judgment. Hecate had thought they were too powerful to be conquered, which was why she hadn’t prepared for the attack.
Jezebeth held out the glass vase. “What’s in it?”
Elria’s tears, of course.The beast spoke as if he was addressing a child.They hold her memories.
Her eyes widened, and she cradled the vase as if it was a newborn babe. “How do I transfer them to Eilea?”
A simple spell: ‘vita memini.’ You must get close to Eilea and uncork the bottle. Then whisper the spell.
Daeva shook her head. How were they to get close to Eilea if her mates wouldn’t let them near her? She was about to ask the beast when he let out a blubbery sound, a ripple racing across his skin and filling the air with a disgusting, pungent smell like fermented eggs. Not that she ever wanted to know what an ancient, primordial djinn fart smelled like, but now she certainly knew. She covered her mouth and nose with a groan while fighting back the contents of her stomach.
“But, but,” Jezebeth protested while pinching her nose.
I have answered enough of your questions,the beast said to her.What is your third wish?
Jezebeth’s shoulders fell. “How do we save Phoenix from the second dimension?”
The folds on the beast’s bulbous forehead fell forward.You don’t wish to know the answer to that question.
“Of course I do.” Jezebeth sneered. “My baby girl is in danger!”
The answer lies within your own heart, for it’s a sacrifice only a mother could make.
Jezebeth’s mouth fell open as she looked around at everyone. “What does that mean?”
The beast let out another fart, this one louder and more pungent than the first. It was so bad, it steamed Daeva’s eyes.
I’ve answered enough of your questions,he grumbled. And with that, he slunk back beneath the fog like a crocodile submerged beneath a swamp, leaving his smoldering smell. Daeva couldn’t get away fast enough.
* * *
PHOENIX STOOD IN FRONTof the hissing cat, her limbs trembling while the demon wolves approached, their claws raised, and saliva dripping off their long maws, sizzling when it hit the ground. Great. They could spit poison. As if they weren’t deadly enough.
Neither of her mates seemed to recognize her, their glowing eyes full of menace and hunger. They looked different. Their patchy fur had grown back into long, stringy gray strands, but they still had several black holes, like cigarette burns, marring their faces. One was missing his nose, an empty cavity in its place, another the tips of his ears, and another his eye. Their bones made crackling noises when they walked. They obviously hadn’t gotten enough blood. The smell of decay wasn’t as strong, but it was still there, hanging in the air like a plague.
