I mirror his movements, adding my own choreography to the dance; I twist my hands, clench my fingers, and even stomp my feet. It’s no use. Our magic doesn’t work here. Hoping to save us from certain death, I’ve mistakenly placed us in an even more precarious situation. Fates, the only thing we have on our side here are our wits and Noxen’s shadow dagger.

  The hell hounds advance, snarling and salivating. The four large, black, dog-like creatures have hunched shoulders and curled horns instead of ears. Their pointed snouts are home to glistening fangs… two rows of them. As they approach, their short fur ripples and bunches, revealing the power in their muscles.

  As I snake an arm behind my back, reaching for the dagger, one of the hounds lunges and barks. I jump back and stab my arm forward, knife in hand. Of course, the hound doesn’t even flinch under the threat of a blade.

  The other three hounds echo the bravery of the first, bounding closer. A wave of panic and dread washes over me, a cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. A metallic taste coats my tongue—the taste of fear. With shaking hands and weak legs, I straighten my spine and aim the dagger at one of the middle hounds. I won’t let this beat me; I have too much to live for.

  “You would fight?” asks Hades. “No one ever fights the hounds. How did you overcome the fear when the man did not?”

  Surprised, I side eye Rone. He’s frozen, eyes wide and filled with horror. Turning back to the king of the underworld, I ask, “What’s wrong with him?”

  “My hounds immobilize their prey with a shock wave of pure terror. They feast on your fear.”

  In response to his words, the hounds snap their teeth, snarling at me before turning to Rone. I leap in front of him, acting as a human shield. Not that it helps much. He towers over me. But I’ll damn well try to protect him, even if it’s the last thing I do.

  “Get back!” I shout, waving the dagger like a crazed lunatic. “I’ll stab you. I swear I will!”

  The hounds whimper and halt. Hades snaps his head to them. “Remarkable.”

  “I’ll stab you, too. I don’t give a shit if you’re the king of this dump or not.” As soon as I point the dagger at Hades, the hounds snarl and resume their advance. “Call off your dogs and let us leave.”

  “You expect me to deny my beauties this pleasure?”

  “I won’t go down without a fight, Satan,” I growl.

  In an instant, Hades is in my face, his body floating behind him like some kind of smoke veil. “Lucifer and I are not alike. It is time the humans realised we are not one and the same.”

  Oops. Sore spot, I guess.

  “What’s in this for you?” I wonder aloud. “What do you get out of helping Silas Alston?”

  “I get my realm back,” he says, retreating.

  Frowning, I say, “I don’t understand.”

  “Come. Let me show you.”

  After Hades calls off his hounds, Rone and I follow him through the castle. The invisible walls and floors come into view as he passes, as if he’s painting them into existence with each step. What was a black abyss when we arrived, turns into a grand entrance of black marble with deep red velvet drapes hanging over windows taller than I am. It would be beautiful if it weren’t so creepy.

  Even though there’s nothing to absorb the sounds of our footsteps, our journey through the room is soundless. Even the snarls of the hell hounds trailing behind grow silent the further in we go.

  As if triggered by thought alone, the room changes as we walk and I can’t tell if we’re walking on the spot or if we’re making progress. We pass through an elegant sitting room, climb hardwood staircases, weave around towering bookshelves, and even stroll through a garden of blood-red roses. We continue on through an array of rooms until we come upon a balcony closed off by black lace.

  The hounds whimper and take to the floor, resting their snouts on their paws. It’s kind of cute.

  Hades pulls the lace aside and waves us through. “Behold my kingdom, the Underworld. One third of it, in fact. The Hell realm.”

  Holy Hell.

  Desolate. That’s the only word to describe my first impression of our immediate surroundings. A wasteland of black sand interspersed with dying clumps of grass separates the castle from the rest of Hell. Volcanoes spew lava in the distance, a smoky haze settling like fog. There are caves, huts made of bones, and even a colosseum. But that’s not what Hades wants to show us.

  Mayhem. As I take in the smaller details, I can see the Underworld is in utter chaos. Everywhere I look, there are demons fighting. Squabbling over carcasses, territory, or for no apparent reason.

  “Isn’t this normal?” I ask. “I mean, it’s Hell, right? Demons fight.”

  “No, this isn’t the norm. My shadows usually live in relative peace. But for the past twenty-five years, factions have been at war, fighting for what’s left of magic,” he says.

  “Losing the portal has affected you here, too?” asks Rone.

  Anguish. It’s hard to miss the look of complete hopelessness on Hades’ face, even if his features are blurred and undistinguishable. I’d know that feeling anywhere. I look back out over the view while Hades tells us his story.

  “For millennia, the shadows of Hell have fed off the residual magic of the magical beings who pass through. Mages from Talaron and the fae from Faerie hold the most magic when they arrive. The vampires, witches, Opal Wolves, and the rest of the creatures from Earth aren’t enough to sustain us here.

  “Magical energy provides sustenance for my demons until the deceased have atoned for their sins and can move on to the afterlife—Nirvana. Since the destruction of the Faerie portal, more people are passing through without magic; it’s been going back to the land, instead.

  “As you can imagine, Hell’s delicacy being so scarce has caused several problems. Lucifer, who is already a pain in my ass, has encouraged the dissent. Another year, and I’d have a war on my hands.”

  “A war in Talaron is okay, but not a war in Hell?” I ask.

  “It’s not just Hell. Lucifer has been fighting for admittance to Eden,” he says.

  Eden? As in…

  “I take it you don’t know the inner workings of the Underworld?” he asks.

  “Hell, ruled by Lucifer, is self-explanatory,” says Rone. “Eden is what you might know as Heaven, kind of like a prize for the do-gooders of the world. Uranus watches over Eden and the angels. Thanatos is the keeper of Nirvana—the afterlife—where we all end up, eventually.”

  Hades swipes a hand through the air, like he’s turning the page of an over-sized book. The scene changes to one of unparalleled beauty. Rolling green hills dotted with wildflowers, waterfalls sparkling under the bright sun, and wispy clouds; it’s an idyllic summer.

  I can’t hold in my gasp upon seeing Eden’s angels. Some with silver wings, some with gold, and others with wings of a white so bright it hurts to look at.

  One of the white-winged angels leaps to the balcony, hovering right in front of me. Their gender is impossible to determine, but they’re breathtaking. They give me a sad smile and reach out with a finger toward my time rune. A sense of calm and peace washes over me before it disappears with the angel in a blur of white.

  A whisper floats through my mind. “Wait. See. Feel.”

  “What was…” I gulp. “That was an angel?”

  “Rhamiel is one of Eden’s guardian angels. They have several charges on Earth, Faerie, and in Talaron. You are one of them, Embry. Rhamiel was distraught when you received the time rune. It was but one way they guide you,” says Hades.

  I don’t have the capacity for more pain; it breaks my heart to think I hurt an angel. So I point to one of the silver-winged beauties. “Why does he look so sad?”

  “Ah, Chamuel. The archangel of peace. You can imagine the pain he is experiencing. Which is why I agreed to help Silas when he summoned me,” says Hades. “He gave me one day to absorb as much magic as Hell needed if I sent my shadows to join his army. I had no choice but to accept. Eden needs protecting.”

  “But if we restore the Faerie portal, won’t magic start filtering in to Hell?” I ask. “Once Talaron and Faerie have repaired their balance, all will be right again.”

  “I was unaware of the portal restoration when I gave him my word. In fact, Silas confided in me that the portal could not be fixed. I am truly sorry for my part in this.”

  “There’s nothing we can do?” asks Rone.

  Hades doesn’t answer. Instead, we all watch the angels and souls of Eden, absorbing the moment of peace before Rone and I have to return to our lives in Talaron. Before we have to return and fight for our lives and the lives of our loved ones.

  Several bright souls materialise on the rolling hills. They each lift their faces to the sky and breathe deeply. An archangel meets them at the base of the hill. Some of them look familiar, but…

  “Holy shit, Rone,” I say, fighting the tears in my eyes. “That’s your mother!”

  Rone grips the balcony’s railing so hard his knuckles turn white. My heart shatters at the pure agony written across his features. I’d do anything to take that pain away.

  Hades, fearing for the structural stability of his castle, grips his shoulder. “I am sorry for your loss. Your mother will be safe with Azrael.”

  Watching as more souls arrive in Eden, I’m saddened to see most of them are fae and mages from the battle in Everdawn Forest. We’re losing. Epically.

  “I’ll go back and fix this, Rone. I promise.” Something occurs to me that hasn’t crossed my mind before. So, I turn to Hades and ask, “What happens when I go back in time? I mean, do souls who have crossed over go back to their bodies?”

  “It speaks volumes that you would ask such a thing. You have a kind soul, Embry,” he says. “Yes, the souls return to their bodies. Those who were in Hell spend whatever remains of their lives trying to atone. They don’t remember Hell or the demons, but they have an echo of their time here. It’s enough for them to change their path, whatever it is. Those in Eden suffer a lot more. Some who return to their lives spend the rest of their days aching to return, but unable to remember where it is they wish to return to.”

  Shit.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “There was no way to know. I didn’t… I’m just sorry. But I have to go back one more time. Then, I hope to never use my time magic again.”

  Hades cocks an eyebrow. “How far back do you intend to go?”

  “Well, that depends on when Alston summoned you.” I watch Jania as she talks with Azrael, my plan forming in time with my words. “If I can go back to before you agree to help Alston, we’ll have the upper hand in the battle. We’ll know where he’ll be, who will be with him, and what he plans to do next. Without your shadows interfering with our war, we’ll win, and we will restore magic.”

  Hades nods. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  “There’s just one problem for you, though,” I say, smirking.

  “What’s that?” he asks.

  “You’re about to gain another soul in Hell. One your demons will fight over. Silas Alston will join you in Hell before the sun rises over Talaron.”

  Hades walks us back to the entrance hall. This time, the castle doesn’t change as we walk. We exit the balcony and descend the hardwood staircase, arriving in the black marble entrance hall in a quarter of the time it took earlier. The hell hounds follow behind like docile puppies, sniffing at random corners and leaving puddles of drool in their wake. I reason that their behaviour reflects Hades’ mood.

  Which is unpredictable.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” asks Rone as we prepare to leave.

  I nod. “Yes. It’s not like I’m losing years of my life or anything. Besides, it’ll be worth it when we win. We’ll finally be free.” When all he does is run a hand through his hair, I smile. “You’re dealing with this rather well.”

  “By now, I’ve learned there’s no changing your mind when it’s set on something. As much as I’d love to lock you up until this is all over so I can keep you safe, I know I can’t. No amount of begging on my part will sway you.” He sighs. “Just promise to be careful.”

  “I promise.”

  Hades clears his throat. “I blocked the rift when we came through. You’ll be returning to a furious king. Remember, I cannot call the shadows back; I gave Silas my word. When you are ready to change time, you will know. You need to see first.”

  What does he mean? The emphasis he placed on ‘ready’ wasn’t accidental; the god of the Underworld does nothing by accident. When I’m ready… I’ll know. I’ll know. Is it a warning to hold off on the time jump? To wait for the perfect moment?

  I’ve never been good at waiting.

  And what do I need to see first? I know how desperately Alston wants to control everyone and everything, and I know just how far he’s willing to go to fill the void in his life. What more do I need to see?

  A churning grey and purple cloud forms behind us, sucking us into its depths. I grab Rone’s hand and nod to Hades in thanks.

  He offers a grim smile in return and says, “Good luck, child.”

  twenty-four

  My thoughts are still a swirling mess as I consider when I’ll be ready to change time when we’re thrown from the churning Hell rift in a flash of red lightning.

  Rone and I aren’t given a chance to acclimate. As soon as our feet touch down on the black sand of Shadow Harbour, Alston shouts for our capture. Four of Hell’s shadows close in around me, four more restrain Rone. His calm demeanour and set jaw are signs of his resiliency, signs he’s confident I can undo all of this. His surety in my success is the confidence boost I need.

  So, when the demons cloak me in shadow and I’m plunged into icy darkness, I don’t flinch, and I don’t fight. What I do, though, is remember the seer from the market in Nevrosa. She told me darkness was coming for me, that I’d feel the cold and unbearable grief, and my powers would be sought after. Rone thought she was an old crackpot. Now? Fates, she was right.

  “The helios is coming with me,” says Alston. “Kill the boy.”

  A grunt chases the echo of a thud. Both are followed by a sickening squelch and a groan. I force my helios powers to the surface, battling against the shadows that bind me. Sweat beads on my forehead from the exertion. I can’t do it; my powers can’t rid the shadows. I can’t… I just… “Rone?”

  “I love you, Bloom.” His voice is a wet gurgle. “Wait. See.”

  “Rone!” I scream. “No!”

  Why can’t I move in these fucking shadows? Why can’t my powers lift the darkness? Rage and unbearable grief burn hot in my hands, bubble in my stomach, and hiss through my clenched teeth. Octavia, Juniper, Clovis, Jania, Rone… Those are just the people I’ve lost today. It’s reasonable to say Alston is to blame for Marina’s death, Crystal’s, and Indigo’s. One hundred percent, he’s to blame for the deaths of Reed, Cleo, Finch, and Glenn. Nova and Amaris, who died in the Prince’s Courtship, their deaths land on the king’s shoulder’s, too.

  So many innocent lives.

  I let the pain overwhelm my every sense, I wait as it fills every inch of my lungs, and I relish in the way it tenses my muscles. With an almighty roar, I release my anguish into the world.

  It flows out in waves of heat, flashes of light, and the sizzling crackle of electricity. It has no master, no target, and no fucks to give. The powers decimate everything in the vicinity. I am the reckoning. No longer am I Embry Bloom, problem child. No. I’m Embry Bloom, the bringer of revenge and fury.

  Embry Bloom, badass.

  My helios powers must catch the demon blinding me, because in a flash of dim light, I’m blessed with my sight again. I blink, taking in the carnage.

  Every shadow of Hell has fallen, inky black blood seeping from multiple wounds, and acrid smoke curling to the sky. The handful of royal guards are crumpled heaps of teal and red. Noxen lies in the sand at my feet, rigid as a board, steam billowing from a number of places; I electrocuted him.

  No. My powers did this.

  My breath escapes in a huff at the sight of Alston. The heat of my helios has melted his clothes, hair, and jewellery. It’s charred his skin, and the stench wafts toward me.

  Covering my mouth and nose with the back of my hand, I look past the gaping wound in his cheek—and swallow the nausea at being able to see straight into his mouth—into his lifeless eyes. He should be unrecognisable, but there’s no mistaking the glint of malice that remains in his golden eyes, even in death.

  A shockwave of power drifts away in a circle, with me as its centre. My helios powers, doing as they wish, blast through the Forest of Eternal Dusk at my back, and across the churning ocean ahead. I try to call them back, but nothing happens except a knocking against my skull. A thud that says, “We’re in control now.”

  The only person to remain untouched by my magic is Rone. He’s curled around himself to my right, Noxen’s shadow dagger beside him, lying in a pool of blood.

  My legs are leaden, but I force them to move and race to Rone, skidding on the damp sand. Collapsing to my knees beside him, I rest a shaking hand on his cheek while tears flow freely down mine. “I’m so sorry,” I croak. “I’ll fix this.”

  My tears drip to the sand and I wonder exactly how I’m going to do that. How am I going to fix this? Alston took my onyx ring; without the stone from the Circlet of Alba, I have no control of my helios magic. I scramble across the sand, only cringing a little when I search around Alston for any sign of my ring.

  I find it wedged under his leg and wiggle it free, slicing through the charred skin as if it’s butter. The second it’s placed in my palm, the twisted metal heats and gives way. The onyx rolls out and cracks in half.

  Fuck!

  “No,” I whimper. “No, no.”

  I try pushing the pieces back into place, but it’s no use. The ring is ruined, the stone is destroyed, and I’m no longer in control of my magic. Why did I listen to Rhamiel, Hades, and Rone? Why did I wait? I could have already turned back time. We could already be winning.

  “Embry?”

  I startle at the voice and jump to my feet, hastily wiping my tear-stained cheeks. “Hades? What are you doing back here?”

 

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