Page 97 of A Haven of Brimstone and Darkness

He chuckles and the sound reverberates through his chest and into my side, distracting me. “You’re still little enough to sit on my lap,” he counters and then as if to prove his point, he leverages up to his feet. His arms close around me, lifting me easily. “See,” he prompts, hefting me against his chest as he takes a turn around the side of our cabin, holding me high so that I have to toss one hand over his shoulder or risk slipping out of his hold.

“You don’t count!” I squeal, laughing even as he jostles me with each massive stride. “You’re big enough to carry grown men!”

Dad chuckles at my response and despite the fact that he built this cabin with his own hands before I’d even been born, he ducks beneath the front door frame, which has, for as long as I can remember, been a bit too low for him, and carries me inside. Apparently, he’d been quite young when he’d built the place and not yet done growing into his adult body ... or so he’s said.

Inside the house, he gently sets me down between the table and the fireplace, still smoldering with heat from an earlier fire. The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles down at me and crouches low.

“Now, are you going to tell me why you’re upset, little one?”

I frown. WhyamI upset? Something niggles at the back of my mind, warning me of an impending threat. I glance around our cabin, taking in the old decor—all of the hand carved furniture, even the pieces that I’d made, though those are far more scarred than Dad’s handiwork.

I don’t want to think about things that upset me, I just want to stay here with Dad. Holding my arms out to him, I offer him a smile. “I’m not upset,” I tell him. “I’m happy to be here with you.”

Dad straightens to his full height and his expression changes, morphing into one of sad amusement. That doesn’t make sense though. Those two emotions don’t go together. Why would he be amused and sad at the same time?

“I’m glad to hear that, little one,” Dad says, “but you know that you can’t stay here forever. There’s a life waiting for you out there.”

I bite down on my lip and turn away from him, folding my arms over my chest. The scratchy feeling of my loose handmade tunic is too much against my sensitive skin. “I don’t want a life out there,” I tell him. “It hurts. People hurt me. If I stay here with you, I’m safe.”

His hand strokes my hair back as he gently turns me to face him again. Dad’s face is clearer than it has been in years—I see it so well now, all of the details I’d forgotten. There’s a small cut on the underside of his jaw, the line pale against his tanned skin.

“You’re always safe with me, baby girl,” Dad tells me. He continues to pet my hair, moving the strands out of my face. “But you’re all grown up now. Little girls don’t need their daddies when they grow up.”

“I—” I’m grown up? That’s what I’d said earlier, but … I glance down at my hands. They reflect the size of a child’s. “I’m not grown up.”Am I?

“You are,” Dad insists. His palm leaves my head and I jerk up, reaching for him again but he steps out of my reach. “I know you’re scared, little one,” he says, walking backwards until he’s a good several feet from me. “It’s a scary world beyond these walls.”

I nod. Itisa scary world. “Why can’t I stay with you?” Will he reject me? Will he leave me again? Tears fill my eyes and slip over my cheeks. I can’t bear it. I can’t do this again. “I don’t want to be alone,” I cry.

He tilts his head to the side. “Oh baby girl, you’re not alone. You haven’t been alone in a long time. You have friends, you have loves. They’re there for you. They’re waiting. Don’t you remember?”

A memory snaps into place. Kalix and Theos laughing at a prank they’d played on one of their classmates during training. Ruen’s dark brow as he’d quietly shook his head at the two of them in reproof, and me—I’d been the only one to see Ruen’s secret smile, the amusement he’d felt at his brothers’ antics. Friends. Loves. They’re waiting for me.

I jump from the seat and rush forward. With each step my legs grow, lifting me up and up and up until I’m at my natural height and not that of a nine-year-old girl. I fling my arms around my father’s form and cling to him.

“I love you,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”Little slivers of shadow pop up along my forearms, curling down from me until they form a curtain-like image, swaying around me.

“There, there, now.” My father soothes me in that deep baritone of his. “There’s no apologies here, little one.” After a beat, he grips my arms and sets me back. “Now, as much as I was overjoyed to see you again, it’s time for you to go.”

I look to the front door of our cabin, where an unusual light has begun to creep in around the cracks. “Do you still think of her?” I ask.

Silence meets my question and I force my eyes back to his. The second our gazes connect, he responds. “Every single second she is away from me,” my father murmurs. “The same as you, baby girl.”

More tears streaks down my face. This time, it doesn’t feel weak to let them surface.

“Go.” My father gestures for the door. “They’re waiting.”

Turning, I follow the command, letting my hand find the door handle and ripping it open without looking back as the entire world turns white because I’m the darkness here.

I come awake with a gasp,sitting up on a stone platform only to be shoved back down. “Enough!” Tryphone yells, his face a mask of anger as he hovers over me with a blade in hand. Turning my cheek as it scrapes the stone, I find that we’re not alone.

Ariadne’s body is a crumpled heap on the steps beneath the dais and the Darkhavens are each set on their knees, bodies bared and bleeding with various Gods at their back. A panting, sliced up Azai gripping Theos around his neck. A furious Gygaea, holding onto Ruen’s form with her nails sinking into his shoulder. A grim-faced Makeda and tear-streaked Danai on either side of Kalix—who appears even more wild than the scene.

His nostrils flare and there are snakes curling around him, biting at each bit of flesh they can get close to. Those snakes creep up Danai and Makeda’s limbs, wrap around their wrists and legs as if controlling their movements. Black veins arch up the Goddesses’ throats and their lips are a dull purple—serpent venom.

They are not working with Tryphone of their own free will.

Of all of them, however, Caedmon is the closest as he stands before Tryphone and me on the opposite side of the platform from the God King.

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