Page 98 of Cathmoir's Sons

CAILEÁN

At a flick of my claws, the charred lump that was Kimberly Cavalo-Darling rises in the air. She uncurls slowly until she hangs, her feet not touching the ground, her blackened, eyeless, featureless head bent. She has no lips to shape words. No tongue. Perhaps no vocal cords. Each breath rattles through lungs crisper than rice paper.

Yet when she responds, we all hear her.

“I don’t make bargains with fae,” Kimberly hisses. “I don’t recognize your sovereignty or your right to judge me. Release me from this imprisonment.”

“No, murderess,” I respond. “You will answer for the life you took. If you wish to suffer, I will oblige you.”

“I took no life. My cousin sits right beside you, very much alive.”

“The Mother gave Rhodes back to us,” I say. “But make no mistake, he died. In my arms. At your hand.”

“Says you,” Kimberly retorts.

I circle my finger in the Air, spinning her like a top. “I think you’ll find my word carries weight here. Why did you seek refuge in Hell? Does Bromios still have allies there?”

Instead of answering, Kimberly begins to scream, high and sharp. I flick my claws again and the Air around her thickens, silencing her. I curl my fingers and the Air presses in, her burned flesh rippling from the pressure. When fresh blood bursts from her cracking skin, I release my Element.

“I don’t relish torturing you,” I tell her. “But don’t mistake my mercy for squeamishness. I’m happy to leave you here with the very Air forcing your blood out of your pores for a day or two until you feel like answering my questions.”

“Do it, monster,” Kimberly spits. “I expect no less from a fae.”

“Very well.” I pull on my Element and rise from my chair, holding my hands out to my consorts.

Rhodes takes my hand. Luca takes his and the deep magic surges between us.

I turn my head to look at Luca, who feels the pull at the same time I do.

“She’s dead either way,” he says. “Kill her now. I’ll catch her spirit.”

Despite harboring and calling the Shades of the Cait, I’m not a necromancer. Not the way Luca is. With his magic coursing through me, I feel all the ways he can shape the dead to his will. Dead-hand. Dead-foot. Dead-tongue.

I slip my hand out of Rhodes’. He’s a warrior, but at heart he’s a healer. I don’t want him to feel me kill.

Here, in the heart of my realm, it takes barely more than a thought.

I could finish crushing her, pulping her body with my Element until nothing solid remains. But I am not cruel by nature; I have no wish to make her suffer. A tug on my Element and I pull all the Air out of her burned lungs. It blows out aroundher in a shimmering bubble. Within the bubble, with nothing to breathe, her body convulses once, twice, a third and final time.

Luca reaches out his hand and grasps her spirit before it can flee.

I tickle my claws upward, drawing words out of her, however unwillingly.

“Bromios had allies in Hell. Licyssa promised sanctuary in the Dransbych. But her daughter betrayed us. When we tried to come through the Aquarius Guild’s star chamber, Mordeh closed the portal. It destroyed Sariel’s mortal Hand, Magnus. It nearly killed me. I barely had any magic left. I reached into the oldest source of magic I know: blood, family. I followed the blood trail of Rhodes’ healing, hoping it could also heal me, but the magic was gone. I called on Sariel, Melephesius, Alugiel. All those who promised themselves to Bromios but abandoned him after he failed at Jedburgh Abbey. Sariel drew me into Hell, but his portal closed before I reached him and I ended up in Olt, trying to find my way to him. The Erinyes found me first.”

I glance at my consorts to see what they think of this news. Law’s face has darkened. I can feel where his mind is moving. This is not the last hunt he will lead through Hell.

Rhodes looks troubled. Perhaps he hoped that Bromios was the only power that might seek to use him. Or perhaps he hoped his cousin could be redeemed. I take his hand again and squeeze gently so that he knows I am by his side, no matter what terrors arise.

I look to the others who circle the spirit of Kimberly Cavalo-Darling. “Ask whatever questions you wish. Her spirit will answer.”

The Capricorn speaks first, asking about the Cavalo-Darling side of Rhodes’ family. Other than hearing that many of them share an anti-fae agenda, Kimberly’s shade tells Evan nothing Idid not know. Rhodes doesn’t react outwardly to the Capricorn’s questions but his palm grows slick against mine.

Nimanes speaks next, offering sanctuary in her court in exchange for Kimberly’s soul. Kimberly quickly accepts and I wonder how heavy her sins must be for that to be an attractive bargain.

Baron Ash waives his opportunity to ask questions, perhaps in deference to Nimanes’ claim on the soul, or perhaps his questions have been answered already. He fought at the Capricorn’s side against the Thunderer. Will he feel the same against a triumvirate of greater powers?

When no one asks anything further of Kimberly’s spirit, Nimanes stretches out her clawed hand. The spirit rises in an agonized spiral, circles around Nimanes, and flutters down as a fresh strip on her cloak of skins.

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