Page 92 of A Match Made in Hell
Hours tick by as I talk and talk and talk until my throat is raw and my eyes are burning. She doesn’t interrupt. When I’ve finished, the room falls silent, until finally she says, ‘Huh.’
‘Huh?’ I force myself to sit up. ‘That’s all you have to say?’
‘It’s a lot to process. You’re the Queen of – oh, hey, your eyes are green again. That’s good, right?’
I grab a cushion and clutch it to my stomach. ‘For now. It won’t last. You saw me out there. I can’t control myself. I can’t . . . I can’t fix this.’
‘Sure you can.’ She taps her chin. I can only assume she fell asleep at some point during my story, because nothing about it suggests I am capable of fixing anything. I never have been. ‘We’ll think of something.’
She hops off the sofa and starts inspecting objects in the room, picking up books, board games, and discarded items of clothing one by one. ‘Everything here is so normal. I always pictured him living in a cave surrounded by deadly weapons.’
‘He’s not Batman.’ I pluck stray threads from the cushion,creating a pile of emerald strands on the arm of the sofa. Talking about Sath is akin to sliding a shard of glass through my chest. ‘He’s just . . . Sath.’
Harper hums distractedly, too busy nosing at his belongings to pay attention. She pauses at the sight of shattered bottles still littering the bar area from where I lost my temper at Sath the other day.
‘You know, this explains a lot.’ She begins sweeping the shards into a paper towel. ‘When I first arrived, everything was beige. I kept saying to people who’d been dead longer, if I can make everything in my room bright pink,whycan’t the rest of Asphodel be that pretty? I never got a straight answer. Then lava started gushing out of walls that were slowly turning black, and I thoughtoh, that’s why.We’re not allowed nice things. But that wasn’t down to Asphodel at all, was it? It was Sath.’
Black smoke puffs from my arms. Sheshouldbe allowed nice things. They all should. This place is supposed to be a middle ground, but between the demons’ interference and Sath’s loss of control it’s slipped the wrong way, like a set of brass scales that have failed to remain balanced because they’ve been weighed down with awfulness on one side.
But take the weight off, and equilibrium would be restored.
I straighten. ‘What if I could give you nice things?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re right. Asphodel falling apartwasdown to Sath, because he allowed the demons to make this place worse than it’s supposed to be. So, why couldn’tImake it better?’
Harper contemplates this, collecting the final shards of broken glass and tossing them into the bin before smiling slyly. ‘Better like . . . turning the lava pink?’
I suppose we all have our priorities.
‘I’ll take the idea under consideration,’ I deadpan. ‘I was thinking more . . . putting it back the way it was. If I couldlearn how to use these powers, maybe I could use my magic to repair all the things that were destroyed. All the rooms that were flooded. Regrow the plants that have died. I could –’
My mind races with possibilities. I’d need to find a way to deal with the demons first, because if they’re walking around making me angry all day there’s no way I’ll be turning this place beige, let alone a colour of Harper’s choosing, if I’m generous enough to let her pick.
But if therewasa way to get them in line . . .
There are infinite possibilities for what I could do next. I’ve been so busy moping about Sath, stressing about the demons and worrying about powers I don’t understand, I haven’t taken the time to think there’s another side to all this. A better side.
A side that’s mine to decide.
When I put that heart in my chest, it was like being shoved in a high-speed vehicle and forced to drive without being asked if I knew how. And while my steering may still be jerky, I’m starting to see multiple destinations in my mind’s eye, but it’s my choice – andonlymy choice – which one I aim for.
I just need to work out how to get there without falling apart. ‘This is all contingent on me learning how this magic works, of course, and not setting everybody on fire the moment I see a demon.’
Easier said than done. The only time my magic seems to manifest is when I want to hurt something, which is the opposite of my end goal here. It’s a pity Sath didn’t have the good sense to leave me an instruction manual before I had him imprisoned.
I ignore the way my skin prickles when I think his name.
And I ignore the nagging, buzzing feeling in the back of my brain that tells me to pay attention to the solution I know is right there.
Harper drops down beside me. ‘I agree, learning about your powers would be the best way forward.’
‘Good.’ I nod. ‘I’m . . . glad. That we agree.’
The ensuing silence feels loaded, like we’re both well aware of the truth we’re skirting around but don’t want to acknowledge out loud. Or at least,Idon’t.
‘How do you think you might do that?’ Harper asks in a manner I might describe aspointed.
