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The world was unraveling, faster than she could stitch it together. Clearly the demons’ bloodlust remained unsated after Mythhaven, for now their savagery reduced the gnomes’ idyllic realm to nothing but smoldering embers.
The endless deathly silence still etched itself into her mind, echoing the void left behind. All those subterranean places and temples and monuments consumed by those haunting blue flames. The rivers of flawless gems thick with blood and carnage. The gnomes were a peaceful people, thriving on goodwill and love. Now, all that glory was ash.
Styx hated she couldn’t stop the destruction, the death. Which was a funny feeling. Usually, she embraced death in all its forms. Most days, death was beautiful.
But the slaughter of the gnomes felt vicious.
And so here she stood, drenched in the stench of tainted magic, blood, and decay.
Somehow, she now found herself outside Caleb’s house, picturing those friendly walls reduced to ash like the gnomes’ subterranean grandeur. Or his precious books and scrolls consumed by unnatural flames, as vicious as the ones still echoing through her mind.
She shouldn’t be here, lingering in the vulnerable dark. Not just because Caleb was a human, venerable and easy to kill. But because if she ended up tainting his innocence with the stench of magic and death still clinging to her... she couldn’t live with herself.
Holding on to regrets for eternity was a daunting prospect. She’d watched Rowan wilt under hers, and Styx knew she wasn’t strong enough to bear it.
Still, being this close to him lifted an unseen burden. The dreadful knot in her being was loosening, relaxing, unraveling. If only slightly. Styx wanted to forget these events, if only for a while.
All those conflicting feelings crashed around her chest. Swirling and churning. Rippling and ricocheting. Tearing her apart in a way that she didn’t know existed.
Fear exploded. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be entertaining such thoughts, being so weak. No, her muscles tensed, ready to flee into the night.
The porch light flared on, casting the yard in a wash of dim yellow. Shadows stretched outward from each blade of grass like gnarled fingers grasping from graves. The bumps and knots of stone and wood swelled into looming mountains, wrapped in darkness’s embrace.
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Frozen half-in-motion, Styx watched the figure emerge from the blackness as if birthed by the night itself. The two worlds collided—light and dark, life and death, mortal and immortal. But as the figure stepped forward, she sensed no battle between them. Only a tentative meeting. Perhaps even the initial steps of a dance.
Caleb.
Their eyes locked, a silent invitation, and acceptance exchanged.
Without words, he opened the door. Hinges creaked and wood groaned against the floorboards as the entrance yawned open. Rusty metal screeched, silencing the silence.
Wordlessly, he led the way, and she followed. The kitchen remained cool, illuminated solely by a bar of light emanating from the hallway, casting shadows across the tile floors. Her shoes clicked softly, and the soles of her feet welcomed the chill seeping through. Like a gentleman, he pulled out a chair for her. It scraped against the floor as he drew it back. She exhaled, the knot in her chest loosening slightly as she sank into its padded embrace.
Styx let out another breath, hoping it didn’t sound ragged and worn. Caleb shuffled around the kitchen before setting a steaming mug of tea in front of her.
Needing that warmth, she grabbed the cup and clenched it tightly. For a brief second, it was her lifeline to sanity. Then the floodgates opened.
“I can’t stop the demons,” she blurted. “It doesn’t matter what we do or how we plan. Those bastards are always a step ahead. Which is both frustrating and a bad sign.”
Needing a moment to collect herself, she sipped the tea.
“I take it things are going badly?”
“Yes, I’m so afraid that these demons are more powerful than us. In terms of raw strength, we can’t seem to compete with them. If they decided to, they could kill us all.”
Caleb choked on his drink. “Kill? You? Death? Or this you? Are you two different?”
Styx smiled, finally finding some relief. “No, we’re the same person. I’m just a lot more scary and powerful as Death. But it would take the same effort to end Styx as it would Death.”
“I’ll do my part in preventing that.”
Styx threw her head back and laughed. “You?” She laughed harder. “A puny human? Who lacks even a touch of magic? Ha!”
He puffed out his chest. “I could pull a Lily Potter and sacrificial protection charm...or there are several others I can try. As an example, if we had some time for preparation, I would brew a potion.”
“A potion?”
“Sure, Everlong taught me one with ancient oak acorn, silver threads and shared secrets. That could work. I could also break out my tears of remorse. I don’t have a lot of those, but you’re worth it! If all else fails, I’ll throw my body across yours and shield you.”
“You’d sacrifice yourself for me?”
Styx watched in the dim light as a splash of red sprouted on his cheeks. The sight of the color dusting his forehead and neck held her in a mesmerized state of fascination.
“Well, uh, yeah. I, uh, owe you. Yeah, I’m in your debt, so I would.”
She slapped his back, probably too hard because he lurched forward. “Thanks, Cal.”
“Caleb. But you’re not in danger, right?”
She sipped from her mug. “Yes. The rest of the horsewomen and I are in a lot of trouble. Being overpowered as they are, the demons can swoop in and end us. It’s what they did to Mythhaven, to the gnomes.”
Caleb choked on his drink. “Gnomes?”
“Yeah.” She swirled her cup. “Cal, it was horrible. And this is coming from someone who loves horrible. Because horrible usually has casualties, and I love a good casualty. But what the demons did to Mythhaven, and the gnomes, was in the ‘terrible’ horrible category.”
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“I’ve been to Mythhaven once, with Everlong. What did they do?”
“Destroy. The main house suffered heavy damage, and the barn is gone. But they decimated the populations of magical creatures there. Scores are dead, their souls missing. It was a clusterfuck of epic proportions.”
“Is Kendal and Silas okay?”
“Kendal sustained serious injuries. We haven’t found Silas. But Kendal is confident that he’s alive, just missing. But he has a special type of magic. The demons haven’t seemed interested in seeking that type out yet.”
“Damn, that really sucks. Did you say gnomes earlier?”
“They aren’t lawn decorations; gnomes are a real magical creature. They’re essential for good soil and the quality of precious gems. In about a year, you’ll hear about problems with porous stones.
“They’re one of my favorite creatures. Their home realm is both mountain and field. These vast tracks of land are under these enormous mountain ranges. It’s beautiful. Since they have an infinity over precious gems, they’re everywhere. Even the rivers are gems.”
Styx smiled, remembering the underground cities. “They make lanterns from flawless diamonds. The light just sparkles so brightly it’s captivating. Children would string the flakes of rubies and moonstone across doorways and windows. Everything was always so colorful.”
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“Oh no. Are they all dead?”
“No,” Styx said. “Thankfully, some escaped, but the demons destroyed their home realm. Now, the survivors must start all over.”
Caleb reached out, locking fingers with hers. Her first instinct was to pull away, shout some colorful expletives, and cast a hex or two at him. But she only squeezed tighter.
“I just.” She ran her fingers across his knuckles. Noting the little imperfections here and there. “I have this terrible feeling that I’ll fail. That failure will be the end of Earth and the known magical realms.”
“No, you’ve kept everything safe all this time.”
She let a small smile touch the edges of her lips. Oh, to be so optimistic.
“We have, but we also haven’t faced a challenge like this. They have a magic that none of us have seen before. We still don’t know what it is, or how they access it.”
“They don’t have the Creator’s magic?” he set down the half-empty mug.
“No, they have something older, I think. At least it feels old when they use it. It’s deeper somehow, more...primal? I don’t even know how to describe it.”
She brought her hand up and rolled her fingers. Within seconds, dark wisps sprouted. They splashed and morphed as she moved. Sometimes the color was so dark it could be black, others it held a blue sheen only to blur into deep purple.
[https://i.imgur.com/RFAZUM8.png]
“Creator magic is power, yes. It’s the spark that ignited the stars, the force that breathed life into barren worlds. But this demon magic...it’s warmer, more elemental. Ancient in a way I’ve never encountered.”
Caleb leaned forward. “Really? What are the aftereffects? Have you noticed? Creator magic is unique because they originally formed it from companionship and cooperation. So that leans more towards the positive side of the spectrum. Which is why the effects are generally growth, healing, and that sort of thing.”
Having this type of conversation with a human was startling for Styx. There were plenty of human-like creatures that contained power, and she spoke with them frequently. But speaking of these with a mortal who contained no magic was another thing altogether.
She shook her head, realizing that he was waiting for an answer. “When they summon it, the magic moves in jagged forms, controlled yet chaotic. It feels constrained by something I can’t identify. But creator magic...it flows easily as sunlight, molding energy with thought and empathy. The demons wield their magic in ways that I’ve never seen or thought possible.”
“That sounds scary. I’d rather not meet a demon.”
Styx snorted. “You’d better hope you never meet one. If a demon can wipe the floor with us, they’d completely demolish you.”
Caleb shivered. “Sounds completely unpleasant.”
“I just hate feeling this way. Part of me expects to be killed by a demon. I can imagine it as clear as day. A strange blue blade sliding into me.” She rubbed a fist in the center of her chest.
Caleb lurched forward and grabbed her hand, pulling it away. He traced small circles on the back of her hand. “Don’t talk like that.”
Another soft smile touched her lips. He was obviously smitten with her. It had been a while since she’d taken a mortal lover.
“Don’t say things like that to me.” He exhaled, his breath shaking.
As his arms wrapped around her, a feeling she couldn’t describe enveloped her. A wonderful bliss that spread outwards in warm ripples from the spot where they touched.
It was better than escorting a busload of souls to the underworld or hearing the tortured screams of the guilty echo through stone halls. It was better than tallying the names of the departed, better than bathing her feet in the hot springs of anguish.
Being hugged by this human—his arms holding her close, the heat of his body seeping into her own—was the most profound and pure bliss she had ever experienced.
That realization should have scared her. It should have jolted her senses and sent her fleeing into the night. But somehow, it had the opposite effect. She pressed herself deeper into Caleb’s embrace, clutching him tighter, wishing she could freeze this moment and live in it for eternity.
For once, the screams and cries of the dead fell silent. Her duties, her powers, her magic...none of it mattered here. All that existed was Caleb’s arms around her, his hands stroking her back, his breath warm on her neck.
Styx knew she should pull away, end this uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability. But she couldn’t. Not when being close to him ignited these emotions. Not when he was replacing the horrors she had witnessed with something far more precious.
So instead, she shut her eyes, breathed him in, and stayed exactly where she was, wishing she never had to let go. He didn’t seem in a hurry to move, either. Styx was oblivious as time slipped by before he withdrew, and she sat up.
Embarrassed, she set about examining the remaining tea in her mug. It would be at least five solid minutes before she could bring herself to look at him again. Even then, she wasn’t sure if her cheeks would blush like a Christmas tree. Fucking Creators, giving her a humanoid complexion.
“Listen, I’m glad you stopped by, more than you know, emotional comfort. See, I’ve been on this quest to find answers. I’m almost positive my family is going to have me committed. I’ve been so focused on this research. It’s fun, however, I might publish this in the future.”
It hadn’t been five minutes yet, but she looked up at him. Thankfully, he wasn’t looking at her, but studying the faded tablecloth.
“Which, don’t get me wrong. I’m totally and completely willing to help you out with. Because I think we could be friends, at least, I hope we could. Granted, I don’t know what we have in common.”
Now he fascinated Styx. Before, she hadn’t had the chance to really study him. To sweep her eyes across each plane of his face. To study the lines of his jaw, the way his warm eyes crinkled subtly at the corners.
Her gaze traveled over the curves and planes of his face, as if seeing him clearly for the first time. She noted the faint scar through one eyebrow, the tiny mark along his chin that caught the light.
“Besides popcorn, I know we both like that. Gah, I’m rambling, because I’m nervous. I shouldn’t be, but I am, because I’m not sure how you’ll react.”
Caleb was cute when he got flustered. There was this adorable little wrinkle that appeared between his eyes. It made him look unprepared in a delicious, casual sort of way.
“I was going to summon you, but I swore I wouldn’t subject you to that again. Because it was horrible for you, and for me. God, that was horrible, but I had news. Have news. I have to tell you.”
When their eyes met, she didn’t know what happened. Sure, his eyes were pretty. But she didn’t expect the electrical buzz that shot between them. It linked them somehow, tethered them together.
“But I’m unsure how to say it. Like which words to use. How to phrase it without sounding completely insane.”
The words faded away as she studied the alluring movements of his lips. The delicate way they curved around each letter, the mesmerizing cadence of his faint British accent—everything about his mouth entranced her.
Even the cadence of his voice seemed richer and more magnetic. She watched, entrances, and his full lips formed words she could barely grasp. All she knew was that their shape and rise and fall was suddenly the most entrancing movement she’d witnesses.
“Just spit it out, Caleb. Uh. Soul bond. There I said it. Phew, what a relief.”
It was captivating to see how each letter held its own magic when he spoke. But a new danger sprouted. Great, she was thinking about kissing him. Feel how those lips would feel as they pressed against her.
“I think we’ve, um, created? No, discovered? No, fallen into? Possibly. I think we’ve got a case of a soul bond on our hands.”
Now that the thought of kissing him had consumed her, that was all she could think about. How he would taste. The sounds he’d make. The way their breath would mingle.
“I’ve done a lot of research on the soul bond. And it fits all the symptoms that I’ve experienced. I don’t know about you...But yeah, I think we’re soul bonded.”
She imagined he was a good kisser with those full lips... “What?” she spluttered. “Repeat that.”
“I don’t know what symptoms you’ve had.”
“No.” The word was harsher than she intended, a little magic leaking out and strengthening it. “The last part.”
“Oh, uh, I think we’re soul bonded.”