When the soundof mine and Phaedra’s high heels clack against the polished granite floor, everyone looks up to greet us.
An impressively stylish Daemon with slicked-back red hair sits behind the reception desk. He has a Bluetooth headset curved elegantly around his ear. I can hear him with perfect clarity when he glances up at us and says to some unseen person, “They’re here.”
His face is arranged into a professional smile, and he goes so far as to come out from behind the semi-circle reception desk. Everything in here is black, gold, and green. It should make me feel like the walls are closing in, but it feels more like the vast unknown of staring up into the night sky while camping in the mountains.
Not that I’ve ever done that. The closest I’ve come is watching forbidden videos. It turns out that once you start watching short, fifteen-second clips on the internet, they are a hard kind of drug to quit. Who knew?
The closer we walk to the desk, the bigger the receptionist's smile grows. I wonder if his cheeks hurt from the exertion of such a ridiculous expression.
“Welcome, Princess Helena!” he shouts.
I wince. His voice is way too loud.
To add to his painfully cloying presentation, he bows deeply. His wings are tucked so tightly against his back that I almost miss them. They are smaller than others, more like an eagle than a bat.
“As the first official member of King Aidoneus Hades’s personal enclave to meet with you, can I just say we are honored to at last host one of the members of our esteemed king’s estranged brother’s family. We—"
“Orith, honestly, give it a rest. I am Hades’ personal assistant.” Phaedra’s dismissive words cause the male to freeze. He stands there, hands tucked behind his back and jaw slightly askew as we walk by. The wall that hides the elevators from view is thick white-veined marble. In a place like this, it is likely solid stone.
The elevators appear to be crafted of gold. And… for all my time as a princess, I can’t tell if it's just gleaming polished brass or not.
When we step onto the elevator cart, the enchanted walls reveal themselves. Despite the gleaming metal, we can see through the doors. We shoot up at a manageable speed. I watch as floor after floor of workers pass before my very eyes. Some have sleek, high-tech computers, while others have massive tables dedicated to drawing and designing.
One floor is full of people wielding small brushes and dusting off ancient-looking artifacts, but the last two are filled to capacity with… objects. Rugs, paintings, vases, pottery from the Old World.
I press my face to the glass to look closer, but we are speeding up too quickly. We reach the top level with a startling ding.
The shiny, gold-colored doors slide open, and we step out. As if we are in some sort of world outside of Aranthium where everything is turned upside down, it is darker the closer we get to the sky.
The blackness permeates through this office, and I can feel how large everything is—I just can’t see it. It is like looking over the cliff of a seamount and into the depths of the midnight zone in the ocean.
Light simply doesn’t reach this place. My senses tingle; I know creatures live here. Some are lethal, others are kind, but the only way to find them would be with light. Spherical spell lights line our path, only to be swallowed up before I can glimpse our surroundings.
Todd and Phaedra walk with ease, even casting appreciative glances at what is hidden from my eyes. How?
A voice slices through the pitch-black room. “Helena, welcome to Gates of Hell.”
Leaning back in a tall leather desk chair, the Daemon King sits. His unnatural, electric green eyes stare at me. A few spell light orbs cast his silhouette into view, and I suppress my shudder.
I can barely see the fine cut of his business suit, the elegant form of his ears, and his smooth brushed-back curls. What causes me to involuntarily swallow are the bat-like wings that sweep the space on either side of him and the horns protruding from the high point just above his temples. They are tall—they reach upwards and curve out and in, like an hourglass, until they peak at the top and point to the heavens.
Sweat coats every inch of my skin, and my clothing weighs against me. I nod, sure that he will see me and understand. My fingers stretch outwards, reaching for something to write with. To explain myself.
The voice that could rumble the earth beneath my feet speaks again. “I understand you cannot speak,” he says. He moves one of his large hands and flicks a long finger. “I believe I can remedy that. I have provided an aqua chair for you so that we can return your voice.”
Todd emerges from the shadows. He is pushing an elaborate chair that contains sloshing water. It has wheels attached to either side and an electrical mechanism clearly meant for steering it on one armrest.
That same, menacing hand glows gray-blue in the spell light, and the Daemon King gestures for me to sit. There is no way to deny the will of this being. I gulp, crossing to the aqua chair. I can’t imagine hesitating, yet I do when I look down at the water.
I can’t just change myself back to fins. If I could… well, things might be different right now.
“Ready, Helena?”
I flinch at Phaedra’s warm voice, but I nod.
My uncle’s eyes glow with energy, and pure power flows out of my uncle and down into my throat.
It burns.