leaving me alone on my dizzying balcony.
His confidence did not reassure me.
Why did such a horrible place have such a hypnotic sky? When I had first come here in a dream, Shadow-sick and burning, the eternal twilight above me had made me feel disoriented and nauseated. But now, its dusky purple light reminded me of home. Except this time, memories of home were not so idyllic. I thought of the fountain and how it no longer lit up at the start of evening, and of the fairy lights in the trees that were broken. I had always loved this time of day. Now, I knew I would never feel the same about it again. I slipped through the balcony doors.
One of the Grey Ladies stood in the middle of the bedroom, hovering near the bed. I could just make out the outlines of long, old-fashioned skirts that encased a female form, but that was as clear as she got. I couldn’t make out any facial features at all, just swirling gray mist coalesced into a vaguely solid form. But still, there was something familiar about her. Perhaps it was her scent, which carried hints of rain and summer grass. It was incredibly soothing, here in the bowels of Belial’s realm, and I found myself leaning toward her.
I stopped, however. Jack had told me to trust no one in this place. What did I know about these creatures, after all? They were Belial’s servants, even if they didn’t appear dangerous. This one hovered near my bed.
She gestured to the bed with a spectral arm. “For me?” I asked, and the Grey Lady made the same gesture again. I drifted closer to the bed and reached for the pile of clothes. I hesitantly stroked the fabric. It was silky instead of suede, and made the softest of rustling sounds as it rubbed together between my fingers. At least it was pretty, although every part of me rebelled against wearing anything that belonged to Belial.
Once I put it on, there would be no way to pretend I wasn’t a member of his army, willing or no. Unless…
I still had one request I could make of Belial. I could, with one simple exchange of information, free myself. The demon had said as much. I could be back in Whitfield today. Back in Ethan’s arms. Back home.
But then I thought of all I had seen since I’d come here: the neglect, the fear, and the beaten down looks of all the Nephilim.
Twelve-year-old Caroline Bedford popped into my mind. Since his plot to destroy Whitfield with an onslaught of Hellhounds had failed, he held the girl responsible. Even now she remained locked in a cell all by herself, subjected to nightmares no twelve-year-old should have to bear.
Could I leave her there and return to a place of safety, knowing that a child suffered Belial’s brutal punishment? Even if that child had played some part in my appearance here?
I picked up the pile of clothing, and my breath caught in my throat. I had expected the same uniform everyone else here wore: long pants and a white shirt, covered by a matching long jacket. But what I held before me now was a far cry from the standard uniform. In fact, it had me vaguely alarmed.
He’d sent me an evening gown. A skimpy one, at that.
The silky gown tumbled down to the floor. It was a deep purple color; so deep it appeared black in dim lighting. I held it up to the window and watched as it refracted colors from the sky, blues and purples making the silk appear as living water. It was one of the most beautiful gowns I had ever seen in my life.
It also terrified me.
Just what did Belial have in mind?
I steeled myself against my rising fear and turned to the Grey Lady. There was no way I was getting dressed in front of a stranger, no matter how spectral she might be. Just how was I supposed to communicate with the thing, anyway? “I’m fine,” I said, hoping a simple dismissal would do. “I can handle it from here.”
The Grey Lady refused to move. Instead, she pointed to the wardrobe on the far side of the room.
With me resolutely maintaining the impasse, the Grey Lady seemed to shrink
His confidence did not reassure me.
Why did such a horrible place have such a hypnotic sky? When I had first come here in a dream, Shadow-sick and burning, the eternal twilight above me had made me feel disoriented and nauseated. But now, its dusky purple light reminded me of home. Except this time, memories of home were not so idyllic. I thought of the fountain and how it no longer lit up at the start of evening, and of the fairy lights in the trees that were broken. I had always loved this time of day. Now, I knew I would never feel the same about it again. I slipped through the balcony doors.
One of the Grey Ladies stood in the middle of the bedroom, hovering near the bed. I could just make out the outlines of long, old-fashioned skirts that encased a female form, but that was as clear as she got. I couldn’t make out any facial features at all, just swirling gray mist coalesced into a vaguely solid form. But still, there was something familiar about her. Perhaps it was her scent, which carried hints of rain and summer grass. It was incredibly soothing, here in the bowels of Belial’s realm, and I found myself leaning toward her.
I stopped, however. Jack had told me to trust no one in this place. What did I know about these creatures, after all? They were Belial’s servants, even if they didn’t appear dangerous. This one hovered near my bed.
She gestured to the bed with a spectral arm. “For me?” I asked, and the Grey Lady made the same gesture again. I drifted closer to the bed and reached for the pile of clothes. I hesitantly stroked the fabric. It was silky instead of suede, and made the softest of rustling sounds as it rubbed together between my fingers. At least it was pretty, although every part of me rebelled against wearing anything that belonged to Belial.
Once I put it on, there would be no way to pretend I wasn’t a member of his army, willing or no. Unless…
I still had one request I could make of Belial. I could, with one simple exchange of information, free myself. The demon had said as much. I could be back in Whitfield today. Back in Ethan’s arms. Back home.
But then I thought of all I had seen since I’d come here: the neglect, the fear, and the beaten down looks of all the Nephilim.
Twelve-year-old Caroline Bedford popped into my mind. Since his plot to destroy Whitfield with an onslaught of Hellhounds had failed, he held the girl responsible. Even now she remained locked in a cell all by herself, subjected to nightmares no twelve-year-old should have to bear.
Could I leave her there and return to a place of safety, knowing that a child suffered Belial’s brutal punishment? Even if that child had played some part in my appearance here?
I picked up the pile of clothing, and my breath caught in my throat. I had expected the same uniform everyone else here wore: long pants and a white shirt, covered by a matching long jacket. But what I held before me now was a far cry from the standard uniform. In fact, it had me vaguely alarmed.
He’d sent me an evening gown. A skimpy one, at that.
The silky gown tumbled down to the floor. It was a deep purple color; so deep it appeared black in dim lighting. I held it up to the window and watched as it refracted colors from the sky, blues and purples making the silk appear as living water. It was one of the most beautiful gowns I had ever seen in my life.
It also terrified me.
Just what did Belial have in mind?
I steeled myself against my rising fear and turned to the Grey Lady. There was no way I was getting dressed in front of a stranger, no matter how spectral she might be. Just how was I supposed to communicate with the thing, anyway? “I’m fine,” I said, hoping a simple dismissal would do. “I can handle it from here.”
The Grey Lady refused to move. Instead, she pointed to the wardrobe on the far side of the room.
With me resolutely maintaining the impasse, the Grey Lady seemed to shrink
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