Epilogue
Living with demons was weird. After two weeks in Hell – which still made me pause when I thought of it like that – I'd finally learned my way around, but I still didn't quite understand the men on this plane. Probably because I was the only girl on the entire planet. I'd learned that tidbit last week in my theory lessons; each world really was a planet. Some were bigger, others smaller, but they all had the same gravity because of the physics variances across the planes.
Speaking of lessons, I rapped at the door. "Ronwe?"
"Come in," he called through the stone. "It's unlocked."
I used my shoulder to nudge it open and my foot to ease it closed behind me because my arms were full of paper and pencils. "Where can I put this?"
Ronwe looked up, revealing the mangled side of his face. "Take the table, Sia. Nothing on there is important, and you're early. Any special reason?"
"The guys are flying." I could hear the pout in my own voice. "Working out combat moves with the ones we woke up. I can't play until I figure out how to get wings."
He chuckled. Of all the people on this world, he was the only one who understood how much it sucked to be flightless. His entire right side was deformed. He said that's how he'd come to be, but he was as stuck to the ground as I was. It also kept him from actually using the theories he'd spent his very long life perfecting. Not only was his body mangled, but also his ability to manipulate aether in quantities large enough to matter.
"Soon, little one," he assured me, just like he always did, "you will get to enjoy that as well."
I nudged his papers to the edge and let mine drop onto the tabletop. "You know I'm starting to get sick of hearing 'soon' all the time, right? How can I reap the dead if I can't even get out of this city?"
"Then learn faster, Muse." He smiled. It was crooked because of the scarring on his face, but still sweet. "Relying on your emotions may have worked to get you here, but if you want to be a master aethersculptor, you're going to need skill as well."
"Right now," I pointed out, "I'm a little more worried about being stuck in a city where the only exit is a hundred feet above the ground! Wings, Ronwe, are my top priority."
"And that means you need skill to get them, Muse" he countered. "So far, all you have done is panic and react. Not all worlds have an abundance of life available for you to waste it frivolously. Before you can create your skin, you must learn the limitations of your abilities. I'm sure none of your lovers would want to kiss that visage you made yesterday."
"They aren't all my lovers. Just Satan," I grumbled to myself, because he knew that. He just liked picking on me about it.
And the visage he was talking about was my self-portrait. Faces had always been hard for me to draw, except Death, but I'd mostly concentrated on his mouth. When I tried to make my own portrait, I'd ended up with two different sized eyes and a warped nose. From what Ronwe said, the lack of aether here meant I had to actually draw like most normal people on Earth, not just imagine what I wanted, because my super-special powers didn't have any oomph to make it better.
And this sucked.
When Nick had offered to strip my powers, I'd made the right choice by saying no. It seemed half my artistic talent really did come from aethersculpting, as Ronwe called it, and that was built from my emotions. I saw what I wanted something to feel like in my mind, and my powers made it happen from my hand. It was also why my art had a tendency to fall off the page, because it had never really been on it to start with.
"Ok," I reluctantly agreed. "I know you're right, but I really want to learn how to fly."
"Then maybe you need to stop always doing what you're told and start looking for answers that fit you better. Sia, why are you drawing your face if all you need are wings?"
"What?"
"And a tail." He winked. "Hard to steer without one of those, unless you plan to have feathers like Luke?"
I adamantly shook my head. "No feathers. That crap gets everywhere! I found fluff in my pajamas this morning."
"And what was Luke doing in your pajamas?"
"He wasn't! That's kinda my point."
"Mm." Ronwe leaned a little closer. "And what would Satan think if he was?"
I groaned. "Don't tell me you have the hots for him, too?"
"Satan?" Ronwe asked. "No. Lucifer, on the other hand..."
"Seriously?"
"Unlike you," he said, lowering his voice, "I happen to like feathers just fine."
Catching his eye, I flipped a few pages back in my sketchbook. "Ever seen Raphael in the nude?"
"No, how did you..." He sucked in a breath when I reached the picture from my Drawing class. "Angels always have the most beautiful bodies. I don't know why they have to be our enemy."
"Me, either. Might be because they all seem to be dicks." With a sigh, I moved back to the outline of my ideal demonic form that I kept trying to perfect. "So how do most demons make their skins anyway?"
He eased himself down onto the bench across from me. "They build it layer by layer, from the inside out. It takes many years to complete, and if they stop for too long, it will begin to degrade before they can slip it on."
"Like a shell?"
"Like a skin," he corrected. "The final part of crafting is to convince the body's molecules to trade places, using the skin as a framework to organize around."
I nodded, seeing how that would make sense. "So how do angels do it? Luke said they can't build things like demons, but they all seem to have skins?"
"Ah." He braced his left arm on the table and leaned against it. "They work from the outside in, starting just under the skin and forcing the molecules to change as they go. I can only assume it would be a very painful process, but no one has ever wanted to talk to me about it."
"Right," I mumbled. "So where does it go when we change worlds?"
He chuckled. "The same place the rest of you goes. Every atom is exchanged. That means you have a whole new body in every single world. A skin is just directions for the molecules to follow."
"So, on Earth, Demons really don't have wings?" I asked.
He nodded, smiling like I was a very good child. "Exactly! They've been amputated from the body's blueprint. You can imagine the bravery it took for the first demon to do that." He shook his head in wonder. "He risked being flightless forever, but it worked."
"Uh…"
Ronwe waved that away. "For your human mind, just imagine that you're making a body on each world and transferring your consciousness into it. Probably easier that way."
"But is it true?"
"True enough." He sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "The manipulation of aether alters the patterns of life. To you, it's magic. To us, it's science, but either way, there are still rules that we will teach you. You just have be patient enough to learn each step, and not try to rush right to the end."
"Ok," I mumbled. "So you're saying I need to learn more before I can get a set of wings, huh?"
He shrugged, using all four of his upper limbs to do it. "I'm saying that you're more than an aether vortex, Sienna. That trick may have worked once, but if you want to be a force of change, then you need to create, not just imitate. Be an artist. Your power is tied to your feelings. Photorealism isn't the only style. Try stipple, impressionistic, or even postmodernism. A style based on emotion. Create what you feel, and trust that it will work. That is how your talent works. Once you wrap your mind around that, you might be able to finally fly."
I chewed on my lower lip around a growing smile. He was right. That bird on my notes that Nick had stopped me from finishing? I hadn't drawn the lines. I'd just felt like I was soaring because of his attention. The infamous pencil? I'd been trying to convince myself to be studious, not distracted by guys.
Now, when it came to the body I'd probably be wearing in this world for thousands of years, I knew exactly what I wanted. Beauty. I wanted to make sure that my legion had eyes for only me. I also wanted to be strong enough to handle everything that would come at us. Most of all, I wanted to just be me.
"Ronwe?" I asked. "Do you have a mirror?"
"Mm." Pushing himself up, he gestured for me to follow. "In here."
Here was his bedroom, and it was a complete mess. Along the far wall, however, was the one thing I needed. The mirror was bigger than what I was used to. This one was a large square, at least six feet on both sides, with plenty of room for a demon to check out not just his body, but also his wings.
"Here goes nothing," I said softly.
"Wait," Ronwe gasped, holding up a hand. "You will need to disrobe first. Your clothing is not made for a tail, let alone the wings."
I looked at him in the reflection, lifting an eyebrow. "Uh huh. And if this works, what the hell am I supposed to wear? Not like you all bother with shirts!"
He stepped back, easing his way out of the room. "I know where to get a fae shirt. Please do not break yourself while I am gone, Muse? Satan would never forgive me."
I chuckled as he closed the door, then listened to him limp across his main room and out into the hall. Only then did I strip off my workout clothes and look in the mirror again. I could do this.
I also needed slightly bigger boobs, and I wished my nose was a little – No. I wouldn't do that. Wings and a tail. I wanted to be me, and I wanted to fly. Staring at my own image long enough to burn it into my mind, I closed my eyes repeating that over and over. Just wings and a tail. I wanted to be me, but able to fly. My guys didn't care about my pale skin and orange hair, they just…
Fire seared my back, and my ass hurt. A lot! Biting back a scream, I crumpled to my knees, but I wouldn't stop. I wanted to fly! Nothing would take that from me. Not a little – or a lot – of pain, and certainly not a lack of willpower. Trying to ignore the feeling of my body being pulled out from my spine and tailbone, I concentrated on the fantastical image of myself as a demon.
When the pain stopped, I was lying on the floor of Ronwe's room. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a copper tipped tail, complete with the metallic shimmer like Luke's skin had. I smiled and flopped back, then sat right back up when I landed on an extra set of something.
Trying to look sent a wing out to my side, clearing the top of Ronwe's bed. The pale ivory skin and copper edging proved it belonged to me. Even worse, the shock made my tail lash. I paused for a moment, mostly in confusion, then realized the one very big problem in my grand idea: I had no clue how to operate this many limbs.
But I knew someone who would.
Grabbing the comforter off the bed with one hand, I pulled it across my naked body while my other clasped the blue diamond hanging from my neck. Satanael, I thought. Gonna need a little help here, so I need you, Satanael.
Less than ten seconds later, the outer door to Ronwe's suite burst open and feet stormed in. Lots of them. Clearly, he'd brought some backup.
"Sia?" Nick yelled.
"In here. I'm fine, just need some help getting up."
He shoved open the door and rushed in, stopping at the end of the bed. Behind him, Luke, Sam, and Bel spread out to get a better look at the pathetic thing lying helpless on the floor. All I could do was cock my head in a fake shrug.
"Um, I got wings, and I have no clue how to get up without breaking everything."
"Damn," Sam breathed, moving a step closer. "Our Sia just made herself into a succubus."
I rolled my eyes. "Just a demon, guys."
"Nope," Bel chuckled. "Succubus. She even has the sexy wings."
Luke reached up and patted Nick's back. "So is she all you hoped for?"
"Yeah," Nick breathed, nodding his head as if dumbfounded. "Our Muse is perfect. Now we just have to teach her to fly."
I lifted a hand. "Can we start with walking? Maybe standing without breaking one of my new limbs?"
"We can start with anything you want," Nick promised. "So long as that includes some clothes."