Chapter 5

PRINCE OF WAR

 

 

 

"Beware the princes of hell."

—the Warden

 

I open my eyes and suck in my breath. I was expecting fire and brimstone. Pain and suffering. Endless torture. What I see is something out of a fairytale. We stand on the bank of a lake, having just stepped through a large, ornate mirror that matches the one in the mansion back home. It's night, and a full moon is out. Another moon, a crescent one, hovers by its side. The stars are bright and big in the dark sky, much larger than the ones in my world. Before us, water stretches out into the distance, shimmering in the moonlight, and beneath the dark surface something glows a pale blue.

"Those are moon fish," Asher says, noticing my stare.

I look around and see more of them. I want to dip my hand in to splash at them, but for all I know they are carnivorous and would eat me as much as play with me. It's a peaceful moment, but I haven't forgotten where I am and why.

"We don't call this place hell," Asher says. "Here, it is known as the Isle of Inferna." He turns back to the mirror we just came from and places a hand on it. When he pulls his hand away, the reflection of the mirror shifts, the glass swirling in colors until a new image appears. At first, I can't tell what I'm looking at.

"This is Inferna," Asher says, pointing to what I can now see is a map. It looks like a floating island with seven concentric rings in the middle. I touch the center, which all the rings seem to protect, and the map zooms in, showing me a three dimensional close up of a grand castle.

"That's High Castle," Asher says. "I will be taking you there directly."

I shift my finger to see a wider view again. "What are these circles?"

"Those are the seven realms, each ruled by one of the princes. There are other maps of our kingdom but it's best seen from an enchanted mirror. For safety reasons, however, there are no mirrors allowed within the realms. Anyone wishing to travel by the gateways must come here, to the edge of the outer region, and then use the canals to get where they wish to go."

That's when I see a boat float up to the shore and stop for us. "Aren't we a bit overdressed for travel by boat?"

There is snow on the ground, and my heel sinks into it as I follow Asher towards the boat. I would have stayed in my jeans if I'd known we'd be traveling this way.

He side-eyes me. "Your dress will be fine."

I sigh as Asher climbs in first. Colorful pillows are artfully arranged on the wooden seats, and the prince sinks into them, watching with amusement as I navigate my way onto the precarious floating wood. It sways and I stand still, one foot on land, one in the boat.

Asher chuckles. "It's charmed to always stay upright. You can't tip it if you tried." To prove his point—or terrify me—I'm honestly not sure which, he grabs the sides and shakes the boat.

It moves, but only a little. He grins. "See? You're safe."

Emboldened despite his attitude, I climb in and recline against my own pillows. They are surprisingly comfortable.

Asher says something under his breath once I'm settled and the boat begins to glide through the water. "I've never been on a boat before, but I'm pretty sure it usually involves motors or rowing."

"Your world may have the marvels of electronics, but we have magic. In a toss between the two, I'd always choose the latter."

My eyes widen. "Magic? Real magic?" For some reason, this is harder to grasp than demons and vampires, though I'm not sure why. Particularly since I just traveled to another world through an enchanted mirror.

"Real magic. Wielded carefully, of course. In the wrong hands, magic is dangerous. There are laws about the proper use of magic, for everyone's protection."

"So you can wield magic?"

"Not exactly. I—really anyone—can use a spell once it's been cast. But vampires and demons cannot cast magic."

"Then who casts the spells?"

"The Fae," he says, then falls silent.

I have so many more questions, but he doesn't seem to be of a mood to talk anymore, so I entertain myself by getting to know my new world. The lake we've been floating on has begun to narrow, taking us into a canal with forests on either side of us. We pass between two giant walls that span as far as I can see. At least six stories high, they seem carved from one mass of gray stone. Above us, connecting the two walls, hangs a metal gate forged from interlocking beams.

Asher notices me looking. "So we can close the canals during an attack."

"From who?" I ask.

"Enemies my people have made. They live in limbo, the Outlands, beyond these walls."

I raise an eyebrow. "And how often are you attacked?"

"There are occasional raids. But first, they must deal with the archers on the walls. If they make it past, then we have soldiers on the ground." He speaks casually, as if this is the day to day of his life. Will I too, one day, speak of raids and battle so easily?

We pass the walls, and the temperature drops, and I pull my coat around me, shivering at such a sudden change in climate.

"We've entered my brother's realm, the Prince of War," he says. "It's miserably cold here this time of year."

Majestic mountains topped with caps of snow reach into the sky, and trees so tall I can't see their tops line the shore. In the distance, a castle forged from stone is carved into the side of a massive peak. Red flags fly from two towers, depicting a white wolf. "Do other people live here?" I wonder out loud.

"Yes. Each realm has its villages, its center, and its populace. Most are demons but there are other kinds here as well. It's important you always stay within the realms. We aren't the only race inhabiting this land, and believe it or not, we're the good guys. You don't want to go beyond the gates, if you value your life. Or your mother's."

Asher's voice drops to a low rumble, and I shiver at the weight in his words. What kinds of creatures live outside the realms that would have vampires scared of them? I can't even imagine. "Speaking of my mother, when will I get to see her?"

"We will head there first, to set your mind at ease. Then you will be assigned a realm to begin your stay with us. My brothers were meant to decide the order while I retrieved you."

"The order?"

Asher looks over at me and smirks. "Yes, the order. You must spend time with each of us before you make your choice. You'll have a month with each prince. At the end of the seven months, you will decide who amongst us will be your mate and future king."

"So my mother has to live as a prisoner for seven months? What if I decide sooner?"

His smirk disappears and he leans closer to me, his cologne making my head spin. "Be very careful, princess. My brothers are ruthless demons who have lived more lifetimes than you can imagine. They have their own agendas and will do whatever it takes to accomplish them. Do not be hasty in this. Not only are you sealing your own fate for all eternity, but our kingdom's as well."

"Why?"

He blinks. "Why what?"

"Why leave such an important decision to an ordinary human? Why not just fight it out or use magic or something to decide the next king?"

He leans back and crosses his hands over his lap. "Why indeed. For starters, you are far less ordinary than you imagine yourself to be. And then of course you know the rest of the answer." He chuckles. "You are the chosen one, there is a prophecy, and danger, and, of course, my sexy charms. Isn't that what you said in the hospital? You weren't wrong, princess. You weren't all the way right, but you weren't wrong."

I glare at him. "Thanks. That clears everything right up."

Our boat turns, and the landscape changes once again. It's still cold, but not nearly the frigid weather of before. We are no longer surrounded by the ruggedly wild forests. Instead, we travel through a city full of tall buildings that look grown from stone and trees. A white marble tower blocks out one of the moons, green vines spiraling up from its base. Immaculate gardens adorn almost every dwelling, full of silver and purple flowers, their sweet aromas fresh on the wind. Everything looks smooth and polished: elegant symbols carved into the walls, delicate archways crossing over cobbled streets. This time I do see an occasional person walking around, alone or with one or two others. It's late, but the city is lit with light from glowing blue orbs that seems to hover in the air. "What is this place?" I ask.

The prince smiles, and for the first time it seems to be with genuine pleasure. "This is my realm. Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Very," I say honestly.

"It is my pride," he says, then laughs. "After all, I am the Prince of Pride."

I can't help but laugh with him at his own stupid humor, and for a moment we share in a very normal camaraderie of two people enjoying something lovely together.

"My location is less than optimal," he says, "placed between the wild lands of War and the dreariness of Envy. Honestly, he really needs to do something with his life. His land could be beautiful, in its own way. It's heavy with red clay that bleeds like blood into the snow in winter, and he gets the most dreadful storms, but the rock formations that litter his coast lines are actually quite dramatic and stunning, if paired with the right architecture. Unfortunately, he has no eye for design and thus his realm languishes under his artless care." His voice is full of dramatic despondency, like a petulant child who didn't get his choice of toy for the holiday. "You'll see what I mean soon enough. We're almost there."

The canal twists to the right and our boat magically follows. As we turn, the trees become more dispersed, and instead the water is framed by pillars of rock and stone, slate grey and weathered by time and the elements. Our boat lurches and comes to a sudden stop, sending me spiraling forward into Asher, who catches me in his arms.

"No need to throw yourself at me just yet," he says with a smirk. "We'll have our time together soon enough."

I roll my eyes and shove away from him. "Cute." We still aren't moving, but I can't see what caused us to stop. "Did the magic fail?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Not possible." His face loses its chronic arrogance and falls into a look of real concern as his eyes scan the canal. He dips his hand into the water, deep enough that his sleeve becomes wet. "There's a felled tree at the bottom blocking the boat," he says, pulling his hand out. "We need to move it before we can continue."

"I assume this is where magic comes in handy?"

He chuckles humorously. "It would be, if either of us could wield it. Unfortunately, we'll have to do things the old fashioned way."

"Bet you're glad we dressed for this party now, aren't you?" I wink at him as the boat glides to the banks.

He stands and steps out carefully, then offers his hand. "Cloth can be cleaned. It is not of consequence."

"Right." I can tell he hates this, and that somehow makes my discomfort more bearable. I'd give anything to be in jeans right now. My white dress remains mostly unscathed as I climb out of the boat and stand in front of a giant slab of grey stone, but my shoes don't fare as well sinking into the muck on the edge of the canal. I give up and take them off, tossing them back into the boat so I can walk barefoot.

Asher looks ready to argue, but I hold up a hand. "You want to trade shoes? No? Then shove it."

He makes the smart choice, and his mouth snaps closed. He leans over to pull the boat out of the water and over the fallen tree. I'm about to offer to help lift, but…

He doesn't need my help. Somehow, Asher manages to lift the whole boat by himself. His muscles bulge under his clothes, but his face shows no sign of the effort it must take to lift something that heavy.

He's placing it back in the water on the other side of the tree, when I hear a branch snap.

I start to spin, but I'm too slow.

Someone grabs me from behind, covering my mouth with a cloth so I can't scream. I bite instead, and the hand loosens, but only for a moment. The arms around me tighten, and though I try my hardest, I can't push them away. I struggle anyways, unwilling to make myself an easier target than I already am.

There's something on the cloth over my mouth, a chemical smell, and it makes me light headed.

Someone is trying to kidnap me. Someone followed me here.

My eyes go wide with panic, even as I begin to lose control of my limbs, going limp in my assailant's grip. Blurry images enter my view, more attackers, at least ten. They draw swords. 

Asher turns around and screams, a primal sound not of fear but rage. He charges forward, lightning fast. I can barely see him as he darts around, disarming one opponent and taking their blade. Steel clashes. Mud splatters. Blood sprays over my face.

My captor drags me back, away from the fighting, between towers of stone. He wears brown furs and a leather hood, shrouding his face. I can't make out more; my eyes grow heavy.

My attacker stumbles.

I focus all my remaining strength.

And ram the back of my head into his face.

Pain explodes in my skull, and I hear the crunch of bones. Probably his nose. He curses, letting go, and I fall, slamming into gravel. I scream at the top of my lungs, hoping someone in this realm will care and come to help. I can't walk, so I crawl, my knees scraping against rock, my hands bleeding from tiny cuts.

In the distance, three men surround Asher, but he holds his own, fighting with such speed and agility my eyes can't follow. But they are fast too, and I wonder if vampires can be killed.

The drug they used on me dulls all my senses, and I collapse near the water.

Then I hear it.

The sound of hooves.

Of wolves howling.

Of warriors shouting.

Asher's voice is sharp with relief, but still filled with his normal snark. "Good of you to finally join us, brother."

Swords clash. Blood seeps into the earth.

Visions mix around me. It's hard to breathe. Hard to think.

Then all goes quiet.

And a wet nose nudges my face. I pry my eyes open and see the face of a large white wolf staring at me, his golden eyes too intelligent for comfort.

"He normally hates anyone but me." The voice is familiar. Comforting. Deep and gravelly.

Arms scoop me from the ground and as my head falls back, I see the face I knew would be there. "Fenris?"

Fen looks down at me. "You really should stop getting drugged and nearly kidnapped."

I muster some indignation, though I can tell I won't be conscious much longer. "People really should stop drugging and nearly kidnapping me," I mumble.

It's his laugh I hear as darkness takes me.

 

***

 

I wake in silk sheets that feel too soft, too slippery to be entirely comfortable. The bed is large and plush and I am dressed in… something I don't recognize. My head doesn't hurt nearly as badly this time around when I open my eyes.

The room flickers with the light of a fire dancing off the walls. I push myself up in bed to look around.

"Drink this." A pewter goblet is handed to me.

I look over and see Fen sitting in a chair by my bed, a massive white wolf sleeping by his feet. Or at least pretending to sleep. I have a sense that wolf is acutely aware of everything happening in this room and beyond. "You!" I push the goblet away and glare at Fen. "You're one of them and you lied to me."

"I never lied to you. I just didn't tell you everything. For that matter, you didn't share all your secrets that day either, did you?" His blue eyes catch the light of the fire and seem to spark. He's dressed differently than last time I saw him. Brown leather pants and shirt, heavy fur boots.

"Well, no. But that's different. I didn't know you knew about this stuff. You knew I did."

"Fair enough," he says, still holding the goblet out to me. "But my job was to keep you safe. It was Asher's job to get you here of your own free will. I couldn't interfere. Now drink this before your headache hits."

I take the cup from him and sniff, then wrinkle my nose. "This is awful. What's in it?"

"You don't want to know, but you do want to drink it. It's the reason you don't feel like you've been drugged, but the dose you had earlier has nearly worn off."

I remember how long it took me to recover last time, and I plug my nose and gulp the vile liquid down, nearly gagging as I do. It doesn't taste as bad as it smells. It tastes worse.

I throw the goblet at Fen when I'm done, but he catches it one-handed with a chuckle. "Feeling feisty, I see."

"Still angry you lied to me. I trusted you."

He stands, shaking his head. "You shouldn't trust anyone here, Princess. Let that be your first lesson." He walks to the door, his wolf following him.

"Not even you?" I ask.

"Especially not me," he says, opening the door. "Now get dressed. Asher is waiting for you in the library. I'm to take you there and make sure no one else tries to kill you in the meantime."

"And who is trying to kill me?"

He pauses. "The Fae who dwell in the Outlands."

Fae? Are they the dangerous enemy Asher spoke of? The magic wielders. "And why are they after me?"

"I suspect it is because they know of your importance. If you were to be taken, then we would have no king, and our kingdom would remain disorganized. Now, hurry and change."

I look down at the silver nightgown someone dressed me in. "Where are my clothes? How did I end up in this?"

"You were covered in blood and mud. I thought you'd be more comfortable this way. There are clothes in the wardrobe that should fit you. This will be your room when you're at High Castle."

My face burns. "You changed me?" I'm trying to imagine how that went while I was unconscious, but my mind keeps freezing every time I imagine his hands on my body. Naked.

"Relax. I didn't touch anything I shouldn't. Your virtue is intact."

I snort. "I'm not worried about my virtue. What century do you think this is? I'm worried about consent."

He raises an eyebrow, then crosses the room in two long strides until he's leaning over me. "I assure you, Princess, if we ever consummate anything between us, it will be entirely mutual."

His presence, the sheer headiness of his scent, of his body so close to mine, makes me dizzy, but I pull myself together fast enough to respond before he walks away. "As it should be."

There's a pause between us that seems to linger beyond the confines of time, where only he and I exist. I have to fight the urge to lift my hand and run it against his jaw, to feel the stubble of his five o'clock shadow. To pull him closer to me.

His eyes are locked on mine, but then his wolf growls at the door and our moment is broken. Before I can blink Fen turns to the door and Asher approaches.

"Settle him down, Fen. It's just me." Asher enters the room and stands by the fire, leaving plenty of space between him and the wolf. "I see our girl is awake. Excellent. There are places to see, people to meet, things to do."

"I want to see my mother," I say, pulling myself out of bed. My legs are wobbly, but otherwise I feel fine. That medicine really does work well.

Asher frowns. "About that… "

"No. I'm not doing anything else until I confirm she is here and safe." I lock eyes with him, my arms crossed over my chest. I'm not backing down on this one.

Fen leans against the wall, grinning at Asher.

The Prince of Pride frowns back. "You think this is amusing, brother? Wait until it's your turn to deal with her."

Fen snickers. "I'm the one who keeps rescuing her, while she's supposed to be under your care." His wolf bares his teeth at Asher.

"All right, enough bickering," I say. "Both of you out. I need to change." I shoo them through the door and close it behind them, then take a deep breath. It's time to see what I've gotten myself into.

 

***

 

When I exit my room, both Asher and Fen are still there, looking mildly uncomfortable with each other. Asher frowns when he sees what I'm wearing, but Fen's lip twitches, and I can tell he's pleased.

"This is not an outfit suited for a princess!" says Asher. I swear he's about to wring his hands in distress, and I almost giggle.

There were dresses galore in the wardrobe, but in one of the drawers tucked into the back, I found something better. Black leather pants, boots, and a red corset with a black cloak. I feel pretty badass, to be honest. And though it's not the most comfortable outfit I've ever worn, I'm happy in it. My hair is tied into braids, and I put on red lipstick to match my corset. I just need a sword and I'll be set. Swords seem big here. Fen carries one at his hip. Yes, I definitely need my own sword. And I'll need to learn how to use it.

"I think she looks like the perfect princess," Fen says.

I try not to smile at his compliment. I'm still angry at him for lying to me, but there's so much going on I don't understand. I'm not sure how to feel about anyone right now.

Asher just shakes his head at us and begins walking down the hall. I follow and Fen walks just behind me, presumably acting as guard. I should feel more nervous with him and that wolf trailing after me, but I don't. It's actually reassuring knowing he's there. I don't get to see much of the castle, mostly hallways, covered in murals depicting battles and harvests. Above an extravagant door hangs a giant painting of an older man, his hair black and streaked with grey, his face pale and smooth. He wears a black vest and cape, his buttons gold.

"Who's that?" I ask.

Fen doesn't look at the painting, scowling for some reason.

Asher sighs. "Our father, King Lucian. He could be… difficult, at times, but he was always fair."

Fen chuckles, though there is no humor to it. "Fair to you, perhaps."

"Now, now brother. This is no time for bickering."

"Time for truth perhaps."

Asher shakes his head, turning to me. "Excuse my brother. Our father's loss has affected us all in different ways." He faces Fen. "Let us take the princess to her mother. We can discuss this later."

Fen nods, though I wish he hadn't. I want to know more about what happened to the king.

Asher takes a right down a hall and pulls a thick iron key from his pocket. He opens a dusty black door, revealing a staircase winding down. The path is lit by torches that flicker a blue light, but still I trip, knocking into Asher, who catches me and steadies me before continuing. I hear Fen's wolf growl when Asher touches me, and Asher scowls at the beast. 

We descend deeper until we reach another door. Asher opens it, and we walk into a dark hall, full of stone and metal bars.

"I shall wait here and guard the entrance," Fen says, stopping by the door.

Asher frowns. "Of course."

The wolf sits by Fen's feet, ears alert, teeth bared at the dungeon.

It's hot, the stone walls are stained red, and I don't even want to think of what caused those marks. I cough. "Is that sulfur?"

"Yes," he says.

"How disappointingly predictable. A demon dungeon that smells of sulfur."

"It has its uses," he says, but I can tell he's bothered by being called disappointing and predictable. He is the Prince of Pride after all.

There is a sound of clanking chains as we approach a corner, and the largest man I've ever seen appears before us. He's not really a man though. He's at least nine feet tall, bulging with muscle everywhere. His head is bald and his body covered in tribal tattoos. Large black horns protrude from his skull. His pupils are too narrow, like a reptile's. His teeth are sharpened to deadly points and when he speaks, his voice sounds like gravel. "My Prince, how can I serve you?"

He doesn't look at me at all, but I can tell he's aware of my presence. I know he sees everything I might do before I even do it. This man-beast terrifies me.

"Please allow Miss Spero to see her mother's soul, and then we will be going."

The demon pauses, uncertainty on his face. "If you feel that is wise, Your Highness?"

"Just do it. I'm in a bit of a hurry and must be on with it."

"Of course."

He leads us through more halls stained with the remnants of their last occupants and opens a barred door, the metal hinges creaking loudly in the eerie silence. The room is large, like an underground warehouse, and full of giant cages hanging from the ceiling yet low to the ground. Each has the glowing ethereal form of a human laying on it. There must be hundreds of them, at least. Maybe more.

"She is here," he says, walking to a cage in the middle.

I shuffle forward, my body shaking. I see my mother's soul, leaning against the cold bars. It is transparent, ghostly, but it is her. She looks the same as her body, and I reach to touch her, but my hand finds no purchase.

"She is not here in form," Asher says. "Only in spirit."

"Can I speak with her?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "If she is awoken, she will suffer greatly. My father recently ordered that all souls be kept asleep during their time with us. It used to be standard practice that they remain awake, tortured and in misery. Some demons feed off that pain."

"That's barbaric." My voice trembles just imaging my mother, or anyone, enduring such a nightmarish existence.

"That is likely why the King ended it," Asher says, and I can hear in his voice a softening when he speaks of his father. "He had a change of heart near the end. I still… Never mind."

"What?"

His eyes are dark and heavy. "I still wonder why. Why did an eternal demon change his ways?" He looks at me, his gaze piercing. "What changed his heart?"

We are both silent for a moment, and I turn away, the intensity of his glance overwhelming.

"He should have kept things as they were," says the demon warden.

Asher's eyes widen, and he turns to the warden, grabbing him by the neck. He squeezes, choking the giant, bringing him to his knees. Asher's fangs descend. "You dare speak of your King, of the royal family, that way?"

I watch, amazed. Asher is impressive in his own right, but nothing in bulk compared to the dungeon-beast, and yet, the demon seems terrified of the Prince.

"Apologies, Master. It will not happen again."

"See that it doesn't, or you will suffer a much worse fate than those sorry souls once did."

I turn my attention back to my mother and watch her for a few more moments before Asher puts a hand on my shoulder. "You've seen her. I have fulfilled my promise. We must be going now."

He turns to walk out and I follow him, but as I reach the end of the room, the demon grabs my elbow. I pull away, instant panic filling my veins. His eyeteeth elongate and his pupils dilate, but he doesn't try to bite me. Instead, he leans down to whisper into my ear. "Beware the princes of hell. Not all of them are pleased that you will decide on the next king. Not all of them wish you alive."