That night, I did not truly sleep. When the drain of magic finally caught up with me and I couldn’t keep my feet, Callum carried me on his back to the house. Dawn was creeping over the horizon by the time we returned, but I closed my eyes against the encroaching day.
Darkness still had its hold on me, and the growing light made me anxious. Callum pulled all the curtains closed, plunging my bedroom into beautiful, comforting darkness. Limp and exhausted, I let him wash my face with a cloth, then my hands, my arms, my feet. All the while I lay still and silent, relinquishing all control to simply trust in his care.
He sang to me as I drifted in and out of sleep, in a language I’d never heard. Or perhaps I only imagined the words, the sounds. It was difficult to differentiate between what I was dreaming and what was actually happening around me.
He held me close, and I sprawled naked on his chest, eyes so heavy I couldn’t open them even if I wanted to. The smoke of the bonfire still swirled around me, and I could hear the echoes of the forest: the crickets, the rustling leaves, the trickling water.
For hours, I drifted in and out of dreams. While my body lay at rest, my mind was running through the trees. Running…running until my lungs burned, until my feet were cut and my arms covered in scratches from whipping branches. Deeper and deeper into the trees. Deeper into the darkness.
But I wasn’t afraid. The darkness was my cloak, it was my protection. The darkness was the beginning. The darkness was the end.
But I wasn’t the only thing lurking in the dark.
When I finally stirred from sleep, it was with a lingering feeling of trepidation. Pushing myself up from Callum’s chest, I rubbed my aching eyes and paused, frowning as I tried to remember why I was feeling like this.
“Did you dream?” he said, rubbing his hand over my back. “What did you see?”
“Darkness. Only darkness. I was running, and…” I paused, trying so hard to remember. “Something was watching me. But it couldn’t reach me.”
He nodded. He balked at nothing. He listened to my worries and my fears and didn’t judge me for them. And he…
He loved me.
The memory of him speaking those words suddenly filled my mind, making my heart beat faster and my chest feel as if it was full of fluttering moths. I laid down on him again, craning my neck to kiss his mouth.
“I love you,” I whispered.
His dark eyes gazed into mine. His fingers stroked through my tangled hair, both of us laughing softly when he got caught on knots and had to tug through them.
“And I love you,” he said. “You were divine last night. Not only your magic. Your confidence. Your bravery. You’ve faced so much, darling.” He paused, holding me close. “I want to take you away from here.”
Smiling, I said, “Where will you take me?”
He hesitated before he spoke, his lips parting and closing several times before he said, “To Hell. To Dantalion, the High City. The seat of the council.”
“That’s not possible though, is it? At least not until I’m…well, not until I’m dead?”
“Witches can walk past the Veil and through the Betwixt. They can enter Hell, if they have someone to let them in. And you do.”
When he grinned, a nervous laugh burst out of me. My smile faded, then reappeared, then faded again. “You really think I can? I could make it there?”
“I have no doubt. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been in Hell. At least, since I’ve been there willingly. I haven’t wanted to go back. But when I’m with you, you make me think of home. All the beautiful, magical places I haven’t seen in so long. You make me want to share a part of my life with you that I thought I would never return to.”
“I want to see it,” I said softly, even though the declaration made me shiver with nerves.
The cuts I’d given him last night were fully healed, but very thin scars remained beneath his collarbones, and I traced them with my fingers.
“There was a time when I never wanted to go back,” he said. “Every familiar place caused me pain. There were memories everywhere, inescapable reminders of those I’d lost. It’s still painful. I don’t think mourning ever truly ends. But for a long time, Hell was all I knew. It’s a part of me. It’s part of you now too.” He reached out, touching the scars on my stomach. “Hell considers killing a God to be an act of war. When the gods were chased out of Hell, the council demanded that if one was found and going to be killed, the hunter who sought to kill it would go to them first and seek their blessing. I never did.” He grinned, but the expression wasn’t joyful. “The war had never ended in my mind. My army was gone but I was still a warrior. But now…things have changed.”
He had changed, and so had I. Things I had once thought impossible were within my grasp. A future without the terror of the God looming over us was closer than ever, and yet still so far away.
“When the Deep One is dead, my war is over,” he said. “It’s been too long. I don’t want to run from the pain anymore. I want a life of peace. I want to know what it feels like to rest. I want to spend eternity learning how to love you.”
The thought filled me with warmth. A life without the God, without the Libiri. We could stay safely in this house or we could travel as we wished.
I could have a life I’d thought was impossible.
But, between us and that life, the God still stood.
“We should seek the council’s blessing,” Callum said. “They will give us an audience, and I want the royals of Hell to see the witch who is fighting in their names. It will help put an end to the bitterness between Lucifer and I, if I do something properly for once. And while we’re there, it will give you a few days to rest. You’ve been working yourself hard.”
With a heavy sigh, I said, “Some rest would be nice. My brain feels like soup. But even a single day I’m not practicing is a day too many.”
“Time passes differently in Hell,” he said. “A day on Earth is nearly three days there. You won’t miss anything. Your body can rest while your spirit wanders with me. How does that sound?”
There was such eager light in his dark eyes that I nodded quickly, despite my fears. “It sounds amazing and terrifying. Of course I want to go!”
When I awoke the next morning, there was only one thought at the forefront of my mind. I, a living breathing human, was going to walk through the gates of Hell. A witch who’d only just learned how to control her power was going to stand before beings who had been wielding magic for thousands of years, and insist I could be trusted.
For several minutes, all I could do was lie in bed with a churning stomach. What did one wear when presenting themselves to Hell’s royalty? A pencil skirt and blazer? A gown? Heels? Was I supposed to bow? Offer my hand? Hold my head high?
I wasn’t ready for this.
Yet, I was also as ready as I would ever be.
Callum had left my room while I slept, which was no surprise. He’d been antsy last night, barely able to lay still in bed as I drifted off into sleep. Our nerves ebbed and flowed into each other, and only when I dragged myself on top of him, sprawling across his chest, did he finally lay still.
The scent of food wafted from beneath the cloche-covered plate on my table, but I couldn’t tolerate eating when my stomach was determined to tie itself into knots. I was facing the task of leaving Earth, casting my spiritual self so far outside my body that I could walk in Hell. That wasn’t a simple thing to do, even for experienced witches.
But Callum would be by my side. He would show me the way.
As I passed by the library, Grams called to me, “Looking for the demon? He’s in his room. Been in there for hours!”
There was a question implied in her tone, but I didn’t have an answer for her. Callum hadn’t stepped foot in that room since I first stumbled through the door, so I couldn’t imagine why he’d returned there now.
Making my way down the hallway, I could see the large doors were ajar. A smile came to my face when I remembered sprinting down this same hall, stumbling in terror, certain I was about to die at the hands of the monstrous beast I’d accidentally unleashed.
Now that monster was my prince. The beast was as loving as he was vicious, as loyal as he was dangerous.
“Callum?” I called his name as I slipped through the door. My demon stood at the far side of the room, in front of a large framed mirror. But something was different.
At first, I thought another demon had broken into the house. Callum’s back was to me; he was naked, facing the mirror. But his skin, nearly every inch of him, was tattooed. Elaborate, detailed artwork, the likes of which I’d never seen on a human. The colors changed as I walked closer; even the lines themselves shifted, as if the art was alive.
But it wasn’t only that. In the mirror’s reflection, I watched as he slid a slim silver ring through his lower lip, adjusting it until a tiny crimson jewel was visible. Like a drop of blood in the center of his mouth.
His gaze shifted toward me in the mirror.
“Callum…you look…beautiful.” It was the only word that could truly encompass my awe, my disbelief. Callum’s expression was stunningly hard but somehow fragile. Softened, ever so slightly, by the visual acknowledgment of all the love he’d ever felt. All the love he’d ever been given.
It covered him like a tapestry. Jewels, ink, and metal. Lifetimes of love and devotion. But seeing it all, as beautiful as it was, filled me with sadness too. As I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist to lay my head against his back, I felt him shake.
Every mark, every piece of jewelry, was a life lost. A soul he would never meet again, a voice he would never hear, a touch he would never feel.
“It’s for you, Everly,” he said. His voice was carefully controlled, but I felt the pain coursing through him. “Only for you would I go to war again. Only for you. But if I’m going to go, then I’ll carry them with me. They deserve to see vengeance. They deserve to taste the blood of the gods again.”
“They do. And they will.”
He turned to face me, and I reached up to lay my hand against his cheek. It made him look more human. Less like a being carved from marble and more like a creature of flesh and blood. A creature that could feel, so deeply and with such passion he’d locked it all away just so he could bear to go on living.
“This is it, isn’t it?” I said. “We’re going to war.”
His fingers brushed gently against my face. “Yes, my love. We’re going to war, and you will lead the way.”
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
“I wasn’t ready either. But sometimes, we’re ready for far more than we believe.”
We kissed. Soft and desperate, deep and ravenous. We kissed to drown our fear, to silence our doubts, to smother our pain.
When we were ready, we went to the meditation room.
My hands were clammy with sweat as the door clicked shut behind us, and Callum set the metronome ticking. The sound made my brain feel softened, vulnerable even before I lit the incense. As fragrant smoke wafted around the room, the light dimmed. Soon, the only illumination that remained was the sparkling stars overhead, spread across the ceiling like diamonds thrown across velvet.
Callum took my hand, and together, we stood in the center of the room. Anxiety rose up in my throat, threatening to choke me.
“I don’t think I can do it, Callum,” I said suddenly. “I don’t think I can cast out. I can’t.”
“Forget the lies you’ve been told, Everly.” He lifted my hands to kiss my knuckles. “Forget everything that has made you doubt what you know you can do. I’ll show you the way. I’ll be right there with you, every moment. You’ve learned how to guard your mind, how to lock it up tight and let nothing in. Now, you need to learn how to let your mind wander again.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I tried to convince myself this wasn’t one of the most foolish, dangerous things I’d ever done. But I was not the same frightened girl who had stood in St. Thaddeus and felt the Deep One assault my mind. I was no longer the inexperienced witch who feared her own power.
I would walk into Hell with my head held high. A witch to be respected and feared.
Callum used the palm of his hand to cover my eyes, encouraging me to close them before he took my hands again. “When you walk through the gates of Hell, there won’t be a single demon who won’t feel your footsteps. They’ll shake, woman. Relax now. I won’t let go. Lower the guards, darling. Let your mind roam.”
It felt wrong. Dangerous. Like touching a hot stove or stepping into the middle of traffic; instinct demanded I stop, that I turn back.
One by one, I relaxed my muscles. Even my eyes, twitching nervously despite being closed, were a point of tension I had to intentionally force to relax. As I exhaled, I imagined the unease seeping out of me, dissipating into the air like harmless vapor.
My body could be shed like clothing, stepped into and out of as I pleased. But I had to take care with it, like a dress made of expensive silk. If I wasn’t careful, I might never find my way back to it again. Witches had lost their way in the Betwixt before, lost to that vast expanse forever. Unable to truly live…unable to die…
“Ev.” Callum’s voice was gentle. “You’re pulling back. You’re heavy as an anchor. Relax.” His fingers brushed over mine, pressing harder against my palm. “Let go. Step into the Veil. Leave the weight behind.”
I focused. I let all the nerves and fear rush over me like cold water over stone. And as it washed away, I did feel lighter. Softer. In my mind’s eye, I envisioned myself like a willow tree, bending and drifting in a soft breeze, but so deeply rooted even a hurricane could not force me to break.
With every passing second, I felt more buoyant, less corporeal, my skin strangely numb.
Something cold and damp brushed my face, as if I had walked through a wall of mist. When I opened my eyes, I found I was facing exactly that: a sea of thick white fog in which Callum and I stood side by side.
The Veil.
We walked on, silent. The mist thinned; it twisted and swirled like smoke caught in a vicious wind. Streaks of color swirled around us, like paint drifting through water.
“We are now betwixt and between all realities,” Callum said. “All worlds. All universes. If you walk far enough, not even time is your barrier. The worlds as they are, as they were, and as they will be, are all accessible to you here.”
The colors kept swirling, and if I stared at them long enough, I could see even more details within the fog. Visions of landscapes flashed before me, blown away like dust in the wind. Vast, craggy deserts. Thick, luscious forests. Unfamiliar flora and fauna, structures that were clearly not of human design.
Curiosity demanded I keep chasing those visions, that I pursue them even deeper into the mist. But that was exactly how wandering witches became lost. I had to stay focused.
“What should I look for?”
“A massive gate, of wrought black metal, that rises high enough to touch the clouds,” Callum said. His hand, wrapped tightly around my own, was my greatest reassurance. “It’s framed by great warriors carved in stone, with wings that cast shadows so large they can make the fields look like night. Can you imagine? Can you see it?”
“Yes. I can see it.” I held the image in my mind. Staring hard into the swirling mist, I could see the iron bars rising toward the sky. The fields, rolling off into the distance, and perched above it all — a shimmering city, with towers that pierced the sky.
“Those gates will open for you, Everly. Walk toward them with confidence. Without fear. Hold your head high. Know that they will let you pass.”
Although I couldn’t see it clearly yet, I was certain the gate was there. I walked toward it, now leading Callum by the hand. Slowly at first, but with every step, I moved faster. It was there, it truly was. The gate, rising so high above I couldn’t see its end. The demon warriors stood tall on either side, their hands braced against the gates.
The mist parted. Tall grass brushed against my hand as it dangled by my side, and I looked down to find that the blades were pale as pearls. A sea of white grass, bending slowly in the breeze.
I didn’t stop, I did not pause. The gate appeared sealed, but no one guarded it, and nor was there a fence on either side of it.
“A gate without a fence?” I said. “Why?”
“The fence is there,” Callum said. “Focus. Feel the crackle in the air, the heat? If anyone were to try to step around the gate, they would never enter Hell. They would wander through wastelands forever, with no way to return.”
“And will the gates open for anyone?”
“No. The gates open for the powerful. Whether that power is greatly wicked or greatly good is irrelevant. Hell craves power, it craves strength. This world carries far more magic than the human realm, and all that magic is very hungry.”
The magic was palpable, it was thick in the air and sweet on my tongue.
As the great gates opened before us, swinging back on hinges that groaned and howled like Hell’s most wicked creatures, a smile spread over my face.
