"Diamante might have an answer to that, but I'll leave it to her to explain. I'm sure she will be by to see you soon." The distaste was notable in her voice, but I knew she was attempting to hide it.
Diamante had become a sensitive subject for us since learning that she ordered Liam to seduce me as way of luring me into her coven. However, I was sure that Maye had to be somewhat grateful that Diamante's coven, Sacred Moon, came to my rescue without asking for anything in return. I wondered if she thought her aid would make me reconsider my decision to remain with the Meadow Falls coven.
Feeling the need for a change of pace, I decided to move on to a different subject. "What is this place?"
"Couldn't rest before probing for answers, I see." She smiled, leaning into the chair some more, and sighed. "It's a hospital that was created for all supernatural creatures. We can come here to get treatment without being judged for what we practice or what we are. It's one of the few places where we know we're safe from one another. I guess you could call it a sanctuary, but its name is The Ether."
"As in the mythological place that souls are stored? I thought that was a term that non-witches used."
"Yes and no. The Ether is real, and yes, souls are stored here, but only the ones that Death clears for reincarnation. Souls are sometimes recycled, but only in extreme cases. This place has many purposes and far too many to explain in one sitting." Maye scooted her chair closer and smiled. "Now, are you going to open that box, or am I going to have to do it for you?"
A slight laugh escaped my lips, but I peeled off a silver ribbon that had been tied around the box, along with a sprig of baby's breath. The box creaked as I opened the engraved lid. Nestled inside, I discovered a white gold ring. The surface of the band was decorated with symbols I didn't recognize, and in the center of the band lay a green stone. It was rich in color, with white lights that danced along it.
"It's beautiful! What kind of stone is this?"
"I'm glad you like it. It's called Seraphinite – it was your mother’s."
I was about to place the ring on my finger and paused. "My mother's?" My hand fell to the sheets, still clenching the precious ring.
"I'm speaking of your other mother." My head snapped up in confusion, but before I could ask, Maye continued. "You know that your mother was possessed by a winged one. This is from that mother."
"I don't understand. My angelic absentee mother gave this to you?" The knowledge gave me a mixed set of emotions. On one hand, I was intrigued by the novelty of the item, but it brought a sense of irritation as well.
"Not exactly. She gave it to your father to give it to you. I happened to find it while searching through the basement, before we sold their estate. I thought you should have it. It's rare and the saying is that the stone was originally worn by angels, because the first feather of each angel resides within their stone. I think this was her way of ensuring you would have a piece of her with you, even if she couldn't be."
"Maye, it's sweet of you to think of this, but how do you even know she wanted me to have it? I mean, it isn't as though you knew her, and I doubt my father would ever have given it to me."
Maye reached into the pocket of her wool sweater and handed me a crushed envelope. "This was also in the box."
I looked at the blemished paper. It had been opened, which explained Maye's knowledge. I bit my lip in uncertainty and folded the envelope before placing it in the box the ring had been in. I placed the ring on my finger and smiled at Maye, wanting her to feel secure in her decision to give it to me.
The ring felt rich with power, stemming from a source that seemed unlimited. I felt more alive than ever and as astounded by the power of such a delicate stone.
"You don't have to read it now, I understand. You should rest." Maye pressed against my shoulder until I lay down, took the box and tin to place on the bedside table, and tucked me in. "Sweet dreams, darling. You're safe here." She kissed my forehead before settling back in the chair to read a magazine.
The lights made it difficult to turn off my mind and succumb to the rest my body demanded, but I eventually slipped into a serene abyss. It was a place of no worries, fear, or future. Without the worry of my future, I felt liberated.
CHAPTER 7
WILLOW
Lying on my bed, deep in my thoughts, I didn't initially register a guest in my chambers. When she cleared her throat, I bolted upright, nearly knocking the music box off the bed in my hastiness.
Calla stood at the foot of my bed. Her hands were gripping a long, white dress, holding onto the fabric with all her might. Her hair hung in tatters over her right shoulder in a chaotic braid. Silver shimmer decorated her profile at the edges of her eyes, and an elegant pendant lay around her neck. Her stance was reminiscent of a patient from the mental ward, while her movements contained the anxiety of a trapped bird with a broken wing. To a stranger, I had no doubt that they would assume she wasn't all there in her head. However, in the short time I had known her she had demonstrated intelligence that could war with any other. I had no doubt that she observed more than others would give her credit for.
"Hi, Calla. Everything okay?"
She smiled and said softly, "Death asked me to prepare you for the ritual. He said that you would probably take it better if one of us does it."
"Excuse me?"
"The ritual to bind you to our pack and activate your inner Hellhound is going to be performed tonight. Death was going to bring you up to speed, but he... asked me to instead."
Calla's smile was hesitant. I wondered if Death ordering her would have been a more accurate description of what brought her here.
"How, exactly, are we all going to accomplish that?"
Silence bounced off the walls of my domain, while Calla remained frozen. Her head was bent and her eyes looked up and to the left of her, the way people do when they are listening to another talk. "Don't worry yourself with the ritual. That can wait. We have a lot to do before then."
It was then that I noticed a chest on the floor. Calla lifted it and walked into the atrium. I followed closely behind. Once she stood next to the small lagoon, she positioned the chest on the rim and unlocked it. When the lid opened, a rustic sound echoed off the various trees before settling on me, making me cringe.
Calla reached inside and withdrew objects, which reminded me of the ones witches used when casting a circle. The next hour consisted of being primped and ordered around. Whenever I attempted conversation, Calla cast a disapproving glance my way before continuing her previous activity. She was deft and kind, but it bothered me that the ritual was shrouded in secrets. Why couldn't I ask questions?
When Calla was finished with her ministrations, I wore an outfit I was sure Izzy would have died to own. Silk and tulle slowed around my waist, down to the floor in an ebony shadow. A slit up to my hip on my leg made me uncomfortable, but I relaxed when I tested movement and was certain nothing vital showed. My midriff was bare until an inch beneath my breasts, which were covered by a collage of the fabric the skirt was made of. The straps of the top crisscrossed over my shoulders and melded together at the space between my shoulder blades. When the wind caught the skirt and the light flickered against it, a glimmer of lilac shimmered along the hem.
Calla gathered my hair and created a thick waterfall braid against the crown of my head, allowing the masses to tumble down my back in chestnut waves. She led me into my bathroom, grabbed makeup supplies, and began dabbing variations on my lids and lips.
As Calla concentrated on my appearance, she explained that the ritual had portions I might find unsavory. However, it was important that I not hesitate. Part of joining their pack meant that I must take a step towards trusting them, which was vital in the ritual. She wouldn't explain more than that, but smiled when I tried to produce more information from her.
I was afraid to look in the mirror, but when Calla swiveled the stool to face it, I was astounded at my transformation. I looked like one of them, as if I truly belonged amo
ng these warrior goddesses. My eyes were enhanced with shades of gray and violet, while a pattern of veins gathered at the outer corner of my eyes and swept towards my hairline. My cheekbones were highlighted with an ivory shimmer, and my lips were covered in a wine lip gloss. My hair still resembled its structured self, but with a hint of exotic I wouldn't have thought possible.
"Are the others going to be dressed like this?" I shouted towards the bedroom, realizing that during my inspection, Calla had left me alone.
She came back in, carrying lilies in black and white. I sat still while she placed the buds into the braid at the top of my head. "Yes and no. We will be wearing white, but the design will be similar." A wicked grin flashed before she whispered, "Except for Ivy, she likes to stand out. I wouldn't be surprised if she walked in wearing neon yellow."
I laughed. Anxiety began to creep up on me. Calla continued to arrange the flowers in my hair, while I worried over my future. I was scared and even more terrified to admit that fear.
"Stop worrying. We take care of our own." Calla stood motionless, her eyes narrowed at mine in the mirror and I realized this was her attempt at halting the rush of overwhelming emotion that had taken hold of me.
"I'm not one of you yet. No offense, but I can't help but worry. Your insistence on keeping silent about what's going to happen to me is making it all worse." I paused, "I know that you all answer to Death, and realize you are probably not allowed to give me details, but it would make everything much easier."
"You're right that I've been told not to tell you details about the ritual. I'm sorry for that." I started to tell her it was okay, but she drowned me out with her own voice. "You will be given a new name. That isn't technically part of the ritual. Hmmm... we will all be with you and..." She hesitated. "Don't be scared. Just because you aren't part of our pack, doesn't mean that you aren't our sister." She leaned in, wrapped her arms around me, and surprised me with a hug. "I would never lie to you."
Uncomfortable with the show of affection, I sought a new avenue for our conversation. "A new name? Willow isn't good enough?"
"All Hellhounds have a mortal and immortal name. Our Hellhound name is given to those we trust, but our mortal name is for other uses."
"Oh."
Somehow the thought of being given a name didn't bother me. I was shedding the skin of my old life. It only made sense that my name for this world would be different. I only hoped I wouldn't be stuck with a name that I detested or one that reminded me of someone else. If it wasn't unique, Death and I were going to exchange words, which I was certain most people thought I didn't know.
"Do I get to learn everyone else's other name?"
"Of course. Tonight, each of us will provide you with a gift to show our acceptance. When we bestow the gift, we will also give you our true names. This will all happen before the ritual. My gift to you is your outfit. I made it for you." She smiled and I glanced down in awe, suddenly glad that I hadn't complained about excessive display of skin.
"Thank you. It's the most beautiful thing I have ever worn. I love it. Am I... do I give you something in return?" Glancing around my chambers, I wondered what sort of gift would be appropriate for a Hellhound.
Calla snickered, covered her mouth, and murmured behind her fingers in a jumble that was difficult to comprehend. "No, silly, this is sort of the equivalent of your birthday. Only you get the gifts."
I nodded, as Calla regained her composure, suddenly embarrassed. "So, what's next?"
Calla grabbed my hand, leading me towards the main hallway of the Hellhound lair, and stopped at the branch that led to Bay's domain. She kissed my cheek. "Welcome to our sisterhood. My name is Scrye." Her eyes had been pure black, but when she spoke her true name, white spread from her outer eye towards her pupil, finally immersing it in white, as well.
"Um, thanks. Do I call you Scrye or Calla?" Her names were beautiful and both suited her perfectly.
"You may call me either, unless we are in mixed company."
"Since you don't have parents, did you choose your own name or did Death give it to you?" I wasn't sure if the question would insult her or make me sound daft, but I was curious how the other Hellhounds received their different names.
"We choose our mortal name, but our Hellhound name isn't given. The name represents you as your truest self, revealing parts of your soul that are hidden from others. Death reveals it to you, but you already have the name. He is simply the translator."
"Why did you choose Calla?" My eyes squinted in thought. I loved the name, but choosing your own would be difficult. If I had to choose mine, I would likely have thousands of names I loved.
"Calla lilies are my favorite. They're graceful, elegant, and pure. They are displayed at the highest and lowest events of a lifetime." She shrugged. "Scrye is my true name because I have the ability to see past the tangible. I'm a seer."
"Then Calla is the perfect name for you." Calla or Scrye blushed, avoiding my eyes. "I wasn't going to ask about Scrye. I don't want to pry, but since you offered the information... would you tell me more about it?"
"I would be glad to, but now is not the time. You still need to make your rounds and we have an eternity to talk." Scrye smiled and walked towards her domain.
I shook my head in wonderment. This world was more complex that I had imagined, but in a serene and tantalizing way. I was beginning to see that it wouldn't be difficult to care about the Hellhounds. They were each so amazing that I wanted to know more. Beneath the wall of strength and security that each of them exuded, I could sense loneliness. It must be depressing to know that you are part of a dying species.
I made my visit to Bay, who revealed her Hellhound name to be Whisper. I learned that she was the carrier of secrets and a telepath. It made me wonder if my mind was safe from her. I felt guilty thinking that she would invade my inner mind without permission, but at the same time, it would have been nice to have a sensor go off every time she read my thoughts. Just as I worried over this, she brought me her gift. All thoughts of telepathy vanished when she handed it to me.
In my hands, I held what at first appeared to be a small crown. However, after closer inspection it was obviously a diadem. Walking over to a nearby mirror, I placed it on my head, careful not to ruin the waterfall braid Scrye had created.
The diadem was white gold and rested on my forehead. At the center was a full moon and crescents laid on either side. Chains arched from the front to the closure in back with stands that hung, circling my hair. At the end of each of the descending chains were small charms carved from various stones. It was lovely and brought tears to my eyes.
Whisper then explained that the diadem would block her telepathic ability. She guessed that I would be uncomfortable with her gift and created the diadem specifically with me in mind. The pure elegance, coupled with the thoughtfulness of the gift, was astounding.
I soon found myself standing in Aria's great hall. The lights were dimmed with cathedral ceilings and chandeliers handing from the highest perches. A wooden table rested on a burgundy rug large enough to fit an army, and took up the middle of the room. Sound carried from the outer courtyard and the faint scent of hay lingered near the open windows.
"Sorry that took so long. I thought you would take a bit longer with the others." Aria grinned and motioned for me to sit at the table. She took her seat across from me and slid a rectangular box coated in blue suede towards me. Opening the lid, I found two glowing daggers.
"Well? Do you like them?" Excitement emanated from Aria, but I was a bit disappointed. I had no idea how to fight, let alone use daggers. "You'll never find a better set than these."
I nodded. "Aria, I love them. They are amazing, but I don't know how to use them."
"That's part of your gift. I am going to teach you. You're going to need to learn anyhow. It makes sense to learn with your own weapons. I know Death already gave you a small arsenal, but..." She tapped the box. "He didn't provide you with anything like this."
&nbs
p; Inside, I was laughing hysterically. If only my friends could see me now. Who would have thought that I would own more weapons than a small battalion and them combined?
Aria demonstrated some maneuvering tactics with the daggers and showed me how to grip them. A clock sounded and she walked me to the door, but before I pulled the ring of the dungeon-like doors, Aria reminded me, with a hand barring me from leaving, that there was more to this visit.
"Forgetting something?" I stared, waiting for her to continue. "I hope you're not this forgetful all of the time." Aria winked, as a serious shadow cast across her expression. "My true name is Echo." Aria's voice changed with her name, taking on a haunting song that projected throughout the room. She then stepped back and I walked through the doors in a gaze. Echo's voice had a hypnotic effect on me, and before I knew it, I had walked into the hall of Ivy's domain.
My dress waltzed with the draft while I made my way towards the one Hellhound, who made me want to flee. Ahead, I noticed plants moving, as though they possessed a mind of their own, and my stomach dropped. Worried that a Venus flytrap was going to burst forth from the walls, I quickened my steps until I stood before the writhing plants, which I assumed was her doorway.
Ivy brushed the plants away from the entrance to provide a small space to walk through, and the doorway closed behind me.
"I don't have all day, you know. Quit gawking. I want to get this over with," Ivy sneered, sitting on her canopy bed.
The temptation to scream for help was consuming me, and finally did when I glanced down to see a snake twining itself around my ankles and climbing up my skirt. Everything went black after that.
Crystallized light pierced my eyes. Shards of uneven pain blared through the slumber I was tempted to wallow in. The migraine itself wasn't enough to convince my inner self that waking up was a good idea. Ivy's voice made her way through the maze of confusion to stand proudly at the center of my vision, finally convincing me to piece my memory into a cohesive pattern.