“Enter,” she called from deep inside, her voice rumbly like a demon, with a layer of smoothness atop the gravel to indicate her dual nature.
The antechamber had a domed ceiling, and white crystals embedded in the walls glowed softly next to red demonic runes. I passed through another curtain of bones to find the woman tending to a small cauldron inside a hearth. Tall and slender, she wore a shimmering black dress that flowed to her ankles. Her feet were bare, and she had adorned her curly blonde hair with dried flowers, sticks, and rodent bones.
She hung an iron spoon on a hook above the hearth and turned toward me, half of her mouth drawing into a smile. One side of her face looked like a normal witch, with smooth, fair skin and a deep-set, brown eye. The other half appeared almost melted, the skin a grayish hue, a white sheen clouding the eye.
“Do you require guidance?” she asked.
“Information.” I offered the book. “I hope this payment will suffice.”
She took it, one brow lifting as she brushed her fingers over the cloth cover. “Where did you get this?”
“From a powerful witch in the earthly realm.”
She opened the book, nodding her appreciation as she scanned the pages. “Yes, this will do. Sit.” She gestured to a table with two wooden chairs and used a rag to remove the cauldron from the hearth.
I did as she asked, watching her intently as she set the pot in the center of the table and lit two red candles beside it. “What information do you need?”
I chuckled dryly. “Everything that has happened here and in the earthly realm in the last four centuries.”
She paused at my request, flicking her gaze to me before turning to a cabinet and plucking two jars of herbs from the shelves. “The history of this realm I can give you. What happened across the veil is shrouded at best. I can see bits and pieces, but to access four centuries’ worth of history is a feat only Hecate herself could achieve.”
“Show me what you can in relation to Salem, specifically to the Holland coven and their enemies.” I leaned forward as she sprinkled the herbs atop the liquid in the cauldron.
She let out a slow breath, regarding me as she sank into the chair. “Sands of time, four centuries deep, reveal yourself to he who seeks.” She circled her hand above the cauldron, and her brown eye glazed white to match the other.
“Look,” she said as she stared through me, her essence connecting with the energy of the universe.
I gazed into the pot, and the water rippled. My vision blurred, allowing me to see not with my eyes, but with my psyche. In a matter of seconds, I absorbed the last four hundred years in Hell, the changes in language, the magic, a veiled view of the new hierarchy created in my absence. Lucifer had appointed a new trio to fill our ranks, though I could not tell whom he had chosen. It was fascinating and infuriating at the same time.
“I have seen enough of this realm.” I leaned back in my chair and shook my head, chasing away the vision.
“Now Salem.” She waved her hand above the cauldron again, and I peered into the fragments of time.
I had hoped to find visions of Isabel, of the amulet and my brothers’ skulls. Instead, the seer showed me human inventions, automobiles and airplanes, televisions and computers.
“This information is useless.” I started to look away, but a swath of shimmering pink hair drew my attention to the vision. Cinder stood facing a man in uniform, her silver tongue no doubt convincing him the magic he’d witnessed wasn’t real.
Two women stood behind her, one with purple hair, the other with blue. Such a strange mutation, even for witches. As the uniformed man walked away, Cinder turned to the women, bringing their faces into full focus. Their features were so similar, the shape of their eyes, the curves of their lips. I had no doubt the three were sisters.
I gasped, the realization yanking me from the seer’s vision. Cinder had called herself High Priestess. She had two living sisters.
“The curse is coming to fruition. I must go.” I rose to my feet, my intention set on returning to the earthly realm. After everything the vile Isabel had put us through, I refused to allow the curse to transpire. I would find her descendants, exact my revenge, and bring my brothers home.
The seer’s eye brightened, the iris returning to its natural brown hue. “Be careful, Prince. The gears of fate are moving. May they not crush as they turn.”
7
CINDER
“Frigging harpy-hounds and their dagger claws.” I gingerly touched the bruises my wardens had created when they’d shoved me into the cell. I’d tried negotiating with the fiends, explaining my predicament, but I might as well have been talking to a broomstick. All they’d done was grunt and bark the entire way here.
One of them had snapped at me, but the leader had wacked him on the snoot, reminding him of Discord’s order not to hurt me. “No bite,” he’d said before shoving me into the cell and slamming the door.
I waited until their footsteps receded before grabbing the bars to give them a shake. Big mistake.
A bazillion volts of electricity rocketed through my body, sending me careening backward into a stone wall. My head smacked it with a thwack, and my vision wavered as my knees buckled and I sank to the floor.
I squeezed my eyes shut before blinking three times, bringing my prison back into focus. Three stone walls surrounded me, with a gate made of metal bars closing off the rectangle at the front, a stone floor and ceiling adding the finishing touches to my claustrophobic cage.
