Angie Fox - ADS 03 - A Tale of Two Demon Slayers

We made our way past the last of the rosebushes and into a clearing where four paths converged around a gorgeous stone pavilion. It reminded me of a small, round version of a Greek temple. A series of white stone steps led to entrances on four sides. And at each point, sky blue pillars supported a high, domed ceiling.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

She nodded, opening a small outlet cover at the base and flipping switches until tiny white lights illuminated the structure inside and out. It gave it an otherworldly glow that made the growing dusk seem even darker. I straightened and looked out at the growing shadows of the garden. The insects seemed louder, the air heavier.

“Come.” Amara smoothed her dress and ascended the stairs as if they were altar steps.

The painted frescoes on the inside resembled a clear blue sky, with streaks of sun darting from the blaze of heat in the center. It was as if the Helios clan watched over this very spot. As we neared the top of the stairs, I saw painted waves cresting over the polished stone floor.

“It’s a potent place for me,” Amara said.

“Is it magical?” I asked.

“Only to me. As you know, memories hold power.”

She leaned back against a pillar and closed her eyes. “This is where Dimitri kissed me for the first time.”

I couldn’t help it. I had to look away. I willed my stomach to unclench as I took the last few stairs with my eyes on my feet. My joints stiffened, but I kept going. I didn’t even want to imagine those two together. In fact, she needed to pack up and leave as soon as this ceremony was over.

“So what exactly are we going to do here?” I asked, making my way away from her and the pillar. A large stone table looked as though it was permanently affixed at the midpoint of the circle. Stone dolphins frolicked at the base.

She opened her eyes slowly. “I’m going to perform a ceremony that will link me to both you and Dimitri.”

Apprehension snaked through my body. “Linked? How so?”

She seemed lost in thought. “Think of it as a psychic tie. When I’m tuned into both you and Dimitri, I’ll be able to sense exactly what he took from you.”

Amazing. Creepy, yet—I had to admit—exactly what we needed.

I ran my hand along the cool stone of the table. This woman could sense a part of me I couldn’t even feel. She may not have had couth, but she had talent. And if Dimitri trusted her, I had no choice but to do the same.

Amara leaned against the pillar and stared out into the garden. “His magic will feel like him,” she said, with a little too much relish for my taste. “I’ll know it instantly. Once I get a handle on his protective magic—and the part of you it holds—we can trace the individual who has stolen it.”

“Kind of like following psychic bread crumbs,” I said.

She gave me a withering look. “You Americans are so crass.”

“But am I right?”

“Yes, that’s an accurate enough way of describing what you can’t hope to understand.”

I leaned against the table, arms crossed. “I’m going to be so glad when you’re gone.”

“Likewise,” she said. “Now if you will be seated.” Amara moved to a small armoire on the far end and unlocked it. “We’ll prepare.”

The coolness of the stone bench seeped through me as Amara placed several objects on the table. A small painted urn, an assortment of shells and—

“A bronze knife?”

“You are familiar with griffin magic?” she asked. “Wait. Don’t answer that.”

She filled seven crystal bowls with clear water and arranged them in a circle. Smirking, she placed an eighth bowl in front of me. This one was metal and banged up a bit. Next to it, she placed the longest, sharpest pair of scissors I’d ever seen. And for the crowning glory? A razor.

“You’ll have to use soap,” she said, turning back to her supply closet. “I don’t keep shaving cream out here.”

Dread swelled in my stomach. “Exactly what am I shaving?”

She turned to me, positively radiant. “Why, your head of course.”

I about tipped over sideways. “Oh no.”

“And your arms and your legs if you have any stubble,” she said, wrinkling her nose as if I were some kind of scraggly thing. “I need you completely hair free.”

I didn’t get it. “How does hair get in the way of magic?”

Granted, I’d only seen magic through the eyes of Grandma and the Red Skull witches. They were hairy. They also did a lot of strange things with ingredients I didn’t want to keep in my backyard, much less in a spell cabinet. But the Red Skulls had one big thing going for them—deep down, I knew without a doubt they cared about me. Amara would just as soon throw me under a bus.

“I’m not doing it,” I told her. Not without a lot more explanation.

Her eyes widened. “We have to do it. For Dimitri.”

There had been one other time where I’d refused to do something during a magical ceremony. That had come back to bite me. Hard. But that was a long time ago, at least in terms of my demon slayer training. Things had changed. I’d changed. I was no longer on the outside of the magical world, looking in. I’d been to hell and back. Twice. I’d honed my skills and my natural feelings, and right now my instincts were telling me no .

“I knew it,” she said. “I knew you didn’t really love him!” I saw the fear in her eyes but something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

It put me right into teacher mode. Eight years of dealing with preschoolers will teach you a thing or two about when somebody is fudging.

And how to flip it right back on them.

I dug into the pocket of my sundress and pulled out my cell phone.

“Who are you calling?” she demanded.

“The Red Skulls,” I said calmly, hoping Amara didn’t know my phone was not international. Heck, after the long flight here, I doubted it was even charged. “My grandmother is a powerful witch. I’d like to get a second opinion.”

Amara pursed her lips as I dialed.

“Of course, if you’re lying,” I added, doing my best to act unconcerned, “I know a couple of sisters who wouldn’t mind holding you down while I shaved your head.”

Okay, that was pushing it, but I had a hunch Diana and Dyonne would back me up.

Amara seemed to feel the same way. “Fine,” she hissed. “No shaving.” Color dotted her cheeks. “I need a snippet of your hair and your name on a piece of paper.”

“Sounds reasonable,” I said, flipping my phone closed. I needed a trim anyway.

“Do it now,” she said, shoving the scissors at me. “It needs to soak for at least a half hour.”

I drew my black hair over my shoulder, noting some split ends. It’s not like I’d had time for a proper trim since I became a demon slayer. Saving the world had come first.

When I’d snipped away at least some of my split ends, I sprinkled them into each of the seven bowls.

Amara followed me, plunking royal blue stones into each dish. I could feel her watching me. When we were finished, she handed me a crystal fountain pen.

“He needs me,” she said, almost under her breath.

I eyed her as I scratched out my name on a section of thick parchment. “Look, as much as I’d like to debate with you about my relationship, the fact of the matter is that I love Dimitri and he loves me.” I handed her the paper.

She began shaking her head slowly, but I forged on. “I can understand your not wanting to be around us, and that’s fine. I’m glad you stayed and I’m very glad you can help us with the missing magic. After that, you’re going to have to let go.”

“I’m not helping you, Lizzie,” she said slowly, folding the parchment into teeny tiny pieces. “You are a side effect. I’m helping Dimitri. I love Dimitri. As misguided as he is, I wouldn’t be able to bear it if something happened to him—especially because of you.” She pinched the paper tight. “Retrieving the magic he used to find you will be the last step in his mission to save his annoying sisters. I’m honored to have a part in this final chapter,” she said, eyes blazing. “Years from now, he’s going to love me for it.”