Soul Fire (Darkling Mage 8)

“Hey, Asher,” Norman called out of the phone. “And who’s that on the couch next to you, Dust?”

“Oh, that’s Mason. You haven’t met him yet.”

Mason leaned against my shoulder, squeezing into frame. On my video screen, the little reflection of Mason next to me on the sofa grinned broadly.

“Hiya, Mr. Graves,” he said, waving with a loose wrist, his free hand smoothing back his hair as he gave my dad an excessively goofy grin. “It’s nice to meet you.” Dad waved back, a bemused smile on his face.

I tried not to smirk. Mason really knew how to charm people. Maybe we really were related, in some twisted, alternate timeline kind of way.

“He’s like my son,” I said. Mason laughed. Dad’s forehead crinkled.

“Wh-what?”

“And we’ve got an exploding dog. It’s this whole thing.”

After swapping a few niceties with my dad, Mason and Asher eventually trailed out of the break room themselves. I looked around the emptiness of our living area, everything cleared out of the way, and made eye contact with the abyss beyond the stone platform that carried all our furniture. No walls in the outside areas, just a long, hard view of the void, and that had never bothered me in the past, but the helplessness of our situation made the Boneyard feel just that little bit drearier.

I couldn’t help sighing, and Dad caught on pretty quickly. He frowned.

“Something’s the matter,” he said. “You can tell me anything, Dust. You know that, right?”

“I know,” I said. Except that I didn’t want to burden him with the knowledge of what we were going through. “It’s just a really tough time for everyone here, you know? Saving the world and all that shit, it kind of gets exhausting after a while.”

Even past the mustache I could see Norman’s lips press together into a tight line. “Listen. I know you don’t like weighing me down with what you think are just your problems, but it’s always cool to share. Really. I worry about you, and it might help relieve some of the pressure.”

I shook my head and forced a smile. “Can’t tell you, Pops. Classified information. I promise, when all this is over, I’ll come and visit.”

Dad sighed, giving in, before he nodded. “Sure, sure. Hope that’s not too far away,” he said, in a kind of tone that softly suggested how he would very much like for me to stay alive, at least until we got through our next visit. “Bring Herald, I haven’t really had much of a chance to talk to the guy.”

I chuckled, feeling my ears going red. “Dad, please. Don’t embarrass me. God, I wish I could burn all my baby pictures. I know you’re going to use them against me.”

He held up one warning finger. “Don’t you dare. I’m keeping them locked away the next time you come over, and – oh. Hello.” His gaze unfocused slightly, then looked past my head.

I didn’t think there was anyone else in the living area with me until I followed his eyes. Looking back at me was a woman’s strangely familiar face.

My heart jumped up my throat as I leapt up off the couch and whirled on my feet. There she stood, her smile an enigma, her face a constant, ever-shifting puzzle.

“Fleshling,” Hecate said. “It has been a while.”

Chapter 19

“Gotta go,” I muttered to my dad, ending the call even as he sputtered in protest. I love him, but when a goddess peekaboos at you from behind your living room sofa, you kind of have to shift focus.

I slipped my phone into my pocket, ran my fingers through my hair, and smoothed down the creases in my shirt, like any of that even mattered.

“Hecate,” I said. “It’s been a while.”

“Quite.” Hecate smiled, running her fingers along the edge of the couch. She looked as she always did, wearing a gown cut out of midnight, her skin an unnatural shade of white, her features beautiful, yet always changing, indecipherable.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Horror. I almost said horror instead of pleasure.

“We have been in your thoughts, fleshling.” She stepped around to the front of the couch, sitting on the edge of the armrest, looking down at the piece of furniture as if in puzzlement. “You’ve met so many of our brothers and sisters now. Perhaps you shall meet the father of our pantheon as well.”

I held my hands up in protest. “No no no, no Zeus. One All-Father is more than enough for me.” I furrowed my eyebrows. “Wait. Did you say that you were in my thoughts?”

She looked up at me and blinked. “Have you not noticed, fleshling? Think back to recent discussions. We heard our name being mentioned. Quite a few times, in fact. After all, when a mortal prays enough, is it not a goddess’s place to listen?” She grinned. “Perhaps even answer?”

This was the thing with Hecate. She liked to talk about answers, sure, but actually arriving at something was always such a production. The Greek goddess of magic liked to trade in riddles and vague references. But as much as I’d lost patience with the other gods of her pantheon, I knew deep in my bones that Hecate was not among the ones I should even consider affronting. I thought of my next words carefully, taking a long, deliberate breath.