Page 117 of Demonic Cage
“Why have you come?” she asks coldly.
“You know why I’m here, and I know you want to help me,” I say, surprising myself with how confident I sound.
A sharp pluck of a string responds, a wild melody breaking free. It doesn’t match the garden’s calm. Pandora looks at me. Her date-colored eyes are framed with red streaks. Has she been crying?
I take a step forward.
“Did someone hurt you?”
Pandora laughs mockingly.
“As if you care.”
“I do care.”
Her arched eyes narrow to thin lines, then relax, accompanied by a sigh.
“Since you left, I’ve been thinking about what you said. If they had told me what awaited me, what would I have chosen?”
I swallow hard. I look at the beautiful girl’s silky face, then stare at her vibrant hair color. If Pandora was indeed created by Hepotis, the gnome did an excellent job, but it means she existed before the birth of angels and demons. She’s older than Darya, though I still haven’t figured out how old or where the Demon King comes from. Is Kripot from the same world as humans? Or was he also a god?
This world is full of details I’ve barely considered. I blame a pair of gray eyes, along with myself. I shake my head. I’ll get answers to everything, but not now.
“I’m sorry. Truly. I shouldn’t have said that. I… honestly don’t know why I did.”
The girl nods after a moment, as if she’s been pondering it for a long time.
“You’re looking for the dagger.”
My heartbeat quickens.
“Do you know where it is? What it looks like?”
Pandora shakes her head.
“Only the feathered ones know where it is.”
For a brief moment, I wonder why Pandora doesn’t call them angels.
“Lavian said I’d find the dagger where my memories are.”
Pandora’s eyes light up as the sun breaks through the clouds.
“You really haven’t figured out what that means yet?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I had,” I say, suddenly feeling a surge of hope. “So, you know what it means!”
Pandora nods, then her voice deepens to an unrecognizable level. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as she speaks.
“Tell me, Lotte,” she sings. “Would you rather remember, or forget?”
My body goes still.
Of course. Léthé asked me this when she nearly drowned me in the bathtub. Every time a child transformed, the mermaid brought forth a river from the ground, each one lighter than the other. The River of Remembrance.
I shake off my paralysis.
“Thank you, Pandora! Do you know how I can find the source of the rivers?”
