Page 59 of Not Today, Satan
I give him a mischievous grin. “There is.”
XXVII.
We exhale together as we take it all in, and Nate lets out a low whistle.
The structure is massive and made entirely of ice. Even through the battering storm, it stands tall. It’s at least two stories high with multiple towers and parapets bursting from the roof, shimmering like blue glass against the sky.
A large door is carved into the front, flanked by arched windows. The light breaks against their panes, casting rainbow spheres across the snow. White powder blankets the roof and towers, sparkling like glitter through the storm.
“Diripo told me Father had it made for my mother.” I swallow the lump building in my throat. “He wanted to give her one beautiful thing down here. It was supposed to be their holiday getaway. She never saw it, though. I was told she died before he could give it to her, but that was a lie.”
“He must’ve really loved her.” Nate’s breath and mine mingle in the air as we breathe in succession. “It looks like something out of a Disney movie. I half expect Elsa to burst out of that door yelling at us to ‘let it go.’”
I lick my lips and exhale a puff of white. “I saw it for the first time when Father showed me the kingdom as a kid. I begged him to let me live here, but he said no one ever will. Then he got this weird look on his face and rushed me out of here.” I kick at the ground with my boot, chipping a dent in the ice. “I’m surprised it’s still here. I figured he’d have it demolished. Why leave something up that upsets him?”
Nate rubs his forearms. “Maybe he couldn’t bear to tear it down. You said he had an album filled with photos of your mom. It sounds like he never gave up on her memory.”
“Maybe.” I squint at the castle, as though Father’s secrets are etched into the ice. “I wish he’d talked to me about her, but that’s not Father. I’d have more luck getting you to go five minutes without cracking a terrible joke.” I smirk at him.
He winks back with ice-coated eyelashes. “Since my jokes are never terrible, I’d say you’ve succeeded.”
I shake my head, then press my lips together and study the castle door. “I’ve never been inside. Hopefully we can get in.”
“You don’t know if it’s locked?”
I shrug. “No idea. Guess we’ll find out together.”
As we approach the castle, the storm calms, and the blustering snow thins from a blinding curtain to a translucent veil.
The fire from my hand sputters, protesting at my overuse of its powers, and I shake my fingers and curse.
Would’ve been nice if Mr. B. had warned me my powers have a battery life.
At least the snow is only up to our ankles now, so we walk side by side, my heart quickening the closer we get to the door. I have no idea what’s inside—whether Father’s hidden more clues about my mother there, or if it’s as empty as his bedroom. For all I know, he could’ve filled it with souldiers in anticipation of our visit.
“Your dad never told you what your mom did to betray him?” Nate asks. “Like, even if he lied about it?”
I shake my head. “He shut me down every time I brought her up. I used to think it was grief. Now I wonder if he wasn’t confident enough to lie to my face about her.”
“Huh.” He shoves his hands deep into his jacket pockets and lifts his shoulders to his ears. “Imagine the Prince of Lies being horrible at lying.”
I spin the ring around my finger, the ruby catching the white glare of the snow, and mutter, “He was good enough to convince me she wasn’t alive for seventeen years.”
“Yeah, that’s not cool.” Nate stops and listens. His eyes widen as he slowly turns to look behind us. “Uh… Dev?”
“Yeah?” I don’t slow my pace. We’re so close to the castle now, I can already see myself relaxing on whatever furniture is in there, my dress and hair finally dry for once.
“Remember how you mentioned we didn’t have to worry about the sinners here because they’re locked up?”
“Of course.”
He grabs my arm and spins me around. “Maybe the rules have changed.”
I suck in a lungful of cold air and cough as it burns through my lungs.
Shadelings stumble toward us from all sides, scarlet rags that were once new jumpsuits hanging off their bodies, revealing patches of blue and purple skin. Some limp on one leg or reach for us with a single arm, their limbs surrendered to frostbite, eyes blank as the snow that crunches like bones beneath our boots.
“How did they open their gates?” I whisper. My fingers fly to the hilt of my sword, and I wince as the icy metal stings my skin. “They’re not strong enough. Only demons can do that.”
