I knew what was coming and I clenched my hands, not wanting to hear the words, not wanting to show my fear.
“Pandora went lamenting her fate in the silent woods, and then out of the woods came a whisper. Perhaps it was my masters, perhaps something else equally mischievous. It said: ‘Open your jar. If you have the courage to face every evil thing that emerges, at the bottom of it you will find this hope: that you will never die, but become like Prometheus for all eternity.’ So she opened the jar—”
“Because you should always trust bodiless voices in the woods,” I muttered, nails biting into my palms as I tried not to imagine the pop of the stopper, the first whisper of song echoing from the jar’s mouth.
“—and all the Children of Typhon rushed out and began to ravage the world, inflicting sickness and death and madness on the race of men.”
I remembered the shadows bubbling out of my skin, the people screaming in Father’s study, and if that were done to the whole world at once—
“But because they had looked into Pandora’s eyes as they emerged, they were bound to her. They could be locked up again only if Pandora were cast into the jar, and as she begged for mercy, this is what Prometheus did. Then, having lost the bet, he turned himself over to Zeus, who chained him for the eagle.
“So Zeus got what he wanted: Prometheus was locked away, while the damage done by the Children of Typhon guaranteed that mankind could never flourish enough to threaten the gods. Prometheus got what he wanted: Pandora’s daughters remained behind and the race of men continued. And Pandora got what she wanted: she never died, but became exactly like Prometheus, for they were both trapped in eternal torment.”
He finished and raised his eyebrows at me, as if waiting for a reaction.
I glared back at him. My skin still twitched with leftover horror, but I was not going to give him any sort of show.
“I don’t see how that story proves your point,” I said stiffly. “If Pandora had known all the truth, she would never have opened the jar.”
And if she hadn’t been so stupid, she would never have imagined she could make her impossible wish come true. But I wasn’t about to admit that at this moment, I understood every ounce of Ignifex’s contempt for his victims.
He leaned toward me, for once with no laughter in his eyes. “She was exactly like you. She was brave enough to risk anything for what she wanted, and she knew a little too much of the truth.”
On the last words his voice grew soft and bitter. Before today, I had never seen him this serious, and it made me feel like the ground was wavering beneath me.
I leaned forward, showing my teeth. “Do you fancy yourself Prometheus, then? Will you throw me in a jar to save the world?”
“I’m the demon lord, remember?” He brushed hair out of my face, making me flinch back. “I wouldn’t kill you for half so good a reason. But you have to admit you are quite a Pandora, albeit with less selfish motives. Just last night you opened a jar of your own.”
For a heartbeat I could feel the shadows bubbling through my skin, though I sat safe in sunlight.
“Yes, and how did those demons get behind that door?” I demanded. “Or behind the sky and out into our world, if they’re all locked away with Pandora.”
“Did I say ‘all’? Zeus let one or two remain outside, to further humble the race of men.”
“One or two?”
“Or three, or four, or ten thousand. But not enough to destroy mankind, so Pandora’s doom did achieve something.”
I rubbed my arms and looked away at the horizon. “The darkness eating you last night. It was different.”
“Oh, me, I just don’t like the dark.”
“You—” I accidentally glanced at him and looked straight into his eyes. I remembered the fear in those eyes as he said, Please, and I jerked my head away, throat clenched.
“What? Do you think I almost died? I will have you know, I am not so easy to kill as that.” I was staring at the grass, but I heard him shift. “Or do you think that was the first time I ever got caught by the darkness?”
“No,” I muttered, though I had not thought about it before.
“And don’t tell me you’re sorry, because that would make you a very pitiful assassin.”
“I’m not an assassin!” My head snapped up and I saw that he was kneeling right beside me.
“Oh. I’m sorry. That would make you a very pitiful saboteur who carries a knife for nonviolent purposes.” His crimson cat eyes were laughing at me.
I smiled. “Then it’s just as well that I’m not sorry. I wish I’d left you longer.”
“Well, that’s a pity.” He leaned toward me. His collarbone was damp, and I realized suddenly that my dress still clung to me in pale, damp folds. “Because I had just been thinking of ways you could make it up to me.”
He touched my chin with a finger. The air was still and hot in my throat.
Abruptly his hand dipped down to pull the key out of my bodice. He twirled it as he sat back, laughing, then hung it on one of the belt strapped across his chest.
“You—” I choked out. Then I lunged at his throat.
He blocked me easily with one arm, but we both tumbled over; he landed on his back with me on top of him.
“You see?” he said. “Not at all a good assassin.”
“Shut up,” I snarled, and stopped his mouth with a kiss.
I stunned him for only a moment; then he locked his arms around me and kissed me back as fiercely as the sunlight beating down on my back, and for a few minutes we said nothing at all. I didn’t know why I had ever felt that he could dissolve or unmake me; this kiss felt like coming alive, and I was helpless only in the way that I was helpless to stop my heart from beating.
Finally I let him go.. We still lay side by side, only a breath apart; his right hand was under my head, and his left hand embraced my shoulder. It was not unlike the lazy mornings when I refused to get out of bed. I knew that he was the enemy of me, my house, and my whole world; I knew that he would likely have no mercy for me and I must certainly have none for him. And I was prepared to rise and fight him, but not yet. Not just yet.
Surely I could lie in his embrace another moment, listening to his steady breathing, my own heart racing on ahead. Surely I could drowse a little longer in this sunlit dream of happiness where I felt loved and safe.
He traced a finger through my hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a wife with hair this long and dark. You won’t need to be ashamed when you are laid out with the others.”
But dreams, of course, always ended.
I shoved away his hand and sat up. “Don’t count your trophies before they’re dead.”
He sat up as well. “And here I thought I was giving you a compliment.”
“Is that why you take wives? So they’ll look pretty, all laid out in a row?”
He looked away. “I take them on the order of my masters,” he said flatly. “They want to be sure I know that nobody can ever guess my name.”
The honesty of the words made my breath stutter. I looked at the ground, not wanting to see him in a moment when I might pity him, and then I finally noticed it: a silent whisper of a heartbeat, sensed instead of heard. It hummed in the ground, rippled through the air, and I realized—
“Yes,” said Ignifex, “this is the Heart of Earth.”
I blinked at him. “What’s that?”
“Oh, don’t bother looking innocent. I could draw your sigils for you.”
“Then why did you bring me here?”
“It’s pretty.”
“You don’t think our plan will work.”