The Lost Oracle

By Max Fierce

The god of death is free, Eris is gone and the Undead are no more. All should be well, right?
WRONG.
Ominous forces stir in the shadows as more Olympians go missing. Fabian embraces a quest to rescue the entrapped Oracle, but rather enters a grueling battle where the ultimate prize is his own life.
As loved ones face tragedy and powerful villains wage chaos, shocking revelations are discovered, new allies are made, and Max Keller finds himself at the helm of a budding war that will determine the fate of the supernatural world.
You thought finding Thanatos was the end?
Oh no, things have only just begun!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Max Fierce
• Release date: Apr 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005727246

Max Fierce

Max Fierce was born in Lagos, Nigeria. (Yes, that is him, lol.) When he is not cracking his bain trying to birth a new idea, Max reads many works from legends like Rick and Cassandra. Also, Max loves dogs, gets freaked out by cats, and hangs out with his family a lot. He is also the author of other fantasy works that are yet to be released. With Max, you can always expect a dose of power-packed action, mystery and intrigue that will leave you hanging onto your seats as you turn every page. Feel free to email him: [e-mail]

Book preview

Dedication

To my fellow demigods

Preface

The Lost Oracle is the sequel to The Infernal God, the book 1 in the Age of Demigods saga. Exciting, intriguing, mystifying.

Enjoy.

Chapter One

Tonia Hernandez wished the strange man in the trench coat would stop following them.

It was a wild hope–after all, he was the reason Dad was gone. A choking sob hurt her throat as she struggled to wipe the rain from her eyes, having remembered the last words her father had said: Get Elena to safety. Go!

Running alongside Tonia was Elena, her mood stiff with trauma, cold fingers gripping Tonia’s hand in a vise. Elena’s blue eyes swept over the gloomy neighborhood frantically. Both sisters were searching for the same thing.

Help.

But it seemed the little town of–is it Glendale or Greendale?–had closed down for the night. All the storefronts were shut, doors and windows of row houses sealed. Not a soul to be seen in the squares and narrow streets. But she figured these were normal circumstances for two o'clock in the morning.

A sudden harsh sound split the wet air, and Tonia’s stomach lurched. He was close! And she was out of breath from running for too long.

In here. She dragged Elena into an alley between buildings, their shoes making splashes in the muddles; they fell to a crouch behind a large Dumpster.

Tonia pulled her sister close and hugged her tight, praying the monster would leave them alone. He had already taken their father–wasn’t that enough? Thunderclaps drowned out Elena’s whimpers as she sniffled in Tonia’s bosom.

Despite being twins, Tonia had always treated Elena as a younger sibling, though they couldn’t have been more different. People often tagged Elena as the mannerly daughter adored by all, and Tonia the snappy hound who was quite blunt and steadfastly protected her guileless sister from predatory company. Even now, despite her nerves racing, she was more concerned with Elena’s safety.

It’s okay, Lena. We’ll be fine.

That man, whispered Elena, voice taut with horror. Her azure eyes had a dark tint. Perhaps she had been crying, but it wasn’t obvious in this downpour. H–he killed … did you s–see … h … he killed …

Heart hammering, Tonia kissed Elena’s ebony hair, forcing out the words. Don’t think about it. Everything will be fine.

Everything will be fine. Their father’s mantra. Throughout the seventeen years that Tonia had lived with him, not once had Gerald Hernandez based his conduct on another philosophy. And as a single dad he’d managed to give such special care to his daughters that they never mourned the absence of their late mother. As Dad had explained when they were old enough to know when things were not right.

Now Dad was gone. The back of Tonia’s eyelids burned from the memory: They had been driving back from a late-night concert in their father’s truck, Tonia sprawled in the cab while Elena sat gently in the backseat. Amidst laughter, the family had been doing a sing-along to an old Beyoncé album, when a single figure had suddenly appeared on the wet lane right in front of them. Applying the brakes, Dad had roughly swerved the truck off the road–only to crash into a roadblock. Elena had screamed. Then Dad had turned a worrisome gaze on Tonia.

You must run.

What? Though unhurt, she’d been delirious from the crash. I don’t–

Something had ripped through the roof then, eliciting another scream from Elena. It had looked like some sort of claw made out of thorns, sharp enough to slice through metal. With a loud scraping sound that sent icy chills down Tonia’s bones, the claw had started to cut a square …

Get Elena to safety. Go! Her father had yelled, right before the truck roof was torn open to reveal rain and horror. In a daze of panic, Tonia had scrambled out, followed by Elena who burst out of the backseat. They’d latched onto each other, bolting off the highway into the neighborhood maze.

But Dad’s scream stopped them at a street turn. Heart pounding, Tonia had swiveled to watch as–whatever the heck that was–tussled with Dad in the ruins of his truck, raindrops pelting their flexing bodies. The thing Dad was fighting … hadn’t looked human to her. It was wearing a long trench coat that hid most features, but the ones she could see were traumatic enough. Face like the bark of a tree. Hair made out of leaves. Green eyes that glowed like phosphorescent moss; all it took was one look, and Elena had crumpled to her knees in fright.

The monster had tried to leap for them, but Dad restrained it, although it was quite clear he wouldn’t last. His blue eyes had been wild with panic when they found his children cowering by a street corner. In that moment, Tonia had recalled his words.

Get Elena to safety.

Seizing her sister’s hand, Tonia had spurred them into a full sprint down the street. Elena had risked one last look, only to scream–in sync with a howl that made Tonia’s blood run cold. Dad!

But she hadn’t looked back, and they hadn’t stopped running.

A few more turns and now here they hid, hoping the monster wouldn’t find them. Elena was shaking like a leaf, her pink blouse soaked through. Tonia considered taking off her leather jacket–she was wearing a tank underneath–but froze at the dim sound of footfalls, coupled with a harsh grating noise, like the growl of an animal.

A chill swept down her spine. Elena went rigid in her arms. Tonia’s heart was thumping hard. He’s here. He’s found us!

The sounds drew closer: the taps of feet were almost subdued by the patter of raindrops, but not even the storm could disguise that ominous growling sound. Tonia barely had time to draw a breath before the Dumpster was ripped away, exposing them. Trying to block out Elena’s blood-chilling scream, Tonia shot to her feet, pushing her sister behind her.

Before them stood the man in the trench coat.

If he could even be called a man.

She forced herself to keep still as the growling creature drew closer. Up close, its vile green eyes were so bright she nearly whimpered when they were only a breath away. She could see dents in its face that sprouted seedlings. Utterly horrifying.

And yet, the scientist in her felt a spark of wonder.

Then the thing spoke in a bass drawl. It had fertilizer breath–she almost gagged. MOTHER REQUESTS AN AUDIENCE.

A loud gasp echoed behind Tonia. So stunned was she that no words left her mouth. She didn’t even think to react when brown gas spewed out of the creature’s mouth, invading her nostrils. By the time her brain realized the danger, her body was falling to the ground, her mind succumbing to darkness.

Chapter Two

When Tonia awoke, there was grass beneath her face. Soft, scented grass. Her eyelids fluttered open slowly, her throat raw. Then she became aware of her surroundings and sat bolt upright.

Her breath left her.

She was in a garden. A lovely enclosure of green centered by a sparkling fountain. Beside her lay Elena, still unconscious. Tonia gently shook her sister awake. Elena’s blue eyes were filled with wonder when she sat up. Wonder that soon switched to unease.

Where are we? she whispered.

Tonia rose to her feet, checking herself. She was still wearing her normal clothes, still wet. It seemed like they’d been … teleported here. A gentle breeze swept over them, rustling Elena’s damp hair as she gazed around the sprawl of vegetation. The rows of rosebushes and birch seemed endless around them. Tonia almost thought they were alone until Elena’s eyes lit on something behind Tonia. She gasped, and Tonia spun around.

She stared.

On the other side of the fountain was an ornate stone bench half-hidden in the shade of flourishing branches. Reclined on the bench was a stately woman dressed in a gown made out of leaves, with russet hair and vivid green eyes. She wore elbow-length gloves that added a rich hue to her olive skin.

Finally, she commented, watching them with lazy, almost bored, eyes. You show up.

Who are you? demanded Tonia after a moment. Those were the only words she could think to say, and she did not say them nicely.

The woman seemed to find Tonia worthy of her full attention. Looks like at least one of you inherited my fire. That is most wonderful.

Inherited? Tonia gasped, remembering what that … thing had told them before capturing them.

Mother requests an audience.

A … are y … you … That was Elena’s timid voice; the woman regarded her with a bit of distaste. Our … our–

Spit it out, girl.

Our mother?

The woman smiled, her green eyes starry. A mix of shock and panic was making the bones in Tonia’s legs to vibrate.

Indeed I am your mother, child. My name is Demeter. Yes, the goddess you must have been taught about in school. Agriculture, is it?

Tonia’s mouth hung open, feeling like she’d suddenly dropped off a cliff top. Elena mirrored her expression. You can’t be serious. Our mother died a long time ago, just weeks after our birth. Cervical cancer.

Or so Dad had told them. And he wasn’t a liar.

He wasn’t.

One thing Tonia really hated was being laughed at. So it wasn’t easy keeping her anger in check when the lying bat starting bawling as though Tonia were a delivered punchline.

Is something funny, Leaf Queen?

The woman–Demeter–fixed her with a bright gaze. I have always been amazed by the ingenuity of mortals when it comes to constructing far-fetched tales. Not even the gods are so gifted.

A tremor had started up Tonia’s spine. Elena was all but a statue beside her. A goddess. Our mom’s a freaking Greek goddess. You cannot expect us to believe this.

For the sake of your father, you better.

The mention of her father sparked Tonia’s temper. Where’s our dad? What have you done to him?

Demeter laughed. So many questions. So little time. You will see your father again, my red rose, if you complete one particular task for me. But if you fail, he dies. Simple.

Tonia’s heart clenched.

Elena gasped. Oh no. Papi.

Demeter turned an evil smirk on her. Yes, dear one. Papi will be gone for a long time … unless you act accordingly.

You’re crazy! exploded Tonia. You cannot do this!

Demeter seemed unfazed by her outburst. Her grin remained in place. I actually can. Kyron, my good soldier, was able to leave some of your father’s bones intact. But I can’t promise it’ll stay that way for long. Do not test me.

Elena sobbed.

What do you want from us? Despair had soaked into Tonia’s bones. She couldn’t guess why she listened to this old bat in the leafy dress, but something about Demeter’s serene expression seemed ancient, as well as dangerous.

And she had Dad.

As we speak, said the goddess, Amazons are coming to retrieve your corporeal bodies. Had to besmirch my dignity by asking, but I believe the result will be worth it. Now, listen up, girls. Both of you will discover a strange land called Themyscira. Do not be alarmed, for it is your destiny. There you will learn the other half of your history. Be sure to grasp all you can and forge weapons out of yourselves. It will prepare you for what lies ahead. On Themyscira you will perform one special task for me.

Tonia took a deep breath. Amazons? Culture? Themyscira? She felt like she was on a rollercoaster spinning out of control. Perhaps if she just went along with the conversation, this … illusion might wear off. What do you need us to do?

Demeter rose from her perch. As she walked toward them, the colors of the leaves on her dress seemed to change from green to orange and back to green. Soon she towered over them, radiant and divine. Truly she was a goddess. If you ever wish to see your father in good health again, you will seek out the one they call the Son of Kings.

Tonia blinked, thrown. It was Elena who asked, And?

Demeter’s green eyes glittered in the ambient light of the garden. "And you will kill him, with whatever means necessary."

Tonia’s heart thumped. Elena had gone ashen. We’re not murderers.

Oh, darling. I believe you do not quite know what you are. Not yet, anyway. You will have your orientation later. Demeter looked around her garden gravely, as if worried something dark lurked in the flowery brushes. "However, I cannot maintain the Psych Plane for much longer. So you must give me an answer now, and I know you will do anything to see your father again."

She had them.

Tonia shared a look with Elena. One of utter frustration and hopelessness. Seemed they had no choice. A life without Dad was impossible to fathom. Fine, Tonia said, amazed at how calm she sounded. We’ll do it.

Elena gaped at her in disbelief, but Tonia kept her attention on the goddess.

Demeter’s eyes twinkled. Very good.

The garden had started to fade at the edges, as if she were about to wake from a dream. You never told us something important, though. At Demeter’s frown, Tonia added, The boy’s name.

The goddess’s eyes blazed with such sudden hatred that Tonia found herself feeling sorry for the unfortunate victim.

Max Keller.

Chapter Three

James’s eyes snapped open at the sound of a thunderclap; he sat upright, heaving. Then a yell left his mouth as fresh pain traveled down his torso. His chest was bandaged, and his clothes had been removed. They couldn’t be found anywhere in the room where he lay–all gray stone walls and no windows. Meager light came from a burning brazier set into a wall.

James tried to stand but felt terribly weak. On his third attempt, he only managed two steps before he collapsed to the floor. Pain inflamed his senses and he cried out. The rough walls of the room seemed to trap in frigid air; his breath misted as he struggled to sit on his haunches, breathing heavily.

Where am I?

Except for the cot he’d woken up on, the room was mostly bare but for an unused chamber pot in a corner. Seriously?

James suddenly went still as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, having realized the room was not so empty, after all.

Beside the chamber pot stood a single shadow, watching him from the corner.

Heart slamming against his ribcage, James threw out a hand, intending to cause damage to his stalker, but another wave of agony roared through his skull. He whimpered.

Best not to strain yourself, said the voice, feminine and rich with dark amusement. Or you’ll die, baby.

James struggled to keep his focus. It felt like his chest was on fire. What had they done to him? Who the hell are you?

That’s not important, for now.

He looked up at her, or at least tried to. When his face dropped to the ground, he heard a muffled sound from her–sympathy? He couldn’t be sure. Footsteps moved toward him. He flinched when she squatted beside him, her arms reaching around his torso to heft him up. Quite strong, he thought, despite her lithe stature.

Where are my clothes? he asked.

Burned them. She set him back gently on the cot. The pain in James’s chest was near intolerable; he was shaking with the memory of how that devious bitch had stabbed him in the heart. How was he still alive? Don’t worry. You will get new ones later.

Slowly James tipped his head back to study the stranger. She was beautiful, and looked around his age, with blonde hair that fell to her waist, deep blue eyes and a creamy complexion. She wore nondescript clothes and although her expression was guarded, something about her seemed familiar, but for the moment his brain was too stressed to function properly.

What’s your name? Can you at least tell me that?

She hesitated for a moment. Arlana.

He looked around the room–it looked so much like a prison. Where am I, Arlana?

She must have heard the alarm in his voice. Not incarcerated, if that’s what you’re worried about. When you were brought in, you were thrashing wildly so … we had to contain you, at least until you regained consciousness. My matron said it wouldn’t be long, hence she asked me to watch over you.

Matron?

A smile. Soon, don’t worry.

James ran a hand along the spread of the bandage over his chest, wincing, though he noticed Arlana’s eyes tracked the movement, and then lower; she didn’t seem to care that he was buck naked. How long have I been unconscious?

Two days.

He let that sink in. Through the walls he was sure he could hear a faint rumbling. A storm was definitely brewing outside. What … what is this place?

Much as I’d love to answer all your questions, you’re simply not ready yet. Here–she presented a cup he hadn’t noticed her holding before–drink this.

Inside was a creamy concoction. The cup was warm to the touch. His instincts flared, but James was in such pain he would have drank from the River Styx had it meant his suffering would cease.

A gulp. The brew went down like liquid smoke. He grunted and wiped the sweat off his brow. Barely had he set down the cup when the room began to spin. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was a wavy set of blue eyes.

Chapter Four

Layla the Amazon thought she needed a break. But it seemed that was not to be.

A grunt escaped her mouth as her back met the soft grass, her chest rising and falling fast. Ow. You beat me … again.

That’s right, said Captain Valona cheerfully; she was Layla’s training partner, also the commander of the Amazon army. Valona looked built from grace, a tall middle-aged beauty with coral eyes and a lithe stature. Both Amazons were dressed in training armor. Though I’ll admit, your form is much better than before. Sneak attack! Valona drove her longsword down in a swift thrust.

Layla ducked, rolling away just as the bronze blade pierced the grass where she’d been lying. She came back on her feet, panting. They were using one of the many courtyards in Amazon City, the skies blue and clear above them, the sun aglow. At the far waterline, the sea lapped against the rocky cliffs, and the air was filled with the music of birds, scent of wildflowers, and of course, the aroma of Layla’s butt-whooping.

You could have killed me, she accused.

Valona smirked. Monsters don’t wait for you to catch your breath, sister.

Sounds about right. With a grunt of effort, Layla charged her and they entered another melee, filling the yard with the music of swordplay. Training progressed until it was well past noon. With a final clang, she heard someone shout her name. Wiping sweat away from her face, Layla lowered her sword and turned.

Standing before them was another Amazon. Layla knew her as Alia, a vivid dark-haired girl around Layla’s age with serious brown eyes. Eyes that were fixed on Layla.

Alia, Captain Valona called, what brings you by?

The Amazon offered a curtsy to their captain. Queen Hippolyta requests an audience with Layla.

She tensed. Is there a problem?

But Alia had already turned back toward Imperial Palace, moving with a sure gait. After sparing a glance at Valona, who shrugged noncommittally, Layla followed.

As they walked through the City’s streets, other Amazons waved at Layla, calling out accolades as she passed. It was embarrassing, really, being identified as a hero when she hadn’t even done anything to be acknowledged for. In her opinion, it was Max and Fabian who’d saved Themyscira, who’d ensured a chance of survival for demigods all around the world. She was proud of them both.

Alia followed a courtyard that contained some demolished buildings in various states of repair. Layla knew the cause. A week ago, an army of Undead had invaded Themyscira; lots of innocent lives had been lost, but ultimately the enemy was defeated. Now Amazons were retuning with new faces to fill the Houses in Demigod Haven–the sanctuary for Olympian demigods everywhere. And from Philoctetes, the Head Counselor of Demigod Haven, Layla had learned that Hephaestus, Athena, Demeter, Aphrodite and Artemis Houses had all gotten new residents, all of whom had been sorted two nights ago at the Pantheon Assembly. More demigods were still expected, and the search was ongoing.

Layla had even promised herself that, very soon, she would seek permission to search for James Evans, the son of Hades. Her only problem was that the Amazons did not want him on their island, all because of a prophecy the Oracle had presaged shortly before her capture. Layla doubted Hippolyta would approve her request. But she had to try. A week had passed already.

A distant bustling slowly grew louder. Layla looked up and gasped–they were approaching Imperial Palace, a grand dome-shaped heap of stone gleaming in the sunlight, the very picture of magnificence. They started up the broad steps, and Layla found herself staring around as she stalked the labyrinthe stone corridors toward the throne room; she hadn’t been here since the day she’d brought Max Keller to meet Philoctetes and the queen. She remembered their conversation about mating. The fondness of the memory kept her smiling till she walked into the throne room.

It was the most elegant room in all of Themyscira, furnished for dignity and secured like a vault. Sunlight poured through the high glassy dome overhead. None of the queen’s elite guards seemed to acknowledge Layla’s presence as she followed Alia further into the throne hall, but she knew they were much aware of her.

In the middle of the room rose a large statue of the first Amazon, Queen Penthesilea–Hippolyta’s sister who had participated in the Trojan War eons ago. Some distance behind the statue stood the silver throne, but Layla knew Hippolyta would not be on it. The queen of the Amazons was seated at a round table before the throne dais with the Head Counselor of Demigod Haven: Philoctetes, the satyr.

Middle-aged and of average height, Phil, as he was popularly called, was responsible for the upbringing of all demigods on the island. Like a trainer, servant and father all rolled into one. It was no secret that Imperial Palace served as both his residential space and the hub of his administrative duties. Scattered on his tabletop were a bunch of old parchments and scrolls containing cursive writing. Layla thought she caught a couple of the words: center, Oracle, Delphi. Phil looked up when she was nearby. She was used to his fatherly smile. It always made her feel good inside.

Ah, our bravest champion.

Layla blushed. You flatter me, sir.

It is no flattery. Thank you, Alia, Hippolyta said. When Alia had bowed and departed, the queen’s blue eyes settled on Layla. My dear sister, she commented, taking in Layla’s sweaty form. Were you rather occupied?

Layla shook her head. Not anymore.

Good. I have a new mission for you. Top secret, as usual.

Though Layla had suspected as much, the info hit her like a punch. She’d hoped to get a break from search duty after her last secret mission–finding Max Keller. But an Amazon’s work was never done. Whom would you have me seek, milady?

Some while later, Layla left Imperial Palace in fresh armor, her heart pounding, with a full satchel of rune stones. She walked down the courtyard and gazed toward the far eastern slope of the island, where Demigod Haven gleamed in the sunshine. I should go tell them, she thought, but decided not to. To worry them wasn’t necessary. She would be back in a jiffy; it wasn’t a mission she couldn’t handle.

After all, she’d done the exact thing before.

Closing her eyes, Layla crushed a rune stone beneath her sandaled feet, sending a prayer to Hera. There was a flash of amber light as the Portal came alive before her–a large, golden doorway. With one last look over Themyscira, she bounded in.

I will be back soon.

Chapter Five

The next time James woke up he felt no pain, only a sore stiffness in his joints as he sat up, groggy.

He figured he must have slept for a long period–though he couldn’t tell the hour, he assumed it was daytime. His body was fairly damp, as if someone had bathed him hours ago. He felt clean. Been forever since he felt clean. Next to him lay a blur of black topped with gold; took a moment before he realized they were clothes: a plain black t-shirt with jeans and boots. Along with the gold medallion he’d permanently borrowed from that Undead wolf king. For a moment he held it, letting the memories from that day wash over him like water. Memories of dreadlocks and electric blue eyes.

James! Please don’t do this. I’m so sorry–

James huffed, clasping the medallion around his neck; he noticed the chain was still colored with the rust of Lycaon’s blood. Fine by him, a message for future enemies. James quickly dressed and had just finished tying the straps on his left boot when the door opened.

He glanced up, expecting to see the weird hottie from before, Arlana, but when he saw her, past memories fled his mind and James bolted to his feet. You.

It was the bitch who had stabbed him! She stood there like a queen dressed in the same thing she’d been wearing last time; a laced green dress and a cross pendant on that lovely neck he wanted to strangle. Tough to see what footwear she got; her legs were shrouded in mist. Her burning torches added light to the room, her stark hazel eyes leached of color in the ambiance.

James, she said, unfazed that he glared daggers at her. You’re finally awake.

Stay the fuck away from me, he growled.

A short laugh sounded behind the woman. Arlana had peeked her blonde head in. Told you he hated your guts, Hecate.

The woman offered her a smile. It must have been loaded with words, because Arlana paled, nodded, and left them alone. Then the bitch turned back to James, who finally put it together.

Your name is Hecate, he said. He knew some Greek myth. Years ago, he’d been a geek. Then Mom had died, and James had seen this whole new side of him emerge. But he’d been on the run for so long that he hadn’t yet gotten the time to figure out the kind of person he was. And then she had tried to put him out of his misery for good. He wasn’t letting her off the hook for that. That would mean … you’re the Greek goddess of magic!

With a smile, she nodded, stepping closer. He tried not to tremble as she neared him. Staying cool wasn’t an easy thing when facing someone who’d hurt you the last time you were together.

But the more he looked at her, the more his mind wandered onto other absent details–the feel of her soft curves against him, her sweet lips … no!

He couldn’t be having such thoughts about someone he barely knew, much less a goddess. Whatever had transpired between them in the cave was better forgotten. Why did you lie to me before?

I never lied. I believe I said nothing at all.

James seethed, but she had a point. Back in the cave, she hadn’t given any direct answer to his questions.

Hecate was two feet before him now, her face aglow with immortality. Take off your shirt.

James stared. Had he heard right? Refusal was an option he considered, but something in her eyes made him believe that would not be wise. With almost-shaky fingers, he grabbed at the bottom hem of his shirt and drew it off his body.

The gold medallion twinkled in the firelight of her torches.

Hecate reached out to touch the bandage over his chest, tracing it with her shimmering fingers. James expected a surge of pain, but there was only heat. A heat that scorched every vein and bone in his body, making his breath come in short gasps.

Remarkable, she commented. I thought for sure you would be out for a week. She glanced up at his face, her lips inviting, as if she wanted to kiss him again, but the Phlegethon would freeze over before he ever allowed that to happen. You’re quite a strong vessel.

Is that why you tried to kill me?

Rather than respond, she turned away from him, stalking out of the room, her torches trailing after her. Eager for fresh air, his feet were already moving, but the outside view stopped him dead in his tracks.

He was in a colonnade that looked like the ruins of some medieval castle. The unusual gaps in the stone looked out over a dim forest stretching out for a quarter-mile, and then water …

His eyes widened. Lots of water.

From what he could make out, he was in some rundown castle on a cliff overlooking a glacial sea.

It could have been the edge of the world.

The mainland was nothing but frosty plains stretching into enormous hills that flanked the castle. The clouds above were grey and stormy, giving no chance for sunlight. A faint blizzard was roaring over the bluff, the sharp chill biting into his skin. The surface of the endless sea was a gunmetal gray, packed with icebergs as big as ships.

Fresh air, alright. But it seems the sun never shines here. James didn’t savor the scenery for long.

Having shrugged his shirt back on, he finally caught up with Hecate, who had stopped in the center of a large ball room lit with burning sconces taped to tall cracked columns. When his boots crunched on debris, he noticed an entire wall had caved in, revealing a panoramic view of the coast. The other walls were heaps of cracked stone, the high ceiling a dome of veined dirty glass.

Before Hecate stood a weathered statue made of marble and half the length of the room. The figure was unfamiliar to James, not that he cared to identify it anyway, but Hecate was looking at the statue–a man, James noticed–as though he were her lost best friend.

I did not try to kill you, she said when he was three feet behind her. If I wanted you dead, you would be.

You’re not the first to say so, James sneered, unable to help himself. Why else do you think I wear this trinket, stained with the blood of my hunter? He bared his teeth at her. "It’s a badge of honor,