Hell's Revelation (Book 3)

Chapter 8

The heat and gently pulsing bubbles of the water cased time to melt away until it was nothing but a haze on the edge of my consciousness. If I could just while away my time in there, forget about all of the big problems and just be left in peace to live out my days I would be happy. But of course that could and would never happen, and eventually the niggling pull of reality dragged me from my warm comfort.

If it were only about me I would stay there, block everything thing out, forget the last few months had even occurred and to hell with what might happen. But it wasn't just about me, far more was at stake than I could ever have comprehended such a short time ago. Too much rested on my shoulders for me to ignore anything.

"Who in their right mind would ever choose to be a hero," I muttered to myself as I dragged my heavy feeling limbs from the pool.

Far from feeling refreshed and invigorated by my dip, I felt drained and sleepy. A part of me was wishing I had opted for sleep instead of the bath like Lucas had suggested. Perhaps I would still be able to catch an hour or so – if Lucas was still sleeping and I snuck carefully into the bedroom – there wasn't much we could do until Frank returned from his wandering anyway.

The heat in the air saw the water rise off of my body in steaming clouds, drying me very effectively which was a blessing as there was no sign of a towel; though I was also faced with the prospect of having no clothes to wear save for the rough cotton shift in which I had awoken. More a sack than a dress, I didn't really relish the idea of slipping that grubby scrap of fabric over my newly cleansed skin. It was far from practical, nor even very comfortable, but what other choice did I have?

I thought it fairly unlikely that Lucas or Frank would have collected any of my things down here, and besides in my new body, I doubled if anything I'd owned previously would even fit me any more. Best I could hope for would be to ask Lucas if he had any ideas, though I was loathe to wake him if he was still sleeping, especially as I had been a part of the cause for his lack of recent rest.

I turned towards the doorway - figuring I'd decide when I got there whether to wake Lucas for clothes or just curl up and sleep – and was hit with a moment of self-reflection, quite literally. I hadn't noticed it on the way in, but one entire wall of the room was a huge mirror of hematite. Silver grey and polished so highly that the glow from the fires reflected off its surface and added to the light that brightened the room. Though that was not all I could see reflected in its surface, and it was a shock to my system seeing myself as I was now for the very first time.

Colours didn't show up so well in the glossy silver surface, but even slightly blurred the shock of white hair came as quite the surprise. I reached for it and took a bundle of strands in my fingers and actually looked at it for the first time to make sure my eyes were not deceiving me. I'd been too occupied before to pay too much attention to the colour of my hair, but I could see it now, and I didn't like it. Not only was it white – almost transparent even as I held it up to the light – it was thin and poker straight. Barely even covering my scalp, it felt as if hair had been little more than an after thought in the making of my new form. I supposed I should be glad I wasn't bald.

In comparison with the hair, however, my skin no longer looked quite so pale. In fact it seemed to glow with a faint, rosy hue in the orange light, sucking in and feasting on the heat from the stone room. And though it looked paper thin as the heat from my blood shone through, it was veined and tough like marble.

Most striking of all, however, were my eyes. I'd been expecting the basic black, demon eyes like all the others, but what I actually saw was a pleasant surprise. I was used to the amethyst colour, but now that was all that could be seen. No iris, no pupil, just a solid orb of deep purple.