The Infernal Crown: Of Roses and Lies

Chapter 17

She lifted her gaze to meet mine. Her eyes were dark and shadowed and her face was a careful mask of blankness. It was the cool façade of a warrior, I noticed. Honed by centuries of wars and deaths. My chest tightened to a point of pain.

"Yes," I replied quietly.

The word was soft, a cold statement.

Kallistê gave a slight nod of understanding.

"Good, those damned beasts deserve it," she said, sheathing her dagger. "My stallion was killed by the creature, we would have hike back to the manor on foot."

I didn't dare peer back at where the rotting carcass of my mare now lay, the smell of death itself wafting through the air. No, I didn't look back as I let my feet take me far, far away from the yawning abyss of darkness.

Perhaps it was an illusion of exhaustion but walking felt like wading through quicksand. My lungs were burning and hoarse and my legs were numb from pain. Silence had been our only company since we started yet I could understand why. There was a raging storm beneath those blue orbs of Kaliistê's with a promise of violence. I did not doubt that brutality could easily end my life, much less everything around her.

"What were those things?" I asked, breaking the tense stillness.

Kallistê's face was still pale, her eyes still staring ahead. "You don't want to know."

"Please. Was it that ... Alger you mentioned?"

Kallistê's sapphire eyes were dark as she answered hoarsely. "No. It was a creature that should not be in these lands. We call it the Baphomet. You cannot hunt it, and you cannot kill it. Even with your beloved arrows."

"Why can't I look at it?"

"Because when you look at it—when you acknowledge it—that's when it becomes real. That's when it can kill you," Kallistê said, her voice monotonous and cold. "Some say they are the offspring of death and the Mother. Others say they have a piece of the soul of the Mother herself. Molded by her hands and given life with her breath."

A shiver wormed its way down my spine. This was the Asteria I'd expected—the creatures that made humans speak to them in hushed tones even now. The reason I hadn't hesitated, not for a heartbeat, when I'd let the arrow plant itself into that creature's onyx black eye. "I heard its voice in my head. It told me to look." And it knew all my secrets, all my desires.

Kallistê rolled her shoulders. "Well thank the Vonain that you managed to kill it. Cleaning up that mess would have ruined the rest of my day." She gave me a wan smile. I didn't return it.

I still heard the Baphomet's voice whispering between the leaves, calling to me. It was enough to send true fear into my heart.

After an hour of meandering through the trees, hardly speaking to each other, I'd stopped trembling enough to turn to her.

"So you're old," I said. "And you carry around a dagger, and go on border patrol. Did you fight in the War?" Fine—perhaps I hadn't quite let go of my curiosity about her hand.

She winced. "Shit Eleena—I'm not that old."

"Are you a warrior though?" Would you be able to kill me if it ever came to that?

Kallistê huffed a laugh. It was good enough to lighten the mood. "Not as good a Phoebus or Oberon, but I know how to handle my weapons." She patted the hilt of her dagger. "Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress? If you took down the Baphomet, you probably don't need to learn anything. Only where to aim right?" She tapped on her chest.