The black dress was made almost entirely of the glossy leather scales of Hawk's fighting leathers. It hugged her figure, dropping almost to her boots, and Delilah admired it as she pulled on black and gold gauntlets. Her shoulders were capped with protective metal: spikes extending in graceful curving points that screamed these are the shoulders of a ruler. Of a carrier of death. She let her pale orange hair fall loose in gentle waves, and wore no jewellery but a simple golden ring on a chain around her neck – something she had stolen from Dante's private office weeks ago.
Delilah admired the look in her mirror. With her long, almost pointed face and thin, dagger-sharp lips, she knew she was not beautiful. But beauty could only get one so far.
I was born to rule. Not my brother. Me.
Delilah swept from her room after attaching a dark, blood-coloured cape to the back of her shoulders. Kaya and Nell, in blue and gold, merely rolled their eyes before falling into position beside her, both a pace behind. They were her bodyguards, her assassins, and she knew they had knives strapped beneath their dresses.
Silence fell as they entered the great hall fashionably late. Like every other room in Irkalla, it was carved out of the inside of the mountain. The elegant vaulted ceiling and walls shimmered with torches and the occasional vein of crystal. Tension rippled through the crowd of elegantly dressed men and women with slender champagne glasses, their mouths opening at her armour-like attire.
Delilah marched straight through the crowd, ignoring the tables of food and the music. She signalled for Kaya to snatch the chair out from under a weedy-looking politician whom she particularly hated, before throwing it down as they mounted the dais.
Dante did not move or speak as she collapsed into her chair at his side, lounging across it as if it was as impressive as his exquisitely detailed throne.
She was a queen at his side. But not his queen. And everyone in the room had their eyes on her, just as she wanted.
Delilah propped her chin on a hand, letting her eyes roam freely up and down Dante's body. "Something wrong, dearest?"
Dante's eyes were on the ring she had pilfered from him. Had he noticed its disappearance? Had he searched for it? He seemed incapable of speech – did that mean her blood was about to stain the floor, or had she genuinely shocked him? His black suit had subtle tracings of silver and a dark cape cascaded over his throne, a mantle of darkness fitting for the Night Bringer. His hair was pushed loosely back from his forehead, and if he were not so twisted, venomous and evil, Delilah might have thought him attractive.
"Capes. We match." Delilah gestured towards his outfit, wishing he would start talking. She wanted to hear these plans of his.
As Dante had not yet reacted, the crowd had returned to talking – albeit uneasily, darting glances at her every so often. Kaya stood flirting with Hawk near the steps while a group of guards gathered around her. Nell remained in the shadows on the edge of the party, watching expressionlessly.
"You are still not scared of me," Dante said finally.
Delilah gave him a wicked smile. There was a spiky black crown on his head, and it seemed to suck all the light in. It made her feel uneasy. "Of course not. We are business partners, you and I. And I'd like to know what you are going to give me in exchange for the stag." She cursed silently as soon as she had finished speaking. She had just let him dictate the terms of his repayment.
Dante paused, his eyes sweeping up and down her figure in mimicry of the look she had just given him. Delilah fought the urge to bristle, to slap him, to wink – something. Instead she waited, clenching her fingers around the chair arms.
"I will show you my plan," Dante said slowly.
Delilah frowned. Not helpful.
Dante's eyes were as cold and cutting as the blackest night air. "You think I tell many people my plans, Princess Delilah? If we are going to reclaim our rightful positions in the world, we must work together. Trust me, a stag is poor payment for learning how I plan on shaping the world, but I feel we will make progress if I show you tonight."
"What else do you plan on doing tonight, Dante?"
Delilah's chest closed up. She had not meant to sound so brazen. She had just said his name – his real name – she'd seen him snap spines for less –
Dante looked back at the crowd as if she hadn't spoken, but then gave her a sideways grin.
Oh, great ancestors above. That grin, that baring of teeth, was the most terrifying expression she had seen on his face so far. Her blood ran cold.
A councilmember walked past them, and chose that moment to hiss, "Whore," out of the corner of his mouth at her.
A scream rent the air.
Delilah sat bolt upright, blinking rapidly because it was impossible that Dante had moved so fast. He had the councilmember on his knees, one hand gripping his hair while the other twirled a knife near the man's abdomen.
The entire hall went deathly silent, dozens of eyes turning towards the dais.
Dante's face was a mask of darkness and cruelty. Except it wasn't a mask. The mask was what he used to hide it from sight.
"Now, now, Councilman Peters." His voice carried effortlessly. "I believe you just insulted our guest." He twisted one arm behind his back and the man whimpered. "You do understand our kingdom's position at the moment, do you not? Forced from our home, forbidden from the roof of the world by our fellow nations. But here we have an ally. The Pelenan Princess could be useful to us if we installed her on the throne, don't you think?"
"Y-Yes." Peters was shaking, his face bloodless. Everyone else seemed to be holding their breath, heads lowered, trying not to attract attention. No one wanted to experience the Night Bringer's wrath.
"Yes?" Dante shook Peters so hard Delilah thought she heard his bones rattle.
"Yes, Y-Your Highness," Peters gasped, breath sawing through his lungs.
"Good dog. Now, the kingdoms are united against us, but with Pelenu's support we can easily wage war on them, destroy their precious council and burn the signed treaty." Dante's voice grew more powerful with each word, until it thrummed through the bones of the mountain and even she almost felt ready to march for Vale's freedom. "So apologise. Apologise."
Peters stammered an apology, but Dante broke his arm anyway.
The crack echoed through the hall and heads turned away. People's shoulders slumped in an effort to appear smaller.
Dante threw Peters off the dais where he landed in a crumped heap. The king turned, smoothed hair back from his face, and beckoned for Delilah to follow him. "We have matters to discuss." His eyes were sparkling.
Delilah felt a burst of delight. Here was a man like her. A man who was not afraid to be cruel, because the world already was cruel. He wouldn't think twice about helping her slaughter her enemies.
So she bowed low and said, "Yes, Your Highness." She marched with him through a doorway and they left the banquet behind them, fear still buzzing in their wake.
Dante led her to his office. The desk was huge, a rug muffled their steps, and there was a window – an actual window – looking out at a ravine. The ravine was a crack in the middle of the mountain range, and the only way windows could exist. Vale had been forced to build its new kingdom underground after they had... well. Delilah didn't know if the story was true.
She'd been here three months, but hadn't caught a whiff of any undead happenings.
Dante stood by the window for a moment, gazing down at the ravine. Delilah wondered if he would attack her for stealing the ring.
"You know," she mused, "that's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. But I can fight my own battles."
"Oh, I don't doubt you could have gutted him. I just wanted to ensure my council knew the reasons I decided to strike this bargain. Most of them hate you."
"Great. I can think of a lot of people who hate you, too."
"You mean every other kingdom? That does not matter. I only count the people in these mountains."
"So what is your plan? How are you going to defy Terra, Pelenu and Anloch and get away with it?"
"Obliterate them." Dante turned slowly on his heel.
Delilah folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "That would sound impressive if you had something to back it up with. But I know your army is tiny. Your population, too, after the war. You need something else, a weapon."
"I am in the process of creating a weapon that will flatten any resistance. Not only will my people take their places in the sky again, we will make the other kingdoms bow to us. They will control us no longer."
"Sounds like my kind of weapon." Delilah itched for him to elaborate. Maybe if she stole it for a while... or at least borrowed it, whatever it was... She could snap her fingers and the Pelenan throne would be hers.
Dante unlocked a wooden cabinet and drew out a magnificent jet-black crown.
Delilah frowned. "What're you going to do, skewer people with its spikes? It's not much better than the one you're already wearing. And there are holes in it."
Dante gave her a look that told her he was considering hanging her insides out his window. "The holes are what matters. Each one will fit an Opal."
Her jaw dropped. "No."
"Oh, yes."
"But the Opals are protected –"
"We will steal each one. Until we have them all."
The Power Opals. One per kingdom. They held immense power, said to be left by the gods, and were protected in secret shrines guarded by their nation's priests and priestesses. They were so closely guarded that Delilah had never even seen the Fire Opal. Neither had her brother, she hoped.
"If it gets me my crown, I'll help," she said firmly.
"Oh, trust me, it will."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because we're going after the Fire Opal first. See? I do respect my guests." He inclined his head to her.
We. "You're coming?"
"Of course. Do you expect me to send you out there, knowing anyone could see your eyes?"
She flipped her hair. "I know, they're striking, aren't they?"
"They are a target painted on your head. Every bounty hunter in the kingdoms will be watching out for you. I don't trust you, or even Hawk, to do this alone."
She shrugged. "Well, I guess I'm glad to see you're breaking out of your bat-like habits. Will you want a ceremony for when you leave the cave?"
"Keep talking and I will skewer you with my crown." There was no humour in Dante's face.
"When do we leave?"
"In two weeks. There's something I need to take care of here first."
*
The gathering had almost ended when Delilah spotted Dante slipping away down a hall she had not yet seen anyone use. Common sense told her to find Kaya and Nell and ignore him. Why should it matter to her where he went? But the fire within her was too curious, too reckless. Dante ordered her around all the time, but he had never explicitly told her there was somewhere she was forbidden to go.
So she followed her future travelling companion.
Her stomach churned at the thought of making her way through Pelenu with him as she stepped lightly down the corridors, keeping to the shadows and far enough behind that he wouldn't notice her. Were they really going to start helping each other? Doing everything except making her address him as 'master', Dante had always made it very clear that he was above her.
The Night Bringer was not a man. She knew that much. He was a monster, a force to be reckoned with. Despite Vale's downfall, everyone in the four nations was afraid of him.
But I won't be. I cannot be afraid of anything if I want to succeed.
The corridors were getting dingier, narrower, rougher; as if the miners who hacked it out of the stone took less and less care the further they went. And it was sloping up, not down. But Valians were forbidden from making their homes high up in the mountains now, so where was it leading?
Dante's black shape seemed to flicker in and out of the shadows, and Delilah thought of Nell. His broad shoulders glimmered with the occasional pocket of firelight from a small torch on the wall. He moved like smoke.
The tunnel opened up into the entrance to a cave, and Delilah flattened herself against the wall as he stepped out onto the side of the mountains. She peered around the corner, not daring to move or even breathe, as he gazed out at the majestic blue silhouettes of the sleeping stone giants around them, wind plucking at strands of his hair.
Delilah was trapped, her heart in her mouth. What if he turned back? He would run straight into her and she had nowhere to hide.
"You know, if I step any higher the Maidens will come for me."
She jumped almost a foot into the air, heart flinging itself against her ribcage. But Dante remained unmoving, so she edged out of the tunnel to stand beside him. Above them, the mountain flanks were streaked with snow and the wind was bitter.
"Maidens?" You're scared?
"When the council signed the treaty, they decided to employ bands of those female vigilante warriors to patrol the peaks. My peaks." His nostrils flared. "I could tear them into bloody ribbons if I wanted, or set my army on them, but I would rather lay low and wait until I have the power to really decimate everyone who ever wronged Vale."
"That's my plan, too."
"You should know about them. The Maidens. It is likely that they will be our first line of defence – they'll try to stop us leaving the mountain range. There are ways to avoid them, but it would slow us down and I think a good bloodbath is what we need to start us off."
A test, Delilah thought. He had never seen her in combat, not real combat. He wanted to see what she was made of, how good she was in a fight. "I can handle anything. I won't even need your help when the time comes."
"You couldn't handle your brother."
She stiffened, taking a huge, painful breath before replying. "And I paid dearly for it. Never again."
There was a flash of light as it reflected off metal and Delilah staggered back, hissing as sudden pain burned a line along her cheekbone. She clamped a hand over her bloody cheek and glared at Dante, eyes watering. "What was that for?"
Dante surveyed his red-streaked knife as he twirled it through his fingers. "For trailing me. I always follow up on my threats, fire princess. I am not someone you want to cross. Now leave, before I decide to inflict more... permanent damage."
Hating herself, wishing she could gouge his eyes out with her bare hands, Delilah turned on her heel and stormed back through the tunnel. She shouldn't have to obey his orders, but she had no choice. He held the leash... for now.
Maybe she would get her revenge once her throne was secure.
She slunk through the gathering, avoiding everyone until she made her way back to her room.