Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked, 1)

Candles of Darkness should only be used under the direst of circumstances. Light a navy or deep purple candle, sprinkle a handful of niter powder around its base, and call forth evil from the farthest reaches of the north and south.

—Notes from the di Carlo grimoire

Moonlight spilled like silver blood across the rooftops, and dribbled onto the streets. It was still early enough that quite a few people were out. Some carried packages from the market, others hurried along, looking tired and worn from a hard day’s work.

Thanks to the recharging nature of the elemental bath I wasn’t tired or drained anymore, but the last several weeks had taken their toll. When I’d stuck orange blossoms in my hair before leaving, I noticed the sharpness of my gaze, and the gleam of suspicion that hadn’t been present before. I was still the same Emilia, just a bit more cautious and on edge. I thought back to my sister’s final weeks and wondered how, if she’d encountered any of the princes of Hell, she’d hidden it from us.

Maybe she had been on edge, shaky. And maybe that was why Nonna had been pointing out all the signs from the goddesses. She knew the storm was coming. I’d been too focused on refuting fantastical claims to notice.

I hurried through the streets, grateful I wasn’t alone. I didn’t want to run into any demons, royal or otherwise. Remaining in the magically protected palace was undoubtedly wise, but I couldn’t hide from my many enemies forever. Staying there also wouldn’t help me hone my skills with watching people speak, and seeing if they lied. Each day that came and went could bring a new witch murder. When I’d finally shaken off the last of my demonically induced despair, I’d thought about something I’d missed before. Something that might not mean anything, or it could tie everything together. The monastery.

I couldn’t stop wondering why my sister had been there two nights in a row. After Vittoria had been passed up for preparing the bodies of the dead, she hardly ever stepped foot in there. I thought about the summoning circle located in the chamber where my twin died. If she didn’t set it up, that meant someone else did. Someone who might be responsible for summoning Greed and Envy. Maybe I could catch them in the act of making another circle. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Thanks to Lust’s demonic influence, I’d lost the last two weeks and—

Claudia paced the small courtyard separating the dormitory from the monastery. Tears streamed down her face. She yanked at her hair, mumbling. Her skirts were dirty and torn, dark rusty splotches splattered her bodice. I rushed to her side; she didn’t seem to notice me. She was an absolute mess—which wasn’t surprising considering her cousin’s murder a couple of weeks ago.

“Claudia?” I cautiously reached for her. She refused to look up. “Are you all right?”

“They said not to use them. To never use them.”

“Use what?”

“Bones and black mirrors. Black mirrors and bones. Piles of bodies and ashes of the fallen. Bones of the dead, and the dead are dust because I’ve seen the raven’s wings beating against the crescent moon. The moon is a fang, waiting to sink its teeth into us all. Devouring. Devouring blood and bone until we’re dust.”

She dropped to her knees, unsuccessfully trying to pry stones up from the street. Dried blood coated the beds of her nails. They were cracked and torn to the quick.

“I hear it. It whispers to me and sometimes it’s so loud I can hardly think.”

I stared down, horrified to note the ground was scarred with several long, thin lines as if she’d been clawing at it for quite some time.

“Claudia, please.” I bent to place my hands over hers, but she craned around and hissed like a feral creature, her eyes void of recognition. I jerked away. “What happened?”

“Dust. Dust. We’re mirrors in dust. We’re skulls without flesh, bones without marrow. Death. Death would be welcome. None are welcome. And you”—her dark gaze shot to mine—“you’ll burn and burn, and the moon will have her vengeance, and the sun will swallow us whole and there will be nothing left. Stars. The stars are out, and they’re falling like feathers ripped from the mighty raven because he craves their meat and she wishes to feed him until he’s gorged, but he will never be satisfied. He is sin and is glad of it.”

Black mirrors were used for scrying, and some people also used animal bones, though Nonna cautioned against using items touched by death. She argued the future should only be viewed by the living, that things rotting deep within the soil had broken down into something else, and moved on from this realm, and therefore were no longer worried about what was to come.

As far as I knew, Claudia only used a handful of gemstones or spell candles.

She rocked back and forth, whispering. Her words were rushed and laced with a frenzied panic. She wasn’t speaking exclusively in Italian anymore, and I didn’t understand half of what she said. I couldn’t help but fear she was repeating messages from creatures I wouldn’t want to meet in the flesh. I tried reaching for her again, not wanting to leave her alone in this nightmare.

She struggled to get away, but I wrapped my arms around her, smoothing damp hair from her brow. “Shh. Shh. The stars aren’t falling. We’re all safe.”

“Safe. Safe in chains and locks and black mirrors with no keys.” Claudia rocked in my arms. “I hear it, or them. It’s hard to tell. They’re all talking at once—the bones of the dead, and the dust of the stars, and the devouring moon with its vicious grin. The goddess who is and is not, is vengeance.”

A terrible suspicion pooled in my belly. “Did you use human bones?”

“It said I would know. That they’d tell me. The dead shouldn’t mind. The dead have no mind, no will. No memory. Our minds were made for forgetting. The locks don’t fit the keys. I only used the bones because it said to. Lovely stars were supposed to light the way, lead me to them. I was supposed to help. They won’t stop screaming . . . make them stop screaming!”

“Who’s screaming?”

“The damned! They think they burn, but there are worse fates than fire and ash.”

It was unnervingly similar to what Wrath had said earlier.

Claudia threw her head back and screamed, raising an army of goose bumps on my body. Lights went on in the monastery dorms. I held her tightly to me, trying to keep her from thrashing. She needed to be still before the brotherhood arrived.

“It’s all right. Everything’s all right. Breathe.”

“Black mirrors. Burning eyes. Death comes bearing friendship. Inferus sicut superus. The book needs blood. It craves it. Blood breaks it.” She shoved me away, and whipped around. “Hide your heart. Hide it before—” She tapped my chest, shaking her head. Tears streamed down her face. “Too late. They took the ticker, and tucked it away beneath rock and dirt. Death. Bones and dust and screams. Gone. Change is here.”

“What change did you see?”

“Angelus mortis. He’s coming and going, and is a cunning thief who stole the stars and drank them dry. He will take you. You’re already gone. In the end, you choose. But he’s also chosen. I’ll mourn. I am mourning. Like leaves on the wind.” Claudia plucked what I could only assume were imaginary leaves from the ground, and blew them from her palm. “The angel of death claimed you. Changed you. You are here, but not there, there is where you will be, your life is ended. Same but different. For eternity.”

I knew enough of scrying to know her warnings were not simply rantings, or signs of madness. I imagined this was similar to what happened to old Sofia Santorini when her scrying went badly eighteen years ago. It sounded like my friend was trapped between realms and realities, hearing a hundred different messages at once. I couldn’t imagine how terrified she must be, lost within the prison of her mind with no hope of escape. I hoped this wasn’t a result of the spell I’d asked her to work. If it was . . .

I gently took Claudia’s hand in mine. “Let’s get you to Nonna.”

“They’re all talking at once. It’s hard to understand. To listen. The same voice speaks above all others, cruel, smooth like silk and sweet like honey. Choose, it says. I wanted a taste. It was poison. I was not meant to know. He’s coming. No, no, no. He’s here, no longer there, but here. He walks among us, hidden in shadow. Like death.”

“Nonna will know what to do to help. We must go to her at once.”

She dug her nails into my arms hard enough to make me wince, and whispered, “Run.”