Page 49 of A Match Made in Hell

Sadly, there’s no map to lead me there, and I don’t want to risk seeking out a demon in case I lose control again, which means I need to figure out how to portal.

I suspect this will go poorly. After telling Harper to find somewhere safe to hide, I close my eyes and try to imagine that squeezing sensation, the darkness enveloping me, but nothing happens.

I resist the urge to throw things, and try again, and again, and again.

Maybe I need to know what Glacantrum looks like for it to work. I picture a cave system like the one in Asphodel, only the walls are made of ice, stalactites descending from the ceiling, frost crunching beneath my feet. Take me there , I urge my powers. Take me there .

And they do.

My body constricts, and I nearly let out a whoop, because I did it, I really did it, and I emerge in an area almost exactly as I imagined. Everything is blue and white and frosted. My breath freezes the moment it leaves my mouth, crystallising into a fresh snowflake before drifting to the ground.

Instinctively, I wrap my arms around myself, although I’m not cold.

My powers keep me heated. As I head down the powdered path, the walls either side of me open up to reveal cells.

The bars are coated with ice. Most of the inhabitants are frozen over.

The ones that aren’t moan when they spot me, calling for help.

I shake my head with a sympathetic smile, like when you’re trying to avoid a charity collector on the street but still want them to think you’re a nice person.

If I let them go now, the demons will do far worse than give them frostbite. I’ll free them as soon as Asphodel is safe.

The path twists and winds with no end in sight. Knee-deep in snow, I trudge on, a blizzard of hail pelting my face while the ice caking the walls thickens.

Then terror hits me.

This isn’t survivable. Not for long. And if Sath has frozen over, if he’s –

I might have sent him to the Void without realising it.

My cheeks sting as tears freeze the second they hit skin.

I might have wanted to punish him, but I didn’t want this .

‘Sath?’ I call out hopelessly. ‘Are you there?’

A faint voice says my name.

I stop. My heart stops. It hasn’t been a week since I last heard that voice, but the familiarity of it has my lips tugging upwards. Plus, for all my claims to hate him, I am pleased not to have accidentally killed him.

I plough through another pile of snow to reach his cell, waving a hand to unlock it without any effort at all, like my powers are delighted to be in his presence.

He’s huddled in the far corner. Ice encrusts his clothes, and his hair is so crisp with frost it looks like I could walk over there and snap it in two.

I try to keep my face impassive as I take in the way he shivers and shakes, his lips blue and skin translucently pale. Like he’s turning into a ghost.

I don’t want him to know how much that upsets me.

With no preamble, I say, ‘I need to learn how to control my powers without falling apart.’

Sath clears his throat and tries to stand. He fails. I rock on my heels – I will not go to him, not yet. From the floor, he finally croaks out, ‘I’ll help however I can.’

‘First, I want the truth. The whole story, from the beginning.’

Sath’s teeth chatter. My skin is still inexplicably warm, but I’m not feeling all that generous. I move close enough for him to stop shaking – just so I can get my answers – but not so close he’s comfortable.

‘I died in a storm,’ he starts. ‘Our boat capsized. I remember hitting the water. It was like slamming against cold, hard rock. The waves pushed me down. My lungs burned and . . . I woke in a dark cave, with a demon staring at me.’

I swallow.

‘I demanded answers. I was a good person; I was sure I was a good person. I went straight to the king and told him I had things to do. I was set to be married. Travel the world. I wasn’t . . . I wasn’t done.’

I’m not done.

I’m not sure what’s louder: his words, or the memory of mine.

I’m not done . That’s what I said to him, the day I begged for his help.

He understood my desperation and used it against me.

I inhale, and I think he must recognise what I’ve worked out, that I’m set to tell him to rot in here, because he holds up a hand.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Back then, you were . . .’

‘Someone you could use?’

‘I didn’t have a choice,’ he replies, like that makes it okay.

‘I couldn’t do it any more. I was failing; you know I was failing.

I’d tried many times to pass the heart over, and no one succeeded.

I’d given up hope. Then I saw you resist the voices in the Void, and I thought .

. . maybe you’d be able to resist the sins when they start to whisper.

’ He goes to run his hand through his hair but fails miserably.

His fingers stick to the icy strands and he peels them away, wincing.

Good. I would say I hope he gets frostbite, except I’m trying not to be too wrathful.

‘I wasn’t sure if you’d succeed either. But you were determined and .

. . you seemed so alive. I thought you had a chance.

I made you the same offer that was made to me. An offer that was a lie.’

My jaw locks. ‘And what happened to the previous king?’

‘Looking for inspiration?’ Sath raises a brow. He really doesn’t know me well if he thinks I need suggestions on possible punishments for him. A storm cloud crosses his face when he answers, ‘Let’s just say he’s no longer in Asphodel.’

I guess Sath wasn’t good at withholding wrath either.

‘There are old journals in the library belonging to Asphodel’s previous rulers.

I used them to piece a lot of things together,’ Sath goes on.

‘The magic inside Asphodel has existed since the dawn of time, sorting souls where they needed to be. The fairest place to do it, I suppose, as the middle ground. The first to be sorted into Tartarus, Asphodel and Elysium were each automatically gifted with the magic needed to rule, imbued inside their heart. The realms were named after them. King Tartarus was about as pleasant as you’d expect, and eventually that realm wasn’t enough for him, so he used his magic to build the gates and invade Asphodel.

‘He ripped out Queen Asphodel’s heart and crushed it before her eyes.

So, she returned the favour.’ He gives me a grim smile.

‘While he was gloating, she stabbed him in the back and took his heart for herself, leaving him powerless and her with the magic of Tartarus. The gates became hers to control.

‘As time went on, the number of souls in Asphodel grew. Riots happened. She opened the gates to throw prisoners through, and demons would slip past in return. At first, she didn’t mind. They could be used as crowd control. But then you’d get demons with . . . ideas. Demons like the Sorter.’

‘If you knew she was a problem, why did you send me to her that first day?’

‘I didn’t realise how much of a problem she was .

’ He rubs his jaw. ‘Some struggle more than others with why they’re here, and I thought it would provide you with some closure if you saw the volume of dead sorted into Asphodel.

That you’d accept it was inevitable. I never expected her to be plotting all this.

I thought she was just like the rest of them, eager for blood and nothing more.

I should’ve known better. She’s always been ambitious.

She convinced Asphodel to build her the morgue – according to the journal, Amara, as she was known then, got a kick out of seeing everyone’s sins written down and tormenting them with their mistakes. ’

‘I’ll say,’ I mutter, thinking how much she relished telling me about mine – although, given what she was aiming for, there’s no guarantee what she showed me that day was true. ‘I don’t know why Asphodel would agree to that.’

‘Automatic sorting was a drain on the realm’s magic, which would only lead to it falling apart faster.

This seemed a harmless solution in the grand scheme of things.

Amara was compelled to sort appropriately – it’s hard to disobey a direct order from the carrier of the heart – and besides, if she started sending everyone to Tartarus the privilege would be revoked.

‘The other demons weren’t as easy to appease, and there were too many to compel them all into good behaviour.

They tempted Asphodel to give in to sin, and the heart’s link to Tartarus grew stronger.

The lines between the two realms blurred.

Asphodel was becoming Hell itself, and that’s not what it was designed for.

‘Something needed to be done, so the queen devised a series of tests. She wanted to find someone with the will to resist temptation, who might be strong enough to hold the heart and reverse some of the damage she’d wrought.

Someone who could keep the gates shut. Thus, the mantle was passed.

Again, and again. The problem, they all found, is that they were good people being forced to do bad things.

To appease the demons stuck on this side they had to .

. . well, you’ve seen it. We all succumb to one sin or another.

Either they enjoy what they’re doing and become corrupted that way, or they hate it, like me.

Time and time again, the gates weaken a little more. And now there’s you.’

‘Yeah, me, the person who didn’t pass the final task.’

‘You said it yourself, you failed on purpose,’ Sath says. ‘Because you hate the demons. If anyone’s going to keep this place in line, it’s you. They won’t tempt you.’

‘Of course they’ll tempt me! Do you have any idea how badly I want to destroy them all? I want to burn them alive. I want to gouge out their eyes. I want to –’ I shudder. ‘I’m tempted, believe me.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you; I’m sorry I put this on you. But I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t believe in you. Let me help you. We can fix this, together.’

I’m silent for a minute, weighing his words. The only way I can see to keep my wrath in check is to remove anything that ignites it in the first place. I square my shoulders. ‘I want the demons dead.’

‘That’s –’

‘Don’t tell me what’s not possible. You’re going to teach me how to use these powers, and then you’re going to help me kill them all. Maybe then I really will be able to resist sin, and keep the gates closed for good.’

I’m sure he’d love to argue with me some more, but instead he sighs and finally staggers to his feet, wincing when he uses the icy wall to haul himself up. He holds out a hand. ‘I’ll do what I can.’

I hesitate before taking a step towards him. ‘I’m accepting your help because I need it. Don’t think I’ve forgiven you.’

He gives me a sad smile. ‘Good job we have eternity for me to make it up to you.’