Page 17

“Oh,” Albion answered Mica’s door. “I wasn't aware Mica was expecting you.” The son of Ignatius wasn’t too fond of me after what I did to his half-brother, Grey, but he also couldn’t disagree that Grey deserved it, not that I’d seen him in years.

Albion might be fifty-three years old, but he still looked twenty-five, as all immortals did.

His unnaturally dyed brown hair matched his dark grey eyes.

He worked closely with his father in politics; assisting in Stygian culture becoming more accepted and trying to turn the city toward clean energy.

Just thirty years ago, people were being hanged just for saying the word Stygian, at least today people just frown upon it.

Currently, Albion and Ignatius were trying to convince the senators of the advantages of building a dam.

“He's not,” I said, brushing past Albion to get inside. I knew my way around Mica's home. It was a modest apartment, and the only thing he kept under lock and key was his computer room. I headed straight to his living room bookshelf and Albion followed.

“What are you doing here?” Mica emerged from the bathroom.

The son of Paxon was forty-seven years old with light grey hair like his father, and black eyes.

Though, he was a bit more bold, dying his hair a bright neon green, because who would suspect a Demon that stands out.

Mica was Paxon's second, assisting with monitoring and notifying Stygians of threats.

“I need to look at your Book of Ice,” I muttered, finally finding it and pulling it out from between his cramped bookshelf.

“Why? Don't you have your own copy?”

I have the tampered copy that's been censored and edited. Though the book was thick and old, only around fifty pages of it were filled with vague descriptions and hand drawings. It was written during the creation of Demons, Angels, Selkies, and Humans and held future tellings. No one knows who wrote it. Theories lead to the Goddess of archives, Archaeia, but it’s never been confirmed.

So far, though, everything in it has come true.

I attempted to open it but it wouldn’t budge, glued shut.

“You need Stygian blood to open it,” Mica said, biting the tip of his finger with one of his fangs and smearing his blood on the cover.

He licked his fangs, two on the top and two on the bottom, like all Demons.

The blood slowly seeped into the cover and the pages loosened, allowing me to open the book. Interesting lock.

I flipped through the pages, noting there were quite a few pages missing from my own copy, but I didn’t find them necessary to read at the moment.

Stygians write from the right corner going downwards, the symbols at times difficult to decipher, as many words look similar to one another with just a single stroke being the difference between nightmare and sea.

Their sentence structure was also much more simple than Souic.

I finally arrived at the end. The last page talked about the Reckoning and the near extinction of Demons where the book ended in all the copies the people in this city held, but here there was one more paragraph.

A Demon born after the Reckoning, her power remains a riddle.

Only the heir of the Nether can bind her will, for without him, the living shall succumb to silence.

The gaze of Moira lingers, and where fate's hand pulls, she falters, until the sky is split by light.

Beneath the sea, where ripples stir the deep, lie answers to questions unasked.

And when the stars fall, the War of Wars shall begin.

“How many female Demons are living right now?” I asked.

They shook their heads. “Only one. Zuriel’s daughter, Bernadette.”

The Siren.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Why do you ask?” Mica exchanged a look with Albion.

I shook my head. If Reaper was a Demon, who was her father? If she was who the Book of Ice spoke of, what power were they talking about?

“Is this really about Siren?” I pointed at the last paragraph.

Albion shook his head with a bit of a laugh. “Doubtful.”

“Bernie may have convinced everyone she's more powerful than she is,” Mica started. “But I've been in charge of watching her, her entire life and I can confidently tell you it's not her.”

“Do you think the female isn't born yet?” I questioned.

They shrugged. “Possibly.”

I turned back to the words, memorising them in my head. “I didn't know Phobus could even have children.” Demons were created in his image and they were incredibly infertile, which is why Demons were so rare, so it was also assumed Phobus was the same.

“Neither did any of us,” Mica said.

Albion snarled at Mica. “You're not supposed to know any of this, Hyacinth.” He threatened me with the red glow of his eyes.

“I've kept my mouth shut about a lot. This isn't something anyone else needs to know either,” I said.

He gave me a nod and Mica turned to me. “Why the sudden interest? ”

“Just a rumour I overheard.” I couldn't tell them I had been spying on their clan meetings.

“Well, what do you make of it?” Mica asked.

“The odds of finding these two shouldn't be too difficult. I feel they'd stick out.”

“You'd think that,” Albion said. “But it's been nearly seventy years since the Reckoning and we've found nothing.”

“Phobus's child and the female Demon are said to be incredibly attracted to one another,” Mica said. “If we know one, the other will reveal themselves eventually.”

I slipped the book back in its spot. “And what are the clans planning on doing with them once they're found?”

Mica shook his head. “It would depend on–”

“It's not any of your concern.” Albion interrupted, shooting Mica a glare. “This is Stygian matters, and you already know too much.”

“Right,” Mica said, turning away from me. “You should get going, Hyacinth.”

I nodded, it was enough information for now. I'd figure out more later.

I gave them a polite nod and headed out.