Harley Merlin and the Cult of Eris (Harley Merlin, #6)

The trials had changed since I was last here. I had no idea what we were heading into. But, judging by what we’d already gone through, it wasn’t going to be a slice of pie. Potential death, imminent death, and more death were pretty much the options.

Dawn streaked across the interdimensional bubble, bolts of pink and red shooting through wisps of cloud, turning the purplish haze to a clear blue. Aside from the occasional storm, this place could be mistaken for paradise. Katherine had chosen well. And so had my great-grandfather, all those years ago. Drake Shipton had more islands to his name than the East India Trading Company used to have. All the places that the National Council had no clue about. I’d have liked to have met the guy, just to test the mettle of his gigantic balls.

As soon as we headed down the main walkway, I realized where we were going—the same disc of black glass where I’d put Shinsuke on his ass. The Red Robes were already sitting in wait. Bunch of sheep. I noticed a few hungover faces in the crowd and smirked. Not that much had changed since I left this place. The cult worked hard and played hard. And while some got their kicks turning humans into mutants, others were a bit more traditional. Booze and music and long nights.

My guts almost erupted from my throat when I noticed the figure sitting in one of the stone thrones. In the gloomy half-dawn, I’d almost missed her.

Ah, Mother… there you are.

I’d been wondering when we might meet again. She didn’t like to fraternize too much with the underlings, but she showed up every now and again to light a fire under everyone’s backside.

I glanced at Harley. She was staring dead ahead, her eyes narrowing. Easy, tiger. Don’t give the game away. I rested a hand on her forearm to remind her we had to keep it cool. She gave a subtle nod and dropped her gaze. This wasn’t going to be a walk in the park for either of us. It’d take every ounce of strength we had, combined, not to try anything stupid.

“This is the third trial,” Naima said, prompting us to halt in the center of the black disc. “No fighting, no taming, merely an interview with our divine leader. If she takes kindly to one or both of you, then you will live, and you will take your place among us. If she does not, then you will die by Death by a Thousand Cuts.”

There it is, the death clause.

“Relax,” I whispered to Harley. She was shaking now. Most likely with rage rather than fear, but it could’ve been a mix of both.

“Easy for you to say.” She kept her gaze down.

This was going to be an awkward conversation. And that was putting it mildly. I’d have taken a golem and another round with Shinsuke over this, any day of the week. Why had Katherine picked this as the third trial? She was a blood and gore kind of woman, and this had none of the above. This was creepily intimate and deeply unsettling. Maybe it had something to do with how I got caught, and how the Ryder twins were outed. We’d been her prize soldiers, and we’d failed. Maybe now she wanted to select members personally, to make sure she got the right people. To avoid those kinds of failures again. Failures like me.

Or Kenneth Willow. I smirked at the thought. Harley had mumbled something about that sad sack in her sleep. Something about him being part of the rituals. I couldn’t, for the life of me, think of any reason why Kenneth would be part of any of them. Where did he fit in? A jumped-up hex-thrower with a ridiculous bowtie and a puffed-up ego?

The dweeb himself was currently swooning over the sight of his beloved leader. He almost had anime eyes, he was gazing at her so lovingly. Harley and I weren’t even on his radar, not with Katherine in the vicinity.

Still, I was dying to know what Katherine thought of me now. But I guessed I’d never find out. This wasn’t the time for a mother-son heart-to-heart.

Pushed forward by Naima, Harley and I made our way to the edge of the black disc and bowed before Katherine. An amused smile turned up the corners of her lips. She was dressed in an emerald-green gown that made her look like a Celtic queen, her red hair in a braid over her shoulder. A gold circlet sat on her head, finishing the I’m-an-almighty-goddess look.

“Remember who you are, okay?” I glanced at Harley, in case she needed reminding.

She nodded. “Nothing else matters.”

Naima and Tess had already stepped away from us, making the encounter all the more intimate. Yeah, there were a bunch of people watching, but it was really just us and her, her and us. She tapped her fingers impatiently on the arm of her throne and looked over us both, her eyes drawing in a first impression. Her face was hard to read. It always had been. She constantly wore this dark, amused expression. I’d only seen her lose her cool a handful of times, and the memories weren’t something I wanted to repeat.

Steeling myself, I held her gaze. My muscles were wound so tight I felt like I was dangling off a cliff, holding on for dear life. Which, in a way, I sort of was. This was Katherine Shipton. My mother. The woman who wanted me dead. The woman who gave birth to me. The woman who wanted to destroy her own creation because she hated it so much. The only person on this planet who knew and understood my whole life. She’d shaped it with her own hands, after all. She’d manipulated everything. She’d shown me what she wanted me to see, whether it was about my dad, or the world, or the limits of my own power.

My only advantage here was that I also knew Katherine better than anyone. Nobody had seen every facet to her personality, except me. I’d been there at the beginning of all of this, and I was sure as hell going to be there when it crumbled. How do you like me now, Ma? But what could I do with that knowledge, gussied up as Pieter Mazinov? How far was I willing to go? Right now, I wasn’t sure. My mind was still racing.

“Pieter Mazinov, yes?” Katherine spoke. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

I nodded. “Yes, Ms. Shipton.”

“Eris will do. We should start as we mean to go on,” she replied with a smirk. “I’ve got to say, you look pretty good for someone who had a nasty mauling. I thought your face would be hanging off or something. Or there’d at least be a rugged scar. Chicks dig scars, apparently.”

“A ruse, Eris. A ruse to keep the authorities off our case.”

“I’ve always thought faking your own death to be a little trashy. It shows a lack of resolve, to be quite frank. But I guess it worked out for you and your sister, since the authorities think you’re in the belly of some half-starved polar bear.”

I smiled at Harley-slash-Volla. “I wanted to protect my sister.”

“How sweet.” The words dripped sarcastically from her lips. I knew she was checking for lies or deceit. Her face didn’t say much, but it didn’t have to. I knew her style.

“Family is everything, Eris. Where we’re from, it comes first above all things. In a way, this place is like a family, full of all the people that the magical world has cast aside—the black sheep that nobody cares about. And once we’re part of this cult, our family values will extend to the rest of the members here. The cult will be prioritized above everything else.”

Katherine chuckled. “I thought I kept the nature of the third trial a secret.”

“That’s true. We didn’t know anything about it, Eris.”

“Then why does your reply sound rehearsed? Or do you just practice that in the mirror every morning while you’re brushing your teeth? A little ego-stroke to start the day?”

I felt heat rise to my face. “Something like that. It’s been on my mind a lot since we decided to come to you and devote ourselves to your supreme mission.”

“Goodness, my behind must be starved of affection.”

I frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“You seem intent on kissing it.”