Celestia nodded, her gaze sharp as she studied my face.
According to Nonna’s legends, the goddesses were the original source of our power, diluted over time through the First Witch’s descendants.
I looked the silver-and-lavender-haired woman over carefully. Her face was lightly lined, but there was no clear indication of her age. Fauna had mentioned that her animosity with Wrath was centuries old, which meant she was likely immortal. The shade of purple in her hair also did not escape my notice. It was the same color of my tattoo with Wrath, and also when I saw luccicare, the faint aura surrounding humans.
I couldn’t tell if it was excitement or fear pumping through my veins.
“So if a witch uses arcane symbols with their spells, it increases the potency of that spell.”
“Correct.”
I slid my focus to Fauna, who was squinting into a cauldron now. “Is it possible for anyone to enchant a skull and send a message? Perhaps a prince of Hell, or a witch.”
“All is possible; whether it’s probable is another story. Those with knowledge of arcane symbols might be able to do such a thing.” Celestia motioned for me to sit. “Were there any symbols carved onto the bone?” I shook my head. “Then I doubt a demon prince or witch was responsible. It was likely someone much closer to Source.”
Someone like the First Witch. I kept my breathing even, unwilling to alert anyone to my heightened emotions. If Celestia was the First Witch and her daughter was cursed, that meant the devil’s first wife wasn’t dead after all. And if she truly lived, then I was definitely right about the witches on my island being murdered for a different reason.
One that had nothing to do with the devil seeking a bride.
And everything to do with revenge.
“Lady Emilia?” Fauna broke into my spiraling thoughts. “Shall we go back to the main palace?”
“Yes.” I stood, then spun around to face the matron. “One last question. The Curse Tree. I’ve been told it grants more than wishes, that it offers knowledge. How would one go about obtaining information instead of a wish or a hex?”
Fauna’s attention shot to me like an arrow, but I ignored it. Celestia narrowed her eyes.
“Carve the true name of the one you seek information about into the trunk. Then take one leaf from the tree. Careful when you do—the leaves are as fragile as glass. When you desire the truth, break the leaf in the presence of the one whose name you carved.”
I thought about the First Witch, of legends and fables we’d been told. None had ever used her name. “What if I’m unsure of the person’s true name? Will their title work?”
“Names have power. Titles are a show of power. One can be taken or given on a whim, the other cannot.” Celestia smiled in a way that set my nerves on edge. “Was there anything else, my lady?”
The way she said “my lady” drove home her point. It was a courtesy title, something given that held little meaning outside of this realm. My name was different. Aside from my first name, I would only be a princess or lady here. On my island I would forever remain Emilia Maria di Carlo unless I married. And only my surname would change, never my first.
“No, thank you. You’ve been most… informative.”
TWENTY-FIVE
I gently placed another book on the floor. Haven, the heavenly counterpart to Wrath’s personal Hell below, appeared as if a storm had raged through its rainbow-colored shelves. I snagged another ancient tome and flipped through it, mindful of the delicate pages.
The books in this library were all written in Latin, so I understood most of what was in them. Not that it helped my situation.
“Blood and bones.”
Another grimoire, another disappointment. There were no records of the First Witch, though that could have been due to the fact I didn’t know her true name. In Palermo, Wrath had said something along the lines of “the First Witch, as you call her,” which meant that was not the name the demon princes knew her by. If I couldn’t find something soon, I’d have to ask him. Which I’d prefer to avoid for several reasons. The first being if he knew La Prima was here and was harboring her, I wasn’t sure if he would thwart my efforts at uncovering that mystery.
I’d searched for records of Celestia, but there was no mention of the Matron of Curses and Poisons, either. If she was a royal healer as well as a poisoner, I would have thought there would be court records of her. Either mentions of her saving lives or taking them.
There was nothing.
It was as if she did not exist outside of that tower chamber. Further proof she might not be who she claimed.
I dropped to the ground, my skirts pooling around me. I was in a lovely navy and gold gown today with flowers embroidered across my bodice, elegant enough for a lady of the Royal Demon Court, and comfortable enough to spend hours on my knees in a darkened corner of the library, searching for answers.
I flipped through a rather thin journal filled with notes and sketches. It spoke of demons that had been made through unnatural sources. Not quite lesser demons, but close. These creatures ranged from human-passing in appearance to a mix between the natural world and mortals. I paused on one illustration. It was humanoid in shape, but its skin was tree bark, its beard moss, and its fingers and limbs were branches of varying lengths and widths.
The next image was of a young man with an enormous set of elk antlers. Another showed a woman with pointed ears and ram horns that curled down to her shoulders.
Notes spoke of spells and hexes that went wrong, turning mortals into nightmares. Shunned and cursed from their world, they ended up here, where they could roam the underworld without fear of persecution.
According to the book, most had scattered across the realm, ending up in the Undying Lands to the northwest, and an eastern mountain range called Merciless Reach.
One note caught my attention.
Creatures made through primordial fear often crave blood. They seek life and there is no greater symbol of life than the heart.