Chapter 8

After Cera left, Ursula tidied away the clothes the little oneroi had left behind. She tucked the knickers into her bureau, then hung the dresses and shawls in her bedroom closet. As she organized, she ran her fingers over the soft fabrics: cotton dresses for home, delicate embroidered tulle for speaking to the lord.

Nothing she could fight in, but apparently that wasn’t supposed to be her role here. She just had no idea what her actual role was.

In her bedroom, she pulled off her bloodstained gown and slipped into a black cotton dress that hung to her ankles. And conveniently, the simple dress had pockets by her hips—so she wouldn’t need to store anything in her panties.

She glanced around the bedroom—the stark gray walls and clean lines of the violet bedspread weren’t exactly inviting. What were the chances Bael would allow her to decorate this place? She needed a reminder of her most calming dreams—of the dusty-blue forget-me-nots and yellow aster, bathed in the amber light. Those beautiful but intangible memories she could never quite grasp... Honeyed sunrise, blue flower petals, tall blades of grass. The warmth of a landscape so different from Nyxobas’s Shadow Realm.

With a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, she crossed to the enormous windows. What, exactly, was she supposed to do with her time? There was no TV in this place, no armory where she could hone her skills, not even a bookshelf with a collection of novels.

She stared out at the vast crater. The opposite side of the rim was so far away, its enormity dizzied her. Even Asta, with the strange, gray clouds that swirled around its violet peak, looked thin and delicate from this vantage point.

Ursula glanced down at the houses that clustered around the valley floor. Could she glean anything about the habitants by looking at their homes? In the darkness, it was difficult to make out much. What I wouldn’t give for a telescope right now.

Still, if she strained her eyes, she could tell the houses were small and built of stone. Among the sea of darkened windows, a few lights twinkled. Did Cera and other oneiroi live in those humble dwellings? From the crater’s valley, they could literally look up to their lords in the imposing lunar palaces.

How long had Bael lived here in the Shadow Realm? At the thought of his otherworldly power, a shiver ran up her spine. Instinctively, she reached for her white moonstone—her lucky charm. Her stomach flipped. Of course, it had been left behind when she’d stripped off in the subway. Bloody hell. She’d had that thing for as long as she could remember, not that that was very long, but still it had been the one constant that had travelled from her former life to her new one.

She bit her lip. She’d been stripped of everything on her journey here—her magic, her sword, and her touchstone.

She turned, scanning the room. She’d just have to find a new lucky charm. Her gaze landed on a mahogany jewelry box that rested on the dresser.

She lifted the lid, momentarily dazzled by the small treasure inside. Among the silver and diamonds, she found a beautiful brooch. Inset into the silver setting, a cameo stone depicted a lion’s head. She ran her thumb over the surface. Somehow, it didn’t feel soothing.

She dropped it back in the pile, and picked her way through rings and necklaces. Too delicate. She needed something strong and solid.

As she dug her way to the very bottom, she found a ring of solid silver. The thing was enormous—far too big for her own fingers, but heavy enough to feel like an anchor. More importantly, it fit perfectly into the palm of her hand. She stroked the smooth metal, then slipped it into her pocket.

With the ring tucked safely in her pocket, she returned downstairs. She’d already grown more comfortable in the living room than anywhere else in her living quarters.

On the sofa, she curled up into the corner and pulled a snowy blanket over her body. Before she let her eyes close, she glanced around the room. She could still spruce it up a little, bring a bit of life to the place. Some apricot and bronze paints could go a long way...

She let her eyes close, rubbing the solid ring between her fingers. And when she drifted into the dream world, she visited a man with gray eyes, his body hewn of pure muscle. Around them, a room burned and screams pierced the night air...

It seemed like only few moments had passed when Cera tapped her on the shoulder.

“Ursula.”

Ursula blinked, slowly waking. Cera peered down at her. Outside, stars still shone in the dark sky. Bloody hell, this place was disorienting. It felt like she’d only been asleep for a few moments.

She sat up, trying to clear the fog of sleep. “How long, exactly, does the night last on the moon?”

“The lunar day lasts twenty-seven Earth days. The sun won’t rise for another...” Cera looked at the clock. “The sun will rise in one hundred and eight hours.”

Ursula’s eyes widened. “It’s dark for a month at a time?”

“No, it’s only dark for half of that. For just over thirteen days, we see the sun.” She gestured at the window. “Lucky for us, the tinted glass blocks out most of the light. Anyway, you need to get dressed. The lord’s carriage leaves in thirty minutes. If you want a shower, now is the time to do it.”

“The lord’s carriage?”

“He has requested your presence. He did not explain why.” Cera thrust a silky dress at her.

Of course he didn’t. She took the dress from Cera, unfurling it. Deep indigo silk, so dark it almost look black, embroidered with fine silver stitching. This time, a delicate silver bra and panties lay on top of the fabric, plus a pair of indigo flats.

Cera turned her back. “Please hurry.”

Ursula stepped out of her clothes, then folded them neatly on the sofa. She slipped into the panties and bra, then plucked the silver ring from her dress pocket, tucking it into the front of her cleavage. “A carriage, you said?”

“Precisely. The lord awaits you. We weren’t given much warning.”

Ursula stepped into the dress, pulling it up over her hips and sliding the sheer sleeves over her shoulders. From the tops of her thighs down, the dress grew increasingly sheer, sparkling with silver thread. The wide hem gave her more freedom of movement than yesterday’s dress. The neckline plunged, giving off a view of her cleavage. Apparently, Cera was enjoying creating fashions for hellhounds with no sense modesty.

She stepped into the shoes. “It’s gorgeous.”

Cera turned, frowning. “Let me help you.” She tugged at Ursula’s hair with her fingers, twisting and forcing the waves into submission. When she’d finished, she appraised her work. One of her black eyebrows flew up. “Open your mouth.”

Ursula did as instructed, and Cera whipped out a small silver canister, spraying her mouth with a minty liquid. In the next second, Cera was slicking her lips with red gloss. “Perfect. You have everything you need.”

“There is one thing this ensemble really needs,” said Ursula.

“What?”

“A sword.”

Cera snorted. “Fat chance of that. Here, women are meant to please the eye. Not pluck them out with blades. That’s men’s work. Let’s go. The lord awaits you.”

Cera turned, hurrying into the hall. Ursula quickened her pace to keep up with Cera as she crossed the bridge, the wind whipping her auburn hair into her face.

When she crossed into the half-shattered atrium, her heart skipped a beat. A metal cage stood in the center, with a hinged door. It looked like something that belonged in a medieval torture chamber. “Um, what is this, exactly?”

Cera yanked open the door. “Don’t be afraid. On Earth, I believe you call this an elevator.”

Ursula glanced up at the thick steel chain that rose from the cage’s ceiling. “Right.” As

Cera held the door open, Ursula stepped inside. Without entering, Cera closed the door on Ursula.

“You’re not coming?” asked Ursula.

The little demon crossed the smashed tile. “No. The lord only requested your presence.”

Ursula wrapped her hands around the elevator’s bars, watching as Cera pulled a lever. A great creaking noise pierced the air, and the rattling chain slowly lifted the cage from the ground.

“Good luck!” shouted Cera from below.