Cato faded behind a shelf, and I stood there in disbelief. When the soft thumps of his feet also vanished, I plunked down at the table where Oliver and I had left our reading material. Before I so much as touched the cover of a book, Cato appeared out of nowhere and dropped two books onto the table, startling me.
“I think you need to wear a bell,” I muttered.
“Or you need to be more observant.”
I frowned at the titles:The Doors of MoiraiandThe King of Hell.
“I wanted straight answers, not—” Cato was no longer there. “Books.” I sighed. So much for the all-knowing encyclopedia being helpful.
I tilted my head to the glass ceiling. The dark sky, empty of twinkling lights, added to the sorrow and guilt lingering in my throat.
Was Earth the only place with stars?
I didn’t know why I wanted to see them so badly—why the glittering of flaming gas soothed something inside my dreaming soul. Maybe their light gave me hope, or perhaps they reminded me of the nights with my mom, staring into the sky and making wishes.
Pursing my lips, I readied myself for another long night of reading and opened the book on the doors. The first page displayed a curving script and dedication:
To the reigningKing of Hell.
I turnedto the next page and was happy to find my answer.
The Doors of Moirai,otherwise known as the Doors of Fate, were created the day Heaven decided it needed a counterpart—Hell. Housed inside the doors are the powers of three: the Spinner, Allotter, and Unturning. The things that were, the things that are, the things that may be.
When Heaven chose Lucifer as the ruler to reign over the dimension of Hell and all the souls who’d end up there, the doors followed—connected to the king. For only the king could judge the souls of the dead, and judge them fully.
With the Doors of Moirai, the past, present, and future are presented to the reigning ruler upon Judgment Day. They do not need to look upon the doors to know and see. But the past shows the sin, the present shows the growth or lack thereof, and the ever-changing future shows the consequences. Judgment can’t be placed solely on a future that could change. The majority of judgment must come from the things that were and the things that are.
So the doorsshowed the past, present, and potential future. But why couldIsee the images? Because I was the daughter of Hell, or for another reason?
Tonight, I saw a moment of my past.
But what about the other day with Oliver and the general?
It looked like a demon biting a female. And not just any female—someone from Hell’s military. But that didn’t make sense. The general had said there were no demons here unless it was a half-breed.
So, a half-breed demon had either bitten, was currently biting, or was going to bite someone in Hell’s military. But why did it matter? Why show me this? Was it intentional, or some twisted happenstance?
My head fell against the book as I groaned.
“You’re not going to find your answers that way.”
I shifted my head to the side, glaring at the Throne who definitely needed a damned bell. “Is there anything you can tell me about the doors?”
“No,” he replied, ignoring my glare. “But if you’d read the book, you’d know who to ask.”
He meant the king. And he was right. It clearly stated that the King of Hell and the doors were connected. I was just hoping theall-knowingThrone would tell me what I wanted to know, and I wouldn’t have to resort to the king.
I fiddled with the book’s page, dreading how that conversation would go. My stomach twisted thinking about it. So far, every conversation with him had been miserable. It always came back to how naïve I was, like some unavoidable label.
But why should that surpriseme?
He wasn’t much different from when he’d spoken in my mind in Elora. Back then, he called me naïve, and I hadn’t exactly been reading any books since my mutilation or recovery. I sank lower in my chair.
I couldn’t avoid talking to him—he’d be training me to control my powers, after all.
“Rest assured, the king is nothing like Michael,” Cato said, as if reading my mind—or, more likely, my nervous fidgeting and the scowl on my face.
I turned toward the Throne. “So he’s not a self-serving bastard who gambles with his daughter’s life?”
