A chill traveled Silas’s spine. “We came to the same conclusion. We think he’s trying to raise Panaal.”
The vampire stiffened, his body going still as marble, eyes cold, dark. “Perhaps we should take a seat and discuss this further.” He pointed his long, tapered fingers toward the chairs near the fire.
The entire situation made Silas jumpy. He turned too quickly, bumping into Grateful and accidentally dropping his glass. It shattered near his toes. He bent down to pick up the pieces, but Grateful grabbed his arm.
“Don’t bother. I’ll get it.” She took a deep breath and blew. The pieces of glass whisked off the floor, binding together and reforming in his hand. The remaining brandy poured itself back inside. When it was whole again, she took another deep breath and licked her lips. “I wouldn’t drink that.” She glanced knowingly toward the floor and shook her head. With a sigh, Silas followed her to the chairs, handing the repaired glass to Julius on the way.
“What do you know about the spell Alex might be using?” Silas sat down, crossing his arms against the less-than-magical feeling going on within his chest. It wasn’t comfortable knowing you were sitting between a vampire who could drain you dry and a witch who could blow you to bits with a whistle.
“I’ve seen this before,” Julius began, lowering into one of the antique chairs. “A thousand years ago, there was a witch…”
“A thousand years ago?” Silas chuckled, but Julius and Grateful stared at him without a hint of levity in their expressions. “Sorry. I forgot you, uh, live that long.”
“As I was saying”—Julius sipped his Scotch—“around a thousand years ago, there was a witch, a dark sorceress who wanted to raise Panaal—”
“Seems like this is a popular goal of you darky-dark types,” Silas said.
“You might believe such a thing, wolf, but in fact, only a creation of the goddess can complete the spell.”
“Huh?” Silas glanced at Grateful for an explanation, but it was Julius who gave it.
“Witches, shifters, and the light fae, in all their forms, are the goddess’s creation. Dragons and other dark fae, vampires, and demons were created by the horned god, Panaal.”
“What about ogres? Leprechauns? Trolls?” Silas asked.
“Leprechauns are a type of dark fae. The others evolved over time from mixing species.”
“Primordial bom-chicka-wow-wow. Got it.”
Julius turned to Grateful, a look of annoyance on his face as if Silas was an oversized and inconvenient dolt. Grateful refused eye contact and sipped her water.
What a pretentious asshole.Silas stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankle.
“As I was saying, Alex is only capable of completing this specific ritual because he is a werewolf. Legend has it that every supernatural being has strengths and weaknesses that were won or lost based on a game of chance between Hecate and Panaal.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t Parcheesi.” Silas laughed and shifted in his chair. Julius stared down his perfectly straight nose at him. “Just trying to lighten the mood.” He quieted, wishing he had another brandy.
“No one knows the games of the gods. It is assumed it had something to do with a labyrinth, as both Hecate and Panaal live in one. But I digress. Hecate won the game and chose to rule over the day, and Panaal received the night by default, and that is how we have existed to this day. Humans were another matter entirely. They have their own creator, their own gods. We’ve lived in balance with them based on ancient magic and natural law.”
“Sooo, I take it Panaal isn’t a fan of the status quo?” Grateful asked.
“Existing as a creature of the night is not the paradise you might think it is.” Julius stared into the fire, swirling his Scotch. “My kind would have performed the ritual centuries ago if it was possible, but the old magic doesn’t allow it. Only a creation of the goddess can undo what has been done.”
“No offense, but since you admit you are in the ‘raise Panaal’ camp, how can we trust anything you say?” Silas asked.
Julius exchanged a long, wistful look with Grateful. “If you couldn’t trust me, you’d be drained and fed to the ogres downstairs by now. No one would ever find your remains, wolf. Ogres ingest everything, even the bones.”
“Is that a threat?”
“A reality. I have made my peace with this existence of mine. There are things… people… I would hate to see come to an untimely end. Suffice it to say, I’m on your side. Although my patience wears thin with your discourtesy.”
“You were saying,” Grateful interrupted, giving Silas the side-eye. “One thousand years ago...”
“I was close to a dark witch who wanted to break the natural law. It is said that if a son or daughter of Hecate sacrifices a representative of each of the primary sons and daughters of Panaal, that Panaal will rise, all the prior rules of order will end, and the game will be played again, most likely with a much different end.”
“Why would you assume a different end?”
“Because while the original game was played by the gods, with their new creations waiting in the shadows, the book says that the new game will feature all of us playing against each other. It will be an all-out war between creatures of the night and those of the day, and humans will be our pawns in the game.”
