I nodded wordlessly at him, knowing that I should say something in gratitude, despite having received nothing of use. A lesson, perhaps, in understanding that I needed to unshackle myself from material possessions, from arcane foci? A lesson far too many people – even Crystal, of all people – had already tried to hammer into me.
My hand lingered on the doorknob as I left Thoth’s dimension, but I stopped at the threshold when he cleared his throat. I looked at him with a blank expression, the hope quiet, but glowing in a secret place in my chest.
“I do not withhold my tomes and grimoires to be cruel. This is something you must learn for yourself. All these long years you have trailed at your mother’s skirts, becoming the very thing she wishes you to be. Have you admitted to yourself your deeper desire to finally carve your own niche, to find your own place in this world? Not as the son of Asmodeus, not as her fist. Simply as yourself: Quilliam J. Abernathy.”
How could he know all this? How could he be so correct? It was infuriating. But I said nothing to betray my anger, only nodding back.
“Tell Bastet that I will join you all for dinner very soon. See you again shortly, princeling.”
I pulled the door shut behind me as I stepped from an oasis into the cat-filled confines of a California apartment. The warmth of the desert fell from my skin, replaced by the controlled temperature of Bastet’s living room. I turned to stare at the door. Gone was my chance to acquire any tomes of magic, even temporarily.
Gone were the endless possibilities.
25
The metal railings fencing in Bastet’s balcony were cool against my skin. I leaned there, staring out at the city, or what little of it we could see from the gods’ apartment. Not much of it, truthfully, though the night was oddly peaceful. Even the neighbors seemed to have settled in for the evening.
I sighed, my insides feeling empty in spite of a good meal. Bastet’s shakshouka was delicious, and Pierce had loaded up on enough bread to put himself into a carbohydrate-laden nap. He was dozing off on the couch, covered in a small pile of cats. Thoth did come out to join us eventually. He was polite with me, though I could tell that he was still cautious in our interactions, as if he was afraid that I would use some enchantment to convince him to cough up some of those tasty tomes.
Maybe this was how my life was meant to go, after all. At least I didn’t have to be a harbinger of destruction. The thing about a cosmic cataclysm that Mother never seemed to really consider was the very annihilation of all that could bring pleasure. The thought of having nothing but my apartments in her prime hell or the Palace of Veils to visit on holidays made my skin crawl. I liked to burn things, yes, but I didn’t much fancy the idea of the rest of the universe being incinerated into a featureless void. Oh, Asmodeus talked – at length, and often – about reshaping the world in her image. I wasn’t sure I wanted that.
I’m a creature of leisure, and to an extent, so was Pierce. We’d always talked so much about how things would be different for us once we fulfilled our commitments to Asmodeus. Of course, the reality was that it would never happen. The Prince of Lust and hopeful, eventual High Imperator of the Cosmos, or whatever she wanted to be called, would always have work for us. But we promised, all the same, to slip little indulgences between the cracks. Pierce had always wanted to see Hawaii. I wanted to as well, though mainly because of him. He could be infuriating at times, an overgrown child, but what Pierce wants, as far as I’m concerned, Pierce deserves to get.
As for me? I wanted a home, a place to call my own, far enough away from Asmodeus and her clutches. But all that was out the window now. No home in hell, and certainly no home on earth. I’d have to rebuild on my own somehow. I frowned, picking at a peeling bit of paint on the railings.
“How the hell do you even get a job?” I muttered.
“Simple,” said Crystal’s voice. “You apply for one.”
I flinched, parts of me stiffening when I realized I wasn’t alone. It always paid to keep my guard up, especially around a witch.
She placed her forearms on the railing, matching my pose, then tilted her head at me. “Of course, that’s assuming you have any qualifications.”
I groaned. “Go ahead. You can say it.”
Crystal grinned. “But as a rotten, spoiled brat who’s had every one of his needs catered to from birth, you don’t have any qualifications.”
I scowled at her, then sighed in resignation, resting my chin on my arms. “Pierce is probably more qualified than I am. He’s good at two things: fucking and fighting.” I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Can you make money that way? Are those very marketable skills?”
She laughed. “I’m sure you’ll have other options to consider besides sending your vassal out to literally do your dirty work for you.” She turned over her shoulder to where he was snoring on the couch. “And you know he’ll do it for you, too. You guys are really close. Must be nice.”
I shrugged. “He’s my brother,” I said, continuing it with the words that came each time I mentioned it. “In everything but blood.”
“So he’s very much family, in a sense.”
She rested her chin on her arms, deliberately mirroring me for reasons I couldn’t decipher. I tilted my head at her, completing the effect.
“It seems to me like you have a pretty complicated relationship with your own.”
Crystal frowned. “What makes you say that?”
“Your home. Or, you know, what used to be your home. There was just something so domestic about it.”
She bit her lip,
