I accepted his arm and we made our way out of the looming set of double doors.
Outside, our conveyance sat waiting, bits of snow sticking to the roof like powdered sugar. Wrath’s carriage was darker than the night with flecks of gold in the lacquered finish. There was no driver waiting, only horses.
“Will you be driving the carriage?”
“No. My power will guide it.”
“Transvenio magic is rude, but steering a carriage with magic is not?” I shook my head. “I may live a thousand years and will never understand these ridiculous demon rules.”
The four ebony steeds snuffed the air, their red eyes the only mark that they were not quite the same as horses in the mortal world. Wrath set about checking their bridles, tsking a little when one of the hell horses nibbled at him.
I drew in a quick breath. I’d been wrong. Their eyes weren’t the only thing that marked them as different. Their gleaming, metal teeth indicated they were more predator than simple equine. The hell horse nipped again, more insistently.
“Gentle, Death.”
“Goddess give me strength.” I eyed the three other beasts. “Famine, Pestilence, and War, I presume.” Wrath’s grin was confirmation enough as he glanced over his shoulder. “I cannot believe you named them after the four horsemen, and yet I’m not terribly surprised.”
He strolled over to where I waited, then handed me up into the carriage. “Perhaps they aren’t merely named after them.”
Wrath settled onto the plush velvet bench seat across from me, his expression smug as I let that information sink in. With a quick rap on the ceiling, we were off.
The wheels clattered across the stone, but the sound and jarring feeling was muffled by the well-stuffed seating and plush, layered carpets. I’d never ridden inside such an opulent conveyance. I’d never ridden in a shabby one, either. Before my ride with the emissary, the closest I’d ever come to traveling via carriage was a horse-drawn buggy.
I drew my brows together. That couldn’t be correct… after disembarking from a ship, we had to travel by carriage to visit Nonna’s friend in northern Italy. Except I couldn’t quite remember how we’d gotten there.
Wrath studied me. “You appear as if you’re in the midst of a vexing riddle.”
I lifted a shoulder. “I suppose it’s mostly nerves.”
“About the fear portion of the festival?”
“The fear, the whole ordeal. Meeting the rest of your brothers. Dancing.”
He was silent for a while. I doubted he’d expected such honesty and was unsure of how to proceed. Finally, he shifted forward. “No harm will befall you. I will not allow it.”
“Perhaps it’s your brothers you should be concerned for.”
“If they are stupid enough to ignite your fury, they deserve to feel the burn.”
I smiled at him. “And yet you still toss matches onto the kerosene all the time.”
“Wrath and fury are my sins of choice. I like your temper.”
After an indeterminate amount of time of descending and ascending a few mountain peaks, our carriage abruptly came to a halt. Wrath peered outside, his expression once again carefully set into that cold, unforgiving mask.
“We’re here.” He reached for the handle, then paused. His muscles were tense beneath his well-tailored suit. He shook his head once, then looked at me. “Should you find yourself in need of a partner, I will dance with you.”
Before I could react, he shoved the door open and exited the carriage. His hand appeared from the shadows, waiting for mine. I gave myself a moment to gather my emotions. I hadn’t lied to Wrath about the cause of my nerves, but I hadn’t expressed all of the reasons behind my pounding heart. I would now have an opportunity to speak with every demon prince of Hell. And one of them, quite possibly, had orchestrated my sister’s murder.
Much would either be gained or lost over the next few days. And, if my sister’s murderer was here, there was no telling if he’d try to rip my heart from my chest, too.
If I was about to enter into a battle for my life, at least I had Wrath at my side.
His fingers tightened on mine as I stepped from the carriage and took in House Gluttony. It was massive, if unusual in design. A cross between open Roman terraces with tall arched windows and medieval towers. It was built into the side of a steep mountaintop and looked like something out of a gothic fairy tale.
“Prepare yourself.” Wrath escorted me up a small flight of stairs and stopped just outside the castle’s grand entrance. “My brother’s debauchery knows no limits.”