Portia
First Published by Ink Monster, LLC in 2015
Ink Monster, LLC
34 Chandler Place Newton, MA 02464
ISBN 9780990635246
Copyright © 2015 by Ink Monster LLC
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For Kim Stern
Contents
Chapter One
I am so late.
My heart beats at double speed while I rush down a marble staircase in the Ryder Mansion. If I were a doll, I’d be Action Librarian Barbie, The Super-Late And Extraordinarily Stressed-Out Edition. I glance at my watch and cringe. My lecture on
Magic Across The After-Realms
should’ve started twenty minutes ago.
The President of Purgatory waits for me at the bottom of the stairs. Her mouth presses into a thin frown.
“Portia, you’re finally here,” she says. “We were getting frantic.”
The President’s known for being tough on crime, corruption, and well, everything really. But she’s also my grandmother. When it comes to family, Gram’s a softie who worries like crazy.
“So sorry, Gram. I got caught up.”
Her eyes widen with alarm. “It’s your Firmament spell, isn’t it? You’ve been working on that non-stop.”
The magical Firmament is what holds the after-realms together. Void demons have been attacking it for years. My spell will show the damage. Worst case scenario? All the after-realms could fall apart. Question is, will the catastrophe hit in six months or six hundred years?
My stomach twists with dread.
My intuition tells me it’s closer to six months.
“When do you think you’ll finish the spell?” asks Gram.
“Any day now.”
“That’s excellent news. We’ll finally know if danger is imminent.” Her face beams with pride. “My brilliant grandbaby. After all the years of hard work, you must be thrilled.”
I try to muster up a smile; I can’t.
“Something else is wrong,” says Gram. “What is it?”
I try to play it cool, but I can’t stop the splotches of red that appear on my cheeks. “I was, uh, talking to someone before.”
Gram lowers her voice to a hush. “Was it a boy?”
My heart sinks.
Technically, it was a boy. In reality, it was a disaster.
Trouble is, I should be a man killer. I have all the ingredients. I’m nineteen years old, not terrible to look at, and a princess to boot. Plus, I’m part Furor dragon, which means that I should have supernatural powers over lust and wrath. But I’m the opposite of a man killer. More of a man frightener.
Gram’s features soften with concern. “Please tell me what happened, honey.” It’s the ‘honey’ that gets me, every time. “Did you really talk to a boy?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh, Portia!”
“Please try not to make it a thing. It didn’t go well.”
Gram stares at me expectantly. Her face is so open and understanding, I can’t help but spill my guts. “I’ve been having flirty conversations with this guy, Alex, who works at the dry cleaner. But it was all by phone, you know? He never saw me. And I never wrote my real name on any of the slips, so he didn’t know I was…”
“High Princess of the thrax and the granddaughter of the President of Purgatory?”
“Yeah, that.” I anxiously shift my weight from foot to foot. “Anyway, today I needed to pick up my suit for the lecture. So, I decided to go in person.” Alex looked adorable through the store window. He had blond hair, tawny brown eyes, and a sweet lion’s tail. “Once he saw me, he freaked out and ran away.” I spent an hour moping on the couch. Not my best morning.
On reflex, I brush my fingertips across the black tribal markings near my right eye. These are why Alex panicked. My marks frighten everyone. I’ve had them since birth. There’s no hiding them. No removing them. And no avoiding what they mean. One day, I’ll transform into one of the Void. A weight of sadness settles into my bones. “I should have expected it.”
Gram gently guides my hand away from my eye. “Someone cast that spell on you, am I right?”
I nod.
“Then, there must be a way to break it. We’ll never give up.” She lifts her chin defiantly. “And you’re a marvel. Only nineteen years old, and look how much you’ve learned about magic. There’s a way to break this thing and you’ll find it.”
I try to force another smile. It doesn’t happen. Normally, Gram’s pep talks work like a charm. But I’m not feeling it today. “You know me. I’ll get my head together. Alex threw me off, that’s all.”
“Oh, honey. I may be old as dirt, but I remember talking to boys. How you look? It can
feel
very important when you’re young. That’s all an illusion.” Gram sets her fist over her heart. “It’s what’s inside that counts.”
Here it comes. No one gives a better ‘be yourself’ lecture than Gram. Most days, it works great. But today, all I can picture is the terror on Alex’s face. Sure, we’d totally connected on the phone, but did that make any difference once he saw I was Marked? Not at all. “Gram, I wish people saw what’s inside. I really do.”
“Listen to me carefully, Portia. I’m a quasi-demon. Your grandfather’s an archangel. According to our DNA, we should be enemies. But when I look at him, I don’t see an archangel. I see Xavier. That’s love, and that’s what you need. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, honey. I’m saying that you’re worth it.”
Gram takes my hands. Though her fingers are slim and dainty, her touch is firm as steel. “As a matter of fact, nothing worthwhile is easy.” She gives my hands an encouraging squeeze. “But I know my grandbaby. You’re a fighter.”
I offer her a sad smile. “I can barely hold a dagger.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” She steps away and releases my hands. “Now, be honest with me. If you’re too upset for today’s lecture, you can cancel.”
I stare at the closed door. If I walk out now, I know where that path leads. More hiding out in my penthouse, reading books, and practicing spells.
Alone
. I straighten my shoulders. Some risks are worth taking. “All right, Gram. Let’s go.”
“Now, that’s my girl.”
Gram and I walk down the hallway and into the packed ballroom. My body goes on high alert. Everything seems to warp and lengthen, like I’m looking through a fun house mirror. The tall French doors seem to tower impossibly high. The crowd’s chatter echoes in odd ways. And all the faces somehow multiply by the second. I wipe my sweaty palms on my tweed skirt.
Why did I agree to this again?
If the full room makes Gram nervous, she doesn’t show it. With an effortless grace, Gram steps up to the podium and speaks into the microphone. The crowd instantly quiets.
“Good afternoon, everyone. Welcome to our monthly lecture series for diplomats…”
As Gram does her introductory stuff, I scan the space and try to dampen my rising panic. The audience includes representatives from all five lands of the after-realms. There are angels from Heaven, quasi-demons from Purgatory, and ghouls from the Dark Lands. There are even a few full-blooded demons here, although they’re all flanked by guards. And finally, there are a handful of demon-fighting thrax from Antrum. That’s my father’s side of the family.
“And now, it’s my sincere joy to introduce our guest speaker.” Gram gestures to the few thrax in the room. “Some of you already know her as Princess Portia, heir to the throne of Antrum. But I see a different side of this young woman. My granddaughter is one of the foremost experts on the different types of magic used across the after-realms.”
Gram shoots me a proud glance. I inwardly cringe. No question what’s coming next—Gram loves to talk about how smart I am. It’s not my favorite topic.
“Portia has been named to the Angelic Council for Academic Excellence,” says Gram. “She tested out of the human equivalent of high school and college at the age of thirteen. She was also awarded the Golden Pentagram for achievement in witchcraft. Portia is the only spell caster known to have mastered all forms of Level One magic.”
Gram leans in to the microphone, her brown eyes glittering with delight. She’s on a roll now. “You know, this reminds me of a story.”
Reminds her of a story? Kill me now.
“My granddaughter’s nineteenth birthday was just last month. Portia always makes a big book donation in honor of her birthday, and you know what? My granddaughter has given more than five thousand books on magic to Purgatory’s libraries. Many of them are rare editions.”
Gram shoots me a friendly half-wave. I try to grin back, but it might look like I have gas pains. The more Gram talks, the more I want to kick off my heels and run for the hills. I don’t do attention. Period.
Before I can make any real escape plans, Gram ushers me to my place at the podium. “Therefore, without further ado, I present the Princess Portia.”
Gram bows slightly and steps away. My heart thumps so hard, I feel the beat in my throat. I stare blankly into the crowd.
You can do this, Portia. You’ve been practicing your speech for ages.
“Canopic jars,” I say in a full voice. “Does anyone know how they work?”
Evidently no one knows, as the room stays deadly quiet. My skin prickles with anxiety. This is not going well.
Thankfully, all my rehearsing pays off. My mouth starts moving on its own, following the familiar course of my presentation.
“Canopic jars were used by humans in ancient Egypt. We use them in the after-realms, too.” I lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Only unlike humans, we don’t fill the jars with body parts.”
A few chuckles echo through the crowd. My confidence rises. “Canopic jars are best used as a supernatural batteries. Energy goes in and gets doled out slowly over time. The Firmament uses this principle, too.” Some confused looks appear in the audience. I frown.
Oops, I may have lost them there.
“How many of you are familiar with how the Firmament works?”
A few people raise their hands. Most look even more confused. “The Firmament is an invisible magic network that holds the after-realms together. At the heart of this system, there are four Sacred Trees.” I pick up the glass of water sitting atop my podium. “Think of this as a Sacred Tree. The water inside is Firmament magic. It slowly evaporates over time, feeding the roots and branches that connect all the after-realms.”
I scan the audience. The confused looks have disappeared. My confidence soars. With that, I launch into a detailed explanation of the magical underpinnings of the after-realms. The more I talk, the easier it gets. After a while, it’s hard to tell how much time’s gone by. I don’t really mind, though. Now, I’m the one who’s on a roll.
