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you free my ashes?” he hissed.

“He’s probably secured the lid with a bit of magic.” I glanced around the room, looking for inspiration, but found only dry old books. There had to be a way to move the ashes from the jar without being detected. Hades’ idea to leave broken glass for anyone to find would either get me killed or shove the blame on Martika. Neither of those options were acceptable.

“Put the jar in your pocket, replace the skull, and get out of here,” he said. “We’ll smash it somewhere else.”

“Wait.” I reached into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out a pinch of salt.

“What’s that going to do?”

“Kresnik’s magic has to be evil, since most of it was stolen—”

“All of it,” Hades drawled. “When we secured him to the rock, we made sure he was powerless before permitting his release. Hurry up. Someone just passed outside this room and was talking about reporting back to Kresnik for something or other.”

I nodded, wondering how he could both play lookout and whisper in my ear. He’d probably stretched himself as thin as string and was crawling about like an earthworm. I shoved away the mental image and focussed on the task at hand. After spitting on my palm, I sprinkled the salt crystals on my hand and tried once more.

This time, it hissed open, and the ashes rose from the jar. I tipped it upside-down, speeding along their progress. Since Hades didn’t complain, I guessed he found the action helpful.

“Now, show me how to get out of here,” I asked.

“That Martika girl is approaching the door,” he said. “You have thirty seconds.”

Panic punched me in the gut, making me yelp. “Couldn’t you have warned me a minute ago?”

I glanced down into the jar, checking that it was empty, and then stuffed in some of the ashes from my pocket, and replaced the lid. After shoving it back onto the shelf, I replaced the skull and dashed to the sofa. My heart galloped a frantic beat, but I clamped my mouth shut and forced slow breaths in and out of my lungs.

Moments later, a door clicked open, and Martika stepped in and ran a hand through her red hair.

I turned around, widening my eyes into an expression I hoped she would interpret as mild surprise. “Where did he go?”

“They’re going to raid Logris.” She trudged across the room, dragging her feet.

My brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

Martika raised her shoulders. “I joined this cause to make a difference. Now I’m just servicing a horny old man already trying to replace me. What are you still doing here?”

I rose from the sofa. “By the time I reached the top of the stairs there was nobody here and I couldn’t find a way out.”

She walked to one of the bookshelves, pulled down a red leather tome, and a section of the furniture clicked open.

“Thanks.” I stepped out into the hallway and caught a glimpse of a gilded portrait depicting a sun god. We were in Kenwood House, a few doors down from the room assigned to Valentine and me.

Martika stood in the doorway, staring at me as though she wanted to say something. I raised my brows, waiting for her to speak. From the way she complained earlier, she still seemed loyal to Kresnik’s ideals but upset that she wasn’t his girlfriend or getting a chance to fight under her own power. There was absolutely no way I would prompt her into saying something seditious, so she could report back to her master.

She shook her head. “See you later?”

“Yeah.” I turned on my heel and continued down the hallway, my heart pounding loud enough to echo across the walls.

When we reached the door to Valentine’s room, I paused. Martika was still standing in the doorway, staring at me as though waiting to see what I would do next. I raised a hand, waved, and stepped through Valentine’s door.

“What now?” I asked.

“Wait for it…” Moments later, Hades materialized in front of me, twice as thick as before. He rolled his shoulders and clapped his cloudy hands together. “That’s more like it.”

“You said there was another jar in the infirmary,” I said.

He smoothed down his cloudy chest, which he’d fashioned into a pair of prominent pectoral muscles. “The old healer is keeping one in her quarters.”

I leaned against the door. “Where are the others?”

“There’s one buried somewhere in the garden, but that’s easy to retrieve. Kresnik had his chef bake my ashes into clay and stuck it where he thought nobody would notice.”

My brows drew together. That seemed awfully far-fetched, but perhaps that was Kresnik’s safeguard in case anything happened to the jars. “What are we going to—”

“Worry not, Miss Griffin, I have a plan.”

“Is each jar of ashes aware of everything that’s happening around it?” I asked.

“Of course.” The edges of his cloudy form dissipated as though bristling at an insult. “Demons are eternal. By splitting my ashes, he also split my soul. I got to hear every plan he made in that room, and when you cracked the jar he gave King Valentine, it gave me the opportunity to travel around the Flame and its surroundings.”

“Right.” I nodded. “So, as soon as I release your ashes, you’ll show me where Valentine hid his heart?”

Hades wagged his finger. “When I put my ashes together and reform into a solid being, I will retrieve it for you myself.”

I nodded. “Because the heart is somewhere I can’t reach.”

He inclined his head. “Precisely.”

“Alright then, let’s go to the infirmary and see if we can’t distract Healer Calla.”

Once Hades had dissipated and spread his ashes wide enough to render himself barely visible, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Martika had either returned to Kresnik’s room or gone down to the Flame, and I continued toward the stairs, down the hallway, and descended the final set of stairs to reach the basement.

There were fewer people in the hallway, but I guess everyone had their missions.

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