and then go into hiding as well. We will find a way to meet again one day. For now, you must leave here and do not draw another prince of Hell’s attention. Do you understand? Do not trust them, any of them. We will find a way to temporarily spell the gates. You concentrate on staying hidden.”
“I can’t—”
“You will. You will because you must. Leave here before that demon returns. We will find a way to stop the prophecy, we just need some time.” Nonna cupped my face tenderly, her brown eyes watering. “Love is the most powerful magic. Above all else, remember that. It will always guide you where you need to go.” She dropped her hands and stepped back. “Now go, bambina. Go be brave. Your heart will conquer darkness. Trust in that.”
Forty-Two
I stumbled out of our house and into the street. Dawn painted streaks of red and gold across the sky. I stared up at it, trying to orient myself to my new reality. The world was the same as it had always been, but felt irrevocably changed. A prophecy foretelling disaster . . . I dragged in another breath. I couldn’t believe no one told us about it before. Knowing my very existence might signal the end of Earth’s days was kind of a big secret to keep, especially if there wasn’t much time left before the gates of Hell crashed open.
I also could not believe Nonna had taken on a prince of Hell, and won. And being Marked by Wrath . . . Everything was happening much too quickly. I could barely process it all. I glanced over my shoulder at my home, hearing the slight murmur of voices. My parents were fully awake. Thank the goddess. I rushed back up the stairs and halted, hand hovering above the knob. I wanted more than anything to go in and hug my parents, to tell them I loved them, but couldn’t. Tears stung my eyes as I hurried away. I didn’t want to leave them, but if what Nonna said about the prophecy was true, everyone would be safer without me.
I quickly walked through the streets, trying to figure out a plan. I wondered if my sister had found out about the prophecy. If she had, it explained why she thought accepting the devil’s bargain was necessary. Maybe she’d been trying to save me. Between the gates of Hell crumbling and the prophecy, the choices were dwindling on how to stop more chaos from arriving.
I walked past the marketplace, avoiding the stalls of vendors I knew, skirted the edge of the crowds, and ended up on a steep street that faced the sea.
I was thinking a lot about what Nonna said. About love being the most powerful magic. I wasn’t sure if that was true in the literal sense, but love for my twin had made me stronger. In the months following Vittoria’s murder, I’d left my comfort behind in favor of helping give her peace.
I’d summoned a demon and encountered four princes of Hell. I’d fought a giant snakelike demon, been chased and almost bitten by another, and had survived it all. I tricked information out of Greed, I learned cunning from Wrath. I didn’t know I was a fighter before all this. Now I knew I could and would do anything for the people I loved.
I reached for Vittoria’s amulet, wanting to feel connected to her. I wished she could have seen Nonna fighting off a demon prince. As my fingers clasped it, some tiny detail surfaced. I don’t know how the connection was made, but suddenly there it was.
Fennel. Nonna had used dried fennel on Envy. And it wasn’t the first time I saw fennel in connection with something related to fighting the Wicked. Wrath had pointed out that the image painted on the door to that old fisherman’s storage building had a paw holding a stalk of fennel, not wheat like I’d originally thought.
Which meant . . . My pulse raced. I thought about more stories from our childhood. I knew that symbol—it wasn’t in Vittoria’s diary and it didn’t belong to any demon prince, either. Quite the opposite. I hadn’t thought about the legends since the night in the monastery when Antonio mentioned them, but it symbolized an ancient order of shape-shifters who were said to battle evil.
Almost everyone in the Kingdom of Italy had heard stories of the mighty shape-shifters growing up. Talk eventually turned them into myths, but that