AI Aurora gripped the Heartstone Pendant tighter, its faint warmth pulsing against her palm like a second heartbeat. The rift had spat them out into something that definitely wasn't Richmond Park anymore.
"Keep close," she whispered, scanning the amber-hued horizon. "Nyx, any idea what this place feeds on?"
"Gluttony," the Shade replied, their voice a whisper carried on a dry wind that smelled of overripe fruit and roasted meat. "Dymas. Belphegor's domain. Your little trinket led us straight into the lion's gullet, Rory."
Isolde glided ahead of them, her silver hair trailing like moonlight on water. Her bare feet left no prints on the strange, spongy ground. "The lion digests what it cannot name," she murmured, her pale lavender eyes fixed on a distant vineyard that stretched toward a sky the colour of molten honey. "Names have power here. Best leave yours at the threshold."
The air tasted too sweet, cloying on Aurora's tongue. Every breath felt like she'd swallowed a spoonful of treacle. She adjusted the Fae-forged blade at her hip, its moonsilver chill seeping through her clothes and grounding her. The small crescent scar on her wrist itched, a childhood memory stirring unbidden, of falling from a tree and learning that some wounds never quite faded.
They pressed forward. The path, if one could call the undulating trail between bursting fruit trees a path, seemed to shift beneath their feet. Grapes the size of apples hung heavy from vines that writhed like living things, their skins splitting to reveal glistening flesh that pulsed faintly. Aurora's stomach rumbled despite the unease crawling up her spine.
"Hungry already?" Nyx materialised beside her, their shadowy form flickering between solid and incorporeal. In their more defined state, they towered over her, violet eyes glowing like distant stars. "Careful. The first bite here binds you tighter than any chain."
"I'm not touching anything." Aurora pushed a low-hanging branch aside. Sap oozed from the break, golden and fragrant, smelling of cinnamon and smoked bacon. Her mouth watered. She swallowed hard. "How do we find the portal out? This wasn't supposed to be a sightseeing trip."
Isolde paused by a cluster of standing stones, though these bore no resemblance to the ancient oaks that marked her grove. These stones gleamed like polished bone, carved with symbols that twisted when Aurora tried to focus on them. "The way forward lies through indulgence," the half-Fae said, tracing one carving with a finger that left no mark. "Or so the courts once whispered. But whispers lie when they serve the speaker."
A low moan rose from deeper within the orchard, not quite human, not quite anything Aurora recognised . It vibrated through her bones, stirring something primal that made her want to run toward it and away from it at the same time.
Nyx dissolved into shadow, reappearing ten paces ahead. "Company. Three hellbound souls, by the look of them. Chefs, if the cleavers mean anything."
Aurora drew the Fae blade. The dagger hummed in her grip, its leaf-shaped blade catching the amber light and reflecting it back colder, sharper. She moved to join Nyx, Isolde floating silently behind. The ground grew softer here, almost fleshy, and she fought the urge to gag as her boots sank slightly with each step.
The figures emerged from between two gnarled trees heavy with fruit that resembled roasted joints of meat. They wore stained aprons that might once have been white. Knives and ladles dangled from their belts, and their eyes, sunken and fever-bright, fixed on the intruders with something between hunger and terror .
"Fresh ingredients," one croaked, his voice thick with phlegm and want . "The prince will reward us well for new stock."
"Stock for what?" Aurora demanded, keeping the blade raised. The Heartstone Pendant burned hotter against her chest now, its crimson glow visible even through her jacket.
The second chef, a woman with cheeks bloated like overfed ticks, licked her lips. "For the feast, of course. The endless feast. You look... tender. Young. The marrow will make fine stock."
Nyx swirled between them, a living barrier of darkness. "Touch her and I'll peel your souls like grapes."
Isolde stepped forward, her presence somehow quieting the violent tension . "We seek passage, not platters. The Veil thins here. Show us the rift and perhaps we leave your larder untouched."
The third chef, younger than the others but already sporting the same distended belly, clutched his cleaver tighter. "Can't leave. Tried. The prince's table stretches forever. One bite. That's all it takes. Then you're part of the menu or the clientele. No difference really ."
Aurora's gaze drifted past them. Through the twisted branches, she spotted structures in the distance, grand halls built from what looked like sugar glass and bone china . Flags bearing Belphegor's sigil, a stylised mouth devouring a star, snapped in the sweet wind. The moan sounded again, louder, and she realised it came from those halls. A sound of pleasure and pain intertwined so tightly they became the same thing.
Her free hand found Nyx's solid form, the touch of living shadow both freezing and burning. "We need to move. This place... it's getting inside my head. I can taste things I haven't eaten in years. My mother's Sunday roast. The chips from that dodgy van in Cardiff."
"That's how it starts," the female chef said, her voice dropping to something almost sympathetic . "Memory flavours. Then comes the craving. Then the binding."
Isolde tilted her head, listening to something only she could hear. "The stones speak of a garden deeper in. Where the first tree grows. Its fruit contains seeds of escape, though the price tastes bitter on the tongue."
"Everything here tastes bitter eventually," Nyx observed, their form rippling . "Even the sweet."
Aurora sheathed the blade but kept her hand near it. "Lead the way then. But if anyone offers me so much as a grape, I expect you to knock it out of my hand. Understood?"
The chefs watched them go, their expressions a mixture of pity and envy that made Aurora's skin crawl. She quickened her pace, following Isolde toward a break in the orchard where the trees gave way to something far stranger.
Here the ground rose in soft hills that breathed. Literally breathed, expanding and contracting beneath their feet like the flank of some enormous beast. Flowers grew in impossible colours, their petals opening and closing in rhythm with the hills. Each bloom released puffs of scent, individual notes in a symphony of aroma. Aurora caught whiffs of dark chocolate, fresh bread, blood, and something metallic that reminded her of Evan's breath after a particularly violent night.
She shook her head hard. "Focus."
Nyx glanced at her, violet eyes narrowing. "Your heart rate's climbing. The pendant's practically singing now. Whatever portal brought us here, it's close."
"Close and guarded," Isolde said. She stopped at the crest of a particularly large hill, her silver hair stirring in a breeze that carried the sound of laughter and screams. "Look."
Below them spread a vast garden unlike anything Aurora had seen on Earth. Trees with trunks of twisted silver grew in perfect rows, their branches heavy with fruit that shone like jewels. At the centre stood one tree larger than the rest, its bark black as midnight, its leaves the colour of fresh bruises. Golden fruits hung from its boughs, each one pulsing with inner light.
"The heart of Dymas," Isolde whispered. "The tree feeds the prince's endless hunger. One taste and you never leave. But the seeds within..."
"Price," Nyx finished, their whisper turning harsh . "Everything here has one."
Aurora started down the slope, boots sliding on the living ground. The air grew thicker, sweeter, until she felt she could chew it. Her scar burned now, a sharp counterpoint to the pendant's warmth . Memories flooded her unbidden, her father's courtroom voice, her mother's disappointed sigh when she'd announced she was dropping out of Pre-Law, Eva's desperate call that had sent her running to London.
"Stop," she gasped, clutching her head .
Isolde appeared beside her instantly. "The tree knows your name, Aurora Carter. It whispers it on every breeze. Give it nothing."
Nyx solidified completely , wrapping shadowy arms around her shoulders. The contact helped, the Shade's otherworldly chill cutting through the cloying sweetness. "Breathe through your mouth. Don't smell the fruits. We're nearly at the portal. I can feel the Veil tearing nearby."
They reached the base of the great tree. Its roots spread across the ground like veins, and where they intersected, the air shimmered , the distortion visible even to Aurora's human eyes. The Heartstone Pendant blazed hot enough to hurt now, its crimson light cutting through the amber atmosphere like a laser.
"Here," Isolde said, pressing her palm against one of the roots. Nothing happened. She frowned, an expression so rare on her ethereal features that it sent a jolt of fear through Aurora. "The tree demands tribute."
"What kind?" Aurora asked, already knowing she wouldn't like the answer.
"A memory. A true one. The kind that shapes who you are." Isolde's voice carried an edge of something like sorrow . "The tree will take it and in exchange, grant passage. But what it takes, you can never truly have back."
Nyx drifted closer to the shimmering rift. "I have no memories it would want. Shades don't remember being human all that clearly. I'll go first. Test the waters."
Before Aurora could protest, Nyx stepped into the distortion. Their form flickered violently, violet eyes flashing bright, and then they vanished with a sound like a wet kiss.
Isolde turned to Aurora. "Your turn, child of Cardiff. Choose your memory carefully . Some bites cannot be spat out."
Aurora stared at the tree. One of the golden fruits had dropped to the ground near her feet. It split open of its own accord, revealing seeds that looked like tiny screaming faces . The smell hit her like a physical blow, memories of every comfort she'd ever known, every safety, every love. Her wrist scar throbbed in time with the pendant.
She drew the Fae blade again, its cold weight reassuring. "I won't feed this thing my past."
The tree rustled though there was no wind. A branch lowered, offering a single fruit directly in front of her face. The skin glistened invitingly.
Isolde's hand touched her shoulder. "Then offer it something else. Something it craves more than memory."
Aurora looked at the blade, then at the pendant. The crimson gem pulsed faster, almost eagerly . She wrapped the silver chain around her fist and pressed the Heartstone against the tree's bark.
The effect was immediate.
The entire garden convulsed. Fruits burst overhead, showering them in sticky sweetness. The ground bucked, nearly throwing Aurora off her feet. The rift widened with a sound like tearing silk , revealing glimpses of what might have been her flat above Silas' bar, or perhaps something far worse.
Isolde's eyes widened . "Clever. The stone carries Belphegor's own essence. A debt unpaid. The tree recognises its master's mark."
Something massive moved beneath the ground. The hills rose and fell more violently. In the distance, the grand halls of sugar and bone began to crack.
"We've got its attention," Aurora said, gripping the blade tighter. "Time to run."
They sprinted for the widened rift. Behind them, the great tree uprooted itself with a sound like a thousand throats screaming in ecstasy. Its roots lashed out, seeking, hungry. One brushed Aurora's leg and she felt a pull, a terrible yearning to stop, to taste, to stay.
Isolde grabbed her wrist, right over the crescent scar, and yanked her forward. "Names have power here," the half-Fae gasped. "Speak yours. Claim it back from this place."
"Aurora Carter," she shouted as they reached the rift's edge. The words tasted like freedom and terror mixed together. "Not your bloody feast!"
The tree roared. Its branches whipped toward them, golden fruits exploding into sprays of juice that burned where they touched skin. Nyx reappeared in the rift, shadowy hands reaching through.
"Jump!"
Aurora leapt, Isolde beside her. For one impossible moment she hung between realms, Dymas's amber sky above and the cold familiarity of Earth somewhere below. The Fae blade sang in her grip. The Heartstone Pendant flared so bright it blinded her.
Then the rift swallowed them whole.
She landed hard on damp grass that smelled of normal rain and London pollution. Richmond Park. Real Richmond Park. The ancient oak standing stones loomed overhead, marking the boundary of Isolde's grove. Morning light, actual morning light, not that perpetual amber glow, filtered through normal leaves.
Nyx coalesced beside her, looking more solid than usual. "That was entertaining. Next time perhaps we avoid following glowing rocks into Hel without a map."
Isolde stood a little way off, her bare feet now leaving faint prints in the dew-kissed grass. She stared back at the spot where the rift had been, now just empty air.
"It follows," she said softly . "The tree marked you, Aurora. Its hunger has your scent now."
Aurora pushed herself up, brushing sticky residue from her clothes. The pendant had gone cold and dark against her chest. She touched her wrist, the scar there feeling somehow deeper, more significant.
Before she could respond, the air shimmered again. A single golden fruit rolled out of nothingness and stopped at her feet. It split open slowly , seeds writhing like tiny maggots.
The tree's voice, or perhaps Belphegor's, whispered on a breeze that shouldn't have existed in the grove.
"More."
Aurora crushed the fruit beneath her boot, its juice staining the grass an unnatural gold. Her grip tightened on the Fae-forged blade until her knuckles whitened.
"Looks like we've got ourselves a dinner invitation we can't refuse," she said, meeting Nyx's glowing violet gaze. "Question is, who ends up on the menu?"