A gust of wind set the grass shivering around us. I blinked, then crossed my arms. The voice of my enemy should not be comforting.

—the shadow bubbled out of my skin and it looked up at me as it dripped down my arms—

My nails dug into my arms. “Then how did they get out?” I demanded.

“Well, you see, Prometheus loved the race of men and gave them fire against the will of Zeus.”

“And Zeus chained him to the rock and set an eagle to eat his liver every day.” I knew the story well; there had been a book with a garish picture that made Astraia squeal in horror.

“What has that got to do with the Children of Typhon?” I managed to get the name out without a quaver.

“Oh, have the Resurgandi forgotten that bit? Zeus didn’t punish him for the fire. He didn’t dare risk another war between the gods. Instead he set a trap. There were not yet any mortal women, and Zeus refused to make any, saying that future generations might rebel against the gods. He knew that Prometheus, who loved mankind more than reason, could not stand by while the race died out. And indeed, Prometheus offered to make a bet. Zeus would create a mortal woman and let her bear children, but he would also set her a test of obedience. If she failed, mankind would be cursed with misfortune and Prometheus would be chained for the eagle, but if she passed, mankind would live in blessedness forever.”

“That was a stupid bet,” I muttered.

Ignifex plucked a daisy and twirled it between his fingers. “I suppose gods as well as men become stupid when they have a chance to get everything they want.” He crushed the flower, his face for a moment ferocious.

Then he smiled easily at me. “So Zeus created Pandora, the first mortal woman, and for a dowry he gave her the jar of shadows, with the strict injunction that she must never open it. She married a mortal man and bore him children and you would think they all lived happily ever after. But Zeus had made Pandora’s face as lovely as the dawn and her soul as wandering as the wind, so it was not long before Prometheus fell in love with her and she with him. Pandora begged him to take her away from her husband, but he refused: for she would die soon in any case, and he thought it better to let her live out her days with another mortal.”

I knew what was coming and I clenched my hands, not wanting to hear the words, not wanting to show my fear.

“Pandora went lamenting her fate in the silent woods, and then out of the woods came a whisper. Perhaps it was my masters, perhaps something else equally mischievous. It said: ‘Open your jar. If you have the courage to face every evil thing that emerges, at the bottom of it you will find this hope: that you will never die, but become like Prometheus for all eternity.’ So she opened the jar—”

“Because you should always trust bodiless voices in the woods,” I muttered, nails biting into my palms as I tried not to imagine the pop of the stopper, the first whisper of song echoing from the jar’s mouth.

“—and all the Children of Typhon rushed out and began to ravage the world, inflicting sickness and death and madness on the race of men.”

I remembered the shadows bubbling out of my skin, the people screaming in Father’s study, and if that were done to the whole world at once—

“But because they had looked into Pandora’s eyes as they emerged, they were bound to her. They could be locked up again only if Pandora were cast into the jar, and as she begged for mercy, this is what Prometheus did. Then, having lost the bet, he turned himself over to Zeus, who chained him for the eagle.

“So Zeus got what he wanted: Prometheus was locked away, while the damage done by the Children of Typhon guaranteed that mankind could never flourish enough to threaten the gods. Prometheus got what he wanted: Pandora’s daughters remained behind and the race of men continued. And Pandora got what she wanted: she never died, but became exactly like Prometheus, for they were both trapped in eternal torment.”

He finished and raised his eyebrows at me, as if waiting for a reaction.

I glared back at him. My skin still twitched with leftover horror, but I was not going to give him any sort of show.

“I don’t see how that story proves your point,” I said stiffly. “If Pandora had known all the truth, she would never have opened the jar.”

And if she hadn’t been so stupid, she would never have imagined she could make her impossible wish come true. But I wasn’t about to admit that at this moment, I understood every ounce of Ignifex’s contempt for his victims.

He leaned toward me, for once with no laughter in his eyes. “She was exactly like you. She was brave enough to risk anything for what she wanted, and she knew a little too much of the truth.”

On the last words his voice grew soft and bitter. Before today, I had never seen him this serious, and it made me feel like the ground was wavering beneath me.

I leaned forward, showing my teeth. “Do you fancy yourself Prometheus, then? Will you throw me in a jar to save the world?”

“I’m the demon lord, remember?” He brushed hair out of my face, making me flinch back. “I wouldn’t kill you for half so good a reason. But you have to admit you are quite a Pandora, albeit with less selfish motives. Just last night you opened a jar of your own.”

For a heartbeat I could feel the shadows bubbling through my skin, though I sat safe in sunlight.

“Yes, and how did those demons get behind that door?” I demanded. “Or behind the sky and out into our world, if they’re all locked away with Pandora.”

“Did I say ‘all’? Zeus let one or two remain outside, to further humble the race of men.”

“One or two?”

“Or three, or four, or ten thousand. But not enough to destroy mankind, so Pandora’s doom did achieve something.”

I rubbed my arms and looked away at the horizon. “The darkness eating you last night. It was different.”

“Oh, me, I just don’t like the dark.”

“You—” I accidentally glanced at him and looked straight into his eyes. I remembered the fear in those eyes as he said, Please, and I jerked my head away, throat clenched.

“What? Do you think I almost died? I will have you know, I am not so easy to kill as that.” I was staring at the grass, but I heard him shift. “Or do you think that was the first time I ever got caught by the darkness?”

“No,” I muttered, though I had not thought about it before.

“And don’t tell me you’re sorry, because that would make you a very pitiful assassin.”