Maybe it was the simmering rage I’d tried smothering after my encounter with Wrath, or the sight of my loved ones huddled on the floor in our own home, or pure recklessness, but I’d had it. I marched over and smacked Envy’s boots off our island. “Show a little respect, your highness. This might be how you treat things in your hellhole, but this is our home.”

Envy’s blade was at my throat before I had time to blink. “You asked Wrath about the soul, didn’t you? I imagine you didn’t like what he had to say.” He pressed the dagger a little harder. I felt a slight prick as it pierced my skin. I held still, not daring to breathe. “Do not take your own wrath out on me, or I will turn this blade loose on your grandmother. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as watching a witch bleed. Especially one who—”

“Silentium.”

The spell rang through the room as if Envy’s words had been cut off with the swish of a knife. Nonna rose up from the ground, a faint purple glow surrounding her. I couldn’t believe it. She’d forced the demon prince into silence. She clutched her cornicello and began chanting a spell I’d never heard. I stared, unblinking, as her voice grew stronger. I didn’t know she’d healed. The demons didn’t seem to realize it, either, an error they were about to pay for. Nonna drew an image in the space before her, and a glowing, unearthly cimaruta charm appeared there.

I was so stunned by her show of power, I didn’t notice the glittering black portal forming behind Envy. My mouth opened in shock. Holy goddess above . . .

The purple light surrounding Nonna ended in tips of silver now. Envy, for the first time, looked worried. He took a small step backward, eyes flashing toward his demons, but Nonna yanked a handful of dried fennel from her skirt pocket and whispered an enchantment that locked his feet in place.

A flick of her wrist and black thread spooled into the air before the prince of Hell, then slithered toward his feet like serpents. The other two demons moved toward Envy, only to be driven back by black shadows spun from the spell. I could barely hear over the pounding of my heart when I saw what my grandmother had done. She’d magically sewn his feet to the floor. Now he couldn’t speak, or move. His eyes widened enough to show the whites.

Nonna returned to her spell. “A key to lock, a moon to guide.”

My attention flew back to the magical image of a rue branch as each of the five stalks began shifting and stretching into different shapes. A key and a full moon formed at the end of two branches. I suddenly knew exactly what Nonna was doing. She caught my eye.

“Now, Emilia!”