I force myself to look away and my eyes settle on the carvings of the nearest door. A W is embossed into the metal along with the picture of a fierce lionlike creature. I walk to the next door. This one is marked E for Envy. An image of a snake curls its way around the letters.
I’m about to move on when something glinting on the ground catches my eye. I crouch down and brush away the rubble to expose a dirty mirror. There’s an M engraved in the center.
“Cupid,” I call. “The girl in the Venus’s prison—Medusa. I saw a snake in her cell.”
He looks up from the door he’s examining and nods. “Yes, she always has snakes. They’re kind of her trademark.”
Pandora looks my way as Cupid comes over. “What is it?” she asks.
Cupid inspects the mirror on the ground, then the snakes on the door. He grins. “Medusa’s Sim must be close. The way out of here will be through this door.”
Pandora looks unconvinced. “If you’re wrong, we’ll be faced with Envy in there. We’ll kill each other.” She pauses. “Well . . . I’ll kill you.”
A hissing sound suddenly echoes from the hatch behind us, which has started to move once again.
“Shall we take our chances?” Cupid suggests.
She sighs then nods, resigned. Cupid opens the door and we hurry through, slamming it shut behind us just as something large and horrible—with the head of a lion and scaly skin—bursts into the arena. With a wave of relief I look around. We’re back in the labyrinth, its high concrete walls leading to a junction just ahead. The faint sound of carnival music hums in the air. I hear Pandora’s intake of breath beside me.
“It really was the exit.”
“Good to be out of there?”
“You have no idea,” she says, her eyes drinking in the black sky above us.
We walk to the junction, where, to the right, the labyrinth walls have been replaced by a network of abandoned carts, tents, and fairground rides. Far in the distance are eerie red and white lights. Along the path to the left, the labyrinth darkens ominously. I shudder as I notice a substance on the wall that looks suspiciously like blood, dark and shiny.
“You see that building glinting in the distance? Through the carnival?” Cupid says, pointing right. “That’s a house of mirrors. Medusa has the power to turn people to stone at will with just a glance. She won’t be able to control her powers in here. One look in a mirror and she’ll turn herself into stone.” He looks meaningfully at Pandora. “She’ll be there.”
“I agree. You want me to retrieve her?”
Cupid nods. “Then tell her to find the next Sim and get to the center of the labyrinth—that’s where the exit lays.”
Pandora turns without another word and makes her way through the desolate carnival. I look up at Cupid. “What now?”
“While the others recruit the rest of the Myths, we’re going to get to the center of the labyrinth and face the worst Myth of them all,” he says. “We’re going to face the Minotaur.”
55
We walk down the left-hand path, away from the eerie sound of carnival music and into the darkness. The air is cold and silent, and as we progress, a thin layer of fog begins to conceal the landscape. I squint as I try to pick out the distorted shapes of derelict buildings. A large, domed cathedral looms beside us, and somewhere in the distance I hear the hollow chimes of a clock tower. An industrial scent lurks within the icy breeze: like smoke and blood and iron.
Something about the place seems both familiar and wrong, but I can’t figure out what it is. I shiver and rub my arms to fight against the cold.
“How do you know the center of the maze is this way?” I ask.
“The blood.”
I follow Cupid’s gaze and notice rivulets of deep crimson running through the cobbled stones.
He smiles grimly. “Where the blood runs, the Minotaur will be.”
I suppress a shudder as we follow a red stain along the side of an old, abandoned pub. Somewhere above us, a weird mechanical sound is jarring against the silence. Although I search, I can see nothing through the layer of thick mist.
“What is this place?”
Cupid looks at me. The mist clings to his face and gives him an almost ethereal look.
“I’d say we’re in the Minotaur’s version of Victorian London. Things are in the wrong place, and he’s not quite remembered it right—but it fits. He spent some time in London before he was captured.”
I nod as I recall Crystal’s account in The Records of the Finis. He was in London when she retrieved the golden arrow from him.
“I thought she let him go,” I say. “Crystal, I mean. Why did the Matchmaking Service capture him? That would have been after Venus’s time.”
Cupid’s hands go to the arrows hung over his bare shoulder. “Did I mention the Minotaur might not be too pleased to see us?”
“No. You must have forgotten to mention that.”
He gives a half smile then shrugs. “It was after my time at the Matchmaking Service. We need him on our side to take down Venus, but he’s a killer, Lila. A lot of the Myths are. A lot of them were put in here because they were too dangerous to be a part of the outside world.”
As we follow the trail of blood down a dark alleyway, I hear that mechanical sound again coming from somewhere ahead. Cupid apparently hears it, too, and stops still in his tracks.
“That and the fact that the Minotaur had a surveillance system to rival ours.”
He suddenly pushes me against the wall, his tensed body pressed against mine. He places a large hand over my mouth then gestures that I look up. Slowly, I do so.
Above us, jutting out from the wall, is a small camera. I hear the mechanical sound again as it moves, its lens surveying the surroundings.
“He’s watching,” I whisper. “Does he know we’re here?”
Cupid looks up at the camera again, and then down into my eyes. “Most certainly. Come on.”
He pushes away from the wall and continues to walk onward. I fall into step beside him as we navigate the labyrinth of narrow, bloodstained streets. As we progress, the mechanical sounds follow us. There can be no doubt about it: he’s watching us.
Soon we reach a vast iron bridge, on the other side of which rests a crumbling palace. Dull white, it has rows of blackened windows that peer out like hollowed eyes. On the roof, rippling in the icy breeze, is a red flag with the letter M in its center.
“Welcome to the Minotaur’s Buckingham Palace,” says Cupid.
“I’m guessing the queen isn’t home.”
The air around us smells metallic. I warily approach the railings of the bridge only to find myself awash in nausea; below, in place of the Thames, is a rushing river of blood. Cupid pulls me away and steadies me.
“I thought the Myths were in here to be tormented,” I say. “Pandora was stuck fighting the sins, Medusa trapped in a house of mirrors—this is different.” I stare at the palace ahead. “It’s like he can control the simulation. Like he’s made it how he wants it to be.”
Cupid nods. “Everywhere the Minotaur went, humans would begin to build his labyrinth. He has more than just physical power—his mind is strong too. The Sim wouldn’t have been able to fool him, which is why we are faced with a difficult task. And why he concerns me the most.” He looks at me through the fog. “If he could have escaped at any time, why didn’t he? What is he waiting for?”
Together we walk over the bridge. Slumped by the tall, iron gates to the palace are two dead soldiers in red uniforms and tall, black bearskin hats. Arrows jut from their chests. Cupid examines one of the bodies.
“Crystal’s been here.”
He pushes against the gates, and the rusty metal screeches against the cobbled ground of the courtyard. We walk purposefully toward the grand entrance, where the heavy door gives way to a musty entrance hall. A stone staircase
covered in rich red carpet leads to a mezzanine, and around us the walls are covered with monitors. They each depict areas of the labyrinth we’ve just wandered through.
Some show the distorted London streets, but some show other areas. My eyes wander toward one, and I see Pandora and a dark-haired European girl in a blindfold making their way through the carnival.
Suddenly all the monitors flicker off. When they click back on, the image on each is identical; it’s Cupid kissing me on the floor of the Lust room in Pandora’s Sim. Heat rushes to my face as I see myself passionately kissing him back while he runs his hands through my hair.
“Yes, you’ve made your point,” Cupid calls out to the grand room. “You’ve been watching us.”
The moving image loops around once more, and I feel momentarily grateful that Cupid avoids commenting on our performance. Then the screens flicker off and a tinny crackle comes from above.
“Please, come through to the great hall,” a deep British voice says from a speaker in the corner of the space. “Head down the corridor on the right. We’d be delighted for you to join us.”
I share a look with Cupid as we make our way down the decaying corridor.
“Am I a good kisser?” he asks. “It looks like I’m a good kisser—from the film, I mean.”
So much for not commenting. “Now is not the time, Cupid.”
He smirks as we enter a grandly decorated hall. It has been set up like a ballroom, with circular tables arranged so as to leave space for dancing in the center. Stone steps lead to an arched front entrance. On it, in unnerving contrast to the gold-plated candelabras and old-fashioned tapestries, is a modern exit sign in luminescent green.
The way out.
In the center of the hall, Crystal is locked in silent battle with a tall man, an arrow gripped in her hand. Her face is set with resolve and her eyes gleam furiously. The male is grinning wickedly. He’s wearing a white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves with the top buttons undone; it exposes a sleeve of tattoos on one of his arms—an assortment of black lines and shapes that create their own labyrinth of ink. There’s a vicious scar over his left eye.
The Minotaur.
“Cupid, Lila,” he says, his voice silky smooth as he slides his gaze toward us. “Welcome.”
Cupid walks forward. “Hope we’re not interrupting anything.”
The Minotaur shakes his head. “Not at all, not at all. Crystal and I are just resolving a bit of unfinished business.”
He looks at us, a charming smile on his face.
“You asked out there what I was waiting for. It’s true I can leave whenever I wish, but you see, I’ve grown to quite like it in here—it keeps me out of trouble. And you’re right, I have been waiting. I’ve been waiting for Crystal.”
56
“He wants me to come live with him in his little fantasy world,” Crystal says, rolling her eyes. “But it’s not happening.” She turns back to the Minotaur. “Sorry, love, but there are things up there in the real world that require my immediate attention. Things that we could use your help addressing.”
With that, she grabs my arm and leads me up the steps to stand by the exit.
“Now, are you two coming or what?”
Before either of the men can reply, Crystal pulls me through the doorway.
My eyes fly open.
I’m back in the claustrophobic cell, my knees touching the rotting wooden door. I feel dizzy. My skin is damp and Cal’s hooded sweater is still wrapped around my body. There’s a cold buzzing in my ear, and I hurriedly pull out the small microchip that sent me into the Sim.
I’d expected Venus’s dungeons to be alive with the sounds of Myths waking up, but it is as silent as before. I look through the small barred window to find Cal sitting rigidly on a wooden stool, watching me.
Then the door to my right bursts open and Crystal walks out of her cell. Her hair is matted and her white suit is stained a murky brown.
Cupid’s face appears at the other side of the barred window next. He opens my cell door, and when he holds his hand out for me, I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. As we stand almost nose to nose, his eyes blaze into mine. For a moment we are caught in each other’s gaze, somewhere far away from the murky dungeon and impending danger.
“Have any of the Myths woken up yet?” Crystal asks, jolting me back to reality.
“Charlie and Selena are awake. The others are starting to show signs. It may take them a little longer. They’ve been in their Sims for years.”
I feel a wave of relief that Charlie is okay.
“Listen,” Cal says, looking worried. “Cupids have started to arrive from the other branches. Venus has called them all here for the big trial. There’ll be more to fight than I had hoped.”
Cupid frowns. “Have you managed to get any on our side?”
“A few but not many. They’re too afraid to go against Venus.” Nervousness flickers across his pale face. “Look, that’s not the worst thing,” he says. “The trial . . . She wanted to get to it right away. The Commander will be coming for you any minute now.”
I feel my stomach plummet. I thought we’d have more time to prepare.
“The Myths aren’t even awake yet,” Cupid groans.
Crystal looks concerned too. “I thought we’d have more time. Listen, Cal, there’s something I should tell you.”
Suddenly Cal shushes us. We stand in silence a moment, and then I understand. All around us come the sounds of rustling and murmuring—quietly at first but then with increasing vigor. Down the dark corridors, doors creak open. There is laughter close by. I hear the breaking of rotting wood and footsteps against the muddy ground.
Cupid’s face suddenly brightens.
“Looks like our army is arriving.”
57
Shadowy figures emerge from their small cells on both sides. In a few moments’ time the group of prisoners have surrounded us.
Charlie is near the front, and I catch her eye. She looks exhausted but grins when she sees me. I can’t help but wonder what she would have experienced in her version of the Sim.
Selena stands beside her, looking irritable, and I notice Medusa among the group as well. She is no longer blindfolded—she must be able to control her power outside of the Sim—and I see that her eyes are an unnatural glassy blue that stands out against her tanned complexion. A black snake curls around her right arm.
Others in the crowd greet each other like old friends. A blond guy is chatting animatedly with a group of disheveled gladiators, and Pandora talks warily to a pair of wolfish teenagers. Leaning against the wall by the back, the Minotaur watches Crystal, a half smile playing about his lips.
Cupid looks around. “I guess you are all now aware of our . . . little predicament.”
The Minotaur’s gaze slides to Cupid. “Your mother is back in town and you’re inviting us to the reunion,” he drawls. “How kind. Do you have any plan beyond that?”
Cupid shoots Cal a sideways look. “Er, Brother?”
“The trial is due to start any minute now,” Cal says. “We allow it to proceed as planned.”
“Are you kidding me?” Crystal exclaims. “I’m not—”
Cal fires her a cold look. “Do you think I want to put you all in danger? It’s the only way to get the Finis close enough to Venus. I need to get into the courtroom with it, and I can’t if we’ve already gone into battle.”
My stomach turns. Cupid frowns and I feel a shift in his mood. It seems he wasn’t expecting this.
“So where exactly do we fit in to all this, then?” asks the Minotaur. “You know, I was perfectly happy where I was before.” His dark eyes find Crystal in the odd group. “Well . . . almost.”
“You’re here to serve as a distraction,” Cal says. “When Venus officially starts the trial, you’ll break into the courtroom and the battle will st
art. When Venus’s attention is on you, I’ll fire the arrow.”
“What about our weapons?” asks Pandora. There’s a murmur of agreement among the others.
“I managed to recruit a couple of agents,” Cal says. “When the four of us are up in the trial room, they’ll bring down your weapons.” He turns to Crystal. “You said you wanted to tell me something?”
Before she can respond, the sound of marching footsteps vibrates through the dungeon ceiling and makes the artificial lights jitter.
“Everyone back in their cells!” Cal says. “The matchmaking agents are making their way to the courtroom. I need to get back upstairs to avoid suspicion.”
He looks at Cupid and Crystal, then his silver eyes settle on me. There’s a pained expression on his usually stern face. “Good luck,” he says. Then turning on his heel, he heads off through the group of Myths.
“Brother?” Cupid calls, making Cal glance back. “When you fire the arrow . . . don’t miss.”
The two brothers share a look and Cal nods.
When Cal is gone, everyone stands in silence for a moment, as though contemplating the enormity of the battle ahead. Cupid finally steps forward.
“Better get back to the cells,” he says. “Someone’ll be down for us any minute.”
A few groans resound before the beings skulk back to their tiny barred rooms. Charlie touches my arm as she passes by me.
“You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. You? What happened in the Sim?”
“Oh, it was awful,” she says lightly. “I was trapped in an eternal history lesson, and there weren’t even any boys.”
Something in her eyes tells me she’s lying, but I humor her anyway.
“Sounds terrible.”
She grins then makes her way to her cell, turning around for a last look at me before entering. “Be careful, Lila,” she says, closing the door.
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