by Linsey Hall
The arrow flew true and straight.
I held my breath.
It slammed into my mother’s chest, then disintegrated. There wasn’t even a burn mark on her pale skin.
Her eyes flashed up, wide and enraged. “Who’s there?”
I hid, silent. I needed another damned plan.
“Daughter?” She sniffed the air, then tilted her head. “Ah, yes. I believe that must be you.”
Shit. Powerful, miserable hag.
I frowned, mind racing. The only power I had against her was reflecting her magic. She’d probably be prepared for that.
A blast of energy smashed into the marble block behind which I hid.
I flinched back as it slid toward me, shards of stone flying off the front.
“I’ll drive you out!” she shrieked.
Another blast of energy hit the stone, nearly destroying it.
Shit. One more blast and I’d lose my cover.
And she was stealing the information from the goddesses as we spoke. Every delay was dangerous.
My eyes darted to the streams of energy that trapped the four kneeling figures.
If I could reflect a magical attack back at the attacker, maybe I could even divert magic.
I charged forward, hiding behind my shield.
With everything in my soul, I prayed to fate that this worked.
My mother shrieked and sent a bolt of power right at me. It slammed into my shield, nearly making my arm go numb. Clumsily, I tightened my grip so I didn’t lose it. I could try to reflect her magic back at her, but I didn’t want to drop my shield in case she had one of those potion bombs.
When I neared the electric current, I lunged for it, reaching out my hand and bracing myself.
My fingertips collided with the bright white light, and energy zipped through my veins. With all my strength, I threw my shield at my mother, and it smashed into her, making her shriek. The energy coursing through me almost froze me solid, but I forced it out of me, channeling it through my other arm and out my fingertips.
Please work.
I directed the stream of white light at my mother, who was rising from beneath the metal shield that had knocked her to the ground.
The light crashed into her chest, and she shrieked. Something small hit me in the back, startling me but not slowing me down. I forced the magic toward my mother, who went to her knees.
She gave me a vicious look, then one of triumph.
Fear tore at my heart.
Then she disappeared.
Shit!
I dropped to my knees, yanking my hand from the stream of current as pain surged through me. Weakness followed. Horrible dizziness.
But the goddesses were still trapped. I crawled for the crystal that was still stuck in the ground. It continued to shoot the electric light at the kneeling figures. With my remaining strength, I drew a massive ax from the ether. I rarely used this one, but kept if for special occasions.
Rising to my knees, I slammed the ax into the crystal.
The shock reverberated up my arms, but nothing happened.
I was too weak.
Darkness began to close in around me.
Through bleary vision, I saw Tarron appear. He hurtled from the sky like an angel of death, fear and anger on his face. Blood speckled all of his visible skin, and his clothes looked soaked with it. He landed and conjured a huge mallet, then swung it at the crystal.
The thing shattered into a million pieces. The white light faded.
I collapsed. As darkness took me, the edges of my mind processed what had hit me in the back.
Potion bomb.
11
I struggled toward consciousness, my mind fuzzy. The ground was hard beneath my back, the warm air scented with blood.
I was swept up into a pair of arms.
Strong arms.
It had to be Tarron.
He was warm and solid against me, clutching the top half of my body to his.
Groggily, I opened my eyes. Before I could even focus on his face, agony stabbed me in the stomach. I gasped, going blind.
The first thought—the crazy thought—was that Tarron had stabbed me.
But no.
Not possible.
Not after last night.
Then the gnawing need came—I had to go to my mother.
It raged through me, a ferocious desire to tear myself out of Tarron’s arms and run to her. To transport to her. To do whatever it took to get to her side and serve at her command.
Faintly, noises penetrated my mind. Footsteps, a rustling sound, Tarron’s voice. “She’s been hit with a potion.”
I was jostled, the pain shooting from my stomach as my clothes were torn off me. Cold water doused me, front and back. I sputtered, trying to blink my eyes open. To tear myself away from the overwhelming dark desire that blacked out everything else.
Through bleary eyes, I spotted Tarron looming above me, his wet hands hovering over my chest. Concern creased his brow and glinted in his eyes. Water poured from his hands as he washed me clean.
“We have to get the potion off,” he said, his voice sounding desperate.
“I’m afraid that won’t work,” a feminine voice said from behind me. It resonated with power that vibrated my bones.
One of the goddesses.
I shuddered.
“Here, let me.” Another feminine voice.
A figure appeared at the corner of my eye. She was beautiful and pale, with golden hair and a simple white dress decorated with glinting thread that matched her hair.
I fought to get away from her, somehow sensing that she would try to drive my mother’s influence from me.
“No!” I gasped and clawed, even as my subconscious fought within me, some deep little part of my mind screaming for me to shut up and let her help.
“Be still.” Command echoed in Tarron’s voice as he gripped my arms and held me down.
The goddess touched my arm, her fingertips burning hot. It streaked through me like fire, lighting up my veins. I screamed.
Agony.
Pure agony.
But my mind cleared.
It was as if she were burning my mother’s influence out of me.
“That should help,” she murmured.
I lay limp, gasping. Sweat chilled on my skin, and my mind returned to itself.
My situation came to me in a rush, and if I could have dropped my head back to the ground in despair, I would have. Except I was already lying down. Naked. Soaking wet.
Shit.
This was the worst.
If my clothes and makeup were my armor—which they were—they’d just been chucked into the trash.
I stiffened my spine and pressed my lips together. Damn it, there was no time for weakness. I drew in a steady breath and opened my eyes, finally able to see clearly. I could still feel the tug of my mother’s magic—stronger than ever—but I was able to control it.
“Hello.” I smiled at the goddess, deciding to ignore the fact that I was weak as a slug and lying naked on my back, soaking wet. “You must be one of the guardians.”
She gave me a bemused look. “Indeed I am.”
“Well, I’m sorry I was late.” I rose, slowly sitting upright as every bone in my body ached. I gestured to Tarron, my hand palm up and open.
He seemed to get the gist and conjured me a robe. It was black silk, with a plunging neckline and severe lapels.
Well, at least he got me.
I stood and swung the robe around my shoulders, straightening them as I turned to face the four goddesses.
They looked pissed.
And ragged. Each had frizzy hair from the lightning and pale skin, their pupils wide and dark. Burn marks singed their clothes, and they smelled faintly of smoke.
Tarron stood, concern radiating from him like an aura. “Are you all right?”
“No, I suspect I’m not.” I shuddered, the sensation of my mother’s magic inside me making my insides feel like they were coated in slick black
oil. I moved my gaze from one goddess to the next. “But I suppose you can tell us exactly how not all right we are?”
“We were trying to stop that woman from learning the location of the Eternal Fire,” Tarron clarified.
“Oh, we know,” the blonde goddess said. Her sweeping white dress and the laurel wreath around her head looked vaguely Greek. She must be Hestia.
“You almost stopped her,” said the redhead. “Almost.” She wore a brilliant green dress to match her eyes, and her hair looked like it’d be pretty curly even without the electric energy. A Celtic tattoo twined itself around her collarbones—beautiful, delicate knots that had to symbolize something important. She must be Brigid.
“She got the information she came for.”
Shit.
The woman who had spoken was a brunette with beautiful golden skin and midnight eyes. Her clothing was unfamiliar—blue silk that wrapped around her in sweeps of shimmering fabric. She had to be Arinitti, the Hittite goddess.
The last woman—one with pale brown hair and a distinctly Roman toga and nose—crossed her arms and frowned, a seriously peeved look on her face. Vesta, the Roman goddess.
Dread opened a hole in my chest as the reality of our situation struck me.
We’d failed. And the goddesses were pissed.
“Who are you?” demanded Vesta.
I stepped forward. “I am Mordaca, a Blood Sorceress and the daughter of the woman who just stole information from you.”
It was probably a bold move to admit it, but I didn’t want to hide it.
“Took it right out of our heads,” Brigid spat. “That crystal of hers was impossible to fight.”
“What does she want it for?” asked Hestia, the blonde goddess. Her gaze moved between me and Tarron. “It must be for something she plans to do to the two of you, if you’re so keen on stopping her.”
I nodded sharply. “She plans to destroy his realm with it.”
Brigid nearly growled. “If she releases that flame, it will kill hundreds. Thousands. It travels like the wind, destruction incarnate.”
“I told you we should have protected it better,” snapped Arinitti.
Vesta gestured around. “Look, Arinitti. Just look. How much better could we have done?”
I followed her gesture, inspecting the area around us. Dozens of stone statues of warriors lay broken around us. Maybe a hundred. They must have been the forces fighting the Unseelie. That’s why I hadn’t seen them. They’d blended in so well with all the white stone around them, and I’d been so busy trying to stay alive that I hadn’t noticed them at first—I’d had eyes only for the Unseelie attackers or my mother. Even now, she pulled at me.
Shaking, I reached for Tarron’s hand and gripped it tightly. More than anything, I needed to remain mentally present here. In this reality. Not in some crazy half world of compulsive magic that my mother had cast me into with her potion bomb. I’d like to go back and kill whatever Unseelie had hit me with it from behind.
It took everything I had to fight her pull on me. Considering that I had the power to transport to the entrance of the Unseelie Realm in a heartbeat, I almost didn’t trust myself.
“It’s nearly inconceivable that she made it here,” Vesta said. “She was insanely powerful. We had a guard of a hundred stone warriors—not to mention our own powers—and she still triumphed. It’s impossible to plan for that.”
I sort of disagreed, but I kept my mouth shut. We needed info right now, and we needed to be quick.
“Can we stop her?” I asked. “Track her to the Eternal Flame?”
“You can.” Hestia stepped forward, her footsteps faltering. “You must. We are too weak.”
Brigid scowled, as if she didn’t like that assessment, then she lifted her hand to her head, clearly in pain. “I hate to agree with her, but she is right. Whatever was in that harpy’s magic has weakened us. We will go after her as soon as we are able, but I’m afraid that may take time.”
“We don’t have time,” Tarron said.
“Indeed, you do not.” Arinitti frowned at us. “You made it safely through the trials protecting this place.”
“We did. Which is why you should tell us—immediately—how to get to the Eternal Flame so that we can stop my mother.”
Arinitti’s dark brows drew together over her forehead. “You will not use it for yourself?”
She was clearly the suspicious one in the group. Couldn’t blame her, after what my mother had done to her home.
“Only if it allows me to kill her.” I shrugged. “And yeah, running around with Eternal Fire and lighting stuff up isn’t really my style.”
“We went into the Vestals’ pool of truth to prove we aren’t after the flame itself,” Tarron said, apparently deciding to go with more tact than I’d used.
Vesta nodded. “I can feel that.”
“Good, then—” I doubled over. Pain shot through my stomach again, and that familiar gnawing ache ignited inside me. I gasped, tryin to get ahold of myself.
The queen had called.
I have to go to her.
I straightened, the urge consuming me.
“She’s at it again.” Arinitti grimaced.
Bitch.
All the same, the ether tugged at me. As if my transport power wanted me to make the pain stop by going to her.
“Let me.” Hestia stepped forward, reaching out to press her fingertips to my shoulder. Her touch drove away some of the pain and the horrible compulsion.
I straightened, breathing more slowly. “Is there any way for you to stop it entirely?”
She shook her head, her eyes dark. “There is a potion, but I do not have the ingredients. It would give you enough control to resist her call, but I don’t know that it would cure you.”
A potion.
Connor was looking for the antidote. Perhaps he’d found the one she spoke of.
I nodded. “Thanks. What can you tell us about getting to the Eternal Fire? We need to hurry.”
“The fire is located at Mount Chimaera,” Arinitti said. “It has been there for over a thousand years, undisturbed.”
“Mount Chimaera?” Tarron frowned. “Like the beast with a lion’s head and a snake’s tail?”
“Don’t forget the goat head growing out of the middle of its back,” I said. “That thing is real?” It had always sounded too crazy to me, an ancient myth created in a time without TV.
“Not the creature, no,” Arinitti said. “The creature took its name from the mountain, which is populated by lions, goats, and snakes.”
“And some ancient philosopher historians just smooshed them all together to make a weird animal?” I asked.
Vesta scoffed. “Indeed. Morons.”
“In fairness, one of them got it right.” Hestia tapped her chin, then shook her head. “I can’t recall his name, but it doesn’t matter. You must make your way past these creatures to get to the top. They will try to stop you.”
“Do you have any advice for that?” Tarron asked.
After our encounter with the fluffy murder mice, I couldn’t blame him for asking. Even the cutest creatures could be deadly if there were enough of them. I didn’t even want to discover how a bunch of goats could turn on us.
Vesta stepped forward. “You must go to the village of Amata. There, you will find a shepherd by the name of Devrim. Pay him, and he will help you reach the base of the mountain where you will find the safest route to the top.”
“Do not deviate from that route,” Arinitti said.
“What do we pay him with?” Tarron asked. “Is there anything particular he wants?”
“This.” Arinitti stepped forward, then yanked out a piece of her hair. She handed the perfect black strand to Tarron, who took it with a frown. “A goddess’s hair is valuable currency in some circles.”
Tarron nodded, then conjured a small metal box and placed the hair within. He slipped it into his pocket.
“The lions,” Brigid said. “You must not kill t
hem. They are the last Asiatic lions in Turkey. The rest were hunted into extinction in the nineteenth century.”
I wasn’t keen on killing any furry critters—but especially endangered ones. Still, I frowned at her. “Is there anything we can do to get them to let us pass without harming us?”
She shrugged. “Be creative.”
Okay. That wasn’t the best advice, but I was glad she’d at least told us about them. So far we’d gotten help from three of the four goddesses.
I looked to Hestia, who stepped forward. “One more gift.”
She hovered her hand over my shoulder once more, and I nodded.
Lightly, she rested her fingertips on my skin. Warm magic flowed into me, racing up my neck and into my mind.
I shook my head, getting used to the strange feeling. “What was that?”
“You will see.” She smiled and stepped back.
I forced myself to smile gratefully, even though I wanted to make an annoyed quip about the pointlessly enigmatic nature of goddesses.
“You must be careful,” Hestia said. “The magic that is drawing you to the Unseelie queen is extremely powerful. You may need to be chained to keep from going to her.”
I grimaced. “Could I just block my transport magic?”
I had no idea if that was even possible.
“Perhaps,” Hestia said. “If you have a charm to do so.”
There was probably no time to find one. Please have an antidote, Connor.
“Do you know how to break this magical chain on her?” Tarron asked.
“A bit of the queen’s blood could do it,” Hestia said. “Put it into an antidote.”
Add that to the to-do list of misery. “Or I could just kill her.”
“That would be the most effective method, yes.” Hestia nodded.
“Great. Thanks.” Fabulous advice.
“You must go,” Brigid said. “The queen will receive no aid in reaching the top of the mountain as you have, but she may achieve it all the same.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Arinitti glowered.
“You’ll send something after her?” I asked. Arinitti was the perfect one to do it. As a Hittite goddess, Mount Chimaera was in her territory.
“Oh, yes.” Her eyes glowed with an unholy light. “The wrath of our ghosts and myths.”