Soul of the Bride

by Elizabeth Lenhard

  CHAPTER

  12

  Prue had no idea how long she and Piper had been lying there, luxuriating in the Sirens’ beautiful music. All she knew was that she wanted the singing to go on and on. Yet suddenly the lovely sound stopped. Prue stirred slightly, frowning. She wanted the music back. She needed it. She heard Piper moaning softly. Clearly, she felt the same way Prue did.

  Please, please, Prue begged inwardly. Play for us some more. Nothing can make me happy, ever again, except that song.

  But the music didn’t come. Prue groaned. Slowly, with great effort, she opened her eyes. She squinted at the bird-women. They were staring at her and at Piper. The creatures’ mouths were clamped shut. And their beady, black eyes were suddenly venomous. The lead Siren, the brown-haired one, looked most hostile of all. Hopping nimbly on her orange webbed feet, she moved quickly down the boulder toward Prue. And in her agile wing feathers she was holding a knife!

  Prue tried to scream, but the song seemed to have left her in an intoxicated state. She could barely lift her head, much less gather up the energy to scream. She groaned some more and struggled to move. Had . . . to warn . . . Piper . . . .

  The Siren was coming closer. Twitching grotesquely, she raised the knife over her head.

  Panic flared inside Prue’s head, but she could still barely move. The most she could manage to do was fling her arm out.

  She hoped that would be enough.

  Trying as mightily as she could to focus her telekinetic powers, Prue flicked her hand weakly at the Siren.

  It worked. A surge of energy shoved the evil creature back, tumbling her off the boulder and into the surf. Prue heard her scream in rage. This sound was as piercing, as grating, and as terrifying as the Siren’s song had been beautiful. It pierced Prue’s brain like a lightning bolt and cleared it of some of its fog. She blinked hard and looked at Piper. Her sister was clutching her ears and lurching weakly to her feet.

  “Prue,” Piper rasped. “These Sirens . . . lure sailors to their death with their hypnotizing song. They’re going to kill us!”

  “Not if I can help it,” Prue declared, stumbling to her feet as well. She waved her arm and sent Siren #2 tumbling into the ocean. But by then the angry leader had flown back onto the boulders with a violent flap of her wings. She was still clutching her knife, and she was bearing down on them fast.

  “Piper!” Prue yelled.

  Piper nodded and waved her arms at the advancing Siren. Instantly, she froze in space, her face caught in a hideous grimace. The third Siren froze, too.

  “Run!” Prue said.

  Though still weak, the sisters managed to clamber down from the boulders. They began stumbling down the beach, heading to the thick canopy of tropical trees, about two hundred yards away.

  “I feel . . . so . . . floppy,” Piper huffed, breathing heavily as she lurched down the beach.

  “Just . . . keep . . . going,” Prue managed to say before she tripped on a shell and tumbled to the sand. Piper stopped and turned back to help Prue to her feet. As she did, she heard the Sirens’ horrible screams echo over the beach.

  “The time freeze,” Prue said, feeling stronger with each passing second. “It’s ended. How do you feel, Piper?”

  “A little stronger,” Piper said, shaking her head hard.

  “Me, too,” Prue said. “I think we can outrun them.”

  The sisters turned and began to gallop toward the trees. They were halfway there when Piper felt something whiz by her face. She gasped as she saw the lead Siren’s sharp blade crash into the sand before her. It must have missed her by only a centimeter!

  Gasping for breath, Piper whirled around. The brown-haired bird-woman stood on the beach about twenty feet away, screaming in rage. Her two flunkies stood at her side. Their lyre and flute had disappeared, and in their place were knives of their own. Siren #2 passed her weapon to the leader. The hideous bird-woman clutched the blade and reared back. She was going to throw the knife!

  Before she could think twice, Piper reached for the waistband of her leggings. Her fingers closed around the silver letter opener she’d brought for Charon. She hauled back and flung the blade at the lead Siren. Then she gasped in surprise as she saw the knife make a direct hit, piercing the creature’s heart. Green blood oozed from the wound, spilling out over her white feathers. With another scream of rage, the Siren fell to the sand. The other bird-women emitted horrible screeches and threw their wings around their leader, wailing and moaning. That’s when Piper froze time again.

  “Let’s get out of here before they take revenge,” she shouted at Prue. By now the sisters felt strong enough to sprint the rest of the way to the trees. In a few moments, they’d plunged into the forest. They began hiking quickly through the woods, leaping over fallen logs and sloshing through shallow streams.

  “I don’t think they’re following us,” Piper huffed. “They probably can’t fly through the thick foliage.”

  “Even so,” Prue called back as she crashed through a glade of ferns. “I want to put as much distance between us and those Sirens as possible. I can’t believe what power their song had over us.”

  “The myths say only the most heroic sailors could survive their attack,” Piper said, using some stepping stones to cross a stream. “Thank goodness we were able to escape them!”

  “I guess it just takes a witch’s touch,” Prue said, grinning as she hurried down a muddy path.

  The sisters pressed on, hiking for another mile or so before Prue stopped suddenly.

  “Piper!” she yelled.

  Piper, who’d been walking determinedly, her head down, looked back at her sister.

  “Look around us!” Prue exclaimed. “I think we’re back on Nikos’s turf!”

  Piper gazed around and gasped. Without their even noticing, the terrain had gone from lush and green to brown and swampy. The fresh smell of the jungle had been replaced by the dank funk of the marsh. The trees had lost their leaves and their trunks had withered.

  “Look for the mountain,” Piper said suddenly. “Remember, the cave was at the base of a really tall, craggy mountain. More like a pile of boulders, actually.”

  The sisters gazed up, straining to see through the trees.

  “There!” Prue cried, pointing to their left. Through a mist they could faintly see a looming, craggy shape. “That has to be it.”

  “And look!” Piper screamed, pointing at the ground nearby. “The stream that led us to the cave last time!”

  “Phoebe, here we come!” Prue yelled. With that, she and Piper took off through the woods.

  Phoebe slumped in her gilded chair in the enormous dining room and tried to keep her eyes open. The banquet had dragged on for hours, yet the guests never seemed to tire. They slugged back glass after glass of wine, devoured course after course of rich food, laughed a million times at meaningless repartee.

  Jessica hadn’t been kidding when she’d said life in Hades was one long party. That’s all it was—and it was unspeakably empty. The party guests, all of whom had the same glossy black curls and the same cold, vacant eyes as Nikos and Jessica, had tried to engage her in conversation for about a minute. When Phoebe clamped her mouth shut, refusing to speak and staring at them sullenly, they shrugged and turned away. After that, it was as if she didn’t exist. They gazed through her and spoke over her head.

  “Strike two with the in-laws,” Phoebe had muttered, rolling her eyes.

  She glanced at the man at the head of the table, who had to be Hades, god of the underworld. Phoebe saw Nikos’s dark blue eyes and strong jaw in the man. His curls were pitch-black, too, but for a few sparkling strands of silver. He was large and imposing, but other than that, Phoebe was shocked that he was such a powerful god. He looked as shallow as everyone else at the banquet, too immersed in his own enjoyment to even glance at his prospective daughter-in-law. He merely laughed, slugged back wine, and flirted with snake maidens. Phoebe rolled her eyes and looked away.

  In fac
t, for about the millionth time, her eyes drifted to the groaning plate in front of her. Beef tenderloin and potatoes drowning in butter seemed to taunt her. Crusty rolls beckoned from her bread plate. A cornucopia of fruit spilled onto the tablecloth in front of her, and a glass of fragrant red wine sat at her elbow.

  Phoebe sighed and glared at Nikos, who sat several seats away from her. She was so tired and so hungry. She didn’t know how she was going to make it through the rest of this night.

  Simply to occupy her hands, she plucked a pomegranate out of the cornucopia and began rolling it around in her palm. She’d loved pomegranates when she was little. Grams had always had them around at Thanksgiving. Phoebe loved peeling the tough, berry-colored skin away to reveal the clusters of shiny seeds. Every seed exploded with tart, sweet juice when you bit down on it. And they stained your lips bright red, which had thrilled Phoebe to no end in her prelipstick years.

  Listlessly, almost without being aware of it, Phoebe began peeling away this pomegranate’s skin. She pulled at the white membrane underneath to reveal a pod of plump pomegranate seeds.

  They’re so pretty, she mused. They look like rubies. Just like the triangular rubies on her engagement ring, as a matter of fact.

  Phoebe emitted a small, almost silent sob. The hated ring was fused to her hand. She might as well face it. She was going to spend the rest of her life in this cold, horrible place with these sickening, vapid people. There was no hope. And there was no way she could escape, not when she was so drained of energy, so very, very hungry.

  As if in a trance, Phoebe began to pluck the pomegranate seeds out of the fruit, scattering them on the white tablecloth. She gazed at them. They looked so alluring, so succulent. She picked one up and stared at it. Then slowly, she began to bring it to her lips.

  “Phoebe! No!”

  Phoebe gasped and looked up. Where had that voice come from? She looked quickly around but nobody at the table was looking at her. They continued to chatter among themselves, swilling more and more wine, gnawing at meaty bones, and slurping big spoonfuls of soup. Was she hallucinating from hunger?

  “Behind you!”

  Phoebe froze. Then slowly, she turned in her chair. Piper was crouched on the floor, hiding behind the imposing wooden back of Phoebe’s chair.

  “Piper,” Phoebe squealed softly, reaching down to clutch at her sister’s hands. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “Have you eaten anything since you’ve been here?” Piper asked urgently.

  “Ugh, no,” Phoebe said, surprised. “I went on a hunger strike. Why?”

  “That’s fabulous news,” Piper whispered, grinning at her sister through tears of her own. “Okay, we’re going to get you out of here. Prue’s behind the door.”

  Piper nodded at the dining room entrance.

  “We’ve been peeking in,” she continued. “ Everybody seems to be oblivious to you. It’s really weird.”

  “I think it’s because I haven’t eaten the food,” Phoebe replied. “I think the grub is enchanted or something. It turns everyone into an empty-headed party animal. I so don’t fit in. Ironic, isn’t it?”

  “The girl who knows every dance club in San Francisco,” Piper agreed with a grin. “Anyway, if you get up and walk out, very slowly and calmly, I think they might not notice. Nobody even glanced in my direction when I crawled in.”

  “Okay,” Phoebe said as Piper slunk away. Phoebe turned slowly and gazed around. Nothing had changed—the air was still thick with conversation and boozy laughter. Several seats down the table, Nikos was clinking glasses with a snake maiden and nibbling her earlobe.

  Yuck, Phoebe thought. I guess he wants to live up his last moments as a bachelor. Be my guest. Now’s my chance.

  Slowly, Phoebe pushed back her chair and slid off her seat. Then she lifted her long skirts and crouched to the floor. Silently, she slunk through the long dining room until finally, she reached the door. With one more stealthy glance backward, she slipped out of the room, falling into Prue’s waiting arms.

  “Oh, Prue,” she wept, “it’s awful. Nikos is trying to force me to marry him. His father has decreed that if he isn’t married by August fifteenth, he’ll be banished to earth and all his powers will die.”

  “What’s August fifteenth?” Prue asked, stroking Phoebe’s brittle curls soothingly.

  “His twenty-fifth birthday,” Phoebe explained. “We’ve got to get away, now. The wedding’s supposed to be in the morning!”

  “You’re gonna be okay, Phoebs,” Prue whispered, hugging her sister hard. “We’ll be out of here soon. But first, do you know where Nikos is keeping the models?”

  Phoebe nodded.

  “In the dungeon,” she said. “I hope you can break through the door with your powers.”

  “Let’s go,” Prue said. “Lead the way.”

  The sisters were heading out of the foyer when suddenly, a figure shimmered into their path, blocking the way. Nikos! He was still holding his wine glass. He must have shimmered out of the banquet the moment he noticed Phoebe’s absence.

  The spoiled prince snarled at his fiancée.

  “I warned you, Phoebe,” he screamed, throwing his glass to the floor, where it shattered. Then he lifted his hand and swung at Phoebe’s face. An instant before his knuckles connected with her cheekbone, his hand was thrown backward, as if it had bounced off a rubber wall.

  Nikos gaped in confusion. Then he swiped at Phoebe again. His hand bounced away again.

  “What?” he blurted.

  “That’s Zeus’s doing,” Piper announced, grabbing Phoebe’s shoulders. “He’s decreed that Phoebe is free. She’s under his protection. We all are. We’re taking her home.”

  “What . . . no . . . that can’t be!” Nikos bellowed.

  “It is,” Prue spat. “So deal with it.”

  Nikos screamed with rage, his glowing red eyes bulging out of his dark face. Then, abruptly, he grew quiet. And an evil smile began to play across his lips.

  “All right, so you’ve got her,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest in defiance. “But I have your beautiful friends. Five innocents—innocents who will die, one by one, until Phoebe agrees to marry me.”

  CHAPTER

  13

  As Nikos uttered his threat, he clapped his hands over his head. Instantly, three snake servants slithered out and bowed before the prince. “Get the prisoners,” Nikos ordered. “Now!”

  The servants shimmered out of the room. They returned almost immediately, carrying the five models in their arms. Even though it was just their souls that were trapped in Hades, the models looked physically haggard. Chloe’s sharp cheekbones were even more sunken than usual, and Kurt’s muscular arms were limp and weak. They were disheveled and dirt-smeared and shivering in their torn, limp Grecian costumes. The models clung to each other and stared at Nikos fearfully. When Chloe saw Prue, Piper, and Phoebe, she cried out.

  “Where have you been?” she wailed.

  Nikos stalked over to Chloe and slung his arm around her waist. He ripped her from the group and dragged her into the center of the floor.

  “You know, Chloe, I don’t like you,” he taunted. “You complain too much.”

  With that, he whipped a knife out of his velvet suit and pressed it against Chloe’s long, slender throat.

  “Aaaaiiigh,” she screamed, gasping for breath.

  Involuntarily, Piper waved her hands at Nikos, forgetting that her freezing power was useless on him. Prue dropped into fighting stance, getting ready to pounce at Nikos’s slightest move. But then the prince lifted his blade from the model’s neck. He tossed her aside and sheathed his knife.

  “No, I won’t kill her myself,” he said blandly. “That sort of labor is beneath a prince. I have minions for that.”

  Nikos snapped his fingers, and a figure shimmered into the foyer. A lurching, slope-shouldered beast with crusty green skin and a long, razor-sharp tail.

  “Mitchell
!” Prue spat.

  “Mitchell?” Piper and Phoebe blurted together. They gaped at the lumbering, unspeakably ugly demon.

  “But,” Piper stuttered, “but you were—”

  “My lord of the underworld but you girls are dense, aren’t you?” Nikos burst out. “One look at a ‘hottie’ and you lose it completely. You couldn’t tell a demon from Matt Damon!”

  “Hey!” Mitchell growled, curling his blackened lips and drooling angrily. “You could give me a little credit for deceiving them.”

  “No offense,” Nikos said, rolling his eyes. He stalked to the wall and leaned against it, crossing his ankles lazily. Then he gave Mitchell a little wave.

  “All right,” he said, “Hop to. Kill the blond one. Unless Phoebe agrees to our terms.”

  “No!” Phoebe screamed. “Leave her alone!”

  “Then marry me,” Nikos ordered.

  Phoebe gasped, looking wildly from Nikos to Chloe to her sisters. What should she do? Save the innocent’s life and destroy the Power of Three in the process? That would put the lives of the people who needed them in the future at risk. Should she sacrifice Chloe so she could go back to earth? No! She couldn’t do that! Her head was spinning.

  “Prue, Piper,” she whispered weakly. “Help me!”

  Prue watched Mitchell approach Chloe, who was crouching and squealing with fear. Prue had to do something. But what?

  She glanced at Nikos, still smirking on the sidelines. Then it came to her.

  “Hey!” she shouted at Mitchell. The demon turned away from Chloe and glared at her.

  “You’re so easily offended,” she taunted. “Well, how about this, Mitchell? You’re pathetic as a demon! You could barely hit me.”

  She turned to her sisters.

  “I vanquished this loser with his own tail,” she said. “Isn’t that hilarious?”

  Prue burst into maniacal laughter. Nervously, Piper and Phoebe joined in with tepid giggles.

  “What is she doing?” Phoebe whispered through gritted teeth.