Fate Undone (The Mythean Arcana Series Book 5)

by Linsey Hall

  Logan crept into the room. Sylvi was still asleep, as beautiful as when he’d left her. He forced his gaze away and lay down quietly on the other bed. Ian would be several more hours. It had been over twenty-four hours since Logan had slept and Sylvi needed at least several more since he’d showed up at her place in the middle of the night.

  He set his mental alarm clock for three hours and tried to focus on something soothing—something not Sylvi—so that he could recharge. The soft sound of her breathing didn’t help, but eventually he drifted off.

  He woke three hours later, his mind no more distracted from Sylvi than it had been when he’d drifted off.

  The dreams…

  He hadn’t had them in centuries. When they’d first been parted, the dreams had tormented him with everything that he’d lost. But eventually, after centuries, they’d faded away. Until now.

  No. He yanked himself back from the memories. Two weeks. He had two fucking weeks until Aleia’s prophecy came true and the prison was complete. He didn’t have time for this shit. This was why he’d initially planned to seek Sylvi after he’d destroyed the labyrinth—she was a distraction he couldn’t turn away from. His intense desire to be near her had clouded his mind and he was now paying the price.

  He scrubbed a hand over his eyes and swung out of bed. Late-afternoon sun shone through the windows. Sylvi still slept.

  “Hey, wake up,” he said.

  She jerked upright and drew her staff from the aether, pointing it—and her magic—directly at him.

  “Jumpy?” he asked.

  Her eyes cleared and she shrugged. She lowered the staff and it disappeared. “How long was I out?” Her voice was husky from sleep. The sound sent a thrill down his spine.

  “About six hours. Ian and his companions should be back in Wadi Mousa by now. They had a meeting with Bedouins that I didn’t think it would be helpful to interrupt.”

  “Companions?”

  “The woman he loves, Fiona Blackwood. Along with another university employee. I don’t know her name, but I saw her once, fighting alongside university staff members.”

  “Really?” Sylvi’s voice was suddenly very interested.

  “Yes. I wasn’t expecting her, but if Ian trusts her, then she’s probably all right.”

  “Okay. I’m going to get cleaned up real quick and we can go.”

  He nodded and watched her walk into the bathroom and shut the door. When the water began to run, he called up the Immortal Fire again. Ian, Fiona, and the university woman were walking down the street on which the hotel was located, no doubt returning. They’d wait for them in the lobby.

  He closed the flame as Sylvi walked out, her golden hair now pulled behind her head in a long tail that swept down her back.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “Almost. I’m going to have to shift to change my face.” He’d reverted to his normal face—that of Loki—when he’d appeared at her house. It had been centuries since he’d showed it, but it had felt good. Easier than keeping up the charade of Logan.

  “Oh. So Logan isn’t just a name change.”

  “No. And though Ian and Fiona might know my real identity, the other person with them does not.”

  “Makes sense. Otherwise you’d never have remained hidden from the gods if they’d decided to come after you.”

  “Exactly.” He closed his eyes and focused on his alter ego. Same dark hair and pale skin, but blunter features.

  “Pretty good,” Sylvi said. “No one would recognize you.”

  He opened his eyes. “It’s worked for me. Let’s go, they’re nearly here.”

  They reached the lobby just as the small group arrived.

  Ian saw him first. Surprise, then joy, lit his face. His old friend, a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and green eyes, strode toward him. “Logan!”

  Ian clasped him in a hug, pounding his hand on his back.

  “How the hell did you get out?” Ian asked, his Scottish brogue thick.

  “I’m a god. It wasn’t hard.”

  Ian punched him hard in the shoulder. “You bloody bastard. If it was that easy, you should have gotten me out sooner.”

  “It was safer in there. MacKelver and his men were after us when the university captured you, remember?” he said, referencing the other thieves who’d competed with them for the treasures in the Scottish Museum of Antiquities. They’d been a nasty bunch—talented and powerful—and they’d been out for Ian and Logan’s blood since they’d started robbing the same museum. With his shapeshifting, Logan had no problem hiding from them. Ian wasn’t so lucky.

  But even as he made excuses, his conscience tugged at him. Maybe he should have gotten his friend out sooner, but he’d judged it the right move at the time. Ian’s capture had coincided with Aleia’s prophesy about the prison. All his energy had become dedicated to solving that.

  And it was far easier to escape the university prison than it was to break in. It had taken him decades and extraordinary effort to obtain the charm that let him onto the campus. Without it, he’d never have been able to free Ian.

  But he didn’t make excuses for himself and he wasn’t about to start. Oddly enough, for the first time in centuries, he felt the need to apologize. It felt too strange to say the words, so he said, “You’re right. I’m an asshole. I won’t do it again.”

  “Good enough,” Ian said.

  Something untwisted in Logan’s chest. He didn’t deserve Ian’s friendship. But he’d take it.

  “Logan, you remember Fiona.” Ian pointed to the pretty brunette who stood to his left.

  Like Ian, Fiona was a historious, a Mythean who could locate ancient artifacts and read their histories. It made her a good archaeologist, from what he’d heard. Ian was also half Sylph, an air spirit with the power of invisibility. That made him an excellent thief—able to locate treasures and then nip in and steal them. It’s how he and Ian had met—raiding the tomb from which Ian had saved him when he’d run afoul of a nasty protection spell.

  “Good to see you,” Logan said.

  “Likewise.” She had the Scottish accent of one from Edinburgh.

  Ian gestured to a tall woman with wild black curls who stood next to him. “This is Vivienne. She knows the region. The map you gave us is screwy—terrible cartography and the writing all around the edges is in some ancient language that keeps changing. We’ve been here nearly two months and are only now closing in on the X at the end of the map. After our first six weeks of failure, we called Vivienne. She’s an archaeologist and has been enormously helpful.”

  “And a Sila,” Vivienne added. “Though that’s a new development. I’m a halfblood and just recently found out I’m Mythean. The world is a whole lot more crazy.”

  Interesting. She was a type of Jinn whose power was connected to the aether. She could aetherwalk to all afterworlds. Even the gods couldn’t do that. Rare talent.

  Maybe he could get her to help him pay a visit to those bastards in Asgard.

  Nah, he had other things to do.

  “So, what the hell is this all about?” Ian asked. “Why’d you send me on this goose chase, claiming that what’s at the end of the map would help get you out of prison?”

  “It will. Just not the regular university prison. They’re building a super prison to hold the gods. The Labyrinthine Prison of Lethe, it’s called. It’s what you were building on work detail, and it’s almost complete.”

  “The hell it is,” Ian said. “It was a mess when I was there. The overseers made us destroy and rebuild every wall we built. Repeatedly.”

  “I thought so too. But it’s the nature of the prison.” He explained the portal to Hades and the river Lethe and his theory that it was affecting the memories of even the builders. “It will make the prisoners forget themselves. Every memory, every thought they’ve ever had, until they’re wandering aimlessly through the prison.”

  “That’s fucked up,” Ian said.

  Vivienne and Fiona’s expressio
n said the same.

  “Utterly,” Logan said. “Have you learned what’s at the end of the map?”

  “We don’t know.” Ian glanced at Vivienne. “When we reached Petra, it activated the map. The text at the edges began changing so fast that we couldn’t translate it. We tried taking pictures so that we could translate it at our speed, but the pictures were always blurry.”

  “Strange. The map’s creator said nothing about that.” When he’d asked Aleia for help avoiding Ragnarok, the great battle that would end his life, neither of them had expected he’d need her help avoiding eternal imprisonment in an insane labyrinth. Aleia was able to help him partially—with things like the map—but she didn’t have a complete grasp on the situation as she wasn’t all-seeing.

  “Vivienne can translate Nabataean, Aramaic, and Arabic and can read the map almost as fast as it can change,” Fiona said. “It’s really helped.”

  “It’s a combination of all the languages, which is strange,” Vivienne said. “The writing describes a constantly changing route through a huge temple we found back in the mountains.” Vivienne’s eyes glowed with excitement. For an archaeologist who worked primarily with cultures that had died out, this personal interaction must be fascinating.

  “Explain,” Logan said.

  “At the end of a map is an enormous, ornate temple carved into the side of a mountain,” Ian said. “It’s like Petra, where the tourists visit. But unlike the mortals’ Petra, the interior is carved out to extend miles back under the mountain. The interior is always changing, so to get to the other end of the temple, which is miles back, you have to navigate the constantly changing hallways by following the directions on the map.”

  “Just yesterday, we finally narrowed it down to which building the map refers to. There are dozens of enormous, ornate temples carved into the rock in that canyon. It’s an ancient Mythean settlement that makes the mortals’ Petra look puny,” Vivienne said. “I tried aetherwalking past the corridors that are constantly changing, but there are wards prohibiting it. I don’t know if we’ll be able to read the map quickly enough to follow the right directions as the corridors change.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Sounds delightful,” Sylvi said.

  “We’ll go now, if you’re ready,” Logan said. He glanced at everyone. “And if you don’t mind accompanying us, seeing as how we need your help to interpret the map.”

  They all nodded.

  “Then let’s head to this temple,” he said.

  “Vivienne, if you’ll take Logan, I can make two trips for Ian and Fiona,” Sylvi said. Though Logan had once had the power of aetherwalking, Ian and Fiona were both from species that lacked the ability entirely.

  “Actually, aetherwalking is one of my talents. I can take two at once. Why don’t we switch?”

  Sylvi nodded. She did her best not to think about the hardness of Logan’s muscles when she circled an arm around him. She couldn’t ignore the scent of his skin, however. Warm and clean, it wrapped around her. His arms followed.

  She shook her head slightly to clear it and reached out for Vivienne’s hand. Since she only had a vague idea of where they were going and no name for the place, contact with Vivienne would ensure they ended up in the same location.

  As soon as she felt Vivienne’s grasp, she focused on Vivienne and the approximate location of their destination.

  Moments later, she opened her eyes to see that they were standing in a narrow canyon. Only about a dozen feet wide, it rose more than three hundred feet in the air on either side of them. She stepped out of Logan’s arms.

  They set off silently through the gorge for the half-mile trek to the temple. Vivienne took up the lead and Sylvi stayed close behind her. She was certain she felt the heat of Logan’s gaze on her back but she tried to ignore it in favor of studying her surroundings. Early morning light glowed golden through the canyon. Between the light, the rose-tinted rock, and the silence, it was otherworldly.

  When the canyon finally opened up into a much larger one, Sylvi sucked in a breath. It was magnificent. Sun illuminated the canyon wall across from them, highlighting glorious buildings that had been carved right into the rock face. Columns, pediments, and friezes—all as ornate as those found in ancient Greece or Rome—decorated the fronts of the buildings that had been painstakingly sculpted into the stone.

  There were dozens of them, but one was the largest and grandest of all. Over a hundred feet tall, the many-columned structure was decorated with hundreds of carvings of ancient men and beasts. It made the archaeological site of Petra that was famed amongst mortals pale by comparison.

  “There are no guards.” Logan’s raspy voice sounded from behind her and she shivered. He was right. The place was empty and silent.

  “Whoever built this place doesn’t believe them necessary,” Vivienne said. “The moving corridors do all the work.”

  “Could I see the map?” Logan asked.

  Vivienne handed it over and Logan looked down at it. “I don’t see the languages you’re talking about. It all looks like Norwegian to me.”

  Sylvi glanced over his shoulder and saw a scrawl of various texts.

  Vivienne joined them and said, “Nope. That’s Nabataean, Aramaic, and Arabic. All local languages. And see how they’re changing?”

  Sylvi watched the text switch in different sections, though she couldn’t read it.

  “The map was made for me,” Logan said. “Perhaps there’s a spell on it that makes it possible for me to read it in my native tongue.”

  “That’s a huge advantage,” Vivienne said. “You can read it faster than me since you don’t have to struggle with the translations.”

  “Okay. I’ll lead,” Logan said.

  They made their way silently across the valley floor, the only noise that of their feet scraping along the pale sand and rock.

  It was quick work to climb the broad, sweeping stairs to the giant doors. It took all of them to push the doors open. Unable to help herself, Sylvi’s eyes traced Logan’s straining biceps. Like nearly all the gods, he was exceptionally well built.

  When the door began to creak open, she dragged her gaze away from Logan to peer inside. They crossed the threshold into a huge square room.

  The shaft of light streaming through the door illuminated the empty space and the intricate carvings on the far wall. An enormous woman wearing flowing robes presided over a partially constructed temple being built by slaves. The carving was so intricate that Sylvi could see the individual links in the slaves’ chains.

  The carving emanated such strange, evil power that Sylvi shivered and drew her staff from the aether. Its familiar heft comforted her. With her staff to focus her magic, nothing could stop her.

  She fell into step behind Logan, her senses perked for any movement or threat. When they left the illumination of the open door, Sylvi drew power from the aether and forced it into her staff until it glowed. The light filled the corridor and cast shadows at their feet. The others fell into step behind her and Logan.

  He led them to the back of the huge room where a wide, low-ceilinged hallway led into the mountain.

  Sylvi glanced behind her and caught Logan’s eye briefly before he looked down at the map in his hand. He set off down the hall and she followed.

  Logan led them through corridor after winding corridor, turning at seemingly random intervals. Soon, Sylvi was hopelessly lost. Occasionally she’d see a carving or relief of the same woman from the main entrance. In all instances, she presided over small carvings of other buildings. Large and small, they always surrounded her. Every carving emanated the same dark power.

  Suddenly, the ground shifted beneath Sylvi’s feet.

  “Run!” Logan yelled. He reached behind him and grabbed her hand, then tugged her along the passageway.

  Up ahead, the exit to another corridor was disappearing as theirs spun within the mountain. They barely managed to slip through, but had only seconds to catch their breath before Logan c
ommanded that they run again.

  The floor of this new corridor was cracking and dropping away in dinner plate-sized sections. Gaping holes into nothingness were left in its place.

  She raced along the corridor, her hand gripped tightly in Logan’s, jumping from solid ground to solid ground, having to leap farther every time as more of the earth fell out from beneath them.

  When the ground under Sylvi’s feet collapsed and fell into nothingness, Logan jerked on her arm and swung her to safety. Her shoulder sang with pain, but the solid ground beneath her feet made it worth it. He tugged her along another twenty feet until she was certain they were on solid ground again.

  A scream sounded from behind them. Sylvi spun to see Ian crouched on the ground, his back to them. He reached into an abyss. Only Fiona stood next to him. Vivienne must have fallen.

  Sylvi’s heart leapt into her throat and chills ran the length of her spine as she turned back to help. Logan grabbed her from behind and shouted, “Wait!”

  She halted, not wanting her weight to send the earth beneath their feet crumbling.

  A second later, Ian pulled Vivienne up from the abyss. She was shaking and wild eyed, but as soon as she was on solid ground again, she started running toward them. The others followed. Sylvi and Logan spun and led the way down the corridor.

  The five of them raced along the corridors for unending minutes. When they ducked through a low opening that led to the next passageway, unbearable heat blasted Sylvi in the face.

  Before them, the passage was filled with raging flame, burning too bright and strong for a space with so little oxygen. Immortal Flame, the magical fire that Logan used so frequently, burned out of control ahead of them. There was no way through.

  Logan stepped in front of them and handed her the map, then thrust out his hands. The flame flickered and shimmered wildly before beginning to contract. It struggled against Logan’s magic, unwilling to blink out of existence, but he was stronger. Eventually, it disappeared entirely.

  “Go!” he shouted.

  Terrified that the flame would burst back into existence, Sylvi ran so fast she thought her heart might burst through her chest. The air was hot and dry as it sawed in and out of her lungs, but eventually they made it into another empty corridor.