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“He has other forces that tie him down,” Mona said darkly.
Hestia’s expression sobered. “Yes, I know. Come. We are almost there.”
She tugged Mona out of the shadows, and they continued winding between buildings. Gradually, the path widened and the buildings grew more scarce, making way for neatly trimmed bushes and lush gardens. They reached a wide courtyard flanked by mighty pillars with ornate carvings sculpted into them. A wrought-iron gate spanned the length between the outer walls of the courtyard, and Mona’s chest fluttered with fear at what she saw.
The gate doors were crushed, the metal bent at unnatural angles. One door had been torn clean off, as if a feral creature had ripped it free.
Evander.
Hestia sucked in a sharp breath, her red eyes darting around the scene. But they were completely alone.
“I believe this is our first clue,” Hestia murmured.
Mona nodded numbly, too shocked to reply.
Hestia inhaled, her eyes closing for a moment. “I only smell death magic. Nothing else. It’s likely the guards have not found him yet.” She grasped Mona’s arm again. “This is good, Mona.”
Mona tried to focus on breathing, but her heart continued to flutter wildly within her chest, making each inhale a strain on her lungs. She remembered how uncontrollable and savage Evander had been when he’d succumbed to Typhon. It had been ages since she’d seen that particular side of him—now that he and Typhon had merged, he had seemed in complete control of the beast.
But if he was dying, she had no idea what he was capable of becoming.
“You don’t understand,” Mona whispered in a shaky voice. “If he is like this”—she gestured to the misshapen gate—“then I fear what he will do.” She turned to Hestia, her eyes hot with tears. “Hestia, I worry he will kill someone.” She closed her eyes, struggling to breathe evenly. A million thoughts and fears raced through her mind.
What if I can’t find him in time?
What if he hurts someone?
What if someone hurts him?
And, louder than all the rest, one particular thought screamed in her head, over and over: How do I find him?
“Breathe, little witch.” Hestia’s warm hands pressed into her shoulders, grounding her. Only then did Mona realize she was wheezing, struggling to inhale, to keep herself afloat.
“You have a quick mind,” Hestia said, her voice low and soothing. “Use it. Do not fall prey to this fear. You are stronger than this.”
Prue’s reminder coursed through her: You are not a coward, Mona. You are brave.
“Use my mind,” Mona whispered. Gradually, clarity broke through her panicked thoughts, and her breathing slowed.
Her eyes flared wide with realization. In the Underworld, Evander had always managed to find her when he needed to. They were linked that way.
Perhaps she could do the same to locate him.
“I know what to do,” she said as a plan began to take form. “I know how to find him.”
RAGE
PANDORA
Not surprisingly, Pandora awoke the next morning with a splitting headache, the echoes of nightmares still haunting her thoughts. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Apollo’s steely glare or Aidoneus’s dark eyes full of pity. She heard her own screams of anguish and rage.
She felt the power of her final spell—her curse—thrumming in her veins.
Pandora had spent her entire life despising Apollo and Aidoenus for what they had done.
But deep down, she harbored a more potent hatred for the goddess who had cast the curse in the first place. The goddess whose thoughts and memories she now bore.
If it weren’t for that curse, Pandora would have been free.
