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Sol nodded. “We need to get everyone we can to that portal.”
But the servant shook his head. “There isn’t enough power.”
“Then we will find something to fuel it!” Sol barked. “But we have to try.”
“I will do it.”
The two men turned to look at Pandora. The servant’s eyes grew wide, but Sol’s face twisted into another sneer.
“Like hell you will, Trivia. I’m not letting you anywhere near that portal.”
“Look around you.” Pandora spread her arms. “My magic is protecting us. It’s Gaia’s magic, and it’s the only thing strong enough to counter Pandora’s darkness.”
“No,” Sol ground out.
The servant lifted a finger. “If I may…”
Sol whirled to him, enraged, and the servant flinched under his glare. “What?” Sol snapped.
“If she uses her magic, her essence, to fuel the portal, then she cannot travel through it. She must remain here.”
Slowly, the two men turned to face her once more. The servant wore an expression of anxiety mingled with curiosity. Sol’s was full of loathing, his eyes narrowed.
Pandora nodded at them. “Then, so be it.”
LIFE
PRUE
Prue’s eyes flew open as a rattling gasp escaped her, grating against her throat as if she hadn’t spoken or eaten for days. Her tongue felt dry and scratchy. Her limbs ached and throbbed. She tried to sit up, but her body was stiff. She choked on a panicked cry.
“My queen!” Shuffled footsteps hurried closer.
Prue’s eyes opened to find a darkened room surrounding her, with shelves and various dusty pieces of furniture. The walls were made of a chrome-like silver that she knew quite well.
She was in the castle. Cyrus’s castle.
Hands were on her, and she almost fell forward with relief. Thank the Goddess Cyrus was here.
But she stilled immediately. The fingers grasping her were cool and unfamiliar.
“I’ve got you.” She recognized the voice, and it wasn’t Cyrus.
Realization dawned on her. “Lagos.” His name was breathless on her lips, and she was both relieved and disappointed. “You’re alive.”
He’d gotten out of Tartarus. He’d protected the castle, just like she’d asked.
But where was Cyrus?
“The book said it was natural to feel quite weak when awakened,” Lagos said gently. “Do not overexert yourself.”
Prue’s head whipped to him. “What book? What do you mean by awakened?” As her vision came into focus, she made out a huge, boiling cauldron standing behind Lagos. A book sat open on a table next to it, and the pages thrummed with energy.
“Lagos,” she said, her voice low and full of warning. “What have you done?”
“It wasn’t me, Your Majesty. It was Cyrus.”
Her body went cold at that. She remembered what her mother had told her: You have a fierce husband who has the power to bring you back.
