Demons
DEMONS
EVANDER
The magic in the atmosphere was overwhelming. Even without the presence of Typhon, Evander could still sense the energies in the air. They smelled and tasted just like Mona’s magic, but amplified so intensely it felt as if the power was swelling around him like a tidal wave.
He was momentarily jolted from his awe of the earth witch haven when both Mona and Pandora stiffened beside him, their wide eyes fixed on the king. Sol was bowing before him, but Midas rose and brought his gloved hands to Sol’s shoulders, his face splitting into a wide smile.
And he called him nephew.
Evander hadn’t known Hestia well, so her death hadn’t affected him nearly as much as Mona. But he did have a certain reverence for the fire goddess. She had stepped in the path of Apollo’s fury when Evander could not. Ultimately, she had made the sacrifice Evander intended to make himself.
He had been too weak to absorb the blow. And for that, he felt he owed Hestia—and her bloodline—his life.
He felt the sudden urge to lay himself at Midas’s feet, to beg his forgiveness, to offer his sincerest apologies that his sister was dead.
Did Midas even know? If Apollo had cursed him, Evander presumed this meant the god was unable to return to Elysium. Did he realize his sister had died? Had he somehow sensed it?
Midas and Sol were speaking in undertones, both of them grinning. The sun god looked unrecognizable. Evander had grown so accustomed to his scowl that to see his dark eyes light up and crinkle with delight was strange.
“And who have you brought with you?” Midas asked, approaching the rest of their party. Pandora inched behind Mona, the movement almost imperceptible. She looked as if she wished to melt away from the room entirely.
Evander couldn’t blame her. Sol clearly despised her. And if Midas was Sol’s uncle, then Pandora was right to fear him. Would the king seek retribution by punishing Pandora? Saffron had mentioned Midas’s word was final, which made it seem like he held the authority, not the Gorgon sisters.
When Midas stood before them, Mona curtsied low, and Evander followed suit with a bow. Pandora lowered herself as well, head bowed and hands trembling as she held her skirts.
“Greetings, Your Highness,” Mona said, her head still inclined politely toward the king. “We thank you for allowing us entry. We come with grave tidings from Elysium and have come to seek your aid.”
This wasn’t entirely true; technically, they were there to see the Gorgon sisters. But if Midas harbored ill will toward Apollo, it likely meant he could be their ally.
Evander found himself smiling at Mona’s wit. Instead of speaking of Hestia’s death, shifting the focus on the loss of Elysium and Apollo’s disappearance would hopefully inspire Midas to work alongside them.
Midas’s expression sobered. His brows lowered, and he nodded gravely. “Yes. I know all about what’s happened in Elysium.” His eyes shifted to Pandora and they seemed to darken with fury.
Evander straightened. “How?” he asked. “Your Highness,” he added quickly.
“I have a reflection bowl, courtesy of that damned sun god when he cursed me.” Midas’s voice lowered to a growl. “I think he enjoyed gloating, knowing I was watching him live the life of a beloved king while I wasted away here in the mortal realm.”
Something prickled in the back of Evander’s mind. If he recalled correctly, there were two reflection bowls in existence. One was in the Underworld, likely in Cyrus’s palace somewhere. The waters in the bowl allowed a person to observe any place in any realm whenever they wished.
“So, you saw what happened?” Sol asked. His gaze also flicked to Pandora, but there was no anger there. Evander could have sworn he saw concern in that expression, but it vanished almost immediately.
“I did,” Midas said. “I witnessed my sister’s death and the attack of that horrible darkness. Not only that, but I know where that asshole father of yours ended up.” He gestured to Mona, who went rigid.
“I—I beg your pardon?” Mona asked, her voice rising to a squeak.
The entire room seemed to grow still with awareness. Pandora’s eyes were round as saucers. Sol’s face had drained of color, and Evander felt his own blood chill.
Midas snorted, unaffected by the horrified reactions to his declaration. “You did not know? Well, my condolences. I would not wish that kind of father on anyone.”
Mona shook her head and raised a hand, stepping toward the king with a panicked expression on her face. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but… who are you referring to?”
“Apollo, of course,” Midas said, his face twisting into a sneer. “Such a coward, hiding in the Underworld. As if that place is worth anything anymore.”
Evander’s heart slammed wildly in his ribcage as his mind struggled to keep up with Midas’s words. “The Underworld?”
“No, hold on.” Pandora drew closer to the king, her eyes wild and full of terror. “You—You said Apollo ? He’s—He’s her father?” She pointed to Mona with a shaking finger.
“Are you daft?” Midas snapped. “Yes, that’s what I said.”
Pandora inhaled a ragged breath and pressed a hand to her chest. Her eyes rolled back, and she sank to her knees, her breaths turning into sharp wheezes.
Mona rushed toward her, clutching her shoulders before she collapsed on the ground. “Trivia? Trivia ! Look at me.”
Pandora’s head lolled backward, but Evander could tell this was no ordinary fainting spell. After a moment, her body began to twitch and thrash, her head jerking away from Mona.
“No,” Pandora moaned, the sound strangled and anguished. “No, Apollo, please .” Her voice was deeper than normal, and Evander’s skin tingled with awareness.
She was seeing something that wasn’t there. Was this a memory from her past life?
“Trivia, you need to wake up!” Mona shouted, shaking Pandora’s shoulders. The urgency and desperation in Mona’s voice made something within Evander rise to the surface. He joined Mona and gently grasped her arm, grounding her. She, too, was trembling.
“Breathe, Mona,” he whispered. “You know what to do.”
Mona turned to him, her green eyes wide. He held her gaze, his expression calm, willing her to expand her mind. Mona had a tendency to get swept up in her fear, but when she was able to cast it aside, her mind proved to be a powerful weapon.
Gradually, awareness crossed her features, and her breathing slowed. She nodded, holding Pandora with one arm while she plunged her free hand into the golden leaves at her feet. Evander knew she was seeking the earth beneath her. If there was anywhere for Mona to use her magic, it was here in an earth coven.
Mona closed her eyes, muttering something in a low voice that Evander couldn’t make out.
“What is she doing?” Midas whispered.
Sol shook his head, his brows furrowed. His eyes were tight with worry, his gaze fixed on Pandora with a startling amount of concern.
Perhaps the sun god did not harbor as much hatred toward Pandora as Evander believed.
“ Sano, ” Mona murmured, her voice firm and brimming with power.
The earth rumbled, and the leaves shifted with an eerie hissing sound. Cracks split the earth, and brambles and thorns sprang forth, coiling around Pandora.
“Stop!” Midas ordered, surging forward, but Sol extended an arm to stop him.
Mona’s eyes closed, her brows knitting together in concentration. She pressed her hands to Pandora’s chest, and the thorns continued to circle around them. Evander drew closer to Mona, huddling toward her as the brambles formed a cocoon around them. Pandora’s body began to glow, the white light intensifying until it burned against Evander’s eyes. He shut them tightly as Mona continued muttering in another language.
Pandora threw her head back and cried out, the sound strangled and full of anguish. From the gaps in the thorns, Evander saw Sol draw closer, hand outstretched, as if he could reach for Pandora.
But the next moment, Pandora’s eyes were open and clear as they fixed on Mona. Both women were gasping for breath, and a sheen of sweat coated Mona’s forehead. Gradually, the thorny vines receded, slithering back into the cracks of the ground. The light had vanished, and the air went still once more.
Midas gaped at Mona, his face pale. “That—That was Gaia’s magic.”
Evander’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you knew everything that happened in Elysium.”
“I—Well—I don’t—” Midas blustered.
“The reflection bowl doesn’t work that way,” Romanos said, speaking for the first time. He had lingered in the back, arms crossed as he watched the events unfold. Evander wondered if he was entertained by the show. He certainly seemed unperturbed by Pandora’s condition or the revelation of who her father was. He also seemed less than impressed by Mona’s magic, which made Evander wonder exactly what kind of magic Romanos was accustomed to. “The bowl only shows you what you wish to see. Nothing more. It is not omniscient, and it cannot show you more than one scene at a time.”
Evander frowned as he stared at Romanos. His brother seemed to be speaking from experience. Had he used this bowl before? Or had he used the one in the Underworld?
“What happened to her?” Midas waved a gloved hand toward Pandora, who was climbing to her feet with Mona’s assistance.
“What happened was you just informed her that her father is the same bastard she’s been plotting against for the last two decades,” Pandora said, her voice raspy as she rubbed her temples. “And the memories of the soul trapped inside her completely took over, triggered by the thought of Apollo and what he’s done to us both.”
Midas’s mouth opened and closed as he no doubt struggled to process everything Pandora had said. After a long moment, he stammered, “N-No. I said he was her father.” He pointed to Mona.
“Yes, Your Highness,” Pandora said in a tired voice. “She’s my sister.”
From the way Midas’s face paled even further, it was clear the king was not the only one delivering earth-shattering revelations. He opened his mouth to speak when a high-pitched shrieking sound filled the chamber, making the walls rattle. Dust and dirt rained from the ceiling.
Evander instinctively drew closer to Mona. She took his hand in hers, her eyes raised toward the ceiling. The chandelier quivered, and the lights flickered.
A chill of awareness skittered down Evander’s spine as the air filled with a familiar scent. The smell awakened something primal and feral within Evander, an echo of when Typhon had occupied his body.
He knew that smell. He knew that presence.
It was demonic, and it reeked of death magic.
“What is that?” Mona asked.
“Dammit,” Midas murmured. He moved toward a servant who stood against the wall and whispered something. The servant nodded and darted down a tunnel behind the throne. With a fierce expression, Midas turned to face Mona and removed his gloves. His hands were the same brown color as his skin, but a strange golden glow surrounded them like a transparent glove.
“You best summon your earth magic again, little goddess,” Midas said. “We’ve got demons approaching.”