Chapter 66
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Polaris said, her hands tucked into the folds of her dark navy cloak. The three immortals stood before a weathered oak door. The hallway passage narrowed until their shoulders brushed one another before the threshold.
“Now or never,” Altair whispered, his voice a low grumble in the stillness of the sleeping castle.
The god turned the tarnished knob and the door clicked open, its hinges creaking from years of resting undisturbed.
“Why is it always a ratty old door that marks the entrance to places such as this? For once, perhaps the entrance to our untimely deaths could be glamorous and sparkling.”
Tethys scoffed. Her brother’s humor, although a clear defense against the unyielding wave of terror pumping through his veins, thinned the too-heavy air. The doorway revealed steps that plunged into darkness, thicker than the heaviest quilt.
“I’ll be sure to drape your tomb in diamonds and pearls,” she said, brushing past her siblings.
The shadows swallowed all remnants of light as she descended, Polaris and Altair trailing her step for step.
The temperature dropped with each level, passing unlit sconces, coated in dust and cobwebs, every so often.
Tethys could feel her siblings’ eyes brand into her as she continued down the stairwell. Her skin, muscle, even bones, begged the goddess to turn and fly back to the surface. She was an intrusive force amidst the ancient darkness. Polaris placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Wait,” the goddess whispered. “Did you hear that?”
Tethys gripped the stone wall and turned to face her sister. Hair pricked on the back of her neck as she held her breath. Only silence greeted them as they stilled, however.
“I don’t hear anything,” Tethys replied, her gaze darting from shadow to shadow. “Let’s keep going. If we’re caught down here…Well, we all know who Obscuros would punish first.”
Altair nodded and grasped their sister’s hand. Tethys thought it incredulous that she was the one who now summoned the courage to will her legs forward. Not the goddess of night, who harbored darkness, or the all-powerful sun king with his endless daylight, but the youngest, vacant of any magic.
The passageway narrowed as they trudged on, spiraling into the depths until all awareness of time and space declined into nothing. Tethys’s eyes burned, desperate to focus on something, anything tangible in the sea of misty shadow.
“Sister, I swear, either I’m losing my damned mind, or there’s something following us,” Polaris said, her whispered breath frantic against Tethys’s neck.
Tethys stopped, her boot hovering over the step below. She closed her eyes, drawing in a breath, and focused on every faint creak and groan echoing through the stairwell. Again, only her siblings’ shallow breaths disrupted the silence.
“I think it’s the latter,” she snipped. “Let’s go. We’re getting close.”
Before her leather sole met stone, however, a faint growl sent a wave of ice through her veins.
“Ok, even I heard it that time,” Altair said, his low voice quivering. A heavy thud sent dust particles cascading from the ceiling.
“Run,” Polaris cried.
They stumbled down the stairwell, no longer cautious in the darkness. Tethys’s elbow cracked against granite as she mis-stepped and landed on her ankle. Altair gripped her bicep before her head impacted the dusty, stone floor.
“Are you alright? Did you land on your belly, sister?” Polaris asked, her eyes luminous in the shadows as she knelt beside Tethys.
“No, I’m fine. Just keep going, before whatever’s upstairs reaches us,” she replied, smoothing back the curls fallen out of place.
Tethys placed a hand on her abdomen. Maybe it was a mistake coming here, putting her son at risk.
There wasn’t time for retrospection, though, as another growl, this time deafening, sent tremors through the passageway.
“Do you still think Mother’s stories of the Minotaur to be merely fables, brother?” Tethys asked, flying down the remaining steps.
“I’d prefer if we didn’t find out,” he said, matching her pace. A single flame fluttered in the distance. They raced toward the light—a lit torch, Tethys realized, but as the flicker came closer, the stairwell shook.
“Faster!” Tethys cried, her long, trailing cloak collecting fallen dust particles as she quickened her descent. Her siblings followed suit, every so often glancing behind them.
Down and down they went, their three frantic heartbeats thrumming in time. Tethys’s calves ached as she reached the bottom—a narrow corridor lined with entryways. At the end was a locked door, humming with ancient secrets.
“Again, another rickety old door,” Altair feigned a chuckle through rapid breaths.
Tethys wasn’t sure what she expected down here among the spiders and dust, but the old, rotting door at the end of the passage wasn’t it.
This old thing, mounted on rusted hinges and pieced together from gnarled wooden planks, was the gateway to the Rift?
She sucked in a breath, her heart climbing up her throat.
“Save your jests for when we aren’t about to be mauled by a mythical beast, please,” Polaris snapped, scanning the stairwell once more for even the slightest disturbance.
Tethys approached the gate, feeling it beckon to her like a siren’s call. When she took another step, however, her boot froze before connecting to the floor.
A roar, loud enough to shake the very bones of the keep’s foundation, echoed around her. She knew what would greet her if she turned back to face her siblings.
“Tethys…” Polaris whispered, her voice rippling with terror.
Tethys turned around.
Standing at the base of the stairwell was a creature of nightmares. With legs thicker than oak trunks, and a broad chest, was the Minotaur. Its eyes gleamed red in the darkness as it huffed and took the three immortals in.
“Fuck…” Altair breathed, risking a slow step toward Polaris. Veins rippled under its swollen biceps and webbed down the length of its arms into enormous hands. Its claws scraped across the stairwell walls, leaving clean gashes through the rock in their wake.
“Do not move, nor breathe,” Tethys whispered, recounting her mother’s bedtime tale. The Minotaur—although with brilliant, gleaming eyes—was blind. It snapped its jaw at them, the iron ring pierced in its septum rising and falling with each heavy snort.
Altair tread closer to his sisters, his posture rigid and alert.
“Cast your wards, Altair,” Tethys said, her words barely a whisper in the heavy, silent space. She risked a step toward the doorway.
Altair flashed her a hesitant look, but raised his palms. Before his magic hummed around them, though, the Minotaur charged.
“This isn’t good…” Altair muttered. The beast lurched for the immortals with claws raised and lip snarled. It flew down the hallway, shaking the keep’s foundation with every heavy, massive step.
“Altair! Cast your wards! Now!” Tethys cried, sprinting toward the doorway. But, Altair didn’t hear her. Her brother now rushed the beast with golden sunbeams igniting his veins. The light webbed throughout his body, fueling his strides with summer warmth and raging seas.
“Sister, stay here,” Polaris said before she, too, started for the beast.
Beams of night and day intertwined as the two immortals sent their power hurtling toward the Minotaur. Violet shades of the borealis wrapped up its arms and twisted around its neck. The beast’s raging path slowed, but when it roared again, her siblings’ power dissipated.
Altair dove for its leg, wrapping himself around the massive trunk. The Minotaur bellowed and swiped for the god, narrowly missing his chest. It shook furiously, sending Altair scattering across the floor. His back hit stone with a nauseating crack.
“Brother!” Tethys cried. She felt as helpless as a child, watching her siblings battle with death. The beast slashed and snarled and lunged for her sister as Polaris blasted another beam of power. Her violet fury landed its blow, searing sinewy flesh down to the bone. The Minotaur howled.
Tethys couldn’t see past the flashing borealis and jolting sunbeams. Chaos erupted around her. The walls fractured and the floor shook. Sunlight melted into darkness. Night entwined with day. Only the Minotaur’s savage snarls and earth-shattering growls escaped from the haze of battle.
“Tethys! The gate!” Polaris called, her pale face illuminated in magenta and teal. “Go through the gate!”
But Tethys couldn’t move. Her little light sent a fluttering panic up her body, rooting her to the floor. The Minotaur lurched for Polaris, its claws outstretched, but she dodged with fluid, immortal speed.
For a moment, Tethys wondered where Polaris learned how to fight.
Perhaps the Ursaean generals ensured her battle skills were proficient in the lethal, cold climate.
But that thought fled a moment later when the beast turned on its heels and raced toward Altair, still limp and struggling against the corridor wall.
“No!” Polaris sobbed, rushing toward their brother. The Minotaur’s nostrils flared—it’d caught Altair’s scent. Its ruby eyes burned brighter as it charged the summer king, closing in on the wounded god.
“Altair, get up!” Tethys cried. “Get up!”
But the god strained against his injury. His body was healing, but not fast enough. “Get up, Altair, please!”
Polaris was on him, then, struggling to hold his weight.
She sent one more bolt of power toward the Minotaur.
It wound up its arms, each tendril scorching flesh, but she’d spent too much magic.
The borealis fizzled before reaching the Minotaur’s heart, and the beast barreled toward them without failure.
Altair dropped to his knees. Polaris fell beside him, tugging their brother’s arm toward escape.
The Minotaur’s jaw snapped as it closed in. They were going to die, and it was all Tethys’s fault.
She’d risked their lives coming down here.
She’d been reckless, blinded by her own nightmares, to refuse primordial help.
Now, her siblings faced the consequences.
“Stop, please!” Tethys wailed.
The Minotaur froze, halting with raised claws and gnashing teeth.
Tethys drew a breath, feeling every muscle attempt to comprehend what was happening.
The beast turned to face her, its eyes now void.
“Wh-what?” she breathed. No longer was there violence erupting throughout the corridor. The walls, once cracking, now silenced. The ground, once tremoring, now stilled. The Minotaur simply huffed with heavy breaths and watched her.
Waiting for her, she realized.
Tethys took a step toward her siblings, cautious and slow. The Minotaur didn’t charge.
“Do not attack,” she tried. Again, the Minotaur only watched. Tethys knelt beside her siblings, keeping her eyes fixed on the beast. It didn’t move. Nor did it rear its horns and huff a violent breath.
“Are you alright, Altair?” she asked.
He nodded, carefully bracing himself on the wall.
“I’ll be fine. Are you…are you commanding it?” His eyes flicked to the Minotaur, still merely watching, merely waiting.
“I don’t know,” Tethys said. “We need to get you up.”
Polaris drew in a breath, helping their brother to his feet. The three, still followed by unwavering ruby eyes, shuffled to the door.
“Are you strong enough to cast a ward, brother?” Polaris asked, smoothing her black locks. Altair nodded and shifted his weight. He raised his palms and sunlight bloomed once more. The magic hummed in his hands then extended around them, encircling the three immortals behind a shimmering curtain.
“Will that hold?” Polaris asked, her eyes never leaving the Minotaur’s vacant ruby stare.
“I fucking hope so,” the summer king replied, grounding himself to the floor. The ward pulsed with Altair’s heartbeat—weak, but steady.
Tethys placed a hand on her belly, searching for reassurance from her little light, and looked to the Minotaur. He offered a small kick that propelled her forward.
“Return to where you came from and don’t come back until we’re gone,” Tethys commanded. The beast dipped its chin and turned on its heels. It ascended the steps slowly until nothing but scarred walls, singe marks, and spattered blood was evidence it’d been there at all.
“Let’s make this quick, Tethys. I don’t know how long I can hold this,” Altair said, straining under the weight of his magic.
Tethys nodded and approached the door. Although nothing more than rotten wood, the gate’s threshold hummed with ancient energy. She placed her cheek against its frame, feeling the power coursing just behind its lock.
“Sister, now, please.” Altair grimaced, with open palms and gritted teeth. The exhaustion etched over his brow mirrored Tethys’s own as she retrieved the prism key from her cloak.
She sucked in a breath.
Iridescent light gleamed from the door frame, as if responding to the keys presence, beckoning it. Tethys squeezed her eyes, her hand shielding her belly, and plunged the key into the lock.