Schemes
CYRUS
Cyrus landed a punch in Evander’s gut, and he pushed his advantage.
He struck him again and again until his brother hunched over with a low moan.
Victory pulsed through Cyrus, but it was short-lived.
In a flash, Evander’s ghostly wings shot outward.
One of them knocked Cyrus sideways. He caught himself before he collapsed in the dirt.
Evander rammed his shoulder into Cyrus, then stomped on his toes. Cyrus howled in pain, gasping for breath. Evander’s elbow rammed into his stomach, knocking the breath out of him. His fist connected with Cyrus’s jaw. Cyrus tasted blood, and his body ached where his brother struck him.
But the ache was good. It was potent and strong and distracted him from the chaos of his thoughts.
From the agony of missing Prue.
Of being unable to help her. To find her.
With a growl, Cyrus attacked again, fists slamming into Evander’s bare chest. Evander bellowed in part rage, part anguish as he met Cyrus blow for blow. Both of them were covered in sweat and blood.
It was like this every day. Cyrus would meet with his council of advisors to brainstorm on how to locate the Titans. And when they came up short—as they always did—Cyrus and Evander would beat out their frustration on each other, looking for an outlet for their fury.
It would only last so long. Each day, the tension within Cyrus wound tighter and tighter, ready to burst. He wanted to tear the realms apart to find his wife without a care of who he killed along the way.
But he had a kingdom to think about.
The old Cyrus would have destroyed everyone and everything in his path to get Prue back.
But he wasn’t that person anymore.
“Are you really just going to sit back and do nothing?” Evander hissed as he swung his fist and Cyrus blocked it.
“I’m doing everything I can,” Cyrus grunted.
“Are you? That Titan said, ‘When you are ready to negotiate for her freedom, you know how to reach us.’ What did he mean? If you have a way to contact them, why haven’t you done it yet?”
Cyrus closed his eyes and pulled at his hair. “I don’t know! Don’t you think if I knew I would have done it already?”
“Have you checked the spell books? The Book of Eyes?”
Cyrus’s blood chilled, and his nostrils flared. “You know how dangerous that book is.”
“The Cyrus I know would have stopped at nothing to find Prue. Even if it meant diving into that godsforsaken book.”
“Prue wouldn’t want me to do that. Not for her.”
“Who gives a damn what she wants? She isn’t here!”
With a roar, Cyrus tackled Evander, pinning him to the ground and wrapping his hands around his throat. “You piece of shit,” he growled, pressing his thumbs into Evander’s throat. “You think this isn’t killing me? You think I don’t already feel helpless?”
Evander’s hips bucked, jolting Cyrus enough that he loosened his grip on Evander’s throat.
“You have… the power of… the Titans,” Evander wheezed, shoving Cyrus off him and massaging his neck. “You’re the… king of… the Underworld. And you’re doing nothing.”
“I’m trying to be smart about this,” Cyrus said, wiping sweat from his brow. “If we go into another realm and start ripping apart villages in search of them, we’ll be exposed. The Titans will know exactly where we are and they’ll easily pick us apart. We will lose any advantage we have.”
“And sitting here in the Underworld gives us the advantage?”
“It gives us the element of surprise. With me as king, I have the magic of the Underworld on my side. The Titans know that. It’s why they didn’t destroy us in the Undead Wilds as soon as Apollo died.
But they also know we are scrambling and we are desperate.
They are expecting us to do something foolish and reckless. Don’t play into their hands, Evander.”
Evander’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, then dropped his gaze. There was a fire in him that Cyrus hadn’t seen before. It was making him more unhinged every day.
“We will find them,” Cyrus said, putting a hand on Evander’s shoulder.
Evander jerked out of his grasp and bared his teeth. “Don’t console me. I haven’t been able to breathe since that day. They should be here with us. She should be here. I can’t—I don’t—” He broke off with a snarl, then ran a hand through his sweaty hair.
“Evander,” Cyrus said gently, his brow furrowing. “It’s all right. We can—”
“I said don’t console me,” Evander snarled.
Cyrus lifted his palms. “Fine. I won’t. But you need to talk to me. Ever since Prue and Mona were taken, you’ve been… unwell.”
“No shit,” Evander snapped. “I wonder why.”
“Brother, talk to me. You can’t continue with this manic behavior. What happened to them was not your fault, and Mona wouldn’t want you to think that way.”
Evander shook his head violently, then spread his pearly wings. “I’m not doing this with you. Good luck with your useless schemes.”
He shot upward into the air, his translucent wings beating furiously as he flew away from the castle and out of sight. Cyrus watched his brother leave, his chest tightening with unease.
It was like this every day. Evander was unwell, but whenever Cyrus tried to talk to him about it, his brother fled.
Cyrus knew how it felt to feel frustrated and panicked without the one he loved. But this ran deeper than that.
Evander blamed himself. Cyrus could see it in the haunted look on his brother’s face.
But no amount of self-loathing would bring Prue and Mona back. If Evander was unwilling to think clearly, then Cyrus would have to be the levelheaded one.
How strange that their roles were now reversed. Ordinarily, Cyrus was more hotheaded and Evander was calm and collected.
But everything in the realms had changed. Cyrus had changed. And even if he could go back to who he was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“Cyrus,” said a voice.
He turned to find Lagos standing at the entrance to the training yard.
Cyrus strode toward him, hope and urgency pulsing within him.
With the head of a bull, Lagos’s expressions were impossible to read.
But there was something about the stiff set of his shoulders that told Cyrus something had happened.
“What is it?” Cyrus asked, his chest thrumming with anticipation.
Lagos took a shaky breath. “We found it.”
Lagos led Cyrus into the castle, up the stairs, and to the throne room. Cyrus let his gaze drift to the massive throne on the dais, his mind returning to that moment when he’d taken Prue right here in the throne room…
Despair twisted in his gut, but he forced it down. She isn’t dead. There is still hope.
In the center of the throne room was a long table where two other demons sat—Theo, a dark-skinned demon with a long, serpentine tail, and Maleck, a massive demon with pale skin and a single blue eye.
Sitting next to Maleck, his tongue lolling happily, was Cerberus the dog.
Eons ago, Cyrus’s father, Aidoneus had spread rumors of a terrifying three-headed beast, hoping to frighten enemies away from the realm.
But in truth, Cerberus was just an ordinary black dog.
Somehow, the canine had survived the destruction of the realm—likely because he possessed no magic and was therefore no threat to Pandora’s darkness.
The creature had taken a liking to the demons, particularly Maleck, who was scratching behind the dog’s ears.
Lagos, Theo, and Maleck were the three most proactive demons on Cyrus’s council. They had worked the hardest, sacrificing everything to track down clues for locating the Titans.
Cyrus could not have done this without them.
On the table sat the broken shards of a dish. As Cyrus gazed at the table, his heart sank with realization.
We found it, Lagos had said.
But he hadn’t sounded pleased or triumphant.
He’d sounded dejected.
“Shit,” Cyrus whispered as he drew closer to the table, running his fingers over one of the gray shards. These were the remains of the reflection bowl—an enchanted bowl of liquid that allowed one to see anywhere they wished in all the realms.
And it was broken.
“We found it on the outskirts of the Undead Wilds,” Theo said softly. “Apollo must have smashed it before the challenge.”
“Or one of the Titans,” Lagos speculated.
It didn’t matter who had broken it; whoever had done it knew that Cyrus would try to use it to locate the Titans.
And now he couldn’t.
What game were the Titans playing? Why smash the bowl and then tell him if he wanted to negotiate, he knew how to reach them?
What was he supposed to do?
He brushed his fingers over each piece, mentally conjuring the image he remembered of the reflection bowl. How big had it been?
“Is this every piece?” Cyrus asked, glancing between the demons.
“Yes,” said Maleck. “Every piece we could find.”
“Can it be repaired?” Cyrus asked.
Silence met his words.
“I mean, as an ordinary bowl,” he clarified. “If this were just a normal dish, could it be repaired?”
“Yes,” Maleck said at once. “We can fuse the pieces together.”
“Let’s try that, then.” Cyrus braced his hands on the table, struggling to maintain a calm persona. Inwardly, he was screaming and raging. This had been his one key to locating Prue. The one thing he’d known would work. “How long would that take?”
“We can have it done by tomorrow,” said Theo.
Cyrus nodded once. “Thank you. I appreciate all you have done.”
The three demons glanced among themselves. Theo and Maleck wore looks of surprise and the hint of pride. Lagos, as usual, had an unreadable expression. Cerberus wagged his tail happily.
“Is there anything else?” Cyrus asked. “Anything you’ve found, or any concerns you have?”
The three demons exchanged another look, this one full of hidden meaning.
Unease prickled along Cyrus’s skin. “What is it? You can speak plainly.”
For a moment, the demons said nothing. Then, Lagos murmured, “The people are… agitated. Restless. Many of them have already begun to mourn the loss of the Queen of the Underworld.”