Runes
MONA
The sisters had discovered a cracked lantern in the closet, which they had broken apart to use the base as a cup to hold Prue’s blood.
Mona had found a loose floorboard and managed to wriggle free a nail to carve into Prue’s arm.
They made sure to draw the blood near her shoulder, in a place that wouldn’t easily be visible to the Titans.
It wasn’t easy, collecting the amount of blood they needed.
Mona had to dig the nail deep into Prue’s flesh, carving a wider gash to allow the blood to flow.
And after it was finished, Mona insisted on waiting to properly bandage it with a strip of cloth torn from her tunic before they continued with their plan.
Through it all, Mona was determined. She felt capable and steady. She knew this would work.
But uncertainty clouded her mind as soon as Prue rose from the cot, smoothed her palms over her skirt, and announced, “All right. I’m ready.”
Panic and terror welled up in Mona’s chest at the thought of her sister offering herself as bait to the Titans.
Oh Goddess, Mona thought. I can’t do this. It’s not going to work. It isn’t going to be enough, and the Titans are going to kill Prue.
She jumped to her feet. “You can’t.”
Prue’s brows knitted together and she faced Mona. “I have to. Their magic is strong here, Mona. They’ll know what we’re doing… unless they have something to distract them.”
Mona gripped Prue’s arm tightly. In a whisper, she said, “They don’t need both of us as leverage. If you anger them, Prue… I’m afraid they’ll kill you.”
Prue’s eyes softened and she gathered Mona in her arms, crushing her in a tight embrace. “They need me,” she murmured, “because I’m Cyrus’s wife. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Prue’s grip loosened, but Mona clung to her even more tightly, trying to prolong their embrace. She didn’t want to let go.
But she had to.
At long last, she released Prue and offered a sure nod. Before Prue left the room, Mona grabbed her hand. “Be careful, Prue. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Prue snorted. “When have I ever?”
Mona could only roll her eyes at that.
Prue eased the door open and crept down the stairs. Mona moved to the door, intending to close it, but she couldn’t help but linger at the doorway, listening. Prue’s voice drifted up from below.
“I need to speak with Hyperion.”
Mona winced, knowing the Titans would not like what came next.
Prue intended to confront Hyperion—to tell him off for what he did to her in the Underworld and during Cyrus’s challenge.
She intended to pick a fight with him.
And if the other Titans wouldn’t let her see him, she would fight them instead.
Either way, it would not be pretty.
So Mona had to hurry.
Her palms began to sweat as shut the door and carefully set the bowl of Prue’s blood on the small table by the window. With the nail from the floorboard, she pried one of the window panes loose. She and Prue had practiced this earlier to ensure they would have a way to shoot fire into the sky.
Mona’s hands shook as she gently eased the window pane onto the cot, careful not to drop it.
That was just what she needed—for a loud shattering sound to alert the Titans.
A cool breeze wafted into the room, but it was full of rot and decay and lacked the familiar earthy scent Mona had grown to love.
She wrinkled her nose, then focused on the cup of blood.
She had to get this exactly right.
But Goddess, so much was on the line. When Mona studied spells and runes for her own pursuits, it was easy to memorize and absorb information. But here and now, with Prue’s life at stake…
Her hands shook even harder. Her heart pounded so loudly she couldn’t breathe.
Focus, Mona, she told herself. You are not a coward. You can do this. Prue trusts you.
Mona only wished she trusted herself as much as Prue did.
Clearing her throat, Mona waved her hand over Prue’s blood and whispered, “Excito.”
The air hummed, but the sound was stilted and strained. A mere whisper of the power she was accustomed to. Unease swirled in her chest, but she shoved it down deep. She knew this would be different. She had to push through and trust the magic.
Closing her eyes, Mona murmured the incantation. “Muros finire. Et magicae gratis.” She flexed both hands over the blood, her fingers curling into a shape that resembled elongated claws.
Magic hissed around her, but when she opened her eyes, the pool of blood remained unchanged.
“Shit,” she whispered. The energy in this place was so stagnant that even her ordinary witch magic couldn’t get through without a struggle.
As if this spell weren’t complicated enough.
Mona cupped the broken lantern between her palms and screwed her eyes shut once more. Digging deep into the power source of her entire being, she said the words in a low, ethereal voice. “Muros finire. Et magicae gratis!”
Her voice rose with each syllable, the words ringing around her. The glass in her hand heated, making her skin hot. She chanted the words over and over, pushing through the pain as the heat of Prue’s blood scorched her skin.
From downstairs, Prue’s shriek echoed. Mona’s voice faltered, and the cup of blood cooled.
Dammit. She closed her eyes and refocused, then repeated the words of the spell once more. Despite every ounce of fear within her, every facet of terror at the thought of what Prue was doing to buy her time, Mona homed in on the singular task of spell-casting.
Say the words.
Offer the blood.
Let the Triple Goddess do the rest.
“Muros finire. Et magicae gratis.”
The words poured from her lips. The air buzzed and crackled with electricity. The walls began to shake.
Someone shouted from downstairs. It wasn’t Prue.
Prue’s voice followed, a shrill shout.
Something shattered. Heavy thumps followed.
Sweat dripped down Mona’s brow. She spoke the words faster, more urgently.
A violent churning encircled the small room, whipping at her hair and tickling her skin.
Her third eye opened, and Goddess above, it was the most peculiar sensation.
What had once been second nature to her now was foreign and unfamiliar.
She had relied so much on her goddess powers that she had forgotten how it felt to sense magic with her third eye.
With a gasp, Mona’s back arched, magic coursing through her. Something cracked in the air, and a burst of energy whooshed around her like a tornado. She inhaled a rattling breath, and for the first time since she’d arrived here, she finally felt as if she could breathe normally.
There was magic here once more. True magic.
A slow smile spread across her face. She set down the broken lantern, which was now empty, and lifted one hand in front of her face. A tendril of thorny vines appeared, wrapping around her palm and encircling her fingers like an embrace. It was as easy as breathing.
More crashing from downstairs instantly sobered her.
Mona stumbled over to the open window, then used a broken shard from the lantern to slice into her palm.
With blood running down her hand, she whispered, “Accendo.” She flexed her fingers toward the sky, and a coil of flame sliced through the air like an arrow.
When it reached the clouds, it exploded like fireworks, shooting in different directions.
Pop.
Pop.
Bang!
One by one, the sparks burst in the air, growing louder in succession.
Shit. Mona’s heart dropped to her stomach like a stone. She hadn’t meant to put that much power into the spell. She’d become accustomed to the stale magic in the air that she hadn’t held back anything.
It had been too much. Too visible. Too loud.
She prayed to the Goddess the fire witches would see that and come quickly.
Because the Titans certainly would have noticed. Not even the most violent distraction from Prue could have prevented them from seeing that explosive display.
Sure enough, thundering footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Mona uttered a squeak of alarm before darting across the room, flattening herself against the wall behind the door. In her chest, her heart thundered madly.
The air suddenly crackled and went still. A stifling, crowded feeling suffocated her throat and chest, making it hard to breathe. Fatigue spread through her, making her form droop. Her head felt cloudy and incoherent.
The Titans’ wards were back in place. Which meant her powers were gone.
And the amount of energy it had taken to cast those two runes was dragging her down, down, down…
Fresh panic bloomed inside her, making her dizzy. Dread and despair coiled around her like serpents, freezing her in place.
Then the door burst open.