Beacon
CYRUS
Cyrus’s blood was still humming from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His Titan magic flowed through him, sizzling with electricity that longed to be unleashed.
He had been ready to do battle, right there in that cave. A strange, savage part of him yearned to do it. To attack. To let loose all the pent-up rage and frustration that had been building since Prue was taken.
Now that the moment had ended, the energy pulsing within him had no outlet. No hope of release. It churned violently within him, gnawing and roaring, tired of being caged.
As he followed the witches through the tunnel, he curled and uncurled his fingers into tight, trembling fists. His breathing was erratic and shaky, and he focused on deep inhales.
This did nothing to calm his raging pulse. Gods, he felt ready to burst at any moment.
“How long have Romanos and Marina been gone?” Evander asked, his soft voice echoing off the cavern walls.
Cyrus wiped sweat from his brow and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and focus on what Farah was saying.
“A few weeks,” she replied. “And you should not refer to her as Marina here. She is known as a Gorgon sister, or Hestia’s chosen vessel.”
Cyrus’s brows knitted together. Who was this Marina, and why was she with Romanos? Were they romantically involved?
He shouldn’t have been surprised by this. After all, he and Evander had bound themselves to powerful earth goddesses. It only made sense that Romanos would also be drawn to a powerful woman.
“Do they know about the Titans?” Evander asked.
Farah was silent for a moment before responding.
The flame from her hand cast half her face in a soft golden light, illuminating the frown lines that marred her expression.
“They were not here when we sensed the Titans’ presence.
But I am sure the Gorgon sisters are aware of it.
A disturbance of that magnitude is difficult to overlook, especially by those with great power. ”
Great power. Well, damn. It was a shame that these Gorgon sisters weren’t available to assist them against the Titans.
Before he could think better of it, Cyrus asked, “If these Gorgons are so powerful, do they have a plan for eradicating the Titans? Or Pandora’s box? Surely there’s something they can do.”
He felt Evander stiffen beside him. He had probably crossed a line with his questioning. But he didn’t care. The fury pounding within him made him reckless.
Farah’s lips grew thin, and her eyes flashed with irritation.
She kept her gaze fixed forward as she continued moving through the tunnel.
“This may come as a shock to you, death god, but the Gorgon sisters have matters to deal with all over the realm. They are not merely weapons waiting to be wielded as you see fit.”
Cyrus rolled his eyes, knowing she wouldn’t be able to see it. “I never said such a thing. If the Titans’ presence is as monumental as you say, then surely the Gorgons intend to do something about it. I am merely curious.”
Farah huffed a wry laugh. “Curious to know if the Gorgons can be summoned to your aid, you mean.”
Cyrus did not deny it. It was no secret that he and Evander sought help in rescuing Prue and Mona.
“I do not know of their plans,” Farah admitted.
“They answer to a higher power than I am worthy of. But I know they care a great deal about this realm and its inhabitants. They were tracking down a pack of violent chimeras that had been terrorizing the human villages. I am sure that, once they return, they will develop a plan for the Titan… situation.” She heaved a sigh, then added, “But there is a limit even to their magic, death god.”
That wasn’t nearly as reassuring as Cyrus had hoped.
Evander nudged Cyrus’s elbow, then shook his head slightly. Let it go, he seemed to say.
Cyrus raised his palms in mock surrender. Fine, he would drop it. Clearly the Gorgons and these witches would be of no help to them.
That was fine. Cyrus was eager to take down the Titans all on his own anyway. His magic was ready for it.
The tunnel opened up to a massive cavern about the size of the throne room in the Underworld. Several witches in tan robes meandered about. There was a fire pit in the center, upon which rested a bubbling cauldron. Shelves had been built into the cavern walls, stocked with various jars and vials.
Farah spread her arm, indicating a tunnel across the cavern. “That will lead you out into the desert. But be warned, the dry heat can be quite brutal. We can supply you with waterskins for your journey.”
“Thank you,” Cyrus said, inclining his head to her. “Do you happen to have an idea of where in the desert the Titans might be hiding? Or where we should start looking? You are far more knowledgeable of this realm than we are, and we could use your expertise.”
Farah’s lips quirked in a knowing smirk.
“Flattery is a much better strategy for you, death god, but it does not work on me. Unfortunately, the Rhea Desert spans over a hundred miles, and I have no idea where the Titans might be hiding. There are likely various cave networks underground that we haven’t yet discovered, similar to this one. That is where I would start searching.”
Cyrus frowned. “With their explosive magic, I don’t think they would settle somewhere underground. The risk of tunnels collapsing would be too great.” He rubbed his chin, considering.
“It would be a place without magic,” Evander said. “A place where the blood of the gods is considered useless. Unseen by prying eyes and hidden from mortal minds.”
Cyrus’s head whipped toward his brother, his eyes narrowing. Those did not sound like Evander’s words at all.
Had he gotten this information from the Wild Spirits?
Farah’s brow furrowed, her gleaming eyes flicking from Evander to Cyrus and back again. This witch missed nothing.
After a moment, she said, “If it’s a magical void you seek, try the Ruins of Rhea. It was once a thriving city that was destroyed by the gods eons ago. Now, it holds no magic.”
Cyrus straightened, hope blooming in his chest. “That sounds like the place. Where is it?”
“Originally, it was ten miles south of Sodara. But since the gods cursed the village, it is… altered.”
Cyrus’s chest twisted with dread. “Altered how?”
“It changes and moves, depending on the magic around it. If the area nearby contains too much magic, the ruins will vanish and reappear in a place less saturated with energy.”
Cyrus let his hands fall against his thighs in exasperation. “How the hell are we supposed to find this place if it’s always moving?”
Farah’s nostrils flared, her eyes turning sharp. “Watch yourself, death god. I am not your enemy here. I am helping you as best I can.”
Cyrus closed his eyes and suppressed a groan. “You’re right. Forgive me. I am… merely agitated.”
“I can see that.” Humor laced her tone.
“How far do the ruins usually shift?” Lagos asked.
Farah paused, considering. “From what I understand, it is usually within a five-mile radius. But I could be wrong. We do not track these things.”
Lagos nodded, then turned to Cyrus. “If we can get close enough, I believe I can scent the Titan magic.”
“How close would we need to get?” Cyrus asked.
“A few miles, perhaps.”
Cyrus nodded. It might take them some time, but it was the best plan they had. “Which direction is Sodara?” he asked Farah.
“Northwest. Once you cross the dunes, you’ll see the city. Or, what’s left of it.” Her eyes turned grim. “The darkness from Pandora’s box has destroyed much of this realm.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Cyrus said, and he meant it. He had seen that darkness firsthand. He wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
“Farah, is there anything you can give us?” Evander asked, a pleading note in his voice. “A tracking spell? Some kind of potion or concoction? Anything you can offer would be greatly appreciated.”
Farah offered a sad smile. “Unfortunately, most of our spells can only be used by those who possess witch blood. But… if you are traveling to a land without magic, there are some elixirs we can give you that provide a short burst of power. Mind you, it is brief and not very strong. But it may give you the upper hand if the Titans are expecting to overpower you.”
Cyrus’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s quite impressive.”
“Your surprise is a touch patronizing, death god,” Farah said with a chuckle.
She waved down a blonde witch who stood by the shelves.
The witch approached, and Farah murmured something to her in soft undertones.
The blonde witch nodded, then returned to the shelves, gathering various vials in her arms.
Before she could return, a panicked shout erupted in the cavern, echoing against the walls. Three witches appeared at the tunnel leading to the desert, their faces pale and stricken.
Farah straightened. “What is it?”
“A beacon,” said one of the witches, breathless from her sprinting. “From the west. Fire magic.”
Cyrus’s blood chilled. The Titans?
Or… Prue?
“It was not one of ours,” said another witch. “I did not recognize the magic. But it was definitely a witch. Runic magic, maybe.”
“Mona,” Evander whispered, his eyes widening.
“It’s a call for help,” Farah said, exchanging solemn looks with Cyrus and Evander.
“Will you answer?” Cyrus asked. “Not for me—but for your fellow witches?”
Farah’s eyebrows flattened. “We do not interfere with the matters of Titans. It is too dangerous for my coven. We will point you in the direction of the beacon, but that is all. After that, you are on your own.”
Cyrus nodded. This wasn’t all that surprising. But he couldn’t pass up one last opportunity to try to sway her.
The blonde witch returned, then thrust several vials full of purple liquid into Evander and Cyrus’s hands.
“Shatter these, and they will provide you with a brief burst of power where you can access your magic,” she said, her voice faint compared to Farah’s firm timbre.
“But anyone nearby will also be able to summon magic as well, so be wary.”
“Thank you,” Evander said, shoving the vials in his pockets. Cyrus did the same, then accepted three waterskins from Farah.
“Show them where the beacon came from,” Farah instructed the still breathless witches. To Cyrus’s surprise, the coven leader put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “May the Goddess bless you in your quest, death god. I sincerely hope you are able to free your wife and her sister.”
Cyrus offered a half smile that didn’t feel very genuine. “Thank you for your assistance. I… apologize for my behavior. And my threats. I am not at my best today.”
Farah hummed with amusement. “I have dealt with your kind before, death god. Behavior like that is not surprising. But an acknowledgment and an apology is. So, for that, I am appreciative of you. And I wish you well.”
“Same to you.”
Cyrus, Evander, and Lagos followed the three witches toward the exit. A few steps later, Cyrus frowned and muttered to Evander, “Did you tell Farah that Prue was my wife?”
“No. Why?”
Cyrus glanced over his shoulder at Farah, who lifted her hand in farewell, her eyes glinting with amusement and an otherworldly look that made him believe she saw far more than he gave her credit for.
Cyrus shook his head and faced forward again. “No matter. Let’s focus on saving our goddesses.”
For the first time in days, they actually had a lead. And the prospect of being reunited with his wife was so real, so attainable, that Cyrus could almost feel her rushing into his arms.
Soon, my love, he thought. Soon, you will be free. Just hold on for a bit longer.