Motive
TRIVIA
Trivia tried to free herself from the darkness, but Pandora’s magic was stronger. The goddess’s laugh sounded in her ear, and Trivia closed her eyes, picturing her tranquil beach. She saw the rolling ocean waves, the glittering sand…
And then, Pandora’s face appeared, blocking her view of the coast.
Trivia yelped, her eyes opening as darkness consumed her once more.
“Silly child,” Pandora crooned. “Your mind belongs to me. Nowhere is safe for you.”
Trivia gritted her teeth, remembering what Midas had told her. I am more powerful than I think, she told herself.
She imagined her construct again, more detailed than before. The briny scent of the sea. The wind whipping against her face. The heat of the sun beating down on her. Sol’s laughter amongst the waves.
For a moment, Trivia was there, her bare toes wiggling in the sand as she drew in a breath that tasted of saltwater and sunshine.
She was here. She focused on the acute sensations of her body in the construct, then projected them forward. The tide rolled in, covering her feet with cool water. It rolled over more and more sand, drifting closer to the hills beyond the shore.
More, she urged. More.
Trivia envisioned Pandora on the beach with her. She pictured the waves crashing over the goddess’s form.
A grunt sounded nearby, and Trivia’s eyes flew open. Pandora was on her knees in the sand next to her, the waves rolling toward her.
“No!” Pandora seethed.
In an instant, the vision changed, returning to darkness once more.
“Two can play at this game, girl,” Pandora spat, her voice dripping with venom. “Now, it’s my turn.”
The darkness bled away to something new: the ruins of a broken city. The white chunks of marble and shattered blue shingles told her exactly where this was—Amara, the human village in Elysium.
What was left of it.
A lump formed in her throat, and Trivia inhaled a shuddering breath. If Pandora was trying to torment her with these visions, it wouldn’t work.
Voices drifted closer, and Trivia went rigid. She recognized the male voice immediately.
Sol.
No, please no, Trivia thought, slamming her eyes shut before she had to look at him. The yearning already coursing through her was so painful it was unbearable.
“I’m not leaving,” Sol was saying. “If she comes back—”
“She is not coming back,” said another voice. This belonged to Gaia. “The sacrifice she made was permanent. It cannot be undone.”
“Can’t you just… bring her back? You’re the goddess of life!”
“It isn’t that simple. She can be brought back, but only under certain conditions. For one thing, she is not dead. She still lives. I cannot resurrect someone who hasn’t died.”
Pandora’s chuckle echoed around Trivia. “You see why letting you wither away and die would be far too dangerous? No, you must live, child. Live with your consequences. Live with your guilt and regrets. Suffer as I suffered—chained to an existence you would give anything to be free from.”
A tear spilled down Trivia’s cheek as she opened her eyes at last, her gaze locking onto Sol. He stood in front of Gaia, his arms rigid and his expression hard as stone. Gaia’s arms were crossed, her eyebrows drawn together.
Sol was fighting for Trivia. He was waiting for her.
“This war is bigger than us, Sol,” Gaia said. “There are others who need our help.”
“No one needs me as much as she does,” Sol said, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “You can leave if you must. But I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, little god,” Pandora taunted, her voice full of savage delight.
She was standing next to Trivia, her eyes glinting as she watched the scene before them.
“Stay here in this broken realm. Urge Gaia to leave you. Then, you will be free for the taking. Defenseless. Powerless. No one will save you.”
Panic pulsed in Trivia’s chest. “No. Pandora, don’t—”
“I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me,” Pandora hissed. “This is your doing.”
“No!” Trivia shouted. She tried to picture her construct again, but Sol spoke, his voice drawing her back in.
“I know you have other daughters who need you.” Sol’s voice was gentle. “You can go to them. I will remain here. It would be better if someone looked after the realm.”
Gaia’s lips thinned, but her gaze was hesitant. She was considering his suggestion for her to leave.
Don’t do it, Mother, Trivia pleaded, begging the goddess to hear her. Please don’t leave him. Without your earth magic, he can’t fight off Pandora. Please!
“Very well,” Gaia said at last. “I will travel through the portal. But if you sense the darkness from her box coming for you, you must leave. Trivia wouldn’t want you to get yourself killed because of her. You must live, otherwise her sacrifice will have been for nothing.”
Sol’s nostrils flared, and his eyes sparked with rage. But Trivia knew him well enough to sense the despair etched into his expression. He was in pain.
She had caused that pain.
“Sol,” Trivia whispered, desperate for him to hear her. But she was only a spectator in this vision. She wasn’t really here at all.
No matter how much she yearned to be.
“Ah, you miss him, don’t you?” Pandora’s tone was mocking. “Let’s reach out to him, shall we?”
She flexed her finger, and tendrils of shadow crept along the ground toward Sol’s foot.
“Don’t!” Trivia shrieked, grabbing Pandora’s wrist.
But the goddess only smirked as the shadows receded. “I’m not stupid enough to snatch him right in front of Gaia. But… how about just a taste?” With her other hand, she curled two fingers inward. The shadows reached for Sol, brushing the back of his calf.
Sol stiffened, then glanced behind him. But Pandora’s shadows had vanished. Sol’s brow furrowed, and he frowned slightly before facing Gaia again.
Do something, Trivia ordered herself. Do not let this happen!
But gods above, it was so damn hard to pull herself away from Sol. She could watch him for hours, drinking in his form, his eyes, his voice… She missed everything about him.
Focus! she screamed at herself. You are stronger than this. You can overcome this.
Trivia pictured her construct again. The gleaming waves. The white sand. The blazing sun.
The vision of her beach appeared, drowning out Sol and Gaia. But the image flickered, then vanished.
Trivia’s construct wasn’t strong enough.
She let out a stifled shriek of rage and frustration, while Pandora merely laughed.
“Don’t you wish you were as strong as me, child?” Pandora teased. “I’ll admit, I did think you would last longer than this.”
Trivia’s hands curled into fists as she watched Gaia stride toward the portal. No, no, no…
How could Trivia overcome this if Pandora’s magic was so much more powerful?
With a gasp, she suddenly recalled what Midas had told her: Your personas may have split when her box absorbed you. But your souls are still connected. I can sense the tether between you two.
Did that mean that Trivia had access to Pandora’s magic, too? If Trivia could reach the arsenal of power flooding from the goddess, she could use it against her.
Trivia took a deep breath and closed her eyes again. Instead of picturing her own construct, Trivia summoned Pandora’s. The veranda appeared, the white curtains drifting in the wind, the turquoise waters rippling beneath the sun.
Then, just as Midas had coached her, Trivia projected the vision forward.
She focused on her pain, her anguish, her longing for Sol.
She channeled those torturous thoughts she often shied away from.
Her instinct was to cringe, to hide, to bury herself from the emotions that were so potent and so cutting.
But she didn’t. She pulled on them, drawing them to the surface.
Pandora appeared on the veranda beside her, her eyes wide with alarm. “What are you doing?”
Trivia didn’t answer. She kept digging, summoning more grief, more misery, more heartache. Her chest twisted, and she hunched over from the force of the emotions barreling through her. Gods, it was so much. She couldn’t breathe…
Beside her, Pandora groaned in pain, clearly weighed down by the same thing.
Their souls were connected. Trivia’s pain was Pandora’s pain.
“Bitch,” Pandora seethed. “You can’t win this. I am… stronger.”
Trivia gasped for breath, her lungs struggling to draw in enough air. But a bolt of satisfaction flashed through her. She could win.
But she would have to give up everything. There would be no escaping this.
If their souls were still connected, then the only way for Pandora to truly die… was for Trivia to die, too.
Gaia can bring me back, Trivia thought, clinging to that hope. I know she can.
But a small fear crept into her mind. What if Gaia didn’t know? What if Trivia died, but her mother never found out? If she didn’t realize Trivia needed to be brought back, then Gaia would do nothing.
Besides, Gaia mentioned there were certain conditions. And Trivia would bet she didn’t meet those conditions. She was not selfless like Mona and Prue. She did not deserve a second chance.
That’s all right, she thought, feeling a modicum of peace as she accepted her fate. If it brings down this wretched goddess and the darkness of her box, then I will do it.
So, Trivia kept pushing. She tugged on those memories, the sights and sounds she missed so much. Sol’s laughter. His moans of pleasure. His barbed insults.
She conjured more, digging into the far recesses of her mind. The affectionate look in Gaia’s eyes. Prue’s smile. The way Mona had forgiven her, standing by her side no matter the horrid things she’d done.
“Gods, stop it, stop it!” Pandora screamed.
Trivia fell to her knees. Hot liquid dripped down her face, and she realized her nose was bleeding. But she pushed on. She would not stop.
She would give it all up.
“If you don’t stop,” Pandora rasped, “then he dies.”
Trivia blinked, her vision blurry, as she raised her head. Pandora was on her knees, too, but Midas lay next to her. Pandora’s hand was wrapped around his throat.
Trivia went perfectly still. “You don’t… have the strength… to kill him,” she gasped.
“Are you willing to bet his life on that?” Pandora’s face was pale, but her arms did not shake like Trivia’s did. A small smile lit the goddess’s face.
Trivia swallowed hard, her body spasming from the intensity of her emotions. “He’s dead anyway,” she said. “Once you die… so does everything… in the box.”
Pandora’s smile widened, and she shook her head. “You’re wrong. Midas is an exception. He has power. Wards. Enough to protect himself when the box shatters.”
Trivia blinked. She was lying. She had to be.
But… it made sense. If anyone could shield himself from the fallout of the box’s destruction, it was Midas. He was certainly smart enough to figure out a way.
And he did have power. Trivia had seen it firsthand.
Trivia’s arms shook, and she collapsed, face-first onto the ground. Her breathing was shallow and harsh. She wouldn’t last much longer.
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t save him.
“Such a shame,” Pandora whispered. “He worked and fought so hard to be free of his curse. I suppose he’ll never know what an uncursed life is like.”
A choked gurgling sound made Trivia lift her head, staring in horror as Pandora began to choke Midas. His face turned red. Then blue.
Trivia didn’t think. A sudden burst of strength coursed through her.
With a roar of anger, she lunged for Pandora.
They collided. Pandora’s grip loosened on Midas’s throat.
Trivia rolled, taking the goddess with her.
Her fingernails clawed at Pandora’s face.
Pandora’s fist connected with Trivia’s jaw.
But Trivia had something more powerful. She had her magic. And she had Pandora’s, too.
With one last push, Trivia managed to shove Pandora into the concrete floor of the veranda, her hands pressing into her face. Pandora struggled fruitlessly, arms waving, hands scrambling.
Trivia called on her pain, projecting it onto Pandora until the goddess went limp.
Then, she summoned her earth magic.
The concrete floor cracked. Vines snaked forward, wrapping around Pandora’s wrists like chains.
Pandora screamed. “No! Stop it. No!”
Trivia tasted blood in her mouth. Her ears were also bleeding. Her heart seized in her chest, squeezing and squeezing. She felt faint. Darkness crept into her vision.
She was dying.
But she didn’t care. The goddess would die with her.
With one last shout, Trivia gave up everything, shoving her power into Pandora. She held the goddess still, ensuring she felt the full force of the blow.
An earth-shattering blast shook the walls. The construct vanished. The ground rumbled. Power exploded around them, ricocheting and bouncing as the darkness trapped inside the box swarmed. It was as if the magic had a soul, a mind… and it knew the end was coming.
Screams echoed in Trivia’s ears, mingling with her own. A funnel cloud of magic appeared, barreling toward her. The storm raged. The wind whipped at her.
But Trivia only smiled, because she had won.
She poured every ounce of her strength into the destruction of Pandora and her darkness. Drip by drip, the essence of her soul—of Pandora’s soul—vanished.
The darkness let out a shrill, broken cry. The funnel cloud faded. The wind died.
And as the last dregs of life bled out from her, Trivia slumped over, finally giving in.
She had won.
It was over.
She gave herself up to the darkness.