Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

LYRE

"What …" Clio's voice was a faint, shocked whisper. "What is this place?"

Lyre wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her moving forward. Her face was ghostly pale. Blood drenched the strips of fabric wrapped around her arm, but he didn't have the time or magic to heal her wound.

"This," he answered, "is Hades's biggest secret."

It wasn't a room so much as a cavernous chamber of stone and steel, the rough walls supported by lines of rusting pillars. A handful of iron doors were embedded in the rock on one side, but it was the structure dominating the space that held Clio's attention.

Steel beams and heavy cables in coiled bunches formed two towers twenty feet apart. Between them, a band of bluish-green light crackled and danced like arcing electricity.

The light reflected across Clio's disbelieving eyes. "Is that ley line energy?"

He nodded as he steered her past the towers, giving them a wide berth, then pushed her into a jog. As they headed into the pitch-black emptiness of the chamber's farthest end, he glanced back, searching for Dulcet. Lyre didn't believe for a second that his explosive spell had permanently incapacitated his brother.

"How can there be ley line energy down here?" Clio demanded, clutching Lyre's arm. "Why is it going through that—that machine? How is it even possible to?—"

"Can we talk about it later?" he asked, increasing their pace. The cavern's back wall loomed, a darker shadow in their path. "I have no idea how long before Dulcet?—"

A metallic bang reverberated through the chamber. Lyre jerked to a stop so fast that Clio fell. He couldn't pause to help her as he spun around.

Dulcet charged toward them, moving unnaturally fast. Shimmering light coated his legs—a speed-enhancing weave.

Lyre snatched three arrows from his quiver and nocked one on his bow, the other two arrows pinched against his palm as he drew the string back. A pulse of magic down the shaft activated the spell on the head, and he loosed the arrow.

It shot through the darkness, hit Dulcet directly over the heart, and shattered against his defensive shields.

Lyre nocked the second arrow, activated the spell, and loosed it. Dulcet laughed as the spell hit the exact same spot and splintered in the exact same way. He stormed toward Lyre, closing the distance fast.

Flipping up the third arrow, Lyre activated the spell, took aim, and shot again. The bolt flashed across the mere twenty feet between them, struck Dulcet in the same spot for a third time, and lodged in his chest. Light flashed across the shaft, and electricity erupted over Dulcet's body. He crashed to the ground, convulsing and paralyzed.

Sticking around to kill him was too risky when their older brothers or father could appear at any moment. Lyre grabbed Clio's arm and hauled her up again, already running for the back of the cavern.

"You hit the same spot," she babbled. "Three times!"

Lyre shook his head. Trusting his protective weaves, Dulcet hadn't tried to evade. It might have taken three bolts to do it, but Lyre had developed his shield-piercing arrows to break through any magical barrier.

Lyre cast a small light to illuminate their path, though he knew it would make it easier for Dulcet to chase them down—assuming he could still run. The cavern wall loomed, rising fifty feet before it was lost in ancient stalactites.

"A dead end?" Clio whispered in horror.

"No, this way."

Lyre yanked her to the left and there, ahead of them, was an irregular opening: the entrance to the underground cave system. They ran into the tunnel.

"Where does this go?" Clio asked, panting for air. "What's down …"

They whipped around a bend and her voice died, her question left unspoken—because the answer was obvious.

A streak of rippling green and blue light danced along the cave floor, following a jagged wall for ten yards before disappearing into solid rock. Various contraptions and machines straddled the ley line, and cords and cables ran back into the main chamber.

"What's wrong with it?" Clio asked haltingly.

The line's energy, which should have felt like a warm, rushing river of power, stuttered and buzzed like flames in a downpour. A blaring tone, almost too high-pitched to hear, scraped at the inside of Lyre's skull.

"It's unstable here," he explained, guiding her past the undulating light. "We have to go deeper. The line continues farther down."

"A ley line beneath Asphodel." She clutched his arm, breathing hard and struggling to keep pace. "And Hades knows it's here?"

"I told you I know too many secrets to ever leave this place."

Her fingers dug into his arm, and she reached into the fabric belt around her waist. Her hand reemerged holding a small fabric bag—one he recognized.

"Here," she said breathlessly. "You'll need this to travel the line."

He grabbed the bag and pulled it open with grateful urgency. He dumped a dozen sparkling diamonds charged with magic reserves into his palm. His fingers clenched around them, and he drained the power into his exhausted body. It burned, too much at once, but he embraced the pain as strength filled him.

For the first time since Dulcet had hit him with the death spell, he felt steady. Not at full strength, but no longer on the verge of collapse.

He shoved the empty lodestones into his pocket and took Clio's arm again. They followed the twisting cave around another bend, and the gurgle of flowing water joined their thundering footsteps and labored breathing. A narrow river flowed alongside the uneven cave floor, its surface black.

Fifty yards ahead, the ley line emerged from the rock and crossed the cave, stopping at the river's edge. It rippled and danced, beckoning them closer. Escape. All they had to do was reach the line, and they could jump between worlds.

With his arm around her waist and her arm hooked through his, they ran side by side for the wall of light. Its warm, rushing energy whispered across his senses.

An ugly stutter cut through the flowing energy.

Dulcet burst out of the line, blood running down his chest and his black eyes blazing with triumph. Lyre skidded, dragging Clio to a stop, unable to believe what he was seeing. Dulcet had jumped down the line—using the unstable patch hooked up to the experimental machinery. Was he insane?

Of course he was. Lyre already knew that, but he still wasn't fast enough to cast a shield.

Dulcet's blast slammed into Lyre and Clio, hurling them backward. Lyre hit the ground hard, his bow flying out of his hand. It clattered on the stones as he rolled to a stop, ribs aching and lungs empty. His quiver fell off his shoulder as he shoved up onto his knees and looked around wildly for Clio and Dulcet.

A second blast struck him in the side, and he was airborne again. But this time he didn't land on a rocky floor.

He plunged into icy water and accidentally swallowed a mouthful. Flailing as the sluggish current dragged him away from the rocky ledge, he kicked violently, pushing himself toward the shimmer of light that marked the river's surface. His head broke free and he gasped for air.

Clio was screaming.

Her cries echoed off the walls, magnified and full of terror and pain. The sound tore through him like a knife, and he lurched toward the rock. Grabbing the edge, he heaved himself out of the water.

Clio's scream cut off with terrifying abruptness.

Lyre staggered up, slipping on the wet, rocky ground. Twenty feet away, Dulcet crouched over Clio. He held her by the front of her shirt, watching her slack face with rapturous intensity.

Lyre couldn't save her with any of the spells on his chains. He needed a weapon, but his bow and quiver were out of easy reach.

But those weren't his only weapons.

Dropping glamour was only too easy. Strength saturated his tired muscles as he pulled a throwing knife from the sheath on his forearm and flung it at Dulcet.

Lyre expected the weapon to bounce off Dulcet's shields. Instead, it impaled Dulcet's side.

Dulcet shouted in pain and shock, dropping Clio. Surprise cut through Lyre too. He had damaged one spot in Dulcet's shield, but the rest of it should have been near full strength.

His gaze darted to Clio, slumped on the ground, unmoving. Had she broken Dulcet's weave while Lyre was underwater?

Dulcet yanked the blade from his side. Lyre plucked a second dagger from its sheath and threw it. Dulcet flicked his fingers in a simple cast, knocking it out of the air, but Lyre was already charging in after it. Out of glamour, with his full strength to aid him, he flew across the distance and slammed his fist into Dulcet's face.

Dulcet staggered back, then his body shimmered as he too dropped glamour. His hair paled closer to white, glistening radiantly in the dim light, while his face changed for the worse—sallow and gaunt like a corpse. But his smile was as deranged as usual.

Lyre threw another punch, and Dulcet caught it. For a moment, they stared at each other with equally black eyes.

Magic burst from them, casts and shields flying as fast as their blows. With unbridled violence, they hammered on each other, too close to use weaves or lodestones. Lyre drove into his brother, pushing him farther and farther from Clio, who still hadn't moved. Dulcet snarled, feet digging into the floor.

Lyre swung his fist, coated in magic. Dulcet threw up an arm, the limb shielded, and Lyre hit the barrier in a golden blaze. Dulcet staggered backward, and Lyre thrust out his hand, magic sparking over his fingers.

His palm hit Dulcet's sternum—no shield between his blast and his brother's chest. Dulcet crashed to the floor. For an instant, Lyre was confused as to why Dulcet hadn't shielded against that blow.

From the ground, Dulcet grinned as he grabbed the chain of spells around his neck, and Lyre realized his mistake.

He launched forward, but it was too late. With the time and space to use a lodestone, Dulcet activated a skintight shield spell to replace the one Clio had destroyed. Lyre skidded to a stop, reaching for his own chains, but Dulcet was already lunging up. Another gem flashed.

A wave of shimmering golden force rammed into Lyre. He sailed through the air, hit the ground, and tumbled to a painful halt.

"A good fight, Lyre," Dulcet called. "By what method would you like to die?"

Lyre shook his head, struggling to focus his eyes and unsure if all his bones were still intact. Laboring for every breath, he pushed onto his knees. His brother stood remarkably far away. Lyre had been blasted halfway to the ley line.

Dulcet sorted through his chain of spells. "I'm feeling rather generous since I get you and the girl, so I'll let you choose how you'd like to meet your death."

A few feet away from Lyre, his bow lay on the rocks, miraculously in one piece. Three yards behind him, Clio was still unconscious. Lyre glanced back at the ley line, measuring the distance, then stretched his arm out and grabbed the bow. Muscles twanging with pain, he staggered to his feet.

"Oh?" Dulcet smiled. "You still want to play with me?"

Lyre reached over his shoulder. All his arrows were safely lodged in the quiver, held in place by a spell that kept them from falling out. His fingers brushed across the fletching.

"Really, Lyre. You already know a single arrow can't break my shield. And this time I won't let you keep shooting me." Dulcet plucked a gemstone off his chain. "This one, I think. I'll get to hear your screams for quite a while."

Lyre drew an arrow with black fletching from his quiver. He laid it against the bow, cradling the shaft between his hand and the leather-wrapped grip. Dulcet raised his arm above his head as light flashed over his gem. Magic erupted around him, spiraling out from his feet in blades of red-tinted gold.

"You can't defeat me, Lyre," Dulcet cackled as the weaving blazed even brighter. "You're too soft and timid. You've never woven a truly destructive spell in your life."

Still laughing, Dulcet wiped his fingers across his bleeding side, painting his skin red. He clapped his bloody hand over the gemstone he held, and the blades of magic flashed from rose to eerie crimson.

"You won't even weave blood magic!" he trumpeted.

Lyre lifted the bow, and as he drew the string to his cheek, he pulled it farther than necessary—pulled it until the arrowhead cut into his hand. As he flooded the arrow with magic, he brought the bow back to proper draw and aimed at his brother.

The pointed tip, glistening with his blood, glowed crimson.

Dulcet's triumph faltered as he stared at the arrow—and realized how wrong his last statement had been.

Lyre relaxed his fingers and the arrow snapped away. It flashed across the distance between them, speeding toward Dulcet. Crimson light blazed as the arrow reached him, then it blasted onward down the long cave, unhindered.

Dulcet stood for a moment longer, jaw hanging open and arms still raised as though unable to comprehend the gaping hole in his chest where his rib cage had been.

Lyre whirled around, already running as his arrow hit the cave's far wall.

The detonation screamed back up the tunnel, and the floor bucked. Red blades of power launched in every direction, slicing through stone like butter. Lyre stumbled and fell as the first concussive wave slammed across him, but he sprang up. It wasn't over yet.

He snatched his fallen quiver and threw Clio over his shoulder, then bolted for the ley line.

The howling explosion charged after him. Giant chunks of stone plunged into the river and crashed down all around him. He pushed even harder, the line so close, so close!

The blast hit him in the back, throwing him forward. Green light filled his vision, and the line's warmth engulfed him. Rock screamed above his head, and the cavern ceiling dropped in a wave of crumbling earth.

Casting a shield over Clio, he flung them both into the screaming oblivion between worlds.