Page 64
Story: Leda's Log
“I have spieseverywhere.”
“I’ll bet,” I said with a forced laugh.
“Don’t be so bitter,” he said. “This would all be a lot easier if you remembered we are on the same side, Leda.”
“Are we? With the way you act, it’s so easy to forget. I’m on the council too, you know.”
His wry smile was immediate and not at all unexpected. “Which is why I’m sure you would have called a meeting to report the ring’s theft to the rest of us.”
I smiled back. Hard. “Just as I’m sure you always share everything relevant you learn with the council.”
Faris folded his hands together. “Naturally.”
I snorted in disbelief.
I didn’t trust my parents, but I did trust that they wanted to keep Sierra safe, even if only to use her for her powers. So in the end, we all agreed to work together to retrieve the ring.
CHAPTER 6
THE PYRAMID
Palak, the world Sierra had seen in her vision, was a complex, variable world with even more ecosystems than Earth, but you wouldn’t know it from where we were. We’d teleported into the middle of a dense rainforest. Trees, trees, and more trees stretched as far as the eye could see, and they all looked exactly the same.
“It’s that way,” Sierra declared.
“That’s what you said two hours ago,” Faris chided her. “Are you quite certain you know where you’re going?”
“Tracking magic artifacts isn’t like plugging in a lamp, Gramps,” she shot back. “It’s a multistep process. I have to narrow down the location, step by step.”
“And how long will these steps take?”
“As long as they need to. What’s the hurry? I’m sure a great and powerful god like you has mastered the art of patience by now.” She smirked at him.
Faris glowered at her, but he said nothing more. And we all continued our trek through the forest. It was hot. And humid. Water pooled inside the broad leaves. It was dripping down the tree trunks. It was dripping down me.
Wait, no. That was just my own sweat. I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. I was boiling in my tank top and shorts. I could only imagine how Faris felt in his suit of crimson armor. Or Nero in his thick black armor.
“Yes?” my husband asked me.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“If it’s only nothing, why do you keep looking at me?”
“Because you’re hot.” I winked at him.
“Hmm.”
“I was referring to your body temperature.”
“Of course you were, Pandora.”
A shrill, inhuman cry sliced through the canopy. Faris drew his sword, which, unsurprisingly, was a perfect match to his armor. Blood-red.
“Take it easy,” I said. “It’s just birds.”
“There are creatures far worse than birds in these woods,” Faris replied, his words clipped. He kept his sword primed and ready.
Despite his dire warning, we didn’t encounter any creatures—birds or otherwise—for the next hour. What we did find was far more interesting.
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