Page 31 of Leda’s Log (Legion of Angels #13)

THE PYRAMID

P alak, 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.

“A pyramid?” I stared at the enormous, pointy-topped building in front of us.

“Yes, they are all over these parts,” Faris told me. “The top is merely decorative. The most interesting parts are below ground.”

He was right. When we entered the pyramid, there wasn’t much to see except a big, empty, stone chamber of nothing and a staircase leading down. We opted for the staircase. It continued down, down, down…and then split? There were now three staircases, each leading down in a different direction.

Sierra stood there for a moment, then declared, “This way.”

We followed her lead, hoping she was right. None of the rest of us could sense the ring at all.

“Stop,” she said many twists and turns later, when we finally reached the bottom.

“What is it?” Nero asked her. “Is the ring close?”

“Yes, very close now,” she said. “But first we have to get past that.” She pointed at the long, empty hallway that stretched out before us like an underground tomb.

Sierra bent down, filling her hands with dirt. The dirt was dry and loose, a soft powdery sand that had accumulated on the ground over many millennia. She flicked the sand in front of her, illuminating a web of crisscrossing lasers.

“Sensors.” She squinted at the walls. “But where are the traps?”

“Let’s not find out,” Nero advised her. “Best to avoid the sensors altogether.”

She nodded in acknowledgement. “Right.” She frowned.

“I can take the lead,” Nero offered.

“No, I can do this. I just need to see the pattern again.” She grabbed two more handfuls of dirt and tossed them to reveal the pattern once more. “Right. I’ve got it now.”

“In that case, after you.” Nero extended his arm in front of him, indicating for her to go first.

Sierra led us through the web with the grace of a dancer and the composure of a soldier. I was so proud of her—and so terrified for her. She was twelve. It just wasn’t normal for twelve-year-olds to spend their days bypassing boobytraps inside ancient pyramids in search of magical treasure.

“Well done, Sierra,” Grace told her when we’d all made it through safely. “Such a well-considered, orderly solution to the problem.” She stole a glance at me. “So unlike your mother.”

“Thanks, Grace,” I said with a tight smile.

Whereas her smile was radiant, genuine, and one hundred percent victorious. “Oh, you are very welcome, Leda.”

Damn it. You’d think that after all these years, I would have learned not to thank a deity. Like angels, they took the words as an admission that you owed them a favor. And they didn’t consider sarcasm an adequate excuse to discharge you from that favor either.

Well, there was nothing I could do about it now except grin and bear it—and hope that future favor didn’t bite me in the ass.

“Sierra learned from the best,” I said, smiling at Nero.

In so many ways, she really was just like her father.

“Yes, well done, Sierra,” Faris said as we approached the underground treasury. “I knew there was a reason you were my favorite grandchild.”

“I’m your only grandchild,” Sierra pointed out.

Faris shrugged off her comment. “You will always be my favorite.”

“Well, you’re not my favorite grandfather.”

Faris’s smile faded. “You prefer Damiel Dragonsire,” he cut out.

Sierra shrugged. “Grandpa Damiel treats me like a person, not like a weapon.”

I grinned at Faris. “See? I told you she noticed.”

“This is all your fault,” Faris snapped at me.

“Me?” I pointed at myself. “What did I do?”

Faris opened his mouth to deliver what was sure to be a very eloquent, very scathing review of my numerous sins, but Sierra cut him off before he could even begin.

“And besides, Grandpa Damiel makes the best pancakes.”

“Pancakes?” Faris spluttered in disbelief. “Your loyalty can be bought with pancakes ?”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d ever tried Damiel’s pancakes,” I told him.

His eyes narrowed. “You are not helping, Leda.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, looking up at Faris. The psychotic god had knocked me down.

“What the hell?—”

Something green and spiky burst out of the ground. Right where I’d been standing a moment ago.

I jumped to my feet as more spiky green things shot out of the ground. They looked like plants…like weeds. Except there weren’t many weeds that could walk on their leaves like they were legs, spit thorns out of their mouths, and fire baseball-sized seeds like they were torpedoes.

“Nightshade monsters,” Nero said, setting his blade on fire.

“Nightshade monsters?” I asked. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Nasty creatures,” he told me. “They prefer darkness and solitude. They must have taken over this pyramid sometime during the centuries since it was abandoned. Watch out for their seeds.” He pulled me out of the way of a projectile seed.

“If even the smallest fragment of one finds its way inside your body, it will take root there.”

I took his warning seriously. I had no intention of being turned into a plant.

“Arrr!” Sierra shouted, charging like a berserker at one of the monster plants.

She moved swiftly and surely, grabbing the plant by its leafy top.

The monster wiggled furiously, struggling to free itself, but Sierra was having none of that.

She used her fist to thump it on the head.

She must have found the sweet spot because the monster spat out a seed.

A calculating smile curled Sierra’s lips, and maniacal laughter burst out of her mouth.

She turned the monster on its leafy brethren and fired.

The plants shrieked in terror and fled the seedy bullets. Sierra tossed the struggling creature in her hands at the others, bowling them down. They all scattered, shrieked some more, then dove back into the ground.

The hall fell silent. Everyone stared at Sierra.

It was Grace who spoke first, though it was more laughter than words that came out of her mouth. “Splendid!” She clapped her hands. “Marvelous!”

“Abhorrent.” Faris’s words sliced through Grace’s laughter like a hot knife. He didn’t have any appreciation for dirty fighting. “And undignified. I don’t even need to guess who taught her to fight like that .” His gaze cut to me.

“Sierra truly is the daughter of order and chaos,” Grace said brightly.

“Indeed,” Faris replied, and there was nothing bright about his tone.

I stood with Nero just inside the vault chamber, watching Sierra move about the room, searching for the ring.

“It is here,” she muttered. “Or it was here. Maybe both…”

“I’m worried about her,” I said to Nero.

“Sierra is strong.”

“I know.” I took a measured breath. “But she shouldn’t have to be.”

“I found it!” she declared, holding up the ring in victory.

An invisible force sucked me and Nero out of the room. We slammed into Faris and Grace.

“What happened?” Faris demanded, jumping to his feet.

The door to the vault slammed shut.

“Sierra’s trapped in there!” I ran to the door and tried to pull it open. It wouldn’t budge. “Sierra!”

“Mom! Dad!” Her voice cried out from the other side of the thick door. “The door won’t open! Get me out of here!”

“Something is blocking my magic. I cannot teleport into the vault,” Nero said. “Can you teleport out of there?”

“No! It’s not working for me either! Nothing is working!” Panic gripped her voice.

“Stand by,” Nero said, projecting calm.

A beastly, primal howl came from the vault. My heart stopped. And Sierra screamed.