Page 10 of Salt & Blood (Ivy & Bone #4)

TRAITOR

PRUE

For days, Prue worked tirelessly alongside Gaia to strengthen her magic. After she had successfully turned the entire throne room into foliage, Prue had been so drained she had slept for seventeen hours straight. Once she’d awoken, Gaia instructed her to withdraw all the foliage and return the throne room to what it was before. Conjuring and diminishing were both important skills to develop.

She also worked Prue harder than ever. Each day, Prue summoned her earth magic, twisted it, shaped it, and worked on specific details according to Gaia’s instructions. Once she had succeeded, Gaia ordered her to siphon it all back, to erase what she had created, to recycle that energy to re-fuel her magic.

“In training, many gods and goddesses overlook the usefulness of building endurance,” Gaia told her. “You were exhausted after transforming the throne room. But after training with me, I can make you so strong that you could transform the throne room three times in one day with no fatigue whatsoever.”

The idea had been so appealing that Prue’s determination had bolstered her onward. But it hadn’t lasted long. She’d forgotten how ruthless her mother could be. Growing up on Krenia, Gaia had always been harder on Prue—because Prue was reckless and rebellious. Mona, however, had always been a star pupil, eager to learn and dive into her studies.

But Prue had wanted more. Adventure. Romance. Excitement.

Well, she had certainly gotten her wish…

The thought was bitter as she created vines of roses and draped them along the walls of the throne room. Her hair was matted and tangled, sticking to the sweat on her face. She hadn’t bathed in days. She didn’t even know what day it was.

Her thoughts were constantly on Cyrus. She hadn’t seen him since she’d offered him freedom.

Freedom from the Underworld.

From their marriage.

From anything to do with her.

She was a coward, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t bring herself to face him, not if his answer would be, Yes, I would be happy to leave and part ways from you forever.

“Excellent,” Gaia said, jolting Prue from the misery of her thoughts. “Now, transform those rose vines into jasmine.”

Prue said nothing, her hand automatically moving, fingertips fluttering over rose petals as she effortlessly changed each flower. The deep red velvety flower shrank to the tiny white sprouts of jasmine, the scent filling the room and tickling her nostrils.

“The grass at your feet,” Gaia said. “Change it to soil.”

Prue wordlessly obeyed. More sweat trickled down her face and neck, but she ignored it as she worked, immersing herself in her training, letting her thoughts dissolve into nothingness.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Gaia stood before her with a frown on her face. Prue’s hands remained outstretched, waiting for the next command.

“Prudence,” Gaia said. The impatience in her tone told Prue it wasn’t the first time she’d said her name.

Blinking slowly, Prue met her mother’s gaze. “What?”

“When was the last time you slept?”

“I sleep constantly. When I’m not training with you, I’m sleeping.”

Gaia’s frown only deepened. “You are wasting away, my darling. Tell me how I can help.”

“Bring my husband back.” The words left Prue’s mouth before she could stop herself. Her lips clamped shut, and her eyes closed briefly. “I’m sorry, I just…” She sighed. “I miss him. And I can’t force him to be who he was before. It will just take some adjusting, that’s all.”

Gaia was silent for a long moment. “Has he decided to leave you?” Her voice was quiet, almost gentle, which was rare for her.

“I don’t know,” Prue whispered. “I don’t think he’s decided yet.” Her eyes burned, and she dropped her gaze, instead focusing on the rich brown earth at her feet. Emotion welled up in her throat until she couldn’t breathe. “Goddess, I miss Mona.” Her voice was strained. At times like these, she always longed for her sister. They had shared everything together.

“She is alive,” Gaia said. “Don’t fear for her.”

Prue’s eyes flicked to Gaia. “How do you know?”

“A part of my soul is tethered to her, as it is to you. I know she is alive and unharmed, but that is all.”

Prue considered this. “What did you feel when she died? When she sacrificed herself to close that grimoire?”

A chilled silence fell between them. Prue tried not to think about the day Mona had given up her life to stop the dark magic from devouring their tiny island. It was why she had sought out Cyrus in the first place, why she had struck the bargain with him and bound them together—to bring Mona back.

“My powers were muted back then,” Gaia said. “But… I remember feeling a gaping emptiness. A hole that could not be filled. I thought for certain she could not return; that the sacrifice she had made would be permanent. I thought the powers binding that grimoire together would take her soul. But I was wrong.”

Prue nodded, remembering how adamant Gaia had been about keeping Mona’s soul where it was, lest her sacrifice be undone. Vasileios, Cyrus’s brother, had somehow managed to swap Mona’s soul with another to fulfill that sacrifice, stealing Mona for himself.

Goddess, that had been ages ago. So much had changed… Prue hadn’t even been to the Underworld yet when Mona had been resurrected.

“As an earth witch, I managed to bring her back,” Prue said in a hollow voice. “But as a goddess, I can’t bring him back.” A tear streaked a path down her sweat-coated cheek.

Gaia drew closer to her and clasped both her hands in hers. Her eyes blazed as she looked upon her daughter. “You are fierce, my child. A force to be reckoned with. You feel weak now, but this will pass. Remember who you are. You are a goddess. And you have an eternity of possibilities before you. For now, your misery seems endless, but I swear to you, it will pass. ”

Prue met her mother’s gaze as if seeing her for the first time. Tears sparkled in Gaia’s blue eyes, and Prue realized she was referring to Pandora. And after all this time, Gaia had still not been reunited with the daughter she had lost.

The knot in Prue’s throat only tightened, and she swallowed hard, the motion painful. “You need to go to her, Mama.”

Gaia blinked. “What?”

“Go to Pandora. You must see her. You’ve waited long enough.”

“Prudence, you need me here. ”

“We’ve trained for days. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. This magic”—she gestured at the foliage around them—“is effortless to me.”

“But we’ve only just begun. Apollo?—”

“Apollo is my fight. Not yours. You have your own battle to face.” Prue’s voice only strengthened as she spoke, a certainty burning within her that this was the right thing. “I brought Mona back without your help. I can do this, too.”

Gaia’s mouth twisted with uncertainty, and more tears brimmed in her eyes. “Prudence, I—I?—”

Prue stepped forward and embraced her mother tightly. “I love you, Mama. I will always love you. No matter what happens.”

Gaia squeezed her tightly. For a long moment, the two held each other, both reluctant to let go. But at long last, Gaia released her and stepped back, her face shining with tears.

“I am so proud of you, my darling,” Gaia whispered, touching Prue’s cheek.

Prue could only offer a watery smile. Gaia pressed a hand to her heart before turning and leaving the throne room. Prue watched her exit, and a shuddering breath escaped her. Gaia would no doubt make her way to the portal. She likely had enough magic to fuel it on her own.

And then she would be gone, leaving Prue to fight this war on her own. No Cyrus. No Mona. Only herself.

“That was very brave of you,” said a voice.

Prue whirled to find Apollo leaning casually against the wall, inspecting the jasmine that surrounded it. “Or perhaps very foolish. It depends on how you look at it.” With one finger, he lifted the tiny petal of the white flower. “Very creative, what you’ve done here. I like it.”

Prue crossed her arms. She did not have the energy for this. “What do you want, Apollo?”

“I wanted to introduce you to a guest of mine, and the first official member of my court here in the Underworld.” Apollo stretched his hand toward the open doors as a figure appeared.

A foul and familiar scent assaulted Prue’s nostrils, and she recoiled, eyes flaring wide. She knew that scent. It reminded her of the day Pandora’s box had been opened. In her mind, she saw a tall, smirking figure, urging her not to open the box.

Kronos.

Her blood chilled as she backed up until she hit the wall. Terror and panic seized her, forming a vise around her heart.

But the figure who appeared was not Kronos; it was a man with dark skin, a shaved head, and piercing black eyes that seemed to peer into Prue’s very soul. He was tall and so muscular, she felt he could wrap two fingers around her throat and strangle her in one swift movement.

Prue wet her lips and shot an uncertain look at Apollo.

Apollo smiled widely, the expression almost catlike. “Prudence, please meet Hyperion. He was an apprentice of mine long ago.”

Prue’s chest constricted even further until she couldn’t breathe.

No. No, no, no.

“Hyperion,” she repeated, staring at the stranger. “You’re—You’re?—”

“A Titan,” Apollo supplied, his grin widening.

Prue looked at Apollo in alarm. He couldn’t be serious. “How? It’s impossible for a Titan to be here. They are currently bound in Tartarus.”

But Prue wasn’t completely certain of this. After Pandora’s darkness had destroyed the realm, were the restraints of Tartarus still active? Or were the prisoners of Tartarus now freed?

Before Apollo could respond, more footsteps echoed, and another figure appeared. This one elicited a strangled whimper from Prue as she felt something inside her crack, then shatter.

It was Cyrus, and he wore a look of boredom and apathy on his face. “Yes,” he said idly. “It would be impossible—without my help. You see, dear wife, I brought him here.”