Page 17 of Salt & Blood (Ivy & Bone #4)

ECHOES

MONA

Mona’s blood turned to ice from Midas’s words. Demons were coming. For a moment, she stood there, frozen in place, terror numbing her completely.

Why? Why were they here? What were they after?

Most demonic creatures are drawn to power, she thought, remembering what she had studied. She lifted her hands, which were caked in dirt, and stared at them in horror.

Her power must have drawn the creatures here.

This was her fault.

She barely registered Romanos surging forward and asking the king, “Where is Marina?” His voice was full of furious desperation.

“The Gorgon sisters were called away,” Midas said as he slid several daggers into his belt. “Harpies were spotted in the southern edge of the jungle.”

Romanos swore and ran a hand through his hair.

They were alone. The Gorgon sisters weren’t here.

Somehow, the notion cleared Mona’s thoughts, chasing away her fear. No one was coming to save them.

They had to save themselves.

“Salt,” Mona said, turning to King Midas. Urgency pulsed in her veins, driving her to action. “I need salt. Do you have any?”

Midas shot her a bewildered expression before his eyes grew wide with awareness. “Ah, yes! Salt wards off demons.”

Mona’s head reared back. How did Midas know that?

To her astonishment, the king put his gloves back on and withdrew a small pouch from his belt. He tossed it to a nearby soldier. “Sprinkle this on the floor as fast as you can.”

“No, it’s too late for that,” Mona said quickly. “They’re coming for us. For me. But we need to contain them here where we can kill them.”

Midas spread his arms, gesturing to the large, earthen throne room. “This is an underground palace. To draw demons here could destroy these tunnels.”

Mona shot him a fierce look. “Better to destroy the tunnels than the entire community of witches here.” She looked at the soldier. “Sprinkle the salt on the outskirts of the throne room. Keep the demons from reaching any of the other tunnels.”

The soldier blinked, uncertain, as he glanced between Midas and Mona.

“You heard her,” Midas snapped, waving a hand in irritation. After a moment, the soldier darted away with the pouch of salt in his hand.

“You keep a pouch of salt on your person?” Mona asked, still confused by this.

“I do.” Midas looked over Mona with more scrutiny, as if he hadn’t noticed her properly before. After a moment, he handed her a dagger, hilt out.

Mona’s stomach twisted, and she shook her head, backing away from the blade. “I’m no warrior, Your Highness.”

Midas laughed and slid the blade in his belt with the others. He slid off his gloves once more. “Your demonstration from earlier would suggest otherwise. But perhaps you’re right. Your magic alone can do enough damage.”

“And what about your magic, Your Highness?” Mona’s eyes dipped to his gloveless hands, which still glowed gold.

Midas’s eyes darkened, all humor vanishing from his face. “It is a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse. But in this case, I can do some damage as well.”

Curiosity nibbled at the corners of Mona’s mind, but she stifled it, knowing there were more important matters at hand than scrutinizing Midas’s magic. Her gaze swept over the room, which was in a frenzy. Guards were arming themselves, just like Midas. Romanos accepted a blade from someone, then tossed another to Evander, who caught it by the hilt. Mona’s heart seized in her chest at the uncertainty in Evander’s eyes as he lifted the blade, as if weighing it in his hand. It was clear he knew how to use the sword, but he was uncomfortable with it. He, too, was accustomed to relying on his magic.

But in this case, he couldn’t.

Mona stared at her own hands, remembering the ease with which she’d healed Pandora. She looked at her sister, who was standing in the middle of the room, arms folded across her chest and face pale with fear.

Mona strode to her sister and touched her shoulder. Pandora jerked, as if startled from her thoughts.

“Are you all right?” Mona asked.

Pandora rubbed her arms, then shook her head. “I’m not—I can’t—” She broke off, her eyes fluttering closed. “I can’t believe it’s him . I can’t believe he’s our father.”

Mona flinched at the reminder. The horror that had spread through her—knowing that vile god was her own flesh and blood—made her want to retch. She cast a thoughtful look on Pandora. “How did you not know?” Her words were gentle and not accusatory.

“How could I have known?” Pandora asked, voice rising. “I’ve lived in the Underworld my whole life.”

“Yes, but… you studied Apollo. You knew him well because you wanted to take your revenge on him. I would think…”

Pandora’s expression crumpled into a pained grimace. “Gods, you’re right. You’re right. I should have known. I just—” She heaved a sigh and ran a hand through her dark red hair. “I didn’t want to know. I liked to think my father was Jupiter or Hermes or some other god who had passed long ago. The idea that my father was out there somewhere and didn’t want me was… too painful to consider. It was already too much for me to think of my mother abandoning me.”

“She didn’t abandon you,” Mona said at once.

Pandora shot her an incredulous look. “You don’t know that.”

“I know her. And she didn’t abandon you. Apollo was the one to place the curse inside you. I know Gaia would have done everything in her power to try and stop him.”

Pandora’s eyebrows lowered. “You may think that. But I don’t. From my experience, the gods wear many different faces. I believe Gaia wore the face of a doting and loving mother while she raised you. But it was only a mask and nothing more. None of us can know her true nature.”

Mona wanted to argue this, but the protest died in her throat. Because hadn’t Gaia lied to her for years, making her believe she was nothing more than an ordinary earth witch? Gaia had worn different masks. The mask Mona was accustomed to was the mask of the Mother of their coven in Krenia. And she was still coming to terms with the fact that that was not her mother. At least, not entirely.

The ground trembled, the walls shook, and more dust and dirt rained down from the ceiling.

“Sentries!” Midas bellowed. Several soldiers hurried toward the tunnel where Mona and the others had come from. “I need to know what we’re dealing with and how close they are.”

“It’s a hydra,” Evander said. His voice was so quiet that for a moment, Mona wasn’t certain he’d spoken at all. But his eyes were distant and unfocused, his expression hard.

Mona’s skin tingled with awareness as she gaped at Evander. How did he know that, if he had no magic?

Midas faltered, glancing warily at Evander. “Come again?”

Evander’s eyes cleared, and he stepped closer to Midas. “It’s a hydra. It must have escaped from Tartarus when the Underworld fell.”

Mona’s heart dropped like a stone. “ A hydra ?” she repeated.

Another deafening boom shook the ground, this one so violent that Mona toppled over, barely stopping herself from falling on her face. Palms out, she landed on the soft earth, then scrambled to her feet, trying to quell the quivering fear that wracked her body. Her mind flitted through every book she’d read about hydras. Multiple heads. Two heads would grow back if one was cut off. Serpent-like body. Often frequented marshes before it was captured and thrown in Tartarus.

Marshes. Mona shook her head in confusion. If it preferred the water, why was it here in a coven of earth witches?

Right, she thought, her stomach sinking with dread. Because of me.

A soldier rushed into the room, stopping to bow quickly to King Midas. “It’s a hydra. My men caught sight of it less than a mile from here. Our blades do nothing to its flesh, and we were careful not to remove any of its heads.”

Midas nodded, expression grave. He was gazing at his own hands in contemplation.

“Your Highness, if you get too close to it…” The soldier trailed off.

Mona knew what he’d been about to say. If you get too close to it, it could tear you apart. A hydra was known for its sharp teeth, which were strong enough to tear through flesh.

Mona was grabbing Pandora’s hand before she knew what was happening. Pandora yelped in surprise but allowed Mona to tug her forward until the two sisters stood before the king.

Mona lifted her chin, trying to project more confidence than she felt. “We can provide a distraction so you can get close enough to touch the hydra.”

Pandora shot a bewildered look toward Mona.

Midas glanced between them, eyes narrowing. “You just told me you were no warrior. Do you really expect me to believe you can get close to this beast without faltering?”

“We don’t need to get close to it,” Mona said. “All I need is enough power to trap it with my vines.”

Midas frowned, considering this.

“Your men can flank it on the opposite side,” Mona said. “Attack it on both fronts, while you slip into its blind spot, undetected.”

Midas’s dark eyes took on a hungry gleam. “You know, for a woman who doesn’t know battle, you certainly strategize like a captain.”

“If this thing has multiple heads, then it won’t have a blind spot,” Pandora pointed out.

“Under the belly,” Mona and Midas said together.

Pandora looked at Mona as if she had grown two heads. “Who are you? How do you know all this?”

“I read a lot,” Mona said with an embarrassed chuckle.

An earth-shattering crash echoed through the room as something large shoved through the ceiling. Rocks and dirt fell around them. Mona lifted her arms over her head, and a magical dome of protection surrounded her and Pandora. Squinting through the particles in the air, she looked up, and her stomach roiled.

A gray, clawed foot protruded from the ceiling. It was half the size of Mona’s entire body. Her pulse quickened, and she suddenly felt like she might be ill.

“It’ll bring the whole cavern down!” someone shouted.

Mona’s eyes widened. Without another thought, she stretched her arms toward the creature’s foot and pulled .

Soil and rocks fell, but Mona’s magic absorbed it all, catching each piece before it fell to the ground. The hole around the monster widened, and the chandelier shattered. Mona widened her shield so the shards bounced off it. Sweat beaded along her brow, and then a hand was gripping her arm.

Pandora. She offered Mona a sure nod before stretching her other arm toward the ceiling, pulling the creature down.

“What the hell are you doing?” Midas roared.

Mona couldn’t see him through the dust around her, but she shouted back, “If I can control its descent, I can ensure the rest of the cavern remains intact! Once it’s dead, we’ll rebuild it! This way is safer.”

She interpreted Midas’s silence as assent, so she continued drawing the earth downward. Her magic swept up each piece of dirt and dust that fell, but the strain of controlling so much falling debris made her arms tremble.

“A little further,” Pandora assured her.

Mona’s vision darkened, but she nodded, gasping for breath. She struggled to focus, to home in on that beast’s gray, scaly flesh as it sank lower and lower. An almighty screech filled the air, making the walls tremble again.

At long last, the hole was big enough, and the hydra fell to the earth before them. Mona tugged Pandora backward before they were crushed by it. Goddess above, it was massive. Bigger than Mona’s home back in Krenia, the beast had five heads, each one resembling a large snake. The scaled body stretched behind it on four legs, with a long, barbed tail swishing on its end.

“Seal it in!” Mona cried.

She and Pandora sent their magic toward the gaping hole in the ceiling, filling the gap with the powers of the earth. The energy shifted around them as the hydra whipped its heads toward them, drawn in by their magic. Crimson eyes flared wide with interest, locking onto the two sisters. Mona pushed and pushed, even as the beast drew closer with another screech.

Then Evander was there, sword slicing into the creature’s side. Black blood oozed from the wound, and the hydra staggered backward, its heads now craning toward Evander.

“No!” Mona screamed as the beast drew nearer.

Evander dropped his sword and stretched his arms wide. Something silver and transparent flared behind him, and Mona’s breath caught in her throat. Even the hydra staggered backward in alarm.

Behind Evander, spreading outward from his shoulder blades, was a gleaming echo of the dark wings he used to have—like a translucent replica of his demonic form. Mona’s eyes widened as she recognized the small horns atop his head, also silver, like a ghost.

He looked just like when he and Typhon had merged, only this time, his wings and horns and claws were sheer like glass.

Evander’s wings beat, and he rose into the air, hovering until he was at eye level with the beast.

“Is that—” Pandora whispered, following Mona’s gaze.

“It’s Typhon,” Mona breathed, jaw slackening in shock. “But… a ghost.”