Page 77 of Summer's Seduction

“No?” Larkspur repeated.

“The war has already begun. We must leave now, or all is lost.”

“We still have hours before sunrise,” I said. “Artemis and Hecate were clear that we were to wait until dawn to attack.”

“Ares made the decision,” Psyche said. “And Typhon will need time to settle into his new home.”

Meeting Larkspur’s perplexed look with one of my own, I dipped beneath the clouds to spot the creature, only to find him already in flight—and headed straight toward the caves.

“The huntress—” Larkspur started, but a pegasus took flight in the next breath, its rider with her bow drawn and arrow notched. She let her enchanted arrow fly, the silver tip pinging off the black and red scales of Typhon’s mighty wings as if it had been made of straw. “I need to keep you safe, Psyche.”

“The safest place for me is to be at your side while we confront Hypnos and the others.” Larkspur looked ready to protest, but Psyche continued before she could. “There’s no time, sister. She’s wielding his bow, and War is brandishing his spear.”

Something twisted in my chest at seeing and feeling how worried Larkspur was for her sister. I’d been prepared for physical wounds, for Psyche to be sick and close to death or still plagued by my father’s slumber magic, but apart from the peculiar nuances, Psyche appeared healthy.

“She’s been right so far,” I said.

Larkspur hesitated a moment longer, watching Typhon’s obsidian wings snap closed as he landed on the very spot we’d spent the last two days.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Let’s go to war.”

LARKSPUR

Morpheus flew south, battling through the snow ravaging The Echoing Mountains until the worst of the clouds broke. My stomach fluttered as a vast pine forest stretched out beneath us. The valley was shrouded in a heavy layer of mist, the combination of the two awakening feelings of comfort… almost like I was coming home.

Despite being unable to see the forest floor, I knew there was a freshwater river beyond that clump of rocks peering up among the mist. Just as I knew, if you walked south for another twenty minutes, you’d come to a massive den along a rocky cavern where the largest family of chimeras slept.

“The Nightmare Kingdom,” Morpheus said. I had no doubt he felt the torrent of emotions whirling within me. “And The Scarlet Palace.”

My attention snapped up, and I focused on the grey ruins. Glints of ruby stones were beneath the thick coating, almost as if a heavy layer of dust had settled.

“Is that snow?” I asked, already knowing it wasn’t but unable to figure out what it could be.

“No, little monster,” Morpheus said, his voice soft. “My parents burned every being who was loyal to The Strix family. You’re seeing what remains of their ashes.”

Bile burned the back of my throat as I took in how large the palace was. Entire walls had been leveled, and more than one tower had fallen, but it must have taken tens of thousands of dark ones to leave a stain that large.

I’m sorry.Morpheus’s unspoken words flitted through my mind, more feeling than anything, but he wasn’t the one who’d committed this atrocity.

“There,” Psyche said, pointing to the southern end along the slope of the hill. Her voice still held the same musical quality, but the pitch had shifted a little, returning closer to how I remember her. She’d always been a little different, able to see things others couldn’t, but this Psyche was almost dream-like.

Morpheus flew us closer toward the stirring mist and clash of steel. It was difficult to make out who was who. The wind blew, shifting a cloud in the night sky to allow for the moon to cast light on the carnage below.

Souls battled one another along the clearing that had once been the castle grounds. Bodies clashed as each sought to heed their lord’s call to war.

An orange glow stood out among the mist. Horses that looked to be crafted from fire pulled a steel chariot containing The God of War. Ares hurled his spear, the gilded tip glinting in the starlight before skewering his next victim. The impact split the chest cavity wide open as it spliced through the body before sticking in the ground. With a feral war cry, he plucked the bloodthirsty spear from the earth as the horses circled, readying for his next throw.

An army of souls was at his back, most of whom looked as if they crawled here through the ice and snow. I narrowed my eyes, seeing blacked fingers among the broken and bleeding bodies.Ares led an army of traitors, who probably had transversed The Underworld from Cocytus at his command. Their wails pierced the sky, feet worn to the point of bone, and still, they moved, forced under the thrall of The God of War.

Souls containing a faint golden shimmer met their strikes—the spirits of Elysium. And there, leading the charge on a chariot of gossamer pulled by skeletal horses shrouded in shadows, was Hades. The ground beneath him was streaked in black as he wielded death magic like an avenging whip, snapping the moaning souls under Ares’s control in half with a single blow.

“The portal,” Morpheus said, angling toward the patch of wavering sky hovering feet over the edge of a cliff. “Only a few can pass safely at a time. If we position ourselves on the ledge, we can cut off any others from joining Ares.”

“It’s too late,” Psyche warned.

I opened my mouth to protest but promptly closed it as Hermes flickered into being with The Caduceus in hand. She met my narrowed gaze from across the way, offering a mischievous grin in return before tapping The Caduceus to the wavering air.

It began to shimmer, silver light swirling until it formed a smooth plane.

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