Page 43 of Salt & Blood

Herpower 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. Forme.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 aboutyourmagic, 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’shim. 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.

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