Page 125 of Monster Mishap

FORTY-TWO

Bathing pits are a great place to land

DAISY

Traveling through whatever spell Zyla crafted is possibly the most horrific thing I’ve ever experienced. My body is thrashed around from side to side until I’m suddenly dropped. My stomach jumps to my throat as I plummet through the iridescent aether of the magic. I brace for impact, expecting to land somewhere in Edgar’s home, but I’m dropped right into hot water.

My dress floats up around me, and I accidentally inhale. I choke and kick my way toward the surface. Breaking through the water, I hack and gag, grasping for an edge or something to hold on to. My fingers find purchase on smooth stone, and I pull myself toward the edge, blinking as the water drips into my eyes and burns as it mixes with the kohl eyeliner. It takes a minute to get enough bearing to realize I wasn’t sent to Earth.

This is Orcus’ cave.

I pull myself out of the water, staggering to my feet as my dress clings to my body. I’m lucky I was wearing a silk dress. Had it been the other one, I don’t know if I would have made it to the surface. A cool sweep of air rushes through the cave and gooseflesh ripples down my arm. I shiver and strip out of the dress, draping it over the table to dry before cleaning the ruined makeup from my face. Wrapping the oversized towel around me, I pace the floor, trying to get my panic flutter in my gut under control.

The good news is I’m still in this world.

The bad news is I’m so far from the castle and without Harald, I don’t know that I remember the way to get there.

The king did this.That bastard. What a selfish asshole. I turn and pace in the other direction, huffing and shaking my head. I’ll kill him myself. Well, probably not, but I’ll yell at him, and Orcus will definitely consider killing him so it’s essentially the same thing.

Things could be worse. I found a way to get to the castle and I’ll do it again. I can do this. I’m not helpless, at least, not entirely. If only I had the charm Callum had made. It’s safely tucked away in the jewelry box back in our suite at the castle.

Crap. Zyla. The king got that spell from her, but she definitely wouldn’t hand it over willingly. She couldn’t scour his mind. He probably paid some other magical person to give him protection against scouring. With the royal coffers at his hand, the king could pay for a lot of magic. I swear if he hurt her… no. I can’t think about that. I need to stop wasting time and get moving. I’ve already wasted who knows how much time. How long does a transport spell take anyway?

I scrub the towel over my hair and toss on one of Orcus’ shirts, using a strap of leather to cinch it around my waist. I dry off the sandals and slip them back on. Digging through Orcus’ chest at the end of the bed, I search for a weapon he might’ve left behind. He had taken so many with him when he left me here.

“Aha.” I snatch the tiny dagger from the bottom of the chest. It’s probably the most I can handle without accidentally hurting myself. I grab the leather sheath for the weapon and attach that to my makeshift belt. “All right. I can do this. All I have to do is get down the mountain without running into a cyclops.”

I glance toward the hall that leads to the cave’s entrance. My heart skips. I’ve barely escaped twice now and I doubt I’ll be able to do the same for a third time, but I’ll damn well try. I don’t know what story Orcus’ father painted. My mate has to know I wouldn’t leave on my own.

Determination floods through me and the bond tugs at me. The bond! With how jarring the magic had been, I’d forgotten all about it. I reach for Orcus. Anger. Sadness. Fear. My breath shakes as I exhale.

Fuck.

I try to push some reassurance toward him. There’s a flare of interest, but it’s quickly replaced with rage. Whatever he thinks, it’s bad. I have to get back to him. Shoving away from the chest, I march down the hall and toward the entrance.

The cyclops can go screw itself.

* * *

The cyclops,in fact, didnotgo screw itself. I duck, barely missing the giant wooden bat. I’m getting really fucking tired of being a baseball. By the light of the full moon, I’m sprinting down the rocky mountain side, and the cyclops is barreling after me. You’d think I’d have learned by now. In my defense, it’s not like I planned to end up back in the cave and based on its busted face, it’s the same Cyclops Prometheus and I encountered.

“MINE. MINE. MINE.”

“You have a serious problem!” I scream back.

The bat whizzes over the top of my head, far too close to making contact. I squeal and try to run faster, but the sandals aren’t exactly marathon ready. My toes curl in to try to keep them on. One misstep has me tripping and stumbling into the side of the mountain. The rocks tear at my skin but I don’t even care.

I whip around, holding my hands up. “Nice cyclops,” I whisper as it stomps toward me.

“My mountain,” it growls, pulling the bat back and preparing for a home run.

Side-stepping, I move as fast as I can along the mountain. Jagged edges scrape and dig, but that minute pain is worth dodging that bat. It crashes into the rock hard enough to launch stone shrapnel into the air.

I turn my head away and keep moving. My heart slams against my ribcage and my entire body trembles. I’m not making it out this time. This is how I die. My stomach clenches as I chance a glance and see the cyclops already swinging. I’m not far enough away and he’s too close.

I’m dead.

Bludgeoned to death by a monster with a mountain kink.

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