She struggled, but Cassia had caught her by surprise, and she was strong, her magic centuries old. Lyric could feel power honed by grief and rage flowing through the web. Lyric’s head spun, her vision narrowing, her limbs growing heavy as the venom took hold.
Cassia leaned close, her breath warm against Lyric’s ear.
“I’m sorry, old friend. But you’re too clever for your own good.”
Lyric tried to speak, but her tongue was leaden. She felt herself being dragged, her body limp, her mind swirling in darkness.
Her last conscious thought was of Athena—alone, betrayed, and in mortal danger.
Cassia worked quickly. She dragged Lyric’s cocooned form into the deepest tunnels, where the air was thick with old webs and older magic, shoving her through the wards and webs in with the two other prisoners. Then she dug through the bag Lyric had been carrying. “Reading my ass,” she muttered as she found what she’d hoped was inside. Cassia checked the phone. There were two unsent messages to Nico, one with photos of the ledger. Cassia deleted them, her hands steady, her expression calm.
She typed a quick message to Nico, mimicking Lyric’s clipped tone:Change of plans. Can’t make it to the airport. Too risky. I am shocked, but the evidence speaks for itself. The king and queen of KOS cannot be permitted to stay in power. I’ll be in touch.
She tucked the phone into her own pocket and turned to the ritual chamber, where Mei and Neru were waiting.
“It’s done,” she said softly. “Prepare everything. We will need Roan at full power, as well as Lyric. So reinforce the web, but do not use any more venom, and make the wards stronger. We begin at dusk tomorrow. That will give Nico enough time to inform the shaman council of Athena and Aurelius’s treachery. And right before we start the transition, we can get Roan’s shirt, which I can then turn into the council when they come to do a full investigation, implicating the royals in Roan’sdisappearance as well.” Cassia sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. “I’m ready for this to be done.”
She found Dax at the entrance to the prisoners’ cell, his face pale. He looked at her, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” he whispered. “Not the animus part. That is non-negotiable. But setting up Athena for a death sentence? She was your friend, Cass.”
Cassia’s jaw tightened. “Shewas. But she’s not anymore. Not after the pain I suffered because of what they took from me. I have been playing a role for centuries, biding my time. And now it’s here.”
Dax nodded, silent. Cassia turned away, her heart a knot of grief and rage.
The cell was cold—bone-deep, teeth-chattering cold. The air was thick and musty, each breath scraping like sandpaper and never quite full enough to satisfy her lungs. Lyric drifted awake by slow, miserable degrees, her body heavy, mind foggy, as if she’d been swimming in syrup and lost the will to reach the surface. She tried to move, but her limbs were locked down in sticky webbing, the skin beneath burning with the telltale tingle of venom. Her mouth was impossibly dry, every swallow sharp as if she were downing gravel for her meal.
She forced her eyes open, blinking away the haze, and took in her surroundings. The cell was little more than a shallow alcove carved from the stone, the floor and walls layered in silk so thick it almost looked like snowdrifts. Lyric herself was cocooned upright against one wall, arms pinned tight at her sides, legs immobilized.
As she turned her head further to the right she saw a large form wrapped in more webbing. And the little bit of the side of a face she could see was Roan. He was cocooned tightly in silk, slumped protectively around a much smaller form. His breathing was shallow, but even in the gloom, Lyric could see his jaw flex with stubbornness.
“Roan,” she croaked, voice rough. “You alive, you stubborn brute?” He didn’t stir so she tried again. “Roan,” Lyric snapped. “Wake up you lazy, waste of shaman space and explain how the hell you managed to get yourself captured.”
His eyes fluttered, focusing on her slowly, like he was fighting through a nightmare to reach the waking world. “Lyr-ic?” The word was sluggish, thick with exhaustion and something else—something unnatural.
She exhaled in relief. “Yeah, it’s me. You look like hell.”
A hoarse, humorless chuckle. “Feel worse.”
Lyric’s gaze swept over him, taking in the unnatural pallor, the sweat on his brow, the way his head seemed too heavy even for his broad frame. “That’s venom in the webbing, and some wards. Cassia’s got us wrapped up like leftovers. Have you been down here since the day you texted me?”
“Yes, though I don’t know how many days that has been.” His gaze flickered to the figure bundled in with him. “People keep coming and checking on us. Making us drink something—sweet. It’s just enough to keep us somewhat nourished.” He shook his head, as if to clear it. “Cassia? As in the queen’s advisor?”
Lyric’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, the one and only, and she’s feeding you spider venom. Itisjust enough to keep you nourished, yes, but more importantly, subdued and sedated. And you’ve been down here for going on five days. Roan, is that Maddie?” She tilted her head towards the smaller form wrapped against him.
The person in question stirred, attempting to shift in the webbing, but was only able to turn her head. For the first time, Lyric got a proper look—at the young woman, maybe twenty, the small amount of hair that stuck out from the spider silk was tangled, while wide, wary eyes peeked out from Roan’s protective bulk.
Roan’s expression changed, a flutter of possessiveness flashing through the haze. He angled his head down slightly as if to shield the girl—from her?
Lyric arched a brow. “Well? Since when do you play bodyguard to humans, especially non-animi?”
Roan tried to clear his throat, but it came out as a cough. “To answer your first question, yes, this is Maddie. I was bringing her to you.”
“And the second?”
“None of your business,” he grumbled.
“When are you ever going to learn to be nice?” Maddie asked, her glare disapproving.
