She took the opportunity to study her surroundings.
Cyane lay on a soft, plush bed in the middle of a room that could’ve been part of a cave. It resembled much of what she’d seen so far: black and gray jagged walls with pillars of gleaming, wet obsidian-like rocks throughout. Candles flickered weak golden light, giving the room a homey yet obscured look and casting deep shadows in the farther recesses of the room, making it appear larger than it really was.
A hearth was along the same wall as the bed; no fire burned within. Perfectly designed furniture, seemingly made from the rocks of the cavern themselves, were positioned throughout. They were ornate in a way of smooth designs, which was the only detail that differentiated them from the cave itself. The furniture and bedding were covered in swaths of deep purple and black linens.
A smaller room lay across the way, much like the room she was in. Although a deep stone basin rested in the middle of it with what looked like steam rising into the air. She could smell something floral and clean, reminding her of bath oils and Epson salts.
Countless stalactites hung across the ceiling. And like the castle, they looked ready to pierce all that lay beneath them.
Maybe this really is a nightmare. . .
She turned over to look up at the woman holding her. It was like the mother’s hold Cyane often longed for.
But the woman that held her looked anything but maternal.
Cyane swallowed weakly as the stranger met her eyes. Whoever this person was...was the most beautiful, ethereally enchanting creature Cyane had ever laid eyes on.
Hair as white and silken as fresh snow, and looking just as soft, was clipped behind her ears with dark jewels. She wore black veils over her head, her shoulders, and dress, but where they didn’t cover her, the woman’s skin was just as pale as her hair, if not more so. As Cyane gazed at the figure who held her, she thought she saw the woman’s body become translucent, her white locks falling through what should’ve been flesh and blood and bone.
Then there were her nails...
They were long enough to be claws and slightly curled as if overgrown.
Cyane shuddered. Now that she’d seen her, the woman’s touch felt like ghostly fingers crawling up under Cyane’s flesh, tip-tapping all the way to her head, where they settled in her mind like writhing maggots.
Between the woman and the room, she knew she was somewhere that shouldn’t exist. Her stomach constricted, the room and everything in it wasn’t...humanized. Everything was all too unreal...strange.
“Are you feeling better?” the woman asked.
No! No, I’m far from okay. So far from okay that I don’t know what I feel anymore.
“Yes,” she said. “Thank...you.” Cyane shifted, and the discomfort brewing inside her vanished. A sigh escaped her. She stared at the stranger, waiting for the woman’s hair to slip into her body again. Had it been her imagination? She needed that validation. “Who are you?” she asked.
“Melinoe, daughter of Hades and Persephone, a true power in this realm.”
Cyane’s brow furrowed.
Validation.
The woman straightened regally. “It would serve you well to align yourself with me.”
Cyane sat upright herself. Something in the way the woman saidalignfelt like compellment. “What? What do you mean align?”
Melinoe smiled. “You are a mortal, are you not? Everyone in the castle is talking about it. A mortal has not stayed among us in the dark in many years, at least not since I was born. If you were to show reverence to me, as a mortal should to all the gods and goddesses, I would favor you.” Melinoe sucked in a breath. “I would favor you above all others.”
Cyane clutched her head.
“Are you okay?” Melinoe asked. “Would you like a drink?”
She searched her memory for information on Melinoe but couldn’t remember anything about the goddess. If Cyane truly was in the Underworld, and a fever dream hadn’t taken over her mind, she needed to start paying attention to the details. She needed to get herself out of here.
She jerked.The note!
Relief hit when she reached into her short’s pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper—which had miraculously survived the water. It was still with her. She inhaled. That’s all that mattered. Cyane unfolded it and read the same simple sentence for the billionth time. She sagged and pressed it to her chest, but then her gaze shifted back to Melinoe.
“I need to get to Sicily,” she said. “To meet my father—er—parents.” She regretted giving away that much information from the moment the words left her lips.
“Sicily? There’s no place here named as such.” The supposed-goddess eyed her with curiosity. “I could ask my lord father, Hades.”
