The demon was as committed to this as Cyrus was. If Prue were watching, she would be welling up with tears.
Farah dropped her hands, her fire vanishing as she gaped at Lagos. It seemed she, too, had not realized the demon was there. “You—You are a demon.”
Lagos inclined his head. “Yes.”
Farah’s face paled. Behind her, the witches began whispering and murmuring to one another. Farah’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she stammered, “I—Demons… should not be here. They do not belong in our realm.”
“Well, clearly this one is an exception,” Cyrus said.
Farah shook her head. “Forgive me. I just—I have never met a demon who is so… civilized.”
Lagos bristled, clearly offended by this.
“I mean to say,” Farah said quickly, “the only demons we have encountered are the monsters from Pandora’s box. Before the box was opened, demons could not travel to this realm.” Her gaze shifted to Cyrus, and a strange sense of awe filled her expression. “You are friends with this demon?”
“I am,” said Cyrus. “I trust him with my life.”
Farah inhaled a soft gasp, then looked over her shoulder at the witches behind her. She nodded, and they doused their flames as well, save for one, who raised her arm as a sort of torch to light the way.
“Perhaps I misjudged you, death god,” Farah said, drawing closer and bowing her head to him. “A king who canbefriend a demon is certainly someone worthy of my respect.”
Cyrus blinked, startled by this abrupt change in the witch’s behavior. He exchanged an uncertain glance with Evander, who shrugged.
“I—uh—thank you,” Cyrus muttered, bowing his head in return. “I appreciate that.”
“You are not like your father,” Farah said with a small smile. “That is for certain.”
“Good,” Cyrus said, his voice coming out as a growl. “Then I’m doing something right.”
Farah jerked her head toward the tunnel behind her. “Follow us. We will escort you through the caves.”
Relief spread through Cyrus’s chest as Farah and the witches turned to stride through the narrow tunnel. Before following, Cyrus put a hand on Lagos’s shoulder.
“Thank you for that,” he murmured. “This might have turned into a nasty fight if you hadn’t said something.”
Lagos only grunted, and Cyrus couldn’t tell if it was meant to be a laugh or a scoff. Together, the three of them set off after the witches.
PROJECTION
TRIVIA
If Trivia measuredher days by how often she rested, she and Midas worked for five days on clearing her mind and strengthening her shields. Five days of mental strain. Five days of throbbing headaches.
On the sixth day, Trivia was so tired that she was tempted to give up—to take Midas up on his offer and just… stop.
But when he greeted her for their next training session, what he said surprised her.
“I want you to try to project your construct into my mind.”
Trivia blinked at Midas, intrigued by this. The two of them no longer floated in the infinite void; they stood alongside one another, with Pandora’s construct floating in and out of focus. If Trivia concentrated enough, the veranda overlooking the beach would become crystal clear. But Trivia wanted to save her energy for whatever task Midas asked of her.
“Project a construct toyou?” she repeated. “I’ve already done that.”
Midas shook his head. “No, not this.”He waved his arms at their blurry surroundings. “I want you to send an image into my mind—and my mind alone. Make me see it, even if it’s not there.”
Trivia frowned. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can. Your powers have grown since we began. You have managed to shield while simultaneously maintaining your own mental construct. Now, I want you to shieldandproject that construct into my mind. Make me feel like I am there.”
