After a moment, she said, “If it’s a magical void you seek, try the Ruins of Rhea. It was once a thriving city that was destroyed by the gods eons ago. Now, it holds no magic.”
Cyrus straightened, hope blooming in his chest. “That sounds like the place. Where is it?”
“Originally, it was ten miles south of Sodara. But since the gods cursed the village, it is… altered.”
Cyrus’s chest twisted with dread. “Altered how?”
“It changes and moves, depending on the magic around it. If the area nearby contains too much magic, the ruins will vanish and reappear in a place less saturated with energy.”
Cyrus let his hands fall against his thighs in exasperation. “How the hell are we supposed to find this place if it’s always moving?”
Farah’s nostrils flared, her eyes turning sharp. “Watch yourself, death god. I am not your enemy here. I am helping you as best I can.”
Cyrus closed his eyes and suppressed a groan. “You’re right. Forgive me. I am… merely agitated.”
“I can see that.” Humor laced her tone.
“How far do the ruins usually shift?” Lagos asked.
Farah paused, considering. “From what I understand, it is usually within a five-mile radius. But I could be wrong. We do not track these things.”
Lagos nodded, then turned to Cyrus. “If we can get close enough, I believe I can scent the Titan magic.”
“How close would we need to get?” Cyrus asked.
“A few miles, perhaps.”
Cyrus nodded. It might take them some time, but it was the best plan they had. “Which direction is Sodara?” he asked Farah.
“Northwest. Once you cross the dunes, you’ll see the city. Or, what’s left of it.” Her eyes turned grim. “The darkness from Pandora’s box has destroyed much of this realm.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Cyrus said, and he meant it. He had seen that darkness firsthand. He wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
“Farah, is there anything you can give us?” Evander asked, a pleading note in his voice. “A tracking spell? Some kind of potion or concoction? Anything you can offer would be greatly appreciated.”
Farah offered a sad smile. “Unfortunately, most of our spells can only be used by those who possess witch blood. But… if you are traveling to a land without magic, there are some elixirs we can give you that provide a short burst of power. Mind you, it is brief and not very strong. But it may give you the upper hand if the Titans are expecting to overpower you.”
Cyrus’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s quite impressive.”
“Your surprise is a touch patronizing, death god,” Farahsaid with a chuckle. She waved down a blonde witch who stood by the shelves. The witch approached, and Farah murmured something to her in soft undertones. The blonde witch nodded, then returned to the shelves, gathering various vials in her arms.
Before she could return, a panicked shout erupted in the cavern, echoing against the walls. Three witches appeared at the tunnel leading to the desert, their faces pale and stricken.
Farah straightened. “What is it?”
“A beacon,” said one of the witches, breathless from her sprinting. “From the west. Fire magic.”
Cyrus’s blood chilled. The Titans?
Or… Prue?
“It was not one of ours,” said another witch. “I did not recognize the magic. But it was definitely a witch. Runic magic, maybe.”
“Mona,” Evander whispered, his eyes widening.
“It’s a call for help,” Farah said, exchanging solemn looks with Cyrus and Evander.
“Will you answer?” Cyrus asked. “Not for me—but for your fellow witches?”
