“I know,” Mona said, although she wasn’t reassured. She caught Wren glancing toward the entrance tunnel, her eyes full of worry.
Mona wanted to say something to comfort her, but the words were lost to her. How could Mona offer hope when it seemed there was none?
Wren suddenly uttered a sharp gasp and jumped to her feet. Her hand pressed to her chest, her eyes wide as she murmured, “By the Goddess!”
Several other witches were on their feet as well. Mona followed suit, frowning as she glanced around the cavern. “What’s going on?”
Without responding, Wren took off toward the entrance tunnel.
That was when Mona sensed it. A swell of heat coiled around her, tickling her skin and awakening her magic. She drew in a breath, inhaling the familiar scent of ashes and woodsmoke.
Only once had she smelled this before: in the Voiceless Jungle when she had met the Gorgon sisters.
Relief spread through her, warming her body and numbing the pain of Evander’s departure. The Gorgons were here. This was exactly the joyous news she needed right now.
A scream pierced the air, echoing in the cavern and bouncing off the walls. Mona froze at that sound, her blood chilling. A crowd of witches stood by the entrance tunnel. One of them was on her knees, sobbing.
Mona’s heart dropped to her stomach.
Hurried footsteps sounded behind her. Mona turned to find Prue gasping for breath as she made her way toward the crowd, her tunic rumpled and her hair disheveled. “What’s happened? I sensed something powerful nearby. Is everyone okay?”
Mona’s mouth was so dry she couldn’t respond. Her eyes were pinned to the commotion at the entrance. She couldn’t bring herself to move closer to see what had happened.
She dreaded what she would find.
“Mona?” Prue asked, her voice tinged with worry. She grasped Mona’s wrist.
A tense moment passed. Mona’s eyes were glued to the witches, who were murmuring to one another in hushed voices. Several of them were weeping openly.
Prue laced her fingers through Mona’s. “Come on.” She tugged on Mona’s arm, drawing her forward. Mona’s feet shuffled of their own accord, bringing some awareness into her cold body.
A rush of appreciation filled her as Prue guided her forward. Mona wasn’t sure what she would do without hersister. Prue seemed to sense Mona was in no state to make decisions or give explanations. She needed action to snap her out of her haze.
Prue always knew exactly what she needed.
As they approached the crowd, Mona made out words that made her shiver.
Killed.
Dead.
Slaughtered.
“This means war,” whispered a witch.
“What can we do?” said another. “She is dead. The Gorgons cannot help us now.”
Slowly, Prue and Mona weaved through the crowd, making their way to the mouth of the cave. There sat four figures, bruised and blood-stained. Mona immediately recognized them: the three Gorgon sisters and Romanos, Evander’s brother.
Except… something was wrong. One of the sisters—Lilith, if Mona could recall correctly—was lying on Marina’s lap, her eyes closed. Her chest wasn’t moving, and her face was deathly pale.
Oh no,Mona thought, feeling sick with dread.No, no, no.
Marina was sobbing, hunched over as she smoothed Lilith’s hair away from her face. On one side was Romanos, his arm around Marina and his head on her shoulder. He was bleeding from a deep gash above his eyebrow.
On Marina’s other side was the third sister, Vivian. She was staring with wide eyes at the ground, unseeing and unresponsive. Wren moved toward her and sank to her knees. Without a word, the two women embraced one another.Wren’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close. She stroked her hair, whispering, “I’ve got you, my darling. I’ve got you.” Vivian’s shoulders shook as she, too, began to sob.
That’s who Wren was so worried about,Mona realized, her chest aching at the sight of the two witches.
