He needed to try to face the Titans in earnest this time. If they had started creating unholy creatures, then it wouldn’t be long before the entire realm was overrun with them.
“You didn’t think you could leave without me, did you?” asked a voice.
Prue and Cyrus turned to find Mona, also carrying a small sack, her eyebrows raised expectantly.
Prue’s lips flattened as if she had, in fact, hoped to sneak out without Mona noticing. “Evander’s still not back?”
“No,” Mona said tightly, her eyes dimming. “But I can’t stand by and do nothing. I wasn’t close to Lilith, so it doesn’t feel right to share in the witches’ grief right now. But I can dosomething.You and I are goddesses now, Prue. We have enough power to fight.”
Cyrus’s stomach knotted at her words. Yes, Prue and Mona were powerful.
But the Titans were even more so. They had felled far stronger deities than the two sisters.
He thought of Prue and the gash in the side of her head that had only barely finished healing. There was a scar there, and her ear would not grow back. She was forever altered from the torture they had inflicted on her.
The idea of the Titans causing his wife even more pain made Cyrus want to roar, to smash through walls and burn down buildings. He couldn’t stand it.
Prue nudged his arm. “Do you have the map?” Her voice was gentle, and he wondered if she only asked because she knew his thoughts were spiraling.
Regardless of her motives, he welcomed the distraction. Clearing his throat, he checked his pockets for the folded map Farah had given him. “It’s here.” He glanced at Mona. “Do you remember the way through the Voiceless Jungle?” When Mona nodded, he said, “Good. If you can get us through there, I think I can navigate our way to the Thanassian Empire.”
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Prue asked, her eyes softening.
Something warmed in Cyrus’s chest as he looked at her. “Yes, it has.”
The last time they had been in the Thanassian Empire, they had been reluctantly traveling together to close the gates of the Underworld. In the small village of Faidon, they had finally admitted their love to one another, sealing their bond in a heated night of passion.
He would never forget that night.
Cyrus let out a steady breath. “All right. Let’s go.”
The three of them made their way to the exit, pausing occasionally to bid farewell to some witches along the way. When they reached the cavern entrance, they found Farah and four other witches waiting, each of them dressed in copper armor.
Cyrus straightened at the sight of them, his brows knitting together. “Farah, what’s going on?”
“The four of us are prepared to fight alongside you,” Farah announced, lifting her chin. Her amber eyes gleamed with fierce intensity, and she looked every bit the warrior Cyrus knew her to be.
“I thought your coven would follow after us,” Cyrus said.
“I thought so, too,” Farah said. “But we decided we simply cannot wait. Not all of my sisters are able to fight. And I will not ask them to in their time of grief. Wren will head the coven in my absence and prepare those for battle if and when they are ready. But for now, the five of us cannot stand by and do nothing. I’m sure you share the same sentiment.”
Slowly, Cyrus nodded. His heart stirred at the sight of these women, bravely willing to step into battle. “Farah, you will likely die. You all will. I need you to understand that.”
“Death has already struck our people,” said the witch next to Farah. Cyrus vaguely recalled her name was Nadia. “It will strike again whether we are prepared for it or not. We want to act now, while we still have the choice to do so.”
The other witches murmured their agreement, squaring their shoulders with defiance blazing in their eyes. Cyrus gazed at each of them, admiring their fearlessness. There was no hesitation on any of their faces. They were ready, even if it meant facing death.
He inclined his head as a sign of respect. “Then, I am proud to consider you my allies in this battle.”
Farah offered a small smile.
“And I will be grateful to have a navigator who knows these lands better than I do,” Cyrus added in a mutter.
Farah chuckled. “I’m sure you are. Come. We’ll lead the way.”
After exchanging glances with Prue and Mona, Cyrus followed the armored witches through the tunnel that would lead them out into the desert.
Cyrus had to admire the witches’ finesse. Even in their battle armor, they still glided gracefully through the desert, their steps far more lithe and nimble than his, Prue’s, and Mona’s. The witches were patient and often paused to allow the threeof them to catch up. The wind bit at Cyrus’s face and stung his eyes, burning his skin with the incessant grains of sand that seemed forever embedded in his flesh.
