Hector cawed.
I shivered and resumed my trek along the path. A wintry breeze gusted against me, and I tugged my cloak tighter around my shoulders, bent forward against the chill. The further we got from the palace, the higher and denser the trees grew, their trunks wide and twisting like a knotted fist. Soon enough, the buffeting wind eased to a gentle breeze, bringing with it the scent of pine and resin, shot through with honeysuckle.
Moments turned to an hour or more. Hector continued to forge onward, not once slowing down. But when the sun had climbed directly overhead, the raven finally slowed and darted down a side path. I followed after him, my cheeks warm and breath misting before me.
Through the trees, a flat, white marble building lazed beneath a moss-coated roof, surrounded by a damaged circular wall, its ruined chunks littering the ground. In the garden before it, broken columns were scattered here and there, where the busts of crumbling statues perched. Some were missing heads. Other heads had clung on and only the noses were missing.
All were broken in some way.
I drifted closer, following Hector toward a square arch held up by four columns that appeared much more intact than the rest. “What is this place?”
Whatever it was, it had long been forgotten. I moved to the nearest statue, slid my finger along the stone, and sniffed. The only scent that answered was dust. These had to be ruins, from the time before the Titans lived. I leaned closer to the statue, squinting at the pockmarked face. It was difficult to tell much about it with half the surface gone. Had this statue been crafted in the image of a vampire? A mortal? Or something else entirely?
Hector’s emphatic caw drew my attention away from the ruins. He hovered just outside the entrance, his powerful wings beating the air. Skeptically, my brow rose.
“You want me to go inside a crumbling building?”
He dove inside, and I had no choice but to follow. With a sigh, I jogged toward the building, only slowing when my boots hit the edge of the veranda. I passed between two stone pillars, the wind creaking as it pushed at my back, propelling me into the gloom.
A scuttling noise echoed from within the open door. Heart pulsing, I pulled my wooden dagger from the depths of my cloak and held it by my side, still hidden beneath the wool. I couldn’t imagine Hector would purposefully lead me to danger, but he might have not been aware of something lurking in the shadows.
Because there was something in here, all right. A gust of frigid air picked up the scent of blood and dirt, swirling around me as leaves danced in the wind. Shivering, I squared my shoulders and ventured inside.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Slowly, the shape of the room came into focus. There was a long stretch of hall that led to a marble archway. Another shuffling sounded from the room just beyond it, where faint light glowed from inside.
I crept closer, my hand tight around the dagger. Despite my focus on the room ahead, I couldn’t help but stare at the line of masks secured to the wall. They were faded and dull, but their smeared painted smiles still glistened eerily, as if they’d just feasted on mortal blood. There were dozens of them—so many the walls felt suffocatingly tight.
Teeth clenched, I approached the room at the end of the corridor, and decorative figures etched into the archway came into sharp relief. Grotesque shapes curled toward me, hands outstretched, membranous wings flared wide. They seemed to stare into the very soul of me.
“Hector,” I whispered as quietly as I could. My raven had clearly flown inside that room, but there was no sign of him, and I was starting to think this had been a terrible idea.
Another sound emerged from the darkness, this time much softer than the scuttling had been. A whimpering sob.
Frowning, I strode into the room and looked around. It was empty, save for a huddled figure chained to the far wall. Sunlight cut through a barred window, splashing onto the figure’s exposed legs. With a startled cry, she shuffled sideways to get away from it.
I inched closer, my heart in my throat. Frizzing silver hair hung into her gaunt face. She peered up at me with hollow eyes. When she spotted me, she shuddered and shuffled back, pressing herself tightly against the wall.
For a moment, I thought I was imagining things, that those masks outside had put some kind of spell on me. She couldn’t be here. It was impossible.
“Hestia?” I breathed.
“Please. Don’t hurt me.” She closed her eyes and jerked her head to the side, tears rolling down dirt-coated cheeks.
I pocketed my dagger and gently moved closer. When I knelt beside her, she flinched. Above us, Hector soared through the domed expanse, cawing mournfully.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I told her in as gentle of a voice as I could summon. Admittedly, it might not bethatgentle. It wasn’t the kind of thing I’d practiced much.
Her voice wobbled when she spoke. “But you’re a Titan. We put almost your entire race into a prison they can never escape.”
“And yet I have no grievances with you at all. You weren’t involved in that.”
She blinked up at me. “So you’re not the one who did this to me?”
I frowned. “Absolutely not. I thought you were dead.” Quickly, I filled her in on what had happened back at the palace. She only seemed to half-listen, her eyes focusing and unfocusing on the opposite wall. When I glanced over my shoulder, I could see why.
More masks. Eyes were blackened. Smiles stretched wide. Some were painted orange and red, while others were the color of a midnight sky.
When I’d finished telling her the story, she sniffled. “I don’t understand what’s happening. Why would someone abduct me and then make it look like I was dead?”
