Page 79 of Thorn & Ash

Some distant cry echoed in the caves. Ordinarily, Cyrus would dismiss it as another tortured soul in Tartarus. But he knew this voice intimately.

It was Prue. She was alive.

That bolt of clarity burned through his haze of misery. He climbed to his feet, legs shaking, and blinked fiercely at the sight of Prue’s dead body. Squinting, he stared hard at it, trying to conjure his magical senses, trying to remind himself to see past the illusion.

The image of Prue flickered. Cyrus breathed a sigh of relief.

In a flash, her body vanished, and a new one took its place. Prue’s sister, Mona. She lay on the ground, a jagged, bloody gash covering her head, exposing her skull. Beside her was Prue, on her knees and sobbing.

Cyrus lunged for her, his hands pressing into Prue’s shoulders. She was solid and warm and real in his grasp. Thank the gods.

“Prue.” He squeezed her shoulders. When she didn’t respond, he shook her slightly. “Prue.”

“Mona,” Prue wept. “I—I couldn’t save you. Mona!”

“It’s not real!” Cyrus told her. “Prue, come back to me. It’s just an illusion. Trust your magic. Break free. You’re stronger than this.”

Prue trembled, her shoulders shaking with more sobs. Cyrus gathered her mass of curls together, tucking them over one shoulder and exposing the back of her neck. He crouched down, dragging his lips up and down the column of her neck.

She shuddered, then gasped, and Cyrus knew the touch of him jolted her from her grief.

“Breathe,” he murmured against her skin. “Find yourself. Assess your surroundings. You can do this.”

Her breathing turned ragged and then slowed. She exhaled, long and deep. Eventually, her body stopped shaking, and she turned to face him, her red-rimmed eyes swimming in tears.

“You t-told me it was an illusion,” she whispered. “How did I still fall for it?”

“This place captures your first impression and clings to it,” Cyrus said. “If you see an illusion and immediately know it’s false, you are safe. But… if for even one moment, it claims you, convincing you it’s real… then Tartarus has you.”

Prue gripped his arms tightly in hers, and he helped her to her feet. For a moment, she buried her face in his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, still shaken by the illusion that had deceived him, too. They held each other, clinging to reality and the support of each other. For the first time, Cyrus was glad she was here with him. He hadn’t wanted her to jump into the pit, but it was such a comfort that they had one another to depend on.

For what felt like hours, Prue and Cyrus crept forward, pausing often to assess their divine powers, to seek with the one sense Tartarus did not have control over. It was difficult to trust in these new instincts, especially with Cyrus’s magic so depleted. He had spent enough time in the mortal realm with Prue to easily rely on his human needs and senses. And now, with his magic drained, he was starting to rely on them once again.

Prue struggled, too. She’d spent her entire life living as a mortal witch.

And she and Cyrus both had many, many fears for Tartarus to play on.

At one point, the illusion they found was a different version of Mona dead on the ground—this time, her throat slit and blood coating her body. In another illusion, it was Evander, his wings shredded and his eyes open and empty.

In one instance, Cyrus found himself in a cage, his body withering away, the skin barely clinging to his bones. Kronos had control of him once more, leaving his eyes all black as he roared like an animal.

Each vision broke them more and more, but each one reminded them they couldn’t trust their mortal eyes.

It took them several tries, several attempts at locating a powerful source of magic only to discover it was an illusion, before they could fully rely on their immortality to lead the way.

Cyrus knew exactly when it happened. His forehead was covered in sweat from the mental exertion of retraining his mind. But once he tapped into that source, the source of his powers and magic and immortality, the air changed. The darkness fled from the cave, revealing a wide and nearly empty chamber.

Screams echoed around them, causing bumps to rise on Cyrus’s arms. A chill snaked over him as he realized he had finally pierced through Tartarus’s illusion.

All that remained were the tormented souls that were already down here.

“Prue—” He turned to face her, and his blood ran cold.

She no longer stood next to him.

OPEN

PRUE