Page 83 of Thorn & Ash
The roaring vortex of shapes and sounds was spiraling toward her. From within, she heard a maniacal laugh, as if Pandora’s dark magic was eager to devour her…
“Cyrus!” she shrieked, turning and fleeing from the tunnel and the explosion of power that still echoed behind her. She sprinted back through the passageway until she reached the main chamber once more.
It was empty.
“Cyrus!” Prue screamed.
More laughter echoed behind her, and she whirled to find the spinning horde of magic trailing after her. Taunting her.
She remembered what Lagos had said: The box draws in anything surrounding it. The last one to open it was trapped inside.
The magic of Pandora’s box would consume her completely unless she found a way out. Right now.
“Trust your magic,” she reminded herself, her voice a trembling whisper. She closed her eyes, conjuring the divine power inside her. It rose up willingly, as if it had been waiting. Her eyes flew open. Her hands glowed white, the heat burning inside her. With a shout of fury, she thrust her hands, palms out, toward the dark magic careening toward her.
The magic stopped short, hovering in the air, the great mass faltering from her show of strength.
Was it afraid of her power? Or had it recognized Gaia’s magic?
“I am not your enemy,” Prue growled. “I am the same as you. Now, leave me be lest you invoke the Triple Goddess’s wrath.” Her voice was firm, echoing in the cave.
The floating magic quivered slightly. Whispers echoed around Prue in an ancient tongue she couldn’t decipher. She shuddered from the power of it. Dark and unstoppable.
“Sister,” a voice hissed from within the vortex.
Prue’s insides chilled as the voice confirmed what she had suspected. She and Mona had another sister.
Trivia.
“Where is she?” Prue demanded, not entirely expecting an answer.
“She… is… free,” the whispers chanted.
The magic surged forward, and Prue yelped, ducking down low to avoid being struck. But the spiral of power merely grazed over her head, funneling toward the ceiling before it vanished from view. Echoes of its laughter still rang in Prue’s ears.
Stunned, Prue straightened, her insides churning with unease and horror. What had she just unleashed on this realm?
Whatever it was, it certainly didn’t seem like it would help things. If anything, it would add to the destruction and chaos.
Trivia had lied about everything. The box didn’t drain magic; it unleashed all the forbidden magicks of the universe.
And they were forbidden for a reason.
What would happen to the people of the Underworld? Prue thought of Lagos, and panic flared in her chest. She had to get out of here.
But Cyrus was still down here. Where was he?
Find him. Use your magic.
Her hand flew to her collarbone, only to realize her pomegranate necklace was no longer there. Of course. Their bond was broken; it would be even harder to find him now.
Prue gritted her teeth. Cyrus was her husband, and she would find him. She knew his magic, his scent, better than she knew herself. Closing her eyes, she conjured his face in her mind, his musky and dark scent, the icy chill of his death magic, the growl of his voice when he was angry… and when he was aroused.
Each singular feature of Cyrus—his skin, his hair, his tattoos, the way his eyes crinkled with his smile—came to her mind as she crafted a perfect likeness of her husband.
“Show me where you are,” she whispered. Without knowing why, she stretched her arms out, her eyes remaining closed as she blindly reached out for him. “Show me, Cyrus.”
She inched forward, her feet scraping against the rocky ground. She didn’t know where she was going, but some innate instinct told her to keep her eyes closed, or else the bubble of magic around her would shatter.