Page 67 of Summer's Seduction
Arete and Megara were laid out on the earth, their cloaks wrapped around them in an attempt to minimize the red stains. People often talked about how death was peaceful, but death—the splatters of blood and putrid scent clinging to flesh long since cooled—was anything but peaceful.
Their life threads had been cut short far before their time. I hoped their souls inherited all the tranquility The Underworld had to offer, but I wouldn’t minimize their deaths by smoothing out the bitterness of their passing.
“There is a stream flowing with rejuvenating properties a few paces in,” Artemis said with her eyes locked on the bodies and her voice devoid of feeling. “They will help heal any wounds you have, restore you to your peak health, and purge you of any impurity. If the poison hadn’t been as potent, or the arrows had just grazed them, if we'd gotten here when their blood still ran, and their hearts beat, they would’ve survived.”
My brows furrowed as images of a small stream cutting through a misty morning flashed through my mind. Some were cursed—causing those who tasted their waters to want to dive to the bottom of the riverbed and stay there, or forget who they were, or invoke a thirst so intense, they drank until they died—but there were a few who had waters so sweet, you felt like a goddess. Most feared The Echoing Mountains, but I didn’t. I knew which waters to indulge in and which to avoid.
But how? How could I possibly know that?
Camilla placed a comforting hand on Artemis’s shoulder as Hebe stood, face solemn and cheeks streaked with tears.
“We will bathe their bodies to rid them of any remnants of pain,” Cyrene explained. “Once their souls have been purified, we will take them home to bestow rights fitting of a huntress.”
“Megara—” Morpheus started.
“Megara was killed in battle alongside fellow warriors,” Artemis interjected. “She will be given the rights like any other of my huntresses.”
“Thank you,” Morpheus breathed, the words soft enough that I almost missed them. But Artemis didn’t.
“Do not thank me, Dark Prince,” she hissed, her violet eyes flaring with a silver glow. “Had I known we were walking into battle, I would’ve insisted on a proper army. You assured me Egerius was harmless—that obtaining that cursed key around your neck was necessary.”
“The keywasnecessary,” I said before I could stop myself. I knew Artemis was angry, but I also felt how tormented Morpheus was at being betrayed by people he considered family. Not only that but after my dream, I knew where Psyche was. “My sister is locked in The Glass Palace. Morpheus secured the only way to free her.”
Pictures of clear, sharp spires rising from crisp snow banks rose to the surface of my mind. A single pair of small footprints blemished the landscape, fleeing from the rainbow prisms on the mountainside toward the marshy lands of the west.
I blinked, and the images faded, leaving only my frantic heartbeat. Before I could think too long on what any of it meant, Artemis’s harsh voice silenced my disjointed memories.
“One soul?” Artemis gritted out, her grief bleeding into anger. “You would save one soul over thousands? Hypnos is on the loose and very clearly being aided by a god. It doesn’t matterif The Sands of Time are still in The Underworld or if he is able to wield them in different realms.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Morpheus countered before I could tell Artemis just how many lives I would gladly sacrifice to save my sister. “If I am able to take possession of The Sands of Time and The Cornucopia sees me as its rightful king, Hypnos will no longer be able to wield it.”
But Artemis didn’t want to hear it. She shook Camilla off as she started pacing. “We need to figure out who we’re up against.”
“Which gods do you think would align themselves with Hypnos?” Hebe asked.
“Ares,” I said. All eyes turned toward me. I swallowed, glancing toward Morpheus as I spoke. “Lucius took me into a hidden room during the fight. He all but confirmed it was Ares making The Dark Ones so bloodthirsty.”
“It would make sense,” Cyrene mused, looking at the others.
“Perhaps,” Morpheus acquiesced, his eyes narrowing at my revelation. I waited for him to say more, but he remained silent.
“There is much to do,” Artemis said, the anger in her voice now a low simmer tempered by grief. “First, we lay their souls to rest. Once their bodies have been cleansed, we’ll return to our sisters to offer them the funeral rights fitting of a immortal huntresses.”
Artemis dipped her head signally to Hebe, Cyrene, and Camilla. The three remaining huntresses carried Arete into the darkness of the cave, and Camilla and Cyrene returned a moment later for Megara.
Artemis bent, lifting her broken body as if it weighed nothing. Before she could reach the cave, the air around us sparked with electricity, the thrum of magic causing the fine hairs on the back of my arms to stand on end right before the veil split. And Hecate appeared.
LARKSPUR
Green eyes containing eons of knowledge bored into mine, searching for something. A small frown formed on Hecate’s lips, leaving me feeling like I’d let her down before she turned toward Artemis and the body cradled in her arms.
“What happened?” Hecate asked as the white tattoos coating her dark arms pulsed with magic.
Artemis’s spine stiffened. “Ares joined Hypnos’s side.”
Hecate’s eyes went wide a moment before she shook her head. “That explains how Hypnos’s failed attempt at usurping Hades has turned into an all-out war.” She tilted her head to the side, lost in thought. “And could account for the high number of deaths reported from the covens. Do you know of any others who have allied against us?”
Artemis shook her head. “I intend to find out as soon as I send off my warriors.”