Page 19 of Ivy & Bone

Cyrus released her hand, and a sudden rush of fatigue overcame her. Her form drooped, and Polina caught her by the shoulders, keeping her upright. On the other side, Beatrice wilted as well, her breaths short and feeble. Polina, however, wasn’t even winded.

“Look,” Beatrice breathed, raising a shaking hand to point toward the sea in the distance.

Prue squinted, making out a faint golden gleam highlighting the sky. With a gasp, she realized it was the spell—for on the other side of the gold light was that same ethereal fog, the horde of spirits waiting for them. Their magic had formed an enchanted dome of safety around the island, but on the other side, the spirits loomed, eager to devour them.

And Prue and Cyrus would be heading straight for them.

FLEE

CYRUS

Cyrus might loathe these witches with every fiber of his being, but he couldn’t deny the raw and magnificent power emanating from them. Particularly the Mother, Polina. He’d never seen such powerful witch fire before—powerful enough to cut through the souls of the Underworld.

And Prudence . . . Well, he had already sensed her power when she’d summoned him. But something about watching the three witches as their magic converged knotted something inside Cyrus’s chest.

He and his brothers and his father—they never had that. And they never would. They would always be rivals instead of allies.

“We need to go,” Prudence said, tugging on Cyrus’s arm.

He opened his mouth to berate her for addressing him so callously, but before he could, Polina interjected, “Now? You need rest, Prudence. Look at you!”

Prudence did indeed look exhausted. Shadows framed her eyes, and her skin took on a sickly pallor.

“No, look at that,” Prudence said, her voice surprisingly firm as she gestured to the souls on the other side of the barrier. “The spirits are still out there. Even if they aren’t in Krenia, I can’t doom the rest of the realm to this. We have to fix this. Now.”

Polina’s mouth opened and closed, her eyes filled with anguish. “Prudence, I . . .” She trailed off as Prudence looked at her with the same intense regret.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Prudence whispered. Tears spilled down her face. “I wish there had been another way. But it should’ve been me. It always should’ve been me. I know you believe it, too.”

Polina released a small whimper of anguish before pulling her daughter into a fierce embrace. Polina stroked Prudence’s hair with such affection and tenderness that Cyrus had to look away, his throat burning. He would blame it on the pomegranate tea, but he knew better.

Witnessing such emotion between a mother and daughter made Cyrus feel strangely empty inside. He had never known his mother, so how could he miss something he’d never known? When asked about it, Aidoneus would only say she was a goddess from another realm and leave it at that, refusing to elaborate further. Aidoneus himself had been far from fatherly.

A sudden surge of impatience flared in Cyrus’s chest. Thinking of Aidoneus reminded him of the dangers awaiting him in the Underworld. He had to return as soon as possible before his father and brothers destroyed the entire realm.

“Are you quite finished?” Cyrus snapped.

The women pulled apart, and Polina shot him a glare before returning her gaze to her daughter. “There is always a way, my dear. Don’t forget that. And promise me you won’t stop searching for it.”

Prudence pressed her lips together and nodded, though Cyrus caught the darkness that flashed in her lavender eyes.

She had no plans to survive this. Perhaps Polina noticed this as well, because she sighed heavily, closing her eyes against the steady flow of tears.

Prudence touched Beatrice’s shoulder. The older woman offered a frail smile, pressing her forehead to Prudence’s. “Be safe, dear,” Beatrice whispered.

The younger witch only nodded before turning away, not bothering to check if Cyrus followed. But he wasn’t about to linger in this decrepit fish town, surrounded by hateful witches, for any longer than he had to. With a heavy sigh, he hurried after Prue, finding it much easier to navigate along the road without the fog of souls to mask his view. Even in the darkness, his immortal eyes could still see perfectly, for which he was grateful.

Ahead of him, Prudence sniffed and wiped at her face, and Cyrus rolled his eyes. These witches might be powerful, but they were still delicate creatures, prone to emotion and weakness.

And this wretched woman had somehow bound his powers? No. Impossible.

Cyrus stopped in his tracks, going completely stiff. The rage and indignation roared inside him, and he could no longer hold it at bay. And why should he? He was not some puppet, some weapon to be wielded at the whims of some inexperienced witch.

Prudence seemed to sense his halting steps. She turned and glanced over her shoulder. “What are you doing? Come on, we need to leave!”

“No,” Cyrus bit out. He was finished being ordered around like some slave.

Prudence’s eyebrows shot up as she stomped toward him, closing the distance between them. “No? I’m sorry, do you have somewhere better to be? I was under the impression you wanted to return home.”

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