Page 66 of Ivy & Bone

Soft footsteps sounded on the other side. Cyrus suddenly went still, his hands slick with sweat as he gripped the fire poker. The footsteps stopped just on the other side of the door. Then, a soft voice whispered, “Recludo.”

Uncertain if it was Prue or Mona, Cyrus drew back, raising the poker, prepared to strike if he had to . . .

Only to find Prue, her garments filthy and covered in blood. Her entire left arm was stained crimson, and Cyrus’s jaw dropped at the sight of her.

“Gods, Prue! What the hell happened to you?” Slowly, Cyrus lowered his poker, though he didn’t release it. His entire body was still on edge, prepared to fight off a threat.

Prue stared at him, then shifted her gaze to the room. Her eyes narrowed. “You sure seem to be suffering right now.”

Cyrus groaned. “It’s just Vasileios trying to bribe me.” He stepped closer to Prue, scanning her for injuries. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?” His words were a growl as he pictured the soldiers Vasileios had control over. If one of them had harmed her . . .

“No, no, I did this to myself,” Prue said absently. “You know, for magic.” When he continued to watch her in confusion, she said quickly, “I’ll tell you later. What’s more important is, that’s not really Mona out there.”

Cyrus straightened. Well, this was interesting.

In a hasty murmur, Prue filled him in on everything her sister’s spirit had conveyed to her. In spite of it all, Cyrus found himself grinning.

“All of it was a lie,” he said with a laugh. “Vasileios, he’s absolutely bluffing. Gods, the irony of it all. He was taunting me for not sealing our bond, when all along, he’s created himself a false bride!”

“It’s not completely false,” Prue whispered. “As soon as he binds her body with her soul, he’ll have her.” Worry flared in her expression.

“He won’t,” Cyrus said at once. “Her soul is bound to the Underworld. In order to access it, he has to . . . Ah. I understand now.”

“What?”

“He has to possess full control of the realm to do as he pleases with the souls. As of right now, he only has authority over the realm I assigned him to.”

“That’s why he wants your throne. For Mona’s soul.”

“Yes.”

Prue shook her head. “But why? What’s so important about my sister? Won’t any witch suffice? Can’t he just marry into another powerful coven?”

“You and your sister aren’t just any witches, Prue. You’re twins blessed by the Triple Goddess. Do you know how rare that is?”

Prue’s jaw went slack, her gaze unfocused as she stared at the floor. After a moment, she whispered, “Janus, the Doorkeeper of the Heavens, imbued the two faces of his power into the souls of mortal witches. Two halves of the same whole. Two twins of the same bloodline. If one twin dies, Janus’s spell would be undone, and the twin powers would merge together into one being and one soul.”

Cyrus frowned. “What is that?”

“It’s from my family grimoire. The legend of Janus. The prophecy I told you about before. We were told since birth that our powers were special because of our bond as twin witches. But one of us had to die for the power convergence to occur. And Mona did die. Or so we thought. With Mona not technically ‘dead,’ then . . .”

“You haven’t converged yet,” Cyrus said slowly. Then, he blinked, having just realized something. “Vasileios sent the assassin after you. In Voula City.”

Prue nodded as if she’d just realized this as well. “If I die, that leaves Mona free to absorb my powers.”

Cyrus cocked his head at her, considering. “You’ve been holding back for nothing, Prue.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve held back because you believed you’d stolen Mona’s magic. But you haven’t. Everything you’ve done has been you.”

Prue’s eyes widened at his words, and Cyrus saw the comprehension dawn on her. All those powerful spells she’d cast had been on her own merit.

She shook her head. “No. No, it isn’t possible. There’s no way . . .” She faltered and bit her lip, conflict warring in her expression.

Footsteps echoed nearby, and Prue inhaled sharply. In an instant, Cyrus snatched her arm, shoving her behind him as a soldier entered the room. His eyes flicked from Cyrus to Prue. He gasped, but before he could shout for aid, Cyrus shoved the tip of the poker into the man’s throat.

Prue yelped as the soldier crumpled to the floor, blood pooling from the gash in his throat.

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