Page 68 of Ivy & Bone

A dastardly smile spread across his face. “I may have pocketed some expensive jewels in that luxurious suite my brother put me in.”

Prue’s eyebrows lifted, and she huffed a laugh. “I can’t believe he left those lying around.”

“Vasileios wanted to gloat. Besides, he never cared for mortal wealth.”

“And yet he’s seized a kingdom for himself.”

Cyrus’s expression darkened. “That was for me. To taunt me.”

“Why?”

Cyrus didn’t answer for a moment. Then, he took a breath and said, “When I was last in this realm, I was manipulated and deceived. Almost everyone I came across tried to kill me. Vasileios knows how despised I was in this realm and in the Underworld. He thinks he can lure me with the promise of being a beloved king, respected and admired and feared.”

“Does that not appeal to you?”

She felt his silvery eyes on her and resisted the urge to drop her gaze. “No.” His voice was solemn. “Because it wouldn’t be real.”

The emotion in his eyes intensified, and her breath hitched. As she stared at him, she felt herself falling into their depths, down, down, down until she couldn’t see anything else anymore.

But she didn’t mind. She wanted to fall.

The wagon lurched to a stop, and Prue almost fell forward, but Cyrus held her again, his arms reaching for her as if it were pure instinct to protect her. She tried not to dwell on how good it felt to be touched by him, how easy it was to fall into him.

Goddess, Prue, get ahold of yourself.

She was just groggy from the sleep. That was all. Shaking off her bleary thoughts, she followed Cyrus out the back of the wagon.

The merchant was a portly fellow with orange hair and a thick mustache. He grumbled something about “unnecessary risks” as Prue and Cyrus climbed out. Cyrus withdrew a shining emerald broach from his pocket and handed it to the merchant, and the man’s discontent vanished. He bowed to them both before hopping on his wagon and disappearing down the winding road.

A chilled wind whipped at them, swirling Prue’s hair and skirts around her as if she were in a tornado. She tucked her wayward curls behind her ears as she surveyed their surroundings. Behind them, the castle turrets pierced the sky, still surrounded by ghosts, but the scene felt much less foreboding from a distance. They stood on a narrow road with vast, snowy fields on either side. Behind them was the massive city they’d left behind, where Vasileios was no doubt trying to find them. And ahead of them rested a tiny hamlet with small dwellings clustered together, reminding Prue so much of Krenia that her heart twisted in her chest.

“That’s Faidon,” Cyrus said quietly.

Prue sucked in a breath. Faidon. The gate to the Underworld was somewhere in that village. Just beyond were the peaks of the Astir Mountains, just barely visible through the snow drifting in the air.

“If we walk fast, we can make it there by dusk,” Cyrus continued.

Prue glanced upward toward the sky, but between the murky gray clouds and the swirling flurries around her, it was impossible to see the sun. Still, she trusted Cyrus’s assessment. She’d been unconscious, after all. Had she really slept almost the entire day?

“Are you well?” he asked. If Prue didn’t know any better, she would say he sounded concerned.

“Yes,” Prue said at once, before fully evaluating her needs. She was ravenous, and her limbs were weary, but she no longer felt dizzy or deliriously weak. She was too nervous to check her store of magic to see if it was replenished—between her general reluctance to use magic and Cyrus’s insistence that she didn’t acquire any of Mona’s magic, casting a spell was the last thing Prue wanted to do right now.

She nodded at Cyrus and strode forward, eager to reach their destination and put this journey behind her.

Mona’s imposter changed nothing. According to Cyrus, her soul was still stuck in the Underworld somewhere. And Prue was confident she’d be able to find it and reunite it with her sister’s body.

She could still do this.

By the time they reached the village, the sun had set. A few lampposts bathed the snow-capped square in soft light. The streets were silent and still. Prue knew if they were in Voula City, the town would be bustling, but in this quiet little hamlet, everyone had turned in already.

It didn’t take them long to find an inn. Cyrus slowed behind her, and Prue knew he was recalling his last time here. How much had the village changed since then? How many years had it been?

She didn’t dare ask. Even if she did, she knew he wouldn’t say. They were still strangers to each other, after all. No matter how much Prue felt like she knew him to his core.

He was not her friend. And he never would be.

The thought made her feel strangely hollow inside, but she shoved the feeling away.

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