Page 86 of Ivy & Bone

“You are no one. You are just a monster leeching the life out of my sister.”

“This isn’t her, Prudence. You know that.”

“She needs her body. I didn’t come all this way just to watch some pathetic, self-centered goddess stand in my way.”

Gaia’s lips thinned as she stared at Prue. But the goddess must have seen the fury burning in Prue’s face because, ever so slowly, she shifted, laying Mona’s body on the concrete before rising to her feet.

“You’re making a mistake,” Gaia said softly. “If you reunite Mona’s soul and body, it will undo her sacrifice.”

“I don’t care,” Prue said at once. “I will offer up myself in exchange.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“And why not?” Prue shouted. “Why do you and the other gods get to make the rules? Why are you the ones who get to decide?” Her voice rose with each word, and the ground quaked again. Prue’s vines had transformed into thick, slimy ropes of a barbed plant she’d never seen before. But some innate instinct told her this plant was venomous. Indeed, as it slid closer to Gaia, the Earth Goddess jerked backward in alarm.

“Prudence—”

Prue sent her magic forward, and the thick vines wrapped around Gaia’s feet, rooting her to the ground.

“You can’t kill me,” Gaia said, her voice becoming shriller. “I created this realm. If you kill me—”

“I know,” Prue spat. Her anger was a part of her now, fused into every facet of her body. She clung to it, because her fury made her powerful. All she wanted to do was destroy her mother.

But she couldn’t. The goddess had indeed created this realm. Even Prue wasn’t foolish enough to tamper with that magic.

“I can, however, prevent you from interfering again,” Prue said with a smirk. Her ivy shot forward, curling around Gaia’s throat and mouth. Gaia uttered a choked sound before her voice was cut off, her lips and chin covered completely. In mere seconds, Prue’s vines had tied her up more efficiently than any ropes or bindings could have. Gaia wriggled her body, but to no avail. She was trapped.

A howl pierced the air, and Prue looked up. The ghosts drifted closer, mingling with the rain pelting from the clouds. Their moans intensified as if the presence of such powerful magic made them hungry and desperate.

Free Mona, Prue told herself. Then get Cyrus to the Underworld. This has taken long enough.

The spirits needed to be returned home.

Prue approached Mona’s limp form and checked for a pulse. Thank the Goddess. She was still alive. With a deep breath, Prue drew on Cyrus’s magic. The cold chill of it bit into her, cutting into her bones.

“Goddess above, grant me power,” Prue said. Her third eye was already alert and ready, her body flowing openly with unrestrained power. “I invoke the death magic of Osiris, god of the Underworld, to summon Pomona Donati.”

Despite the cool rain sliding along her skin, Prue’s skin prickled with awareness, raising small bumps on her arms. The wind intensified, howling louder than the approaching spirits. Prue’s chest swelled with power, the ice of Cyrus’s magic nearly suffocating her. She bit down, hard, to keep from crying out, to keep from succumbing to the pain.

A translucent form appeared before her, barely visible in the rain.

“Mona?” Prue breathed, daring to hope.

“I . . . can’t . . .” Mona’s voice was faint.

“Your body is here, Mona!” Prue shouted, gesturing to her sister’s imposter. “Take it!”

“Spell, Prue,” Mona said, her voice fading. “Cast the spell!”

Shit. What was the spell? Of course Mona would know it; she knew everything. But Prue found herself guessing most of the time—hence how she ended up accidentally married to the god of the dead.

“Trust yourself,” Mona said, her voice gaining strength. “Trust your magic.”

“Right,” Prue whispered. She crouched to the ground, her hands hovering over her sister’s body. Mona’s skin was cool to the touch, and Prue wondered how weak the body was. How long did she have left to live? Would Mona merely die as soon as her body and soul were reunited?

Prue shoved the thoughts from her mind and closed her eyes. “Integro,” she murmured, pressing her hands against Mona’s chest.

Mona’s eyes flew open, but Prue instinctively knew it wasn’t really her sister—just the imposter. The shell of a person Vasileios had been parading around. The girl only blinked blandly at Prue, her face expressionless.

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