Page 3 of Thorn & Ash

Mona shook the thought from her mind as another splash of water hit her in the face. Even the ocean was chastising her for her superficial thoughts.

It didn’t matter what Evander thought of her. Prue was in danger. And Mona had to save her.

Wear the emerald at all times, Evander had told her. It is the only thing anchoring you to the mortal realm. Without it, you won’t survive.

He had then encouraged her to travel across the Manos Sea toward the dreaded whirlpool that most seafarers avoided. Only after Mona had shown a rather impressive bit of magic had the captain agreed. And even then, he only agreed to get her close enough for a rowboat to take her the rest of the way.

Mona couldn’t blame him. The crew were risking their lives to bring her here. Thank the Goddess they were pious enough to believe her blessed by the deities.

In a sense, she was. Gaia was her mother, after all.

Mona flinched at the reminder. Her entire life had been a lie. She’d believed herself to be an ordinary witch living in a coven on the small island of Krenia. As it turned out, Gaia had just been hiding her daughters away, waiting to use them… but for what purpose? What had the goddess been waiting for?

She had obviously been hiding from someone. But who?

Add this to the long list of questions I have, Mona thought bitterly. She’d spent most of her life buried in the pages of books, seeking answers to her mind’s endless supply of questions. But no matter how much she had researched the gods and goddesses, nothing could tell her the truth of what happened to Gaia except the goddess herself. Books contained histories, but only as people penned them. And if Mona’s suspicions were correct, then her mother wanted to keep her history hidden from the world.

Mona had left Gaia, bound and gagged, in the village of Faidon. Her bitterness and anger had overwhelmed her, along with her sense of urgency in finding Prue.

“This is as far as we go, lass!” bellowed a voice nearby.

Mona jumped, whirling to find the captain clutching the wheel, his hair and beard a ragged, soaked mess about his face.

“Take the lifeboat and go!” he urged. “May the Goddess bless you on your quest!”

Mona clutched her shawl tightly around her, though it did no good since it, too, was drenched. “Thank you!” she cried, though the howling wind drowned out her weak voice. On feeble legs, she staggered toward where the lifeboat was tied to the ship. One of the ropes was frayed, ready to snap, so she didn’t feel too guilty about taking this boat. It would not return.

She hopped inside, and two crewmen lowered her onto the raging sea below. Fear twisted in her heart, tightening in her throat and making it hard to breathe. She clutched at the ring on her finger, twisting it in circles.

I am not a coward. I am not a coward.

Prue had once said the words to her, trying to snap her out of her crippling fear. Now, Mona chanted it to herself, a reminder of why she was doing this.

For her sister. Prue had sacrificed everything to bring Mona back. Mona couldn’t just leave her in the Underworld forever.

I’m coming for you, Prue, she thought. And I’m bringing you home.

Mona lurched forward as the boat met the sea, immediately rocking violently with each wave. She gripped the edges, determined not to fall in just yet. She had to be right on top of the whirlpool before she jumped in. Squinting against the salty spray around her, she made out an eerie mist funneling into a circular cloud.

The whirlpool.

Goddess above, she was really going to do this.

Her terror intensified, numbing her chest into a hard block of ice. For a moment, she sat there, stunned and immobilized.

I am not a coward.

She thought those words again and forced her limbs to move. Her trembling fingers gripped the oars and attempted to steer her toward the whirlpool, but there was no need; it was drawing her forward. Behind her, the Dreamer was already sailing in the opposite direction, and Mona heaved a sigh of relief in knowing the crew was escaping the maw of the whirlpool.

If she’d been responsible for their deaths, she would’ve never forgiven herself.

Dive into the heart of the whirlpool, Evander had said. But you must be alive until the very last moment, otherwise you will only cross over like the rest of the dead.

After everything Prue had gone through to bring Mona back from the dead, now Mona was about to risk it all. The irony almost made her laugh.

For you, Prue, she thought. The boat lurched again, jostling her from side to side as it careened toward the roaring whirlpool in front of her.

Mona’s heart jolted as a shadowy shape took form underneath the waves. It must’ve been her imagination. Her fear playing tricks on her, surely.

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