Page 119 of Spellbound
“Seriously?” I sighed aloud.
I cut my hand again, shivering at the eeriness of the lack of pain, and quickly pressed my hand against the symbols before it could heal.
The symbols glowed white, and the blackness of the cave turned misty. A gray fog creeped out like hands reaching into this realm. Inhaling sharply, I extended my hand and moved slowly inside, not sure if I would be returning again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Mist followed me, snakingand hissing as I wandered through the other realm, down into the underworld. A howl reverberated along the rocky ground, taking me back to the night the demon hounds stalked us and wounded Thalia, weakening her and ultimately killing her.
Whispers crawled along my skin as I stepped off the rocky ground and climbed over a ledge and down, ankle-deep, into what appeared to be an endless creek. Scents of sulfur mixed with rotten eggs and seaweed invaded my nostrils. I scrunched my nose, wading through the creek as it deepened. Peering down, I gasped as floating heads stared back with accusing eyes. I carefully moved them out of the way, forcing back the bile that threatened to bite up my throat.
A shiver danced along my skin, spreading an ache through my muscles. I raised my tense shoulders and leaned back when I felt a breath on the side of my neck. Nausea gripped me. A slimy hand stroked my arm, slick fingers curling around my elbow.
I whipped my head around, coming face-to-face with an eyeless demon of the water. His skin was tinged the color of the moss-stricken, stagnant water around us. His white lips were paler than the faces of the floating heads. “Get away.” I dug my nails into his arm and forced him back with medium effort.
The demon’s mouth hung open, too far, with a seemingly endless jaw. “You are a god,” he hissed, his swirling black tongue slipped out like a serpent.
My gaze narrowed as I stepped back. “Yes.”
I blinked twice as he melted—literally melted—and became one with the creek. Climbing out onto the cracked ground, I stared across a crop field with a stick for an absent scarecrow. The wind cooled my skin. A blaring, crimson sunset lowered in the dark sky. My lips parted. Something rustled among the golden crops, rolling in my direction. My breath hitched as adrenaline coursed through my veins, forcing me to run. I turned quickly and watched another rustle in the crops come from the opposite direction.
The game prickled excitement along my skin. My pupils dilated, and my teeth bared. I shook my head. What the... I didn’t want to hunt them. Did I?
Instinctively, I crouched and curled my fingers into the ground, listening acutely for each step and every rustle. Even the sound of the wind blocked in an area told me their exact locations. Their short, shallow breaths told me they were small in stature. Their quick footsteps showed me they were fast, but were they fast enough?
My lips curled at the corners as something animalistic in me took over. I showed my teeth, my fingers shaking at the excitement pulsating in my bones. They were close. I scratched the ground, alerting them to my position. Delight hiccupped their next breaths, and they darted in my direction. On all fours, I watched the crops around me with bulging eyes. Three seconds later, the crops opened, and I stared slack-jawed. Every instinct to hunt, to fight, dissolved. Two little girls, twins it seemed, stared at me with hollow eyes and sad expressions. Their long hair hung to around their waists, over off-white dresses. On their feet were white shoes with pink bows.
“Will you play with us?” they asked in echoed unison.
I stood and stepped back. The way they moved seemed... disjointed. Inhumanly. If they were in the underworld, then they weren’t alive.
One of the girls held out her hand.
I shook my head. “No.”
Her sad expression contorted, fury spilling through her soft features. I stepped back when she stepped forward. Her voice deepened too low for it to belong to a little girl. “You will play with us.”
