Page 35 of The Fifth Gate

Her eyes glow an icy blue, inhumanly bright. “Go, daughter of Aphrodite.”

The snows close in, blinding, a blizzard roars around us. I cling to Adonis, terrified that he’s going to be torn away from me again. His arm slips around my waist, holding me to his warm chest, shielding me from the nipping teeth of the snow.

The winds die just as suddenly as they whipped up, and I turn to snap at Morevna. What the heck was that all for? But the Death Goddess is gone. The whole damn palace is gone. We’re standing on the edge of her domain, looking down onto the vast valley and forest of conifers all flocked in snow like something out of a Christmas card. Before us is an archway all carved out of ice. Around the edges, there are birds and beasts and scenes of winter.

The Gate to the Third Garden. Morevna sent us right to it.

Tension spills out of me in the form of a slightly hysterical giggle. I guess the Goddess of Death isn’t big on goodbyes.

Ares doesn’t hesitate. The snow creaks under his boots as he marches for the archway and passes through it. The second he’s through, he vanishes from sight.

We need to go, but this also might be the only time I have alone with Adonis. I grab his arm before he can follow the God of War through the gate.

“Hey. I need to talk to you. About Ares.” It sounds so weak and stupid out loud. And I’m sure he can hear the guilt in my voice, but he deserves my honesty at least.

Adonis glances at me, and his face softens. “Now isn’t the time. We can speak later.” He smiles then, flashing the dimple in his cheek. “We’ll have all the time in the world, Penelope, once we’re out of here and we’ve taken your sister safely home.”

He’s right, of course. There are a lot of things we need to talk about. But in this moment, standing at the edge of the gate, all I can feel is a rush of relief that it sure sounds like he’s planning on sticking around for longer than just getting back to the human world. It’s enough to make my knees feel watery.

“Alright.” I take his hand and slot my fingers through his. “Let’s go, then.”

We step through the gate together, and a hot wind buffets us as we emerge into the Third Garden, into Erio’s Library.

Ares is waiting for us in the room draped in hundreds of scrolls. Erio is there too, in his loose red pants and blue knee-length tunic. His face is drawn into tight, angry lines, but he softens when Adonis and I come piling out of the gate.

“Penelope,” he says, voice warm. He glances at Ares before his gaze switches to me again. “You’re alright.”

I open my mouth to answer him, but the relics all buzz again. My heart leaps into a gallop. There’s no time left. We have to go.

I turn a desperate look towards Erio, and he must understand at least a little of what I’m trying to say without words, because with a word and a gesture, the sirocco wind slips free from mine and Adonis’s armor. It’s joined by a gale that whips up around us, sand and fog woven through the currents of air, and when the wind clears, we’re past the river and at the borders of Erio’s Garden.

“Come on!” I drag Adonis forward, racing for the sandstone arch that will take us to the Second Garden. I can feel Ares moving behind us, his dark presence looming, but I don’t slow down.

We pile through the gate, and a fresh mountain breeze slaps me in the face. I stumble a little, and both Adonis and Ares react, their hands snapping out to grab me before I can pitch down the side of the red rock mountain that the gate grove is seated on.

They exchange a look, but don’t comment as I get my footing.

I don’t see Andjety anywhere, which has desperation setting its claws into my ribs. Without the help of the Lord of the Second Garden, that means we’re going to have to traverse the realm back to the gate, and considering that this place has mountains that make the Rockies look like an ant hill, that’s going to take the kind of time we just do not have, if the way the relics are pulsing is any indication.

Before I can decide to just start scrambling down the nearly sheer side of the mountain, there’s an odd sound from above.

Craning my head back, I catch a glimpse of enormous black wings. A vulture circles the air above us, one so large that its wingspan is twice the length of my extended arm. It banks and wheels closer, until it circles the top of the mountain, taking us in with blood-red eyes.

Andjety.

I don’t know if the other gods managed to send word, or if he could just sense the desperate need rolling off me, but Andjety doesn’t seem inclined for greetings or drawn-out chit-chat. He flies a tight circle around us, close enough that I can hear the hiss of the wind through his feathers.

One powerful sweep, and dark feathers rain from his wings. They fill the air, as if the night itself were falling to the earth in pieces. His feathers hang in the sky, buffeted by the breeze, and block out the surrounding mountains, the gate, even the sky. Just before the vulture vanishes into the downy soft storm, one red eye closes in a deliberate wink.

The feathers vanish like fog burning off in the sunshine, and when I blink again, we’re standing at the ivy-wrapped archway of the Gate to the First Garden.

There’s pressure behind my eyes, tears threatening to spill just from the tension and the joy. I have only enough time to wave at the vulture as he soars back up into the faultlessly blue arch of the sky, and then Ares, Adonis, and myself all pile through the gate.

Ereshkigal is waiting there, a fierce grin on her face, in the lovely garden surrounding the gate as we all burst through. She takes one look at all of us, her gaze dropping to the relic hanging from my throat, and she throws her head back, wild, joyful laughter spilling from her mouth.

“Go, daughter of Aphrodite. Hurry!”

She gestures, and the world turns soft and mutable, like dribbling water on a painting, the colors all blurring together. I get a dizzying impression of flowers and trees, or the walls of the palace, and then I’m standing on the sandy shores of a gorgeous cerulean sea.

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