The others arrive when Chrysaor joins us within my sanctuary. As if sensing his arrival, they all come out to greet him. It’s like a heartfelt reunion between friends who haven’t seen each other in ages, the way they share hugs and congratulations. Asterius and Pan release him and he turns, laughing out loud when he sees Typhon in his human form. He hauls the young man into a rough hug.
“I knew you had it in you, buddy. This is a good look.” Then he looks around in his wide-eyed, appreciative way. “This is like the prison, except not oppressive. I like it.”
Erebus merely watches from the side, giving me a slight nod of approval and a silent mental promise that he has no intention of staying away for long. I get the sense he wants to give the others a chance to bond with me first.
They don’t linger long, though. Each of them makes apologies for having tasks to complete, then disappears. Vesh is noticeably absent, and I suppress a pang of disappointment that borders on resentment. After waking up in his arms, I thought I might finally get more of his attention.
I shouldn’t be upset. There’s a crisis underway, and I need to do my part to be ready when it comes time to fight. What Chrysaor said is true: bonding with them is how I prepare. With this new connection, it’s as we’ve dug the well of potential power even deeper, and I can feel it filling while we lie in his bed, still entwined. I don’t know what I can do with it in a fight, but this is all a good start.
When it’s just myself and Chrysaor left in my sanctuary, I look up at him. “This isn’t so bad, is it, now that you’re here?”
“It’s beyond wonderful. Is this all you?” He turns to look over his shoulder at the elaborate temple that appeared beside the ones dedicated to my other mates, all situated around a central square. A statue of Pegasus rests in the center in a place of honor, and the remainder of the interior resembles Chrysaor’s room with its weapons and practice dummies.
“I think some of it must be you. You’re part of me now.”
He studies me for a beat before closing the distance and kissing me. When I open my eyes, we’re back in his bed, my mental sanctuary a mere glimmer in my imagination.
“What does he think about all this?” he asks, tapping my temple.
I raise my eyebrows. “Vesh? I don’t know. He seemed fine with it when I discovered it this morning. Should it bother him?”
“I guess not. It’s just that it means you’re much more like him than we realized.” He frowns as if a thought just occurred to him.
“What is it?” I ask.
“What if this means you can’t stay? If you’re that powerful at the end of this that you can manifest your own domain, what if it means you can’t coexist here with us? What if you outgrow him and he has to let you leave?”
“What do you mean let me leave? If I need to go, I just go, but this will always be there. You and the others will always be there.” I tap my head, then frown when the look on his face registers. He’s wincing as if he’s just said something he shouldn’t have, and the emotions running down our newly created bond suggest he regrets his words.
When he doesn’t answer, I pull away and sit up, staring down at him when he rolls onto his back. His wings flex and his upper body elevates slightly as he reaches for me, but I pull back.
“What did you mean, Chry?” I press.
He grimaces, then sighs. “Nemea, no one just leaves Tartarus. This is a prison, in case you missed it. Not just for the actual inmates, but for the guards too.”
A pit opens in my gut that feels nothing like that deep well filling with power. This one is dark and cold, and filled only with betrayal. I really hope he’s wrong. “But he took some of you with him yesterday. You were gone.”
“We weren’t here, but we weren’t outside the prison either. When he summons us for an excursion, we’re effectively outside, but our bodies rest in a sort of limbo while we inhabit copies of him. He has the power to send us back at his whim. We don’t actually exist in the world on our own. Pan’s the only one of us who has actually escaped in our entire time here, and that didn’t last long.”
His upper lip makes a slight twitch against one of his tusks and his gaze darts away for a second. Through our bond, I can sense him carefully walling off a thought.
“What is it?” I demand. “What are you hiding? If I’m going to keep trusting any of you, I need to know.”
He sits up all the way, his big wings shuddering and straightening themselves against his back again. His gaze has turned wary and he glances at the door to the prison as if wishing for someone to rescue him from this conversation. The look pisses me off, but I bite my tongue.
“Was I really just brought here to be everyone’s fuck toy?” I snap. “Tell me the truth!” His hesitance to talk is making me frantic, my voice turning shrill. Have I made a monumental mistake coming here?
His eyes widen and his head snaps back around to look at me. “What? No! We were all surprised by your very existence. None of us believed we could ever have a fated mate, yet here you are. You are not a slave, Nemea. If I could help you leave, I would, though it would break my fucking heart. But it isn’t within my power.”
His voice breaks and his eyes go glassy, but it does little to assuage my rising agitation. Did Vesh really lie to me when he said I could leave whenever I wanted to?
“What are you holding back?” I grit out, chilled to the bone as I brace myself for his answer.
He winces again when I glare at him, and that’s when the entire prison seems to shudder. I blink in alarm, because I’m almost positive it isn’t me; I’ve managed to gain enough control over my power not to cause earthquakes without meaning to.
“He’s afraid you’ll hate him for keeping it from you,” comes Typhon’s resonant voice within my head, the shaking subsiding once he speaks. “There are three of us, besides Vesh, who are capable of leaving. We just choose to stay because there is nothing in the human world for us.”
I refocus on Chrysaor. “Typhon told me three of you are able to leave. Which of you can go? Are you one of the three?”
He clenches his jaw and he shakes his head, then closes his eyes and takes a deep, fortifying breath. “The Brothers Bane can leave if they choose—Vesh, of course, since he is the prison, and Typhon and Erebus. The third is Alcides, who was never a prisoner to begin with, unlike the rest of us. Myself and the other guards were conscripted.”
“Did you know he was keeping me here?” I yell, directing the thought as forcefully as I can at the two brothers as well as Vesh, wherever the fuck he is right now. All I know is he’s not here, and the fact that he kept this from me leaves me hot with rage.
No one answers, but I guess it was a rhetorical question. They must have known. Typhon projects back regret and disappointment, and I soften my harsh thoughts toward him. He didn’t know. That’s something, at least.
I stare at Chrysaor accusingly, only slightly moved by the hurt in his eyes. “Did you know he told me I could leave whenever I wanted? Well, now I want to go.” I raise my head again and yell at the top of my voice. “Did you hear me, you asshole? Now I want to go! Take me the fuck home!”
Still no answer, but I can sense alarm and uncertainty from my bond with the others.
I scramble off the bed and hurriedly dress.
I fucking hate feeling this way—helpless, trapped. This is the one thing I never wanted to feel again, and for a brief moment, I believed I finally had all the choices in the world. All the fucking freedom. Or was on my way to claiming it. But I guess it was all just another fucking lie.
I head back the way we came in as Chrysaor scrambles off the bed, calling after me. When I fling the glass door open and am faced with the winding dungeon corridor, I curse and slam it shut again. The glass vibrates under the force, but doesn’t shatter, though part of me wishes it had.
“Where’s the fucking way out?” I snap, pacing back the other direction. Asterius led me through a different door when we first entered his chambers, so I go back past Chrysaor’s bed and the wall containing his collection of intricate masks. I recognize a few as representations of the other guards. Were they all hiding behind masks? Is it uncharitable of me for thinking that when I haven’t even met them all?
I find the door just as he catches up to me. He grabs my arm. “Nemea, don’t. You can’t leave. Please, don’t leave.”
“The fuck I can’t. Watch me.” I yank my arm out of his grasp and slam my hand against his chest. He goes flying halfway back across the room, stunned and frantically flapping his wings to keep from falling flat on his ass. I turn back to the open entry—just like Asterius’ room, there’s not a proper door, just a wall that obscures an open entryway. Beyond that is a corridor leading to the stairs.
I’m running when I reach them, heading up and winding around and around toward the top. I’m not even winded by the time I reach Vesh’s room. I grab my bag and head up the stairs again, toward the uppermost bridge and the monolithic black doors I saw when I first arrived.
If there are doors, then there must be a way out.