Lyre ducked behind the overturned desk as Dulcet’s spell blasted it like a spray of gunfire. Clutching his bow, he gritted his teeth and tried to think through the burning pain and exhaustion.

How long had his brothers had him chained in that room? He wasn’t sure. He’d lost consciousness during the first round of questioning, only to wake in the lower level examination room where Dulcet had arrived to begin the next round. But they’d barely begun when a series of explosions had rocked the building.

Lyre wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but Clio’s appearance had almost given him a heart attack.

He glanced at the yawning doorway, filled with darkness, and hoped he hadn’t made a mistake by sending her down there. But disarming the ward was a safer task than facing down Dulcet. He pressed his back to the makeshift barricade and wondered how the hell he was going to win this fight. His magic reserves were pathetically diminished, and physically, he wasn’t doing much better.

“Hiding, Lyre?” Dulcet called in a singsong voice. “Come out and play with me. I want to know how you survived my death spell.”

A magic spark pulsed through the room as his brother activated a new weaving.

“I worked so hard to make that spell irreversible,” Dulcet continued in a pout. “On the plus side, since you survived, I can test the next version on you. And this time I’ll get to see what happens.”

Lyre snarled silently. His fingers brushed over the fletching of his arrows, searching for something that could pierce Dulcet’s shields.

Another pulse rippled through the room. Soft spots of gold bloomed everywhere as though they were standing in a field of stars. The orbs drifted randomly and Lyre shrunk back even though none were nearby.

An orb floated close to the wall and touched the stone. The sphere ruptured, spikes shooting from its center. A lethal golden starburst pierced the stone and lodged there.

Well, shit. Lyre pulled his limbs in tighter, but he couldn’t see what was behind him and if one of those lights touched the other side of the desk, it would impale him right through the steel. Grabbing the chain around his neck, he used a precious drop of magic to activate a spell.

Yellow light flashed out, taking the shape of a dome that passed through the desk and floor, protecting him from every angle. Once it had formed, the light solidified into a transparent barrier.

An orb drifted closer and touched his shield. It splintered into spikes that tore right through the barrier. The starburst hung in place, its longest spears only a foot away from Lyre’s flesh.

Dulcet laughed softly.

Lyre hunched his shoulders as a second, third, then fourth orb connected with his shield and burst open, tearing more holes. The barrier wouldn’t last much longer. He gripped the chain around his neck. He couldn’t defeat Dulcet, not like this. But he didn’t need to beat his brother. He just needed to delay Dulcet long enough to make a break for it.

His fingers closed over a gemstone. It would require a lot of magic to activate—most of his pathetic reserves. But it would delay Dulcet. For how long, he couldn’t be sure. With no better plan, he snapped the gem off and flooded the weave with power. A fierce glow lit the stone.

In the same motion, he dispelled his barrier and flung the gem into the center of the room. It hit the concrete and light raced across the floor and up over the walls. From the gem, a larger bloom of light rose like a cloud, materializing into a rough shape. With a final flash, the spell manifested.

A beast rose onto its short hind legs, drool hanging from its jowls. Its massive shoulders bulged, its white mane shifting against the dark fur that covered the rest of its body. It swung its thick arms wide, giant claws spread. It was identical to the rock bears that inhabited the desolate peaks of the northern mountains, except the creature shimmered with a golden hue.

Dulcet cackled. “Impressive illusion, brother. Do you think I’m so easily frightened?”

The bear lumbered forward, fangs exposed. It passed right through the glowing orbs without touching them, heading straight for Dulcet. His brother folded his arms and smirked when the bear raised a bulging arm and swung it.

The giant paw hit with a bone-cracking thud and Dulcet flew into the wall.

Not just an illusion. An illusion and a hell of a lot more.

It wasn’t a match for a master weaver—or even most warriors since it followed a choreographed set of simple movements—but Lyre hoped it would keep Dulcet busy for a few minutes. Leaving his creation to do its job, he crawled beneath the drifting orbs and into the dark threshold. Jumping up, he sprinted into the darkness.

The stairs went on and on, descending deep beneath the building. When he whipped around the last corner and saw Clio slumped against the wall beside the door, his heart seized in his chest. But before he could panic, she tilted her head and squinted at him. His heart stuttered back to life and he rushed to her side. Her face was ghostly pale and her smile didn’t reach her dull eyes. He glanced at her arm. The wound under the strips of fabric had to be deep, but he didn’t have the time or the magic to heal it.

They didn’t speak as he helped her up and wrapped an arm around her waist. Kicking the heavy door open, he pulled her into the space beyond.

Her steps faltered. “What … is this place?”

It wasn’t a room so much as a cavernous chamber of stone and steel, the rough walls supported by lines of rusting pillars. A handful of iron doors were embedded in the rock on one side, but it was the structure dominating the space that held Clio’s attention.

Steel beams and heavy cables in coiled bunches formed two towers twenty feet apart. Between them, a band of bluish-green light crackled and danced like arcing electricity.

“This,” Lyre muttered, “is Hades’s most dangerous secret.”

“But that looks like …” Disbelief crept into her tone. “Is that ley line energy?”

He nodded and steered her past the towers, giving them a wide berth, then pushed her into a jog, heading into the pitch-black emptiness of the chamber’s farthest end.

“How can there be ley line energy down here?” she demanded, clutching his arm. “Why is it going through that—that machine? How is it even possible to—”

“Can we talk about it later?” he asked, increasing their pace. The cavern’s back wall loomed, a darker shadow in their path. “I could only delay Dulcet, and I have no idea how long before he—”

A metallic bang reverberated through the chamber. Lyre jerked to a stop so fast that Clio fell. He couldn’t pause to help her as he spun around.

Dulcet charged toward them, moving unnaturally fast. Shimmering light coated his legs—a speed-enhancing weave.

Lyre snatched three arrows from his quiver and nocked one, the other two pinched against his palm as he drew the string back. A pulse of magic down the shaft activated the spell on the head, and he loosed the arrow.

It shot through the darkness, hit Dulcet directly over the heart, and shattered against his defensive shields.

Lyre nocked the second arrow, activated the spell, and loosed it. Dulcet laughed as the spell hit the exact same spot and splintered in the exact same way. He stormed toward Lyre, closing the distance fast.

Flipping up the third arrow, he activated the spell, took aim, and shot again. The bolt flashed across the mere twenty yards between them and struck Dulcet in the same spot for a third time—and the arrow lodged in his chest. Light flashed, and electricity erupted over Dulcet’s body. He crashed to the ground, convulsing and paralyzed.

Lyre grabbed Clio’s arm and hauled her up again, already running for the back of the cavern.

“You hit the same spot,” she babbled, “three times!”

He shook his head. It hadn’t been that difficult. Dulcet, trusting his protective weaves, hadn’t tried to evade, but Lyre had developed his arrows to pierce shields. It might have taken three bolts to the same spot to break the weave, but it had been enough to get that one spell through Dulcet’s defenses.

Knowing it would identify their location but with no choice, Lyre cast a small light to illuminate their path. The cavern wall loomed, rising fifty feet before it was lost in ancient stalactites.

“A dead end?” Clio yelped.

“No, this way.” He yanked her to the left and there, ahead of them, was an irregular opening—the entrance to the underground cave system. More strength energized her steps as they ran into the tunnel.

“Where does this go?” she asked, panting for air. “What’s down—”

They whipped around a bend and her voice died, her question left unspoken—because the answer was obvious.

A streak of rippling green and blue light danced along the cave floor, following a jagged wall for ten yards before disappearing into solid rock. Various contraptions and machines straddled the ley line, and cords and cables ran back into the main chamber.

“What’s wrong with it?” Clio whispered.

She could feel it too: the way the line’s energy, which should have felt like a warm, rushing river of power, stuttered and buzzed like flames in a downpour. A bizarre sensation, like a blaring screech too high-pitched to hear, scraped at the inside of his skull.

“It’s unstable here,” he answered, guiding her past the undulating light. “We have to go deeper. The line continues farther down.”

“A ley line beneath Asphodel.” She clutched his arm, struggling to keep pace. “And Hades knows it’s here? But the danger of a line right under the town …”

“I told you I know too many secrets to ever leave this place.”

Her fingers dug into his arm, and she reached into the fabric belt around her waist. Her hand reemerged holding a small fabric bag—one he recognized.

“Here,” she said breathlessly. “You’ll need this to travel the line.”

He grabbed the bag and pulled it open with grateful urgency. His lodestones. Damn, the girl came prepared. He dumped them into his palm—a dozen sparkling diamonds, the best precious stone available to store magic.

He clenched his hand around the stones and drained them all, drinking the magic into his exhausted body. Power burned through him, too much at once, but he embraced the pain as strength followed. For the first time since Dulcet had hit him with the death spell, he felt steady. Not at full strength, but no longer on the verge of collapse either.

He shoved the empty lodestones into his pocket and took Clio’s arm again. They followed the twisting cave around another bend, and the gurgle of flowing water joined their thundering footsteps and labored breathing. A narrow river flowed alongside the uneven cave floor, its surface black—but not dark enough to hide the flash of movement beneath the water.

But he didn’t care what might or might not be lurking in the water, because fifty yards ahead, the ley line emerged from the rock and crossed the cave, stopping at the river’s edge. It rippled and danced, beckoning them closer. Escape. All they had to do was reach the line, and they could jump between worlds.

Freedom was fifty yards ahead, and he could almost taste it.

Clio pushed her shoulders straight, gathering the last of her strength for the final sprint. With his arm around her waist and her arm hooked through his, they ran side by side for the wall of light. Its warm, rushing energy whispered across his senses.

An ugly stutter cut through the flowing energy.

Dulcet burst out of the line, blood running down his chest and black eyes blazing with triumph. Lyre skidded, dragging Clio to a stop, unable to believe what he was seeing. Dulcet had jumped down the line—using the unstable patch hooked up to the experimental machinery. Was he insane?

Of course he was. Lyre already knew that. But he still wasn’t fast enough to cast a shield.

Dulcet’s wild blast slammed into Lyre and Clio, hurling them backward. Lyre hit the ground hard, his bow flying out of his hand. It clattered on the stones as he rolled to a stop, ribs aching and lungs empty. His quiver fell off his shoulder as he shoved up onto his knees and looked around wildly for Clio and Dulcet.

The second blast struck him in the side, and he was airborne again. But this time he didn’t land on a rocky floor.

He plunged into icy water and accidentally swallowed a mouthful. Flailing as the sluggish current dragged him away from the rocky ledge, he kicked violently, pushing himself toward the shimmer of light that marked the river’s surface. His head broke free and he gasped for air.

Clio was screaming.

Her cries echoed off the walls, magnified and full of terror and pain. The sound tore through him like a knife, and he lurched toward the rock. Grabbing the edge, he heaved himself up.

Something wrapped around his leg and constricted tightly. Then he was ripped off the ledge and back into the water.

For a second time, he went under. A crushing grip wound around his other leg, then something enclosed his waist, squeezing hard. Blind in the dark water, he grabbed at the thing around his waist, his fingers digging into slimy scales.

Bloody hell. Of all the times to get tangled up with local wildlife. As the aquatic creature dragged him down to the riverbed, he struggled to pry himself free. His weavings were of no use underwater.

Magic couldn’t save him. He needed a weapon.

Dropping his glamour was only too easy. Tingles rushed across his skin, then strength saturated his muscles. The tentacles writhed around him, disliking the pulse of magic. Another one caught his wrist and coiled up his arm.

He hadn’t been carrying any weapons in his glamoured form, but that was no longer the case. With his free hand, he pulled a throwing knife from the sheath on his forearm and jammed the blade into the tentacle holding his other arm. The scaled limb jerked away. Pulling another knife, he stabbed both into the creature and dragged them through the tough flesh.

The squeezing pressure disappeared, and he could feel the current pulling him again. Uninterested in prey that fought back, the creature had abandoned him.

Knives at the ready, Lyre shot for the surface. His head burst out of the water, and this time the cavern was quiet—and that terrified him. He swam for the ledge and dragged himself out of the river.

Twenty feet away, Dulcet crouched over Clio. He held her by the front of her shirt, watching her slack face with rapturous intensity.

Lyre drew his arm back and flung the knife. With Dulcet’s shields, it would merely bounce off, but anything to distract him from Clio. The knife whipped through the darkness—and impaled Dulcet’s lower back.

Dulcet shrieked in pain and shock, dropping Clio. Surprise cut through Lyre too. He had damaged one spot in Dulcet’s shield, but the rest of it should have been near full strength. So how …

His gaze darted to Clio, slumped on the ground, unmoving. Had she broken Dulcet’s weave while Lyre was underwater?

Dulcet yanked the blade from his back and spun around. Lyre hurled the second dagger. Dulcet flicked his fingers in a simple cast, knocking it out of the air, but Lyre was already charging in after it. Out of glamour, with his daemon strength to aid him, he flew across the distance and slammed his fist into Dulcet’s face.

Dulcet staggered back, then his body shimmered as he too dropped glamour. His hair paled further, glistening radiantly in the dim light, but his face changed for the worse. Ragged scars dragged down the left side of his face, mangling his features. But his smile was just as deranged as usual.

Lyre threw another punch and Dulcet caught it. For a moment, they stared at each other with equally black eyes.

Then they attacked. Magic burst from them, casts and shields flying as fast as their blows. With unbridled violence, they hammered on each other, too close to use weaves or lodestones. Lyre drove into his brother, pushing him farther and farther from Clio, who still hadn’t moved. Dulcet roared and snarled, feet digging into the floor.

Lyre swung his fist, coated in magic. Dulcet threw up an arm, the limb shielded, and Lyre hit the barrier in a fiery blaze. He kicked Dulcet in the gut. His brother staggered backward, and Lyre thrust out his hand, magic sparking over his skin.

His palm hit Dulcet’s sternum—no shield between his blast and his brother’s chest. Dulcet crashed to the floor. For an instant, Lyre was confused as to why Dulcet hadn’t shielded against that blow.

Then, from the ground, Dulcet grinned as he grabbed at the chains around his neck, and Lyre realized his mistake.

He launched forward, but too late. With the time and space to use a lodestone, Dulcet activated a skin-tight shield spell to replace the one Clio had destroyed. Lyre skidded to a stop, reaching for his chains, but Dulcet was already lunging up, and another gem flashed.

An invisible force rammed into Lyre. He sailed through the air, hit the ground, and tumbled across the ground.

“A good fight, Lyre,” Dulcet called. “But now … by what method would you like to die?”

Lyre shook his head, struggling to focus his eyes and unsure if all his bones were still intact. Laboring for every movement, he pushed onto his knees. His brother stood remarkably far away. How far had the spell thrown him?

Dulcet sorted through his chain of spells. “I’m feeling rather generous since I get you and the girl, so I’ll let you choose how you’d like to meet your death.”

A few feet away, his bow lay on the rocks, miraculously in one piece. Three yards behind him, Clio was still unconscious. Lyre glanced back at the ley line, measuring the distance. Then he stretched his arm out and grabbed the bow. Each movement stiff with pain, he staggered to his feet.

“Oh?” Dulcet smiled. “You still want to play with me?”

Lyre reached over his shoulder. All his arrows were safely lodged in the quiver, held in place by a spell that kept them from falling out. His fingers brushed across the fletching.

“Really, Lyre. You already know a single arrow can’t break my shields. And this time I won’t let you keep shooting me.” He plucked a gemstone off his chain. “This one, I think. I’ll get to hear your screams for quite a while with this one.”

Lyre drew an arrow with black fletching and laid it against the bow, cradling the shaft between his hand and the leather-wrapped grip. Dulcet raised his arm over his head as light flashed over his gem. Magic erupted around him, spiraling out from his feet in blades of red-tinted gold.

“You can’t defeat me, Lyre,” Dulcet cackled as the weaving blazed even brighter. “You’re too soft, too timid. You don’t have a single truly destructive spell, and that will be your undoing.”

Still laughing, he wiped his fingers across his bleeding back, painting his skin red. He clapped his bloody hand over the gemstone and the blades of magic flashed from rose to eerie crimson.

“You won’t even weave blood magic!” he trumpeted.

Lyre lifted the bow, and as he drew the string back, he pulled it farther than needed—pulled it until the arrowhead cut into his hand. As he flooded the arrow with magic, he relaxed his arm, bringing the bow back to proper draw, and aimed at his brother.

The pointed tip, glistening with his blood, glowed crimson.

Dulcet’s triumph faltered as he stared at the arrow—and realized how wrong his last statement had been.

Lyre relaxed his fingers and the arrow snapped away. It flashed across the distance between them, speeding toward Dulcet. Crimson light blazed as the arrow reached him, then it blasted onward down the long cave, unhindered.

Dulcet stood for a moment longer, jaw hanging open and arms still raised as though unable to comprehend the gaping hole in his chest where his heart, lungs, and ribs had once been.

Lyre whirled around, already running as his arrow hit the cave’s far wall.

The detonation screamed back up the tunnel and the floor bucked. Red blades of power launched in every direction, slicing through stone like butter. Lyre stumbled and fell as the first concussive wave slammed across him, but he sprang up. It wasn’t over yet.

He snatched his fallen quiver and threw Clio over his shoulder, then bolted for the ley line.

The howling explosion charged after him, racing him toward the line. Giant chunks of stone plunged into the river and crashed down all around him. He pushed even harder, the line so close, so close!

The blast hit him in the back, throwing him forward. Green light filled his vision and the line’s warmth engulfed him. Rock screamed above his head and the cavern ceiling dropped in a wave of crumbling earth.

Casting a shield over Clio, he flung them both into the screaming oblivion between worlds.