I worked my way through the desolate landscape, though it somehow seemed even more ruined than before. The cursed valley’s red earth with its jagged cuts and fissures only reminded me of the torment that awaited me at journey’s end. But that pain was dulled by the ache of leaving Roth and never even saying good-bye. The thought of him, so wild yet gentle at the same time, made me want to turn around and leave this place. We could make a life together away from the gods, and in time, I would even forget the sting of my lost sisters. If only I could see him again, I would run into his arms and stay there.

Instead, I adjusted the kerchief tied around my face and continued on, deeper into the pit from which I knew I’d never return. The carrion birds greeted me with hungry looks as they perched on the petrified trees, barely visible through the sulfur and smoke. Their chattering squawks would have unnerved even the stoutest of hearts. And the dogs, the sigil of Ares, were out there prowling through the fields of bone around the cave entrance. My hand strayed to the satchel slung across my shoulders, and I comforted myself with the thought of all the weapons that lay inside.

Reassured, I began crossing now-hardened molten flows that led toward the entrance of the dark chasm. I picked my way carefully to avoid a misstep, lest I injure myself and hurt my chances to carry out some major retribution against the god of war. I had to anger him enough to kill me quickly, couldn’t risk giving him a way to keep me alive for his pleasure. The thought of being his slave stopped my forward movement, the cold fist of fear pounding into my temple. I couldn’t bear to spend one second as his victim, much less the hundreds of years he’d threatened.

After steadying myself and taking a swallow of water from my canteen, I continued my descent into darkness and death. I had no daydreams of walking out of Ares’s lair alive.

Though I might have hidden the tiniest spark of a hope deep within my heart, I couldn’t think of it now. No one could beat Ares at his own game, and the gods were not simply immortal. They were endless, timeless. I couldn’t kill Ares, because it was incomprehensible. Just as death never came to the rocks beneath my feet, the gods were forever. But I can hurt him.

With that thought I sent up one final prayer to the goddess to give me the strength to finish what I’d started. If Artemis had never heard me before, I could only hope she heard me now, when I needed the goddess’s power the most.

Instead of getting a legion of warrior maidens by my side as I’d requested, I cried out when one of Ares’s dogs lunged out of the haze and latched on to my leg. Another one launched itself onto my back, easily weighing one hundred pounds even in its emaciated state. I took hold of my dagger as a ripping pain erupted when the beast crushed my shoulder blade with its powerful jaws. With an agonized scream, I dropped to my knees, my vision blurring with pain. But there was no reprieve, because now I was eye-level with one of the red-eyed hounds, its teeth bared and dripping saliva.

It lunged for my face, but I was faster, jamming my blade through its rib cage as it let out a death scream. It was enough to make the rest of the pack remain around the periphery but didn’t stop the two that were already on me.

The one on my leg had clamped down like a vise, its canines pinning the skin and bone. One swift stab with my blade had it yelping and running, leaving one of its eyes behind on the tip of my dagger. I fell forward from the weight of the mutt on my back, unable to support myself with the injured leg, and the dog began clawing me, shredding my skin and trying to shake me like a rag doll.

I had no opportunity to reach it with the blade, so I pushed with all the strength left in my legs and jolted up in the air, dropping onto my back and crushing the beast into the sharp rocks that lined the valley floor. It yelped with pain and let go before running off into the gloom.

I sat up, quickly taking stock of my injuries as I reached for my bag. The growls were all around me now, closing in. The hounds no doubt smelled my blood and were anxious for a meal, but I had places to go and gods to piss off. Finally finding what I needed, I blindly tossed a magic bomb toward the guttural sounds and covered my head with my arms. In seconds, there was a deafening roar followed by pained howls. Bingo. I felt the insane urge to laugh as bits of razored rock and dog hair rained all around me, confirming I’d hit at least one of my targets.

“I’ve got a lot more where that one came from, bitches!” My scream shredded through my throat and matched the acid feeling of the bites on my leg and back.

I heard nothing in return, save for the sound of retreating yelps.

Feeling as safe as one could in the deadliest valley in the world, I began searching in my bag once more. I pulled out a flagon of aqua vigoratus, a specialty of the white witches in Paris, before taking a swig and dousing my wounds with it as best I could. It tasted like dirty gym socks smelled, but the effects were nothing short of miraculous. I’d emptied my entire bank account to afford this one dose, but I could tell it was going to be worth it. My wounds stopped stinging almost instantly, and my flesh began sewing itself back together at a rapid pace.

I had hoped to save it for later, in case I needed it for the battle with Ares, but I couldn’t risk being wounded before facing him. Can’t give the bastard even more of an advantage.

Though still smeared with blood, my skin was smooth where it had been ripped only moments ago. I leaned back and tilted the potion bottle to my lips, draining every last drop before casting the bottle into a bubbling pool of magma. It caught fire and melted slowly, breaking down into its elements until it no longer existed. Just like I was about to do. Replacing my kerchief, I dusted myself off and continued toward the obsidian cavern I could just make out in the distance.

My time in the hourglass was almost up, but it didn’t matter anymore. I kept a steady gait and watched for more signs of trouble.

Ares knew I was here, knew I’d come without Roth. But I still had a few tricks up my sleeve even the god of war didn’t know about, and before it was all over, I would enjoy making the son of a bitch bleed.