Asterius spun around, drew the spear back, and then flung it with all his might at the viewing platform. The glass shattered beneath the spear’s impact. Asterius bellowed and then took a running leap toward the platform, grabbing onto the support posts to haul himself up. I could hear shouts even as I hooked my left arm around Cyrus’ front leg as he glided over me. He brought his wings down with a rush of air and then we were on the platform too.
A mix of paranormals including Fae and shifters were already either fleeing or attempting to stop Asterius’ rampage. I joined in the hunt. We killed those who fought, but others we incapacitated.
We chased them from the viewing platform into properly lit and ventilated tunnels. Electric lights shone over marble floors and walls, only the ceiling was the same sandstone as in the labyrinth. I didn’t slow as I chased a group of men down one hall. They were trying to escape somewhere.
“Mathias, close your eyes!”
I immediately obeyed. Then, I heard cries of shock and fear that cut off abruptly. A hand touched my left arm and then Lauren whispered, “You can open them now.”
I did so and was immediately greeted by the sight of a mass of stone statues. Beyond them were four new gorgons. I bowed politely. “Ladies, your timing is wonderful.”
Lauren tugged on my shirt sleeve. “We’ve locked the others in a storage room.”
“Good.” I looked back the way I had come, but didn’t see Asterius or Cyrus. “I think we’ve nearly caught them all.”
“We also found something I think you should take a look at, Mathias. Maybe you can get it to work.”
My brow furrowed at the odd statement. I didn’t get a chance to question her, however, as Lauren grabbed my hand and led me past the gorgons who continued down the hall back the way I had just come. “What happened to the others?”
“Elizaveta and the hellhounds are guarding the storage room. Arachne was inspecting a tunnel to see if it would lead out of here. She’ll report back in thirty minutes with whatever she’s found.” Lauren led me down another marble covered hall and then into what appeared to be an office. The chair at the desk was overturned and papers had been scattered. Other than that, however, it looked to be in decent shape. Then, she gestured to a wall insert.
I frowned as I approached it. “I think this is a mez.”
“What’s that?”
“A mezarium, the High Elves invented it to take sound waves and turn them into images.” My frown deepened as I ran a hand over its sides. “Last I heard, only the ambassadors from the New World had these installed anywhere in the Old World. The Therian shifters like to use them. I wonder . . .” I moved closer to the machine and then spoke. “I need to contact a Therian ambassador.”
The mez blazed with blue light, which I hope meant it was working and not about to blow up. I repeated myself. “I need to contact a Therian ambassador. Can anyone hear me? I need to speak with a Therian ambassador at once.”
The light pulsed as a roar sounded, and then a man’s face appeared out of the blue waves. He looked at me and some type of cat ghosted across his face. “Who are you?”
“Not important. Are you an ambassador of the Therian shifters?”
The man’s upper lip curled and his voice trembled with a snarl. “I am Therian. I am Constantine Kemp of the Therian delegation to Greece. Who are you, and how did you gain access to our communication system?”
“Look, I’m no one to be concerned with,” I said impatiently. “What you need to worry about, Ambassador Kemp, is that this mez was built into the facility of the Cretan labyrinth.”
“There’s no mez system to Crete.”
“That’s where I am,” I countered. I glanced at Lauren who nodded. She held up a notepad, and I nodded before turning back to the ambassador’s glowing face. “We are in the original labyrinth built by Daedalus approximately fifteen kilometers east of Knossos. We’ve captured members of the Minos Guild.”
“How?”
I smirked. “They tried to capture us first.”
The Therian shifter frowned and then the cat crossed his face again, briefly flickering his human features away. “I want a name.”
“Mathias. The dragon prince of Thrace knows me and can vouch that I’m not attempting to pull you into a trap.” I paused a beat before continuing, “I have no quarrel with the Therian shifters. I just need help getting others and myself out of here. Besides, cutting off the heads of the Minos Guild would do you some good too, wouldn’t it?”
The shifter nodded. “Very well. I will contact the dragon princes. Then, we will come to you. And, Mathias, do not attempt to leave Crete without speaking to me. I have more questions for you.”
“Of course, ambassador,” I agreed mildly.
He moved away, and the blue glow of the mez died away. I stepped back and immediately pulled Lauren into my arms. “All right?”
“Yes. Are you?”
I kissed the top of her head. “I can’t complain.” I paused before deliberately adding in a droll tone, “Although, I’ve no doubt that I shall feel differently after I’m forced to play nice with the Therians. They can be so tetchy, especially if they’re officials in their people’s bureaucracy and don’t play nicely with other paranormals.”
Lauren gave a soft laugh. “Please, Mathias, promise me one thing.”
“Anything for you, love.”
She wrapped her arms around me and peered up at me. “Please promise me that you won’t needle or otherwise poke at these shifters. It’s bad enough when you do it to the dragons. Please don’t do it with them.”
I chuckled in spite of myself. “Oh, all right. Although it is a great sacrifice in a very personal manner, I shall endeavor to behave myself and resist taking any of the inevitable openings these shifters leave for needling and poking.”
“Thank you for your sacrifice,” she said drily.
I kissed her lips. “I knew you would appreciate the lengths of my despair over these conditions.”
“Mathias, don’t tempt me to slap you right now. I’ll probably end up crying if I do.”
“Yes, dear.”
* * *
Chapter Twelve
Mathias
“Figured I’d find you here.”
I didn’t look around at the voice. Instead, I squinted at the afternoon sky before I replied, “I’m on a rooftop courtyard. Not exactly trying to hide.”
“You only say that because I found you.” I could hear the smirk in Royal’s voice as he stepped up beside me and propped his arms on the wall, leaning forward until his bearded profile came into view. “It’s a nice view of Heraklion.”
“Got tired of Knossos.”
“A week trapped in the labyrinth of myth would do that to a body,” he agreed. He paused and then asked, “What’s that you have?”
I glanced down at the photo in my hands. “Nothing for you to be sticking your nosy beak into, dragon.”
He tugged it out of my grip before I could put it away. He stared at it for a long moment before he grinned. “You’ve turned sentimental. What is this?”
“If you don’t know how to recognize an ultrasound by now, Royal, dragons are even more clueless about babies than I always assumed.”
I attempted to nab, it but he held it out of reach. “Hold on. Yes, now I see it.”
“See what?”
“The resemblance to you, naturally.”
“And, what might that be?”
Royal’s mouth twitched before he rumbled, “This one has a big head too. Must’ve inherited it from you.”
I snatched the photo out of his grubby hands and quickly smoothed it. “Stop that. I don’t have a big head. Dragons have big heads. My head is a perfectly decent and appealing size.” He started laughing, and I rolled my eyes. “Shut up, Royal. And, don’t ever let Lauren hear you suggest anything might be wrong with the baby. She’ll likely kill us both with a skillet to the head.”
He laughed harder. “Giving you a hard time, is she?”
“No.” I glanced back at the door leading into the flat below and then murmured under my breath, “She’s just likely to never speak to me again if we have another week like this last one.”
“Thought you were in the labyrinth a fortnight ago.”
“We were. This last week we’ve been recuperating, and I got a healer to come look her over just to be sure the baby’s all right.” I tucked the photo in my shirt’s front pocket as I continued, “Unfortunately, Lauren started panicking that Weard was going to find out about the baby. Apparently, there was a nightmare of some type involved. All I know is she smacked me in the face with a pillow, and then started planning.”
“Where was she planning to go?”
“Away from me apparently,” I stated drily. I waited for Royal to stop laughing long enough for him to straighten up before I attempted to say anything else. “If you are quite finished . . .”
The dragon chuckled, his dark eyes changing to fiery orange. “Your wife is my new favorite person in this world. This is better than listening to Peter complain about some Fae he’s at loggerheads with in the States.”
“I’m so pleased to have amused you,” I intoned. “May I push you off the roof now?”
“Go ahead, I’ll just fly and blame you for why any norms saw a man sprout dragon wings.”
“Right.” I glanced out at the sea and then turned back to Royal. “Why are you really here?”
He didn’t answer right away. His gaze darted to the door leading inside as he answered with a question of his own. “Where’s Lauren, Mathias?”
“She’s napping and hopefully not dreaming.” I fixed my old friend with a stern look, noting the fact that his eyes hadn’t changed back to normal. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“The ambassadors and dragon princes and Fae are still clearing out the Minos Guild’s headquarters. Trying to go through documents and such. They got the gorgons to release their prisoners from the stone, but most of the ones you captured either aren’t talking or don’t know anything useful. They just monitor the labyrinth and supply paranormals for the sales.”
“I already heard all this two days ago from the Therian ambassador, Constantine.” I flicked my hand impatiently. “Spit it out, man. What really brought you here?”
Royal fell silent. Tension seeped through me, coiling my muscles into readiness to fight or run. Whatever had the dragon so quiet was probably not a good thing. At the very least, he didn’t like what he had to say either.
“Are you carrying a message?”
He nodded. “The dragon princes summoned me here because you gave your name to the Therians. They want me to pass on an offer. Protection for Lauren on the condition you come to a meeting with the entire draconic council.”
I was shaking my head before he even stopped speaking. “No. I told the dragon prince of Venice my position on getting involved in their wars again. I won’t put Lauren through that, and I am not going to hand her over to them to be held as an unofficial hostage until the dragons decide they’ve no further use for me.”
“Mathias, I know you’ve no use for these quarrels but war is coming. Don’t you think it is a little late to try and hide from it? When you and Lauren have managed to land in the middle of almost every quagmire Weard and their rogue leader have thrown at the dragons and the Fae?”
I shook my head. “No. I am going to do my part. Remove a particular weapon from Weard’s reach, but then I am taking Lauren and we are disappearing. I won’t get involved in another dragon war.” Lowering my voice, I leaned in close as I demanded, “What do you think the council would do if they found out Lauren’s pregnant with my child? Do you really think they would leave us be? Let another Myrmidon be born into the world?”
Royal met my gaze steadily, his eyes still fiery orange. “They would take the child from you both. Then, they would take measures to prevent the two of you from having any others. They want your knowledge, but a child . . . They wouldn’t welcome it, not the majority.”
“And, you would have me turn myself over to them?”
He scratched at his close cropped beard. “I said only that I would deliver the message to you, if I found you. I didn’t say I would do anything other than report back an answer to the offer of a meeting.” Royal studied me for a moment before his gaze flicked to my shirt pocket. “The council did not require any other news, and I see no reason to send them into a panic when they need to be clearheaded and focused on the far more serious threat of Weard.”
“How long do we have?”
“Two days at the most.” He paused and then said in an undertone, “When my cousin was complaining about his difficulties, he mentioned that Titan airships were being pulled out of the eastern half of the Mediterranean until further notice due to the incidents with the dragons in September. There are currently three docked here in Crete. I suggest going to the one at Malia. I hear it will take off in an hour, didn’t hear the destination.”
I nodded. “Thank you, old friend.”
“May the next time we meet be under happier circumstances,” he murmured.
I rushed inside without waiting to see him leave. It was better this way. Lauren was still sleeping when I entered our bedroom. I shook her shoulder gently. “Lauren, sweetheart, wake up.”
She blinked blearily at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, the dragon prince of Venice has started filling the council’s heads with ideas about how to force my cooperation.” I offered a quick smile. “Grab your satchel and your shoes. I’ll get everything else.”
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know. Away from Crete. We’ll need to see where we land after that before figuring out our next move.”
She studied me for a moment and then sat up. “We need to go to Mount Etna.”
“I know. But, first we need to avoid some overly zealous dragons.”
* * *
Lauren
I woke up as a shadow passed over the cabin window. A shudder ran through me, and I pressed back into Mathias’ hold as I caught a glimpse of a dragon’s wing outside the porthole. The airship we had boarded after escaping from Crete to Morocco was now under dragon escort. A precaution, the captain assured everyone through the speakers, to ensure there wouldn’t be any other unpleasant situations with reckless juveniles. Heading to Sicily had been more difficult than we expected, and we were forced to wait three days before Mathias found an airship heading in that direction.
Mount Etna’s continued sleeping pains, as Mathias called them, had caused some of the difficulty as plumes of smoke and ash grew heavy enough to close the airports on the eastern side of the island. Instead, we were on an airship that would dock at Palermo, the capital of Sicily. I rested a hand on my stomach. I was a day shy of fourteen weeks, and I was tired of being on the run. A private little island somewhere in the Pacific sounded more appealing by the day.
But, we weren’t done yet. We had to keep the Crown of Nimrod from falling into Weard’s hands. I couldn’t just take the pieces I had and leave everything, no matter how tempting. I needed to see this through to the end. After Etna, if we found only one piece, we would go into hiding again. Because I didn’t know where else the missing pieces would have been taken and if Weard couldn’t find the entire crown, that would have to be enough.
The crown . . . I hadn’t opened the box since we escaped the labyrinth. It had never seemed to be the right time and then I was recuperating. After several restless minutes where I tried and failed to go back to sleep, I squirmed out of Mathias’ hold and slipped from the berth.
Sinking to my knees, I pulled the satchel out from the storage space beneath the berth. Opening it, I found the box tucked under head shawls and the jade figurines of a doe and fox. How my keepsakes had survived this long, I wasn’t sure. My fingertips brushed across them before I pulled the box out. I could sense the muted power inside and it only became stronger when I opened the lid. Numbers flashed across the surface of the cro
wn and then disappeared as an urge wrapped around me. It tugged at me. My fingers twitched toward the wrapped pieces. I needed to fit them together.
“Lauren.”
I blinked and changed the direction of my hand to carefully grasp the scroll instead. I didn’t let myself brush against the exposed crown pieces as I pulled the scroll out. Then I closed the lid, muting my awareness of the crown pieces once more. Moving to sit on the edge of the berth, I left the box resting on the cabin floor.
Mathias’ presence against my back offered an anchor, and I leaned into him as I started to unroll the scroll. Mathias grabbed a flashlight and directed it at the scroll. I blinked as I squinted at it. It was a map of some type. Actually, it almost looked like blueprints or diagrams. I focused on the anvil. “I think this is the Forge of Hephaestus.”
There was some sort of ancient script, more chiseled blocks with faint variations between them, not anything I recognized. I tilted the map toward the light a little more. “Can you read it?”
“No. It’s not a language I’ve seen before. It’s not even Myrmidon or Greek.” Mathias leaned closer, his warmth a little more distracting now, as he murmured more to himself than to me, “It might be Etruscan or cuneiform. Or . . . maybe a variant of Phoenician.”
I continued studying the map. I needed to understand, but how . . . when neither of us could read the language it was written in, much less figure out what it meant? Then, something changed. I blinked twice, but the change stayed. Gold letters floated above the foreign script. Clear, if somewhat translucent, and in Turkish. If this was something Spotters could always do, I had never learned of it. And, I had never experienced it before.
I stared at the golden calligraphy and then read it in a low whisper, instinctively falling into Turkish as I did so.
“Beneath Etna where Typhon’s poison plumes
Through heat and waters where Hephaestus looms
Blast of bellows, ring of hammer growing cold
Shards of Vulcan’s wrath of old
Quests by Numbers (Rogue Spotter Book 5) Page 13
