Labyrinth: Acropolis Series Book II (19 page)

"Stronger are you?" Kunos asks.

I am unable to answer, one hand going behind
my back to press against the cavern's craggy stone walls. The stone
soothes me, and lessens the pain. I think about the water again,
about the foreign magic I battled against to save the hybrids.
Water. Water and Stone.

"Emma," I say suddenly, quietly. "Get Gray
and move away from me. All of you."

Emma only hesitates a moment before doing as
I ordered, and I squeeze her briefly before letting her go.

"A fight then, Kunos," I say loudly, using
the version of his name he claims is for close friends.

The Demon smiles, revealing sharp, yellowed
teeth. I no longer think he looks like Santa Clause.

"A fight," he says with a nod.

I watch carefully from the corner of my eyes
as the hybrids rally and move slowly away from me. Kunos is
confident, too confident. He may have an affinity for water, and he
may be in Hell, but I have allies here too in the stone and in the
water.

I clench my jaw, my palms sweaty against the
stone behind me as I call on both allies. The stone strengthens me
and water moves back into the cavern, first a trickle that plays
with the bottom of my already soaked tennis shoes, and then a
swirling mass of ankle deep water. I can hear both Gray and Deidra
take deep, unsteady breaths, but I ignore them. The water is mine
this time. Mine alone.

Kunos steps forward, the water around his
calves. It parts for him as he moves, and he eyes it
affectionately.

"Really, Gargoyle? You attempt to use my own
weapon against me?"

I grin. "Really, Kunos?
Your
weapon?"

The Demon pauses, his eyes narrowing. I can
feel pain behind my eyes, but I draw on the water, letting it
absorb into my skin, running up my body, it's power dampening the
pain. I have the advantage. According to my training, one of Kunos
weaknesses is arrogance, over confidence. My father fought him
once. It was a bedtime story my mother told me as a child before I
even knew what I was. The Gargoyle and the Water Demon. I know how
to deter him.

The water in the cavern continues to rise,
and I pull my sweatshirt over my head before throwing it aside. The
weight of it had slowed me down earlier, cost us precious seconds,
and I won't risk it again.

"This isn't a wrestling match, Gargoyle. I
don't need to see your chest."

Kunos laughs, and I grin at his joke because
I know it disarms him. My eyes move only briefly to the hybrids. I
am controlling the water, and I reign it in, keeping it away from
them even as it reaches my waist. Kunos has transformed into a
monstrous seahorse, the water getting too high on his rotund human
form for him to stand.

"Who's better looking now?" I joke.

Kunos approaches me, circling me, his
body that of a seahorse, but his face still that of a man. It's
disconcerting. Santa Claus he is definitely
not
.

"There will be no fight, Kunos," I say.
"You've injured us enough. You've had your turn with the hybrids.
It's over."

Kunos is confused, and I'm well aware of it.
My hand reaches behind me, digs into the stone.

"I have a story for you, Demon," I say.
"Once, there was a little boy whose mother used to tell him a story
about a great gargoyle."

I pause, waiting for Kunos to interrupt, but
he doesn't and I have to fight not to smile. It's another weakness,
curiosity.

"This gargoyle loved to swim in the sea," I
continue. "He spent many hours among the waves, taking strength
from the water around him."

"One day, he stumbled on a small fishing boat
far from shore. He didn't bother the boat, just watched it. Mortals
are fascinating to gargoyles. Weak and yet blessed. We were created
to protect them after all. But then, suddenly, out of nowhere, the
boat begins to rock, the people on board screaming in terror. There
was no storm, nothing that would cause a calm sea to furrow in
rage. In confusion, the gargoyle dives and sees a large seahorse
beneath the sea, his face stretched into a wicked grin."

Kuno's face brightens, the same grin I'd
always imagined him having spreading across his face.

"I killed him of course," he brags.

My fingers dig into the stone hard enough to
draw blood, and I smile, my grin wider and more wicked than
his.

"No, Kunos. For some gargoyles are beyond
even you. This gargoyle you faced was clever. Beneath the waves,
there was an underwater cave, and the gargoyle called to the
stone."

Kunos' eyes move to my hand now, but it is
too late. The stone is mine, and it shifts beneath the seahorse, a
gaping hole opening in the floor of the cave. I hold my smile even
as the power weakens me. In Hell, I am not myself, but he will not
know this. Kunos is pulled toward the hole, and I call on the
water, using its strength to pull him under.

"The stone closed around the seahorse in the
sea," I say dramatically. "For the Demon Kunopaston is good with
water, but he knows nothing about stone."

And with that, I let the stone close around
the Demon.

"It took many years for him to break free," I
finish weakly.

I pardon the water, sending it back into
crevices and secret underground pools before I finally sink to the
ground, my strength drained.

My head still throbs.

Chapter 25

Emma

I have never considered myself a great
reader, although I love books, but as I watch Conor slide down the
cavern wall, his hand pressed against his head, I'm suddenly aware
of only two things. The gargoyle and Tolkien. My adopted mother
used to read to me in hospital waiting rooms. It gave us both
comfort. Her voice surrounds me now, the words from a Tolkien novel
sliding from her phantom lips.

"From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

My mother is a fan of fantasy and
romance, even erotic romance though she'd never admit it. I only
knew it because I'd found the steamy ones in a drawer by her bed.
But now it is the fantasy that touches me. I'm not sure which book
it comes from. The
Fellowship of the
Ring
, I believe, but the lines suit the moment. Even
as weak and tired as we are, as emotionally drained, there is hope.
Our crownless have a king now in Marcas Craig. We are here to prove
hybrids deserve their kingdom. We have lost two of our own. We
won't let them be forgotten.

I am moving before I realize it, kneeling in
front of Conor, my cool hands going against his forehead. He's
always seen the bravery in me even when I didn't. He saw something
in the other hybrids, and he fights for them despite his own
confusion. He doesn't know if he fights now on the right side, but
he sees enough in us to keep trying.

He opens his eyes, and I smile at him
wearily. My heart hurts, my sorrow a weight on my shoulders, but we
still have to get the Spear of Destiny.

"Not bad, Gargoyle," I hear Bruno say from
behind me.

Bruno lowers his hand, and I move aside.
Conor's gaze meets the hybrid's, and a look passes between them
before Conor accepts Bruno's hand. It's partly an offer of help and
partly a handshake of camaraderie.

"Here's that all for one, one for all crap
the 'king' was talking about," Lyre complains, but there is no bite
to her words. Only acceptance. Weary, even hospitable,
acceptance.

Conor is standing now, and he reaches for his
soggy sweatshirt, using his ability with water to shove the liquid
out of his clothes before pulling the shirt back over his head.

"You know, that whole dry magic thing you
have going on would be really helpful right about now," Bruno says,
and we all laugh tensely as Conor grins before calling the water
out of our clothes as well.

"We need to move," Gray points out
unsteadily, and I grimace. I'm really beginning to hate those
words. And by the matching expressions surrounding me, I'm not the
only one.

"How far do you think we are from the
center?" I ask.

I'm honestly not sure our group can handle
much more. We've met with the misleading Envy, was trapped under a
wall of stone, lost Hesther, was sweet talked by a Demon marquis,
was flung down a corridor of spiked gates, lost Ace, and then
surrounded by water. Five obstacles, two lives lost. Five
obstacles.

My head snaps up.

"One more," I say before anyone has a chance
to answer me. The hybrids all look my way.

"What?" Bruno asks.

My gaze meets his, and then moves to
Conor.

"We've been through five obstacles. What
number is most represented in Hell?"

Understanding fills Conor's eyes even as the
other hybrids inhale.

"Six," Fiona breathes.

I nod. "One more obstacle," I repeat.

"Just one more," Bruno says under his
breath.

We need to move, but no one budges. We are
too tired, too freaking tired.

"Bravery is facing the things we fear.
Bravery is not hiding. Bravery is dealing with tears, sweat and
blood when we could be at home in a dry bed under clean
sheets."

It's Conor's voice that brings us out of our
stupor, and he grins sheepishly as he motions toward the
unforgiving darkness.

"Bravery is moving forward when it's easier
to stay behind."

Bruno raises a brow. "Read that in a book
somewhere, Gargoyle?"

Conor shakes his head, his eyes bright. "No.
Surprisingly, I'm a philosopher at heart."

I can't help it, I laugh, and the rest of us
join in. All of us except Gwenyth. It makes me remember Ace, and I
sober up.

"Then I guess we move forward," I say.

We all move together. Deidra leans against
me, and I lean against Conor as we walk. Gwenyth leans against a
slow, exhausted Gray. Fiona and Lyre both lean against Bruno.

Conor peers down at me before glancing down
the line. He smirks and then sings under his breath, the sound
echoing in the tunnel.

"Lean on me when you're not strong . . ."

Deidra snorts and then giggles before picking
up the tune.

"I'll be your friend. I'll help you to
carrrrrry on . . ."

Fiona chuckles, her lilting voice almost
haunting in the cavern.

"For it won't be long till I'm gonna need
somebody to lean on."

Lyre pretends to retch.

"The three musketeers I can handle. A Demon
musical is just a little too much."

Bruno grunts to show he agrees.

"Watch it, Bruno," Conor says lightly. "Girls
like a guy who can sing."

Bruno throws Conor a look.

"I'll stick with sandstorms, thank you. Not
much running a girl can do when trapped inside by dirt."

Conor snickers. Our jokes and laughter have
an edge of desperation to them, a fight for normalcy, and we cling
to it.

Bruno slows. "I know you guys are going to
cringe when I ask this, but do any of you sense anything?"

We all slow our pace, searching. I feel
nothing. No emotions other than the fear, sorrow, and weakness
emanating from our own group.

Surprisingly, Lyre is the first one to
speak.

"Metal. I feel metal," she says.

"Metal?" I ask.

Lyre shrugs. "And war."

She senses metal and war? I reach out again,
my mind searching. No emotions . . . but then, maybe something.

"Emma?" Conor asks.

I shake my head.

"Maybe death," I say finally.

Gray's eyes narrow. "Does death have an
emotion? I mean, what do you feel that makes you think of
death?"

His voice is full of fear. It's
understandable. He's still weak. Out of all of us, he suffered the
most because of Kunos. I look forward, my gaze ahead.

"I feel hopelessness . . . decay? It's like a
gaping hole. There seems to be an emotion one moment then nothing."
I hold up two hands, indicating one palm then the other. "Emotion
then nothing."

Gwenyth looks up.

"Death," she whispers.

Gwenyth and I had both lost someone bound to
us. We know what sudden emptiness feels like.

"Metal, war, death . . ." Bruno repeats, his
eyes going red before he faces us, his expression solemn. "Don't
hold back, but stay together the best you can. Marcas Craig is
right. Unity is the hybrid advantage."

Bruno looks away a moment before facing us
once more.

"I don't want to let any of you down. I
am who I am, and I think over the past couple of months I've
learned to accept that. We have Demonic parents. So what? I think
it's time for a new beginning where we are bigger than our parents,
bigger than our births, bigger than life. For the first time, this
road has never looked so dangerous and yet so
un
-lonely. I don't feel alone. It's a vast
improvement to our lives before. It's a testament to those among us
who won't come back."

Bruno pauses and gestures at the tunnel in
front of us.

"Don't hold back."

We are all silent mainly because it's hard to
see Bruno feeling much of anything other than power hungry. He's
got more feelings than that. He's suffered as much loneliness as
the rest of us.

Fiona places a hand on Bruno's shoulder and
smiles before nodding at the tunnel. Deidra grins, her hand
slipping into mine before waving at the rest of the group.

"I'm feeling the love!" she chirps.

I laugh even as Lyre shakes her head.
"Imps!"

But then Lyre pauses and looks over at the
short dark-skinned hybrid and smiles. The grin is devoid of sarcasm
and hatred.

"I'm glad you're with us," she says.