Labyrinth: Acropolis Series Book II (6 page)

"What if the path you're asking me to take is
the wrong path?" I ask him. "I wasn't raised a hybrid. This whole
Hell and Spear of Destiny thing doesn't make a lot of sense. And
you're asking me to take it from Enepsigos. She's my birth mother.
What does she have to do with the spear?"

Marcas sighs, squeezing my shoulder briefly
before letting his hand fall.

"The Spear of Destiny is a lance once used to
pierce Jesus in the side when he was crucified. There are many
depictions of it, many legends, many false truths. But one thing
remains. It is powerful, powerful enough to protect a kingdom. The
most effective example I know to give is your history's Hitler. The
spear can be used for good or for evil. It depends on the hands
holding it."

I look over Marcas' shoulder at Conor. He is
quiet, his eyes on me, his face remarkably expressionless. He
trusts Marcas, and I let Marcas' words move through me. The spear
gives the wielder power. And from Marcas' explanation, I gather
Hitler was once a bearer. It makes me want to laugh. The irony is
too great. The hybrids are like the Jews in history. We are being
slaughtered, marked with prejudice. For years, we have been in
hiding to avoid destruction and Marcas is asking us to give up that
sense of security.

"We are the Jews,"
I repeat to myself, my gaze on the floor. I let the thought
sink in before finally looking up.

"And what part does Enepsigos play in this?"
I ask.

Marcas watches me carefully.

"Your mother is an interesting Demon, Emma.
She isn't even evil in general. She is fierce, powerful,
independent. For years, she was a slave to the Biblical King
Solomon. He came to depend on her prophesies, on her healing
abilities. Maybe it was Enepsigos' time among mortals that changed
her. Even enslaved, she was immune to the wrath most of us have
felt at Lucifer's hands. Demons do not live good lives. It is
filled with abuse. When released, I think Enepsigos refused to
return to that. She fought for control of her own kingdom for many
years. But it wasn't until Hitler's demise, mortal years, that she
won with the help of the spear. She uses it to protect her
kingdom."

I know my mouth is hanging open. It has to
be. "And you want me to take it from her? You want me to open her
kingdom up to destruction?"

Marcas' eyes stay locked on mine. "Not
exactly. Look, I realize this is not an easy choice, but if the
hybrids fail, we will either be slaughtered or forced to march with
Lucifer. With the hybrids, Lucifer would have a big enough army to
launch an attack against Heaven. His war would be fought on Earth.
The repercussions are great."

Conor steps up next to Marcas."Think of your
mother, Emma. The one who raised you. Think about what war on Earth
would mean to humans, to her."

My heart breaks. There are countless wise
quotes that wax poetic about choosing a path in life, poetry about
the road less traveled, but there is nothing that says either path
is easy. Each path requires sacrifice, each path is full of
scars.

I look down at my hands. "She'll know I'm
coming."

Marcas doesn't disagree.

"She already knows," he says. "Getting the
spear won't be an easy endeavor. Your mother is clever. She'll kill
for it if she has to, Emma."

His comment surprises me.

"If she knows, how do you expect me to get
it?"

"You're her daughter," Marcas points out.
"She's always known you would march against her."

Memories bombard me.
There is going to be an uprising, Emma. You will
lead it.
Enepsigos' words are eerie now, prophetic. I
look back up at Marcas.

"She helped us get away from the
Acropolis."

Marcas doesn't falter. His stance remains
strong, sure. I can see the draw he must have for Dayton. He
doesn't have a lot of charm, but his confidence makes up for
it.

"In the end, your mother wants you to
succeed, but the spear is important to her, to the Demons who
follow her."

I release the table before drawing in a deep
breath. "Then why not form an alliance with her instead?"

"I've tried," Marcas answers. "But her
followers do not trust hybrids. We're wild cards, Emma. Our blood
is mixed with mortal blood. We're considered weak, incompetent. To
maintain her leadership, she must listen to her people. As a ruler,
I admire that. But, despite her position, she has developed a loop
hole."

"A loop hole?"

Even I hear the doubt in my voice.

"Yes," Marcas answers. "A deadly one. She has
hidden the spear within a labyrinth."

I'm confused. "A labyrinth? Like a maze?"

I gaze boldly into Marcas' eyes, and I see
his lips twitch. I'm tall for a girl. Most of the time, I hate it,
but right now it works for me. I'm not quite eye level with either
man, but I'm close enough.

"Not a maze. Religiously, culturally,
labyrinths have often been used for meditation or to represent a
spiritual journey. There are no dead ends, no wrong paths in a
labyrinth. There is only
one
path that leads to
one
purpose. Enlightenment. But there is nothing enlightening
about Enepsigos' labyrinth. It is a death trap. The journey to the
center will be fraught with terror."

I let this sink in.

"And you think the hybrids can survive it?" I
ask.

Marcas raises a brow. "I'm counting on
it."

"And what happens if we succeed?"

Marcas looks from Conor to me. "Then I go
into negotiations with Enepsigos. Her people expect a show. The
labyrinth is her gift to them. If you succeed, they cannot deny our
strength."

What Marcas is trying to tell me finally
sinks in.

"It's a tool to prove your kingdom is an
acceptable ally. Our success is the first step to negotiation.
They'll be forced to ally with us if we have the spear," I say
quietly. It's not a bad ploy.

Marcas nods, reaching out once more to place
his hand on my shoulder, his eyes boring into mine.

"And I need your help to do it."

Chapter 6

Conor

"She's stronger than she looks," Marcas says,
his eyes on Emma.

We've moved from the dining room into a
downstairs den. Like the dining area, the colors are dark and
vibrant. Deep wine-colored sofas with opulent throw rugs in rich
earth tones cover dark, shining brick floors. The ceiling is
vaulted, the walls painted the same wine color as the sofas with
low recessed lights shining from cast iron sconces. But it's the
ceiling-to-floor picture window that catches the eye. Covering one
wall, it looks out onto the vineyards just beyond the property's
edge. They too belong to Alessandro.

Emma is kneeling near the window, her hands
planted against Ace's head. The large drex is still keening, his
anxiety calming as Emma speaks to him softly. Deidra is behind her.
The imp was the only hybrid brave enough to lead Ace out of the
dining room when the group was ordered to leave. She, like Emma, is
stronger than she looks.

Alessandro stands a few feet away from them,
his gaze distant. Looking at him, I can see his resemblance to
Emma, and I am reminded of his revelation two months earlier.
Marcas' need to ally himself with Enepsigos' kingdom will be hard
on more than just Emma.

"I trust you, Craig. But she isn't ready for
the labyrinth," I say.

Emma is more than just strong, she's
resilient, but her power is like nothing I have ever felt
before.

Marcas' eyes narrow."Are you questioning my
instincts, Gargoyle?"

I look at him, my gaze hard."No, she's strong
enough. Not a single one of us can argue with you there, but her
control is weak."

"I wouldn't say that necessarily," Will
interrupts.

I throw him a "butt out" look, but he either
doesn't see it or chooses to ignore it. He shrugs, his smile bright
where he leans next to Dayton and Luther. Marion and Grace have
gone to their rooms and the rest of the hybrids have returned to
their cottage. As a show of trust, the hybrids have been allowed to
reside with no guard for the past month.

"You saw her at the Acropolis, Con. She's the
most aggravatingly practical person I have ever met. You teach her
something, she learns it. She doesn't even know how to have a
normal conversation. All she does is ask questions. Ask, learn.
Ask, learn. She'll be ready," Will says.

I grunt. "She
can
have a normal conversation."

I'm being defensive, and I know it.

"With
you
," Will argues.

"Blurred lines and all that," Luther mutters.
I fight hard not to punch him.

"If Emma decides to do this and the hybrids
agree, I want to go with them," I insist, my eyes averted so I
won't see Luther's smug expression. Marcas is watching me.

"Out of all of them, you would be the most
defenseless, Reinhardt. You'll be in Demon territory."

"I'm a gargoyle Guardian . . . "

Marcas doesn't let me finish.

"You're a Guardian trained to defend
humans against evil on
Earth
.
Even with your powers, you will be out of your element in
Hell."

I am facing off with Marcas now, my face
inches from his. "Try me, Craig. I might surprise you."

A hand lands gently on my shoulder. I know
who it is, and I brush it off. I don't need Dayton to defend
me.

"I sacrificed a lot to bring these hybrids to
safety," I say hoarsely. "I won't walk away from this now. What I
lack in power compared to them, I make up for in experience."

Marcas closes his eyes briefly, and I
know he's drawing off his bond with Dayton. She calms him. It's an
interesting thing to watch, and I find myself wondering what it
must be like to be
that
bound
to a person, that linked. I've always found comfort in females, but
I've never depended on one for stability.

"You have no idea what you'll be facing,"
Marcas says, his tone final.

"Con," Dayton adds gently. "You really need
to think about this."

I spin on her, my face looking down into
hers.

"I didn't see you giving it much thought when
you disappeared with Marcas."

Dayton's lips thin."No, but I also didn't
have much of a choice. We are bound by blood."

My eyes narrow."Maybe it started out that
way, Day. But eventually you would have gone on your own. Not
everyone needs a blood bond."

I can see the anger my words stir up in
Dayton's eyes, but I don't take them back. I stare unblinking,
watching as her anger slowly fades only to be replaced by
understanding. I'm not sure what it is she thinks she understands,
but it makes her smile.

"Let him go," she says, her eyes still on
mine.

"Sure, let him go, Brother. If nothing else,
it will be a good show," Luther agrees.

Luther is an asshole, but it's hard to
dislike him. He knows what he is, and he's okay with it. Luther has
no desire to be good. What he does, he does to make his life
easier. If fighting with the hybrids means he has a home in Hell
without the political intrigue in Lucifer's kingdom, then he will
fight.

"You'd be willing to die for Demons?" Will
asks.

I look at my cousin and see the fear in his
eyes. We are both only children, no siblings. Because of this, we
are more like brothers than first cousins.

"Atonement is a bitch," I say, my eyes on
his, our conversation in the tree still fresh between us. "We were
willing to kill for them," I point out.

"Damn you, Conor," Will grumbles, and I know
I've won.

"We meet on the training field first thing in
the morning," Marcas says, his acquiescence obvious.

There is little training to be done. The
hybrids have had two months to learn more about their powers. This
meeting, despite its location, will be nothing more than a
debriefing. It is yet another reason I refuse to be left behind.
Before leaving to help rescue Dayton, Alessandro entrusted me with
the hybrids. Any training they lack is my fault.

Luther stretches. "Great. Now that that's
decided, I'm off to find food."

"Of the
cooked
variety, Luther," Dayton says
firmly.

Luther smiles, his teeth pointed as he pushes
away from the wall and backs toward the door.

"Of course. What else?"

Dayton sighs as he exits the room. "At this
point, as long as his donor is willing, I'm happy."

No one argues with her there. Will shakes his
head at me before following in Luther's wake, stopping just short
of the door to get Deidra's attention. The imp comes to him
happily, her eyes bright, her adoration more than apparent. She
stops only long enough to glance back at Emma who waves her on.

"Sleep well, Con," Dayton says, patting my
arm as Marcas holds his hand out. She takes it, peering briefly
over her shoulder as they too leave the room.

Only Alessandro and Emma remain, and I watch
as he smiles, sharing a joke that makes her laugh. I can't help but
wonder what she would think if she knew who Alessandro really is.
The drex is getting antsy, and Emma motions toward the window.
Alessandro nods, standing back so she can move past him with
Ace.

The late afternoon light coming in through
the window catches Emma's dark brown hair, bringing out red
highlights in places I've never noticed them before. She is a
beautiful girl, Emma. Subtly beautiful, but there is something
about subtle beauty I'm just now beginning to learn. There is
nothing subtle about it. Nothing plain. No, it's downright
disquieting.