Page 87

The others were already waiting in the ballroom foyer. Conversations died the moment we appeared. One by one, heads turned towards us, their gazes sweeping over me with the slow, unsettling curiosity of predators scenting wounded prey.

“A locket lies in the middle of a shifting maze,” Astaroth stated dramatically. “One that contains Maraveth’s memories. Fight your way to the centre and claim the locket to win.”

Helion lunged.

Astaroth barely reacted. With a lazy flick of his hand, two guards materialised between them, their armour gleamed disturbingly like polished bone.

They seized Helion by the arms and wrenched him to a stop before he could reach Astaroth.

“You gave me your word!” Helion yelled with a manic edge to his voice.

He had lied to me. Tricked me. Hurt me. Yet he had been adamant he was trying to protect me. Was he trying to protect me from the truth that I broke the Throne? Or was there something worse than that hidden in my memories.

“I said I would not give her memories back, not that she could not find them herself,” he said, smile deepening as if the drama were exactly what he wanted.

“I would have thought a night in the Nether would have reminded you who holds your leash,” he sneered, glancing down his nose. “You are nothing but a fallen god who failed his Throne, Helion. Worthless and weak.”

To my surprise, Helion had no retort as Astaroth gestured for the bone guards to let him go.

He kept his gaze trained on the ground and his jaw clenched as he stepped back into line.

I felt him pressing against the bond, warm tendrils of sunshine asking for permission to enter my mind.

I hesitated for a moment, but when I looked up at him and saw desperation staring back at me, I opened for him.

Warmth flooded in at once, golden and invasive, slipping through the cracks in my defences like sunlight beneath a locked door. It felt like a sun-soaked meadow with a summer breeze brushing over bare skin.

I went rigid, sucking in a sharp breath as I adjusted to his presence.

He waited just beyond my thoughts, close enough to touch the places I had not given him permission to see. I kept what I had learnt to myself, locking it far away from him.

A shiver ran down my spine from the obscene intimacy of it. From the wrongness of another mind brushing against mine as if it belonged there.

Surprise flickered through the bond first, sharp and bright as if he couldn’t believe I had let him in.

I pushed through, past the warmth, past the false softness of him, and sank my voice into his mind like a blade.

I’m getting my memories back whether you want me to or not, I said into his mind, making my voice grate along the bond.

Trust me, Lyra, you don’t want them, he replied almost softly. Letting me feel how genuine he was.

What a good liar he was.

“Entertain us,” Astaroth’s voice echoed against the vast ceiling, bringing me back to my surroundings. Astaroth’s milky eyes slid to mine, and his smile sharpened. “And happy hunting.” He raised his ringed fingers and clicked them. A metallic taste spread through my mouth, the sting of his magic pressing against my skin.

Everything went black. My senses had been taken away completely. I could not hear. Feel. Taste. See. I was nothing.

Two heartbeats passed until light ripped back into focus, disorientating me. I was standing in between two large white marble walls towering over me as ash drifted down from the smoke-filled sky.

Pastel paintings lined the walls, waiting to take my shape and portray it the Hells to enjoy.

I took two steps into the maze, feeling the familiar pull in my chest that meant my magic was calling me to it.

The locket.

“Lyra,” Helion warned, and I paused, looking over my shoulder at him. His face was shadowed, ash clinging to his eyelashes. But I could see his coiled muscles beneath the surface, the stance that meant he would lunge for me at any moment.

“Please,” I whispered as he walked up behind me, his body heat pressing into me and sending a shiver through me. “I need to know who I am.”