The Centaur Queen (The Dark Queens #7)(44)

The words were in a language I did not know but were full of power, stronger even than what he’d shown me last night. I sucked in a sharp breath as my body burned for his.

I did not know if it was my love for him that made it so all-consuming, or whether Petra was simply this powerful, but I knew the Gorgon would not stand a chance against it.

“Look at the ground, Petra. By the gods, do not look at her,” I warned.

“Yes, don’t look at me, male.” A voice I’d never heard before, but that shivered with the blunt edge of rage and longing, echoed all around us.

I sucked in a breath, and Petra faltered.

“Never stop singing, my love. Never stop,” I murmured.

Her laughter echoed like millions of bats’ wings, causing me to break out in chills. “Clever, girl. What do you want?”

Petra never stopped singing, understanding the gravity of our situation. It was only his voice that stayed her hand. I would be useless in a fight right now, and I was just barely clinging to consciousness. This would either work or it wouldn’t.

“To help you,” I said haltingly.

I could make out her vague form in the shadows, see the way her hair snapped and curled around her head. A soft, sibilant hiss whispered between us. My heart raced, pumped full of adrenaline.

“Help me? How dare you think you could—”

“I have a gift for you, Gorgon, a means of escape.”

She stepped into the light, and I trembled as I finally beheld the face of the monster.

She was beautiful, dressed in a diaphanous white Grecian gown that flowed like water behind her. Her skin was as pale as ivory and flawless like smooth marble. Her eyes were a clear gray, and her rosebud lips a lovely shade of pale pink. Chestnut-colored hair lay in a tumble, snapping and writhing, not hair at all, but hundreds of snakes with black beady eyes that stared back at me.

I did not see a monster when I looked at her, but a broken woman who had no hope.

She looked at the two of us, and I shivered, hoping Petra would not look upon her beauty. To do so would instantly petrify him.

“I cannot simply escape the Fates.”

“No,” I shook my head, “you can’t unless, of course, they knew and accepted what I had planned to do.”

She frowned.

Channeling the last bit of strength I had left, I took the finger from Petra’s grasp and walked slowly toward her. I sensed Petra stir behind me, but he never stopped singing.

I handed her the finger, which she took. Unwrapping it slowly, she stared down at it in awe. “Is this—?”

“The sixth finger of the stone dwarf king. With this magic, you can tunnel through any stone. You can find your freedom again.”

She trembled, pulling it close to her chest. “I was cursed. The gods would not want me free.” Clear gray eyes looked at me with a quiet sort of desperation that broke my heart.

I shook my head. “Perhaps not, Gorgon. But what happened to you should never have happened at all.”

She swallowed hard. “Had your man not tempered my anger, I would have killed you both.”

I nodded.

“Who are you?” Thrusting out her jaw, I could almost swear I saw heat shimmering in her eyes. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You have done me a great honor today. You pass this challenge, female. Both of you are free. But more than that, I owe you a boon, so I humbly ask you to accept my gift of stone.”

Petra’s singing stuttered, and I shook my head. I did not think the Gorgon wanted to hurt others, but the burden of her pain was so deep it overwhelmed her and made it impossible for her to stop.

A single tear slipped out of the corner of her eye as she said, “Catch the tear, female.”

Even I could not touch that tear. It would turn me to stone. But I knew that somehow, just as the finger had been important to the successful completion of this trial, so too would the tear.

Suddenly Petra stood beside me, holding up an empty vial. Tossing him a grateful look, I uncorked it, and the Gorgon neared, tipping her head forward so that the lip of the vial caught on that tear.

A curl of smoke wound through the air like a serpent’s tail when it landed safely within. Her own snakes were calm, blinking and flicking out their tongues, but not to attack.

“And now we are even, female,” she said. “I will never harm you, but that is not a promise I make to your male. Fare thee well.”

Just as before when the Fates had whispered those same words to me, we were back in the garden where we’d started.

Petra opened his arms, and I sank gratefully into them, finally able to give in to the darkness.





Chapter 13


Petra

I watched her as she slept, stoking the flame before us, wanting to keep her warm. Tymanon had collapsed in human form, and she was far too fragile for my liking. The night was cool and felt pleasant, but Ty had lost so much blood.

To her hands, I’d applied globs of that magicked salve she kept in her pouch, bandaging her hands tight and praying to the gods that, come morning, she’d be hale again. Those hands were her life, her salvation. I would rather die than see her suffer.

Watching as that Minotaur had crushed her and witnessing the shock set in had scared me half to death. I’d never seen Ty go so pale or look so lost. She’d always seemed so powerful to me, bold and fearless. But I’d seen another side of her today, and it’d shaken me to my very core. Panic had eaten a hole through my gut straight to my spine as I’d furiously tried to snap her out of it.