“I want to go with her,” Cadan said.
Esha shook her head. “I can’t send two. It’s too difficult.”
“Then—”
Diana’s glare cut Cadan off. She wouldn’t object to him coming with her, but she wanted him to talk to her about it first. But it seemed it didn’t matter. She’d be going into hell alone.
***
Two hours later, the four of them stood in the chamber that held the portal. Two Mythean Guardians who’d been stationed in the chamber to guard the portal stood with them. Diana eyed Cadan suspiciously. He was shifting back and forth on his feet, clearly anxious and wanting to take control of the situation.
She wanted his help. She wasn’t stupid. With him, her odds of success were higher. But only if he didn’t try to take control and do this for her. She really believed that she was the only one who could do this. She had to believe it in order to go through with it. And she didn’t want him dying for her, especially if it wouldn’t accomplish the end goal. He’d had thousands of years being himself, living according to his code of ethics. He wouldn’t change overnight. But he was trying.
“Are you ready?” Esha asked.
Diana gripped her sword and nodded. Esha had needed to make a stop at a Mythean bar to refuel her power from other Mytheans’ souls. If this was ever going to work, it would be now, when Esha had as much power as possible.
Esha approached her and took her hand. Cadan and Warren stood to the side and Diana could almost feel Cadan’s anxiety.
“Don’t let go of my hand,” Esha said. “I’ll link our vision, so you can see what I see. Then I’ll try to project part of your soul.”
“Will I feel it when it splits?” Why hadn’t she thought to ask that before?
“No, because it’s not really tearing in half or anything, because it’s not a physical object. I’m just sending part of it in, and you shouldn’t feel it.”
Diana nodded. It sounded so simple in theory. But when Esha squeezed her hand and a cold frisson shot up her arm, she realized that it wasn’t simple at all. The frisson turned to heat. Then darkness. She shook her head, and realized that it wasn’t darkness, but shadows. She had to stop herself from stepping backward as they pushed out, writhing and clawing from a space at the edge of the chamber.
Their minds passed through it, and again they passed by the river Styx, through the fields, and into the forest. At some point, she felt Esha’s presence fade. She was alone. The sword felt almost natural in her hand, and for that she was grateful. It was an extra sharp security blanket. Her fist clenched around the hilt and she crept through the woods, certain that she was near the clearing that held Paulinus and Vivienne.
“What have we here?” The rough feminine voice cut through the silence.
Diana jumped and spun around to see one of the red demons bearing down on her with a sadistic grin on its birdlike face. Great wings flared from its back. Recognition dawned.
A harpy. Of course. This was the Roman underworld. On earth, they must hide their wings with magic to avoid attention.
She lunged at it with her sword and caught it in the arm below the fall of dark hair.
It shrieked and yanked a sword free of the sheath at its belt. “You’ll pay for that.”
The harpy swung and she parried, knocking its sword aside. They circled, trading blows, until her arm sang from the effort. Exhausted, she tripped over a root and fell on her back. The harpy leapt for her. She thrust her sword up and managed to catch it in the stomach. The sword sank grotesquely into flesh, then slid out when the harpy fell to the side, gasping.
She stumbled to her feet, but before she could rise fully, felt a slender arm wrap around her torso.
“That wasn’t very nice, was it?” The harsh voice in her ear was that of another harpy.
Clumsily, she managed to flip her sword backward and stab the thing in the stomach. It grunted and released her. She stumbled, but regained her feet and spun around to swipe her sword across its throat. It collapsed to the ground and she looked around frantically.
No more. Good.
And thank God she had Boudica’s talent with a sword.
She set off in the direction of the clearing until she reached the edge of the woods and crouched behind a bush. In front of her, about fifty yards away, the altar rose black and menacing out of the ground. A vision of herself bleeding atop it flashed into her mind and she flinched, her muscles tightening.