“Yes, my queen,” Galto said, backing out of the room, his long, clawlike nails clicking against the stone-cold floor as he moved.
Alone, Atalanta looked back out the window. A storm was moving in. Dark gray clouds on the edge of the horizon waited to unleash their frigid fury. Being back in the human realm was both a blessing and a curse. Here she once more commanded her army, but she was mortal. If it weren’t for that one limitation, she’d be out hunting Gryphon herself. But even with her goddess powers, she couldn’t take the risk. However, once she had the Orb…
One corner of her lips curled as she watched the first snowflake drift to the ground. Once she had the Orb in her hands again, she’d be close to achieving her ultimate goal: seeing every single Argonaut destroyed.
Once they were wiped from the cosmos and she had the power to command the human realm, only then would she rest.
***
The air was bitter cold, but the water cut with the bone-chilling frigidity of a thousand knives stabbing into every inch of his skin.
Gryphon plunged beneath the surface, kicked hard to come back up. They’d fallen for at least fifteen seconds before hitting this ice-cold pool of water. He gasped when he reached the surface, gulped in air, opened his eyes, and tried to get his bearings.
Dooouulaaaas…
He shook the water from his ears. Not fucking now!
He turned in the water. No, not a pool. An underground river. The current was swift, already rushing him downstream. The voices of Nick’s men—of Orpheus—hollering from above were long gone, and he couldn’t see shit in the dark.
“Mae—” He sputtered water. Coughed as he tried to keep the current from sucking him back under. “Maelea!”
No cry for help met his ears. Nothing but the increasing roar of water crashing close. He swiveled in the dark, tried to squint to see ahead. Saw nothing but pitch-black darkness in every direction. “Maelea!”
Dooouulaaaas…
He ground his teeth. Worked like hell to ignore the voice. The churn of water grew in intensity. Something brushed his leg beneath the surface. He tried to swim back the way he’d come, but the current was too swift. Panic pushed in as he was forced downstream. “Maelea!”
A splash echoed to his right. Then a gasp. And a cough. He twisted in that direction, kicked hard to reach the noise. “Maelea?”
Maelea sputtered somewhere close.
His hands pushed through water, passed over flesh, tightened around muscle and bone to tug her close. “Grab on to me.”
“What’s that”—she coughed, dug her fingers into his flesh—“noise?”
He shifted toward the roar. Realized it was a waterfall. Shit. They were going over. “Don’t let go of me!”
Her scream met his ears just as they rocketed off what had to be an enormous drop-off. Water sprayed into his eyes, messed with his vision. For a second he thought he saw something glowing green beneath them, but it was so dark in here, that couldn’t be right. Air rushed up his back, but he didn’t let go of Maelea’s forearm. Not as they sailed through the frigid air, not as they hit—thank gods—another pool of water, not as they submerged beneath the surface and his breath rushed out of his lungs like air from a popped balloon.
He kicked as if Hades himself were after them, gripped her arm tighter so he didn’t lose her. And gasped when he finally came back up. Musty, damp, bone-chilling air filled his chest. Beside him, Maelea broke the surface and drew large gulps of air.
Realizing she was okay, that they’d both survived, his heart rate began to slow and he let go of her as he treaded water and tried to figure out where the hell they were.
To his surprise, the pool of water they’d dropped into was indeed glowing green, the light enough to illuminate the giant cavern around them, the underground lake they’d fallen into, even the small stream leading out at the far end, which continued like a phosphorescent trail toward freedom.
He looked up at the forty-foot waterfall they’d just come down. No other bodies sailed over the edge, which meant no one had been stupid enough to follow them. Nick and his men…and Orpheus…probably all thought he and Maelea were dead by now.
Beside him, Maelea’s teeth knocked together. He looked her way as she shivered in the cold water, her long black hair a wet mess plastered to her head, her normally pale skin even whiter in the glow of the lake.
He didn’t know what was making the water glow, but he was thankful for it. Especially since he didn’t have a flashlight. “We need to get out of this water.”
“I…” Her teeth clattered together and her body shook, but she didn’t fight him when he pulled her toward the rocky edge of the pool. “I…d-d-d-don’t…l-l-l-like you.”
“You wouldn’t be the first.”