Age of Myth (The Legends of the First Empire #1)

“Can you show me how to find that waterfall?”

“The one with the Dherg rol hidden beneath it,” Malcolm added.

Suri nodded. Then glanced back at Maeve, still with her baffled expression.

“Can you do it in the dark? Can you do it now?” Raithe asked.

Suri glanced back at Maeve once more, then stood up. “Not a good idea to go there now.”

“Why?” Malcolm asked.

“Grin will probably go there.”

“The bear?” Raithe said so loudly that the Fhrey looked over. “Why would Grin go there?”

“She likes caves to hide in when she’s scared or hurt. We’ve taken hers, so she’ll go there. I’ve seen her do it before.”

“Scared? Hurt? Suri, did you do something to Grin?” Malcolm asked.

She nodded. “She was going to hurt Minna; I had to do something. That waterfall and pool is the nearest source of water, and she’ll want to soothe the burns. If she lives, she’s going to be in a really bad mood. Best to stay away.”

In his head, Raithe heard laughter. The laughter of the gods. The sound made his skin crawl. He had chosen poorly and put Persephone right in the path of the bear, which, for reasons only Suri knew, was going to be in an enraged state. What made the situation so ironic was that the gods had known all along what Raithe had only just realized—how much he cared for Persephone. She might not be able to love him, but oddly enough, that didn’t matter. Some things didn’t make sense, some things were merely the whim of gods—gods who had a recent and irresistible infatuation with him. In his mind, a great brown bear’s image flashed, rearing over Persephone, its massive claws spread and its jaws open wide.

“Persephone is there,” Raithe shouted. “You need to take us, now!”

“We’ll all go,” Nyphron said, surprising Raithe. “Medak, Vorath, and Eres, pack up the old Rhune, and we’ll meet you at the forest’s edge when we get back. Everyone else…” He looked at Suri. “Follow the girl.”

Suri glanced one last time at Maeve and then, together with Minna, trotted toward the cave exit.

As they headed out, Raithe heard Sebek speaking to Nyphron in Fhrey. “Did he say what I think he said?”

Nyphron nodded. “They’ve found a Dherg rol.”

—

Persephone smelled the harsh odor of burnt hair as Konniger stepped on her hand in his frantic retreat. She couldn’t help crying out in pain.

Konniger didn’t notice. His priorities had changed. Finding Persephone no longer topped his list. Even when she pushed his foot away, he didn’t seem to care.

Persephone lost her fear and got to her feet, shoving Konniger back.

Another roar sounded. The sound amplified by the stone walls was heart-stopping. The bear couldn’t be more than one or two arm lengths away, but Persephone couldn’t see anything in the darkness. She felt Konniger grabbing at her blindly with both hands.

He doesn’t have his spear.

The chieftain grabbed hold of Persephone and tried pulling her around in front of him, but the crevice was too narrow. That far back, it was just a few feet wide, and she was determined to keep Konniger between her and the bear. She wrenched free of his grip and beat him with her fists and knees. In the blackness, she connected with some part of his face, something hard and bony. She heard a squish, his mouth or maybe his nose.

Konniger groaned in pain, and Persephone kept swinging, swinging in the dark. Then she pushed out with both hands and managed to raise one foot and kick. Konniger was hit hard. He staggered backward, stumbling away. Then he screamed. At the same time, she heard what sounded like the cracking of branches.

Persephone felt the movement of air and a wetness spray her face—a cool wave followed by a hot, moist puff. Konniger continued to scream, his voice rising higher in pitch and intensity with each crack and snap.

Persephone’s hands were back on the wall where the door was supposed to be. She ran her fingers across the surface, clawing in desperation.

“Where are you!” she screamed aloud at the stone.

You have to feel around to find it, and it’s too high for the pack to reach.

She stretched up, sliding her palms left and right, manically waving both arms. The stone was smooth, slick, and moist. Blood. It’s splattered with blood.

“Help!” Konniger cried, not sounding at all like himself, not even sounding human. The high-pitched screech was something a small animal might make and was accompanied by a deep growl that she felt as much as heard.

Persephone’s hand crossed a bump she’d missed before, and she slammed her fist against it, more in a physical expression of panic than any hope of success. She was rewarded with the green light’s glow, a sliver that widened with the low grind of stone on stone. She fell into the rol, hitting her knees on the hard floor. The pain streaked up her body, making her cry out again. She sucked in a harsh breath, her eyes watering.

Behind her, the bear continued killing Konniger.

No, not killing, not anymore. She heard another snap but no cry, no screech. Konniger was dead. The bear was ripping what was left of him apart.

I’m next, she thought.

Gritting her teeth and opening her eyes, Persephone pushed off the floor. She was back in the little room with the glowing green stone, square columns, and ribbed archways.

I have to close the door!

Built by the diminutive Dherg, the doorway wasn’t large; she had no trouble reaching the diamond at the top of the threshold. She pressed the stone plate. It moved easily enough, and the door obediently began to close, the stone slab sliding left to right with a steady grind.

Hadn’t it slammed shut before? Watching the massive stone scrape its way shut, Persephone was certain it had closed faster the last time. Close, damn you, close!

Illuminated by the eerie green glow spilling out of the doorway, a vision of horror emerged. The bear had the better part of Konniger in its jaws and was shaking him, spraying his blood across the walls of the crevice. The animal’s fur looked strange, not like fur at all but rather charred skin. It wasn’t a bear. It couldn’t be. She finally saw its true form. Suri and Konniger had been right. The Brown was a demon.

The bear’s shining eyes saw her, and with remarkable speed the beast lunged. The door was almost shut, but the bear shoved its head through the opening and caught the stone with a paw. Whatever force was driving the stone stopped.

The bear roared again as it struggled to claw its way in, back legs scratching, struggling to catch on the opening, trying to pry it wider. Persephone had no idea what force caused the door to open and close along its track, but she prayed it had the power to crush the bear, to kill it.

Whether the bear wanted in or out no longer mattered. The stone was around its throat, and the beast was caught. It pressed forward and jerked back in frustration. With one paw still hooked, its claws gripped the edge of the door. Four dark claws as long and thick as fingers dripped blood—pieces of flesh trapped under each. The bear roared in anger and with an effort pushed its paw against the door.

Persephone watched in horror as the stone slab inched back. With another grunt, the bear pushed again. The stone gave another inch, the gap growing wider. Soon the bear would be able to catch the edge of the door with its back claws and heave it wide.