She glanced at the ground, desperately hoping to see her bow but knowing it was likely as futile as hoping for an unlocked door to the cupboard. Nothing. Her hands curled into fists on the stone floor, and she tried to slow the panic that threatened to suck her under. Even her bow wouldn’t help her get out of here.

With an ache in her bones that felt wholly unnatural, Ana climbed to her feet and went to the door. Tried the knob.

Fuck. Of course it was locked. She gripped it hard in both hands and pulled, straining and cursing when it didn’t budge. Why couldn’t she open it? She should be at least strong enough to break down a door.

But she wasn’t. And without her strength or her bow or godly magic, all she had was her mind. So figure out if you can get past this door. Carefully, she ran her hands over the wood and metal fixtures, down to the base of the door to sneak her fingers under and measure its thickness.

Her throat and eyes burned when she realized it was a heavy wooden door with sturdy metal hinges and a lock. The old kind, built to really keep people out instead of just marking space with a piece of hollow plywood that could be broken through.

So Druantia really wanted to keep her locked up. But why? She’d helped Ana and Cam before. Given Cam his protection charm and the demigod potion. But there was no way around the fact that Druantia was clearly playing toward an endgame that Ana didn’t understand. There was more at stake here than just her life or Cam’s, at least for Druantia.

Options raced through Ana’s mind as she explored the dark cupboard. It took her only minutes to feel around on every surface and determine that it was basically empty with the exception of some canned goods and books. Nothing to help her.

She sank down against the wall and dropped her head back. Had Druantia locked her up as bait to draw Cam back here? Or would she try to ransom her back to the gods?

Ana groaned and rubbed her throbbing temple. The cold, stale air in the cupboard wasn’t helping. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift on waves of horrible thoughts and plans and futile attempts at escape. There was a chance she drifted off at one point, but after what felt like hours, she realized that Druantia probably wasn’t coming to let her out.

And even if she did, it wouldn’t be good. Without her bow, she’d have a hard time defending herself if Druantia appeared. Ana looked at her wounds again, her gut sinking when she noticed that they were still as open and angry as before. She wasn’t healing. Not like she should be if she were a demigod. Had the potion not worked?

It hit her then, like a piano from the sky in an old cartoon. Only this wasn’t funny. Whatever Druantia had given them had turned Ana mortal.

That’s why she’d been feeling so cold and tired and slow and hungry and all the other things that mortals felt that gods and demigods did not. It was all so twisted, and Druantia’s motivations so confusing, that Ana couldn’t wrap her head around it.

Wow, she’d really fucked this up. Cam was in Otherworld, most likely being tortured, and she was here, a puny mortal locked in a cupboard. Things had really come full circle. They’d started out with he a god and she a mortal, and now they were back to it. Only in arguably a much worse situation.

But the fact remained: She was mortal. If Druantia had just given them colored water for the potion, Ana would have woken in Otherworld and realized they’d been scammed. Instead, she’d woken up mortal.

Which meant that there was a way for her to get to Otherworld.

Death.

She rubbed the scars on her wrists. There were risks to the plan, no doubt. She could end up in Otherworld like all the other mortals. An unfeeling automaton. If that happened, would she retain the desire to save Cam?

But there was no guarantee that she would end up like other mortals. She was mortal, but she had knowledge of the reality of the world, Mytheans and afterworlds, gods and monsters. Having that knowledge was halfway to being Mythean, anyway.

No, the worst of it was that if she failed, she might never return to earth. Not even for the rest of her miserly mortal years. But there was no question.

Ana heaved herself to her feet, slowed by the weakness of her mortal body. She searched the room again, patting down every surface for something sharp. After a few minutes, though, nothing. Still just a few old canned vegetables and a couple of cookbooks.

The light from the corner window caught her eye. Far too small for an escape effort, but perfect for her purposes. She grabbed the heaviest can and climbed onto the counter until she could reach the window.

The view through the grime revealed an empty alley, as she’d expected it would in this type of old building. No one to hear her scream, and what would it matter? She couldn’t drag a mortal into this. She’d committed to her plan and she’d see it through.

She fumbled with her jacket until it was wrapped around her hand and the can. With all her strength, she punched her fist through the glass. Searing pain sang up her arm, but the glass shattered.

Gasping, she set the can on the counter and grabbed the biggest piece of glass she could find. It was still small, given that it was such a tiny window, but it would do.

With the glass pinched between her fingers, she climbed down from the counter and knelt on the floor in a position not dissimilar to how she’d sat two thousand years ago at the feet of the gods.

How appropriate. She’d done this once before, too young and stupid to extricate herself from the mess she’d gotten herself into. Only that time, she’d been heading to Otherworld to kill Cam. Now, it was just the opposite.

She sucked in a deep breath, held it in her lungs, then raked the glass down her wrist, pushing deep and hard and gasping at the pain that sliced through her. Coming full circle hurt. She fumbled to do the same to her other wrist, and though the cut wasn’t as deep, the blood poured onto the floor.

The glass clattered to the stone and she sat, her head bowed, and watched her warm blood seep onto her thighs. So similar to the p

ast, yet not.

As if it had been fated all along.

Tags: Linsey Hall The Mythean Arcana Paranormal
Source: readsnovelonline.net