The Magic Queen (19 page)

“What the hell?” A sharp burst of sound snared Baba’s attention, twirling her around.

Standing on the staircase beside her stood Rayale, also known as the Pied Piper. Noticeably absent from her side was her mate. The Pied Piper was a beautiful woman with skin the color of mahogany and long red dreads that hung clear past her hips. Her sharply slanted almond-colored eyes stared intelligently back at Baba, She kept the dreaded flute gripped tight in her left hand as she gently
tapped, tapped, tapped
it against her leather-clad thigh.

“What is this place?” Rayale asked, as though Baba had a clue herself.

Her chin was lifted high, and Baba sensed that this woman didn’t trust easily and only waited for her to perjure herself in some way. But she had nothing to lose by being honest here.

She shrugged. “I have no bloody idea. Why didn’t you tell your mate you loved him?”

Fine black brows rose. “Why didn’t you?” Rayale snapped back.

And Baba grinned, liking the Piper’s mettle. Still, she would not hesitate in doing whatever she needed to do to get Freyr back.

“Touché.” She grinned.

A flash of golden brilliance caused both woman to glance over. Floating before them stood Themis in her robes of flowing white, Calypso in a gown woven from the depths of the ocean, and Aphrodite smiling happily as she rocked a sleeping Phlegm back and forth.

Phlegm’s shock of dark black hair stuck up all over the place, as though he’d been recently electrocuted. He looked chubbier than Baba remembered and was pleased to note that the sleeping babe looked peaceful as he snored softly and sucked on his thumb. The goddesses hadn’t needed to watch him, but they had, and it seemed they’d done a damn fine job of it.

It didn’t seem possible that her heart should swell so at the sight of a snot-colored child not of her blood, but it did.

“Ugly kid,” Rayale murmured.

But it was loud enough for Baba to hear. Hissing, she glared daggers at the woman who had no idea of the enemy she’d just made. No one talked badly about her child. No one.

“Women, the final game is at hand.” Themis, who up until now had remained in the background of these games, spoke with the deep voice of an oracle. “You both find yourselves here because you failed to comply with the terms of the game.”

Baba glanced at Rayale, who was looking right back at her as she fingered the deadly silver flute. Curling her lips, she gave the Piper the flying bird.

Those dark eyes thinned to dangerous slits, Rayale’s jaw set. Baba had just made an enemy. As if that was anything new. She smirked.

“There are no tricks here. But—” Themis said the word loudly enough that both women were forced to break their stare down of death and focus— “once I made them incapable of killing any of you, we had to craft an appropriate ending. As you both know, we told you that you would not want to be the last one standing. And there was a reason.” Taking a deep breath, Themis looked as if she wanted to be anywhere else but here getting ready to say what she was about to say. “The rules of this game were simple. Five winners and one loser. The last one inside this maze will lose and be forcibly separated from their mate for an indeterminate period of time, cursed to travel this realm day and night. No matter how long you search, or where you search, you will not find him, and he will not find you.”

Baba’s heart clenched. She’d forgotten all about the fact that there would be punishment for the one who failed to say the words to her mate before the month was up. She’d not even given the matter another thought. It’d been so inconsequential to her. It’d meant nothing because she’d had no intention of falling in love, no intention of giving her dark, broken, ugly heart to another. So she hadn’t cared what would happen so long as she wouldn’t die.

But Freyr had been a wonderful accident. And the thought of being parted from him now for however long was a fate she could not bear. Baba saw that same light of truth flicker through the Piper’s eyes. A mask of steely determination settled over her features.

“To be parted from ones mate...” Calypso shuddered, staring at both woman with a look of extreme sadness in her eyes. “That is a fate I would not wish upon my worst enemy.”

“So why did you set such horrible terms!” Rayale spat, and once again, Baba found herself admiring the woman against her will. The Pied Piper had a spine built of steel.

Aphrodite, who still rocked Phlegm, looked at them both. “You both had the same chance as anyone else to not be forced to suffer this fate. But of the six of you, I’m not surprised you two are the ones left behind. You’re the most stubborn, pigheaded, and vexing of the lot.”

Gods and their petty games... Baba had always had a disdain for the way gods handled life in general, the way they played and toyed with the hearts and emotions of others, all for a bit of mindless fun and entertainment.

Themis with her milky white eyes stared unerringly at Baba’s face and nodded slowly, as though silently agreeing.

“Whatever you may feel or think, the time has come to end this,” Themis said softly. “If you look down at your feet, you’ll find a golden string.”

Baba glanced down, shocked to see a string where none had been before. Bending over, she plucked it up and sighed as a rush of magick rocketed through her. Tears gathered in her eyes, and a tremulous smile overtook her features as she felt Freyr’s life force swim through that delicate piece of string. Flicking a glance to Rayale, she noted that the Piper also smiled.

“Those strings” —Themis pointed— “are their lifelines. Follow them, and you shall find your mates.”

“How do we leave this maze?” Baba asked. “Do we just tell them we love them?”

Themis nodded. “Yes. A declaration of true love will whisk you from here and immediately back to your world.”

“With our mate in tow?” Baba had to clarify, not trusting these women as far as she could throw them.

Calypso nodded. “Of course with your lover in tow. Now go. Fight well. Fight hard. And pray that you’ll win.”

All three goddesses vanished, leaving only Baba and Rayale. Baba put her plan into action, un-stoppering a vial of silence and dousing herself in it. By the time the Pied Piper brought the flute to her lips and blew, it was already too late.

Baba was deaf. The Pied Piper could not enchant anyone so long as they couldn’t hear the music. Stomping her feet, the Piper shoved her flute into her pocket and ran, following her string.

It was unnerving not to hear, to be unable to discern if anyone or anything was going to come upon her unawares, but Baba had no choice. Clinging to Freyr’s lifeline, she took the stairs two at a time, running as fast as her feet could carry her through the maze of infinite stairways.

Up.

Down.

Sideways.

Upside down.

Around and around and around she went, growing dizzy, and completely lost. Rayale was no longer even in her line of sight. They’d parted ways minutes, hours, days ago... She no longer even knew. Time had ceased to mean anything.

All Baba could do was force herself to put one foot in front of the other and move. She didn’t know if she was backtracking or going in the right direction. There was no rhyme or reason to the sameness of this place. The scenery never shifted or changed, apart from the fact that she wasn’t always walking upright.

Praying to the gods that the three goddesses hadn’t tricked them both, Baba forced herself to move. Her thighs ached from climbing. The fear that Rayale had already found her mate and Baba was now trapped in this hellish labyrinth for an eternity sank greasy, slimy claws deep into her heart.

It was that fear that drove her and made her move even when her body screamed at her to stop and take a rest. Sweat dripped off her brow and ran in rivulets down her spine. Her hair clung to her forehead, and still Baba ran.

There was no shifting of shadows, no waning and waxing of light, nothing by which to measure time. The deep and growing ache continued to fill her limbs. Her feet began to feel like blocks of cement. The only thing keeping her sane was the golden string of Freyr’s lifeline pulsing warmly against her fingers, telling her no matter where she was now, he was close.

He was still here...

She gasped as the endless dimension of stairs vanished. Baba tripped through a door that hadn’t been there before, landing hard on her knees and hands, scraping them raw on the uneven concrete surface beneath her. A second later, the door swung open again. On the opposite side of the red room, Rayale fell in. She looked as exhausted as Baba felt. Her breathing was hard, and her face looked drained of color.

A jolt of adrenaline pulsed through Baba. If Rayale had only just arrived, that meant she still had a chance. Scrabbling to her feet, ripping off a few fingernails in the process, Baba ran down the long, narrow hall.

The dimensions of the place were bizarre and unusual. It was like trying to run through a box only to find a door standing in her way. She’d open that box and enter the same room, except this time it was smaller and smaller and smaller. Finally, she was forced to crawl on her bloody hands and knees.

What made it worse was that Baba still could hear nothing, not the sawing of her breaths, or worse, the sawing of Rayale’s. How close was she now? Where was she?

But she couldn’t afford to woolgather long. All Baba could do was keep her head down and follow Freyr’s string. Moving through the next room almost made Baba break out in tears. There was hardly enough room to wiggle through. Good thing she was so slender or she’d never have been able to worm down the long tunnel that felt like it led absolutely nowhere.

Maybe this was hell. Maybe this was nothing but a cruel, hopeless, torturous game, and she and the Piper would soon discover that all of this had been for naught. Panic eviscerated her insides. The spirit magick she kept locked deep inside of her trembled as the fear consumed her.

Closing her eyes, she moved, prayed,, and begged to any and all that this was no joke. The only thing keeping her halfway sane was the touch of Freyr’s thread upon her skin.

And then...

She burst through the tunnel into a cavernous chamber full of a ghostly white glow. Gasping, she lay on her side staring unblinkingly up, and there he was. The golden thread rose up into the air, toward an iron cage swinging in a shadow-thickened room. Beside it was another cage.

“Freyr, I love you!” She screamed, wanting to end this now. Even if her words were unintelligible because she could not hear herself to say them properly, the sentiment was still there. But nothing happened.

Frowning, she shook her head, looking around, wondering what in the hell she’d done wrong, only to see Rayale shoot through her own tunnel on the opposite side of the cavernous chamber. Swallowing the pain and exhaustion, Baba forced herself to stand by sheer force of will.

Staring up at the cage, she felt her chin wobble as the tears she rarely cried spilled down her cheeks. Freyr dangled at least a hundred feet above her.

How was she supposed to get him down?

She’d not prepared magick for something like this. She might have begun to scream, rant, and rage if Rayale hadn’t stood up. The moment she did, the cages began to lower. Rayale looked at Baba. This was it, and they both knew it.

Cupping her mouth, Rayale screamed something. Following the movements of her lips, Baba could only assume it to be a declaration of love. She cringed, shaking her head in denial. This could not end like this. Baba did love Freyr with all her mind, heart, and soul. If the magick in this place decided Rayale loved her man more, Baba was going to lose her freaking mind.

But just like Freyr’s cage hadn’t opened, neither did Rayale’s mate’s. The relief was only temporary. The moment the bodies inside the cages came into her line of sight, Baba knew why neither of them had been able to end this nonsense by proclaiming their love.

A wavering mirage of magick encased both men’s ears like an amber orange flicker of flame. Baba knew that they—like her—had been encased in silence. How could you tell someone you loved him if he couldn’t hear you?

Freyr clutched at the iron bars, staring at her. Baba saw it: the love burning in his eyes. He pressed a fist to his chest, telling her without words that he loved her. And she smiled, answering her own question.

Love didn’t need to always be said. Sometimes love just needed to be felt.

Lifting her hand to press her own fist to her chest, she was about to do the same when a flash of movement caught her eye. Rayale had something gripped tight in her hand and shook her head slowly. Beside her stood a deformed little imp of a demon with a gleeful, wicked smirk curving his wormy lips.

Baba’s stomach sank to the region of her knees, and her eyes widened as she watched Peabrain move his hand, forcing Rayale to move hers. Dark magick swirled tight in the confines of the chamber, causing the fine hairs on the nape of Baba’s neck to rise.

“Don’t. Make. Me. Do. This!” Rayale screamed. And though Baba couldn’t hear it, she saw the words as clearly as if they’d been written.

It all happened so fast that Baba stood there like an idiot, watching the inception, the very moment her life would change forever.

Peabrain opened his hand, and an object sailed from Rayale’s hand to his. A bright crimson jewel of flaming fire sailed through the air, aimed at Freyr’s heart. Baba knew with a certainty that chilled her soul that this was a spell that Freyr couldn’t walk away from.

She didn’t think. She simply reacted and did two things. She un-stoppered a vial full of the Gorgon’s tears. The moment it hit the wolf, he turned into a block of cold, unfeeling marble. And then Baba jumped. The spell, full of Freyr’s blood that Fiera had stolen from him so many fights ago, hit her square in the chest with the impact of a tsunami.

The violence of it was such that it cancelled out her spell of silence. She was knocked to the ground. Her head thudded off the concrete, but she barely felt it. She did feel the thick ooze of blood running off her body everywhere.

Freyr yelled something. She didn’t know what. He was madness personified. His cage had opened. So did the other one. Freyr was wild as he tore at his bindings, trying to reach her. But Baba knew there was nothing he could do for her now.