Page 18 of My Tattered Bonds


  around us but we didn’t so much as singe a hair. As the Phoenix dropped gracefully to the ground on the other side, it bowed low once more to allow us to dismount.

  Before I could even say anything, it was gone again. It returned quickly with Ares and Aphrodite on its back and then made several more trips for the Amazons. After everyone had joined us, the bird screamed into the night and took off. It had disappeared into the darkness before I could even blink.

  “Well, that’s that, then,” Aphrodite murmured as she moved to my side. “That bird has come in handy more than once.”

  I nodded in agreement. “It certainly has. I just wish that I knew how I summon it. It always just seems to appear when it is needed.”

  She stared thoughtfully into the night sky. “I think you are connected to it. And perhaps that is the true nature of your birthmark. Perhaps it senses when you need it and it comes.”

  “Perhaps,” I chewed my lip. “But that’s neither here nor there now.”

  I glanced around us. This side of the river didn’t look much different from the other side. But the entrance to Tartara loomed ahead of us. I could sense it more than I could actually see it. A bone-numbing cold emanated from that area and I shirked away as I stared into the dark.

  It looked like an enormous cave with massive boulders on each side. I could hear wails coming from within and it sent chills up my spine. Near the entrance, there was a huge gray boulder to the left. The feeling of foreboding was almost overwhelming as I examined our situation. The heat from the river Phlegethon warmed my back and calves as I stood silent and still.

  And then the breeze came from the south, rustling the hair on my shoulders and bringing with it a horrible, acrid odor…one I had certainly smelled before.

  “Dragon,” Cadmus said quietly.

  We all peered closer into the night and found that the giant ‘boulder’ in front of the entrance was actually an enormous reptile. It appeared to be sleeping, but it was most certainly a dragon.

  Its gray scales glistened in the light of the river and his massive tail, curled around its side, had sharp spikes lining it all the way to the tip. Large black claws curved into the ground, scratching every so often even in its sleep.

  “I’m so sick of dragons,” I muttered. “Seriously, just once, could we do something without encountering one?”

  “It doesn’t look that way,” Cadmus said, turning to me with a confident grin. “But you’re in luck. I’m a dragon specialist.”

  He held his hand out for the Helm of Darkness.

  “Aphrodite, may I?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she replied quickly, snatching it off and handing it to him. “Just be careful.”

  He rolled his eyes and gestured toward the dragon’s back leg. “This one is chained. It will be child’s play. He is used to keeping people in, not keeping people out. He won’t be expecting me.”

  “And why would he?” I muttered. “Normal people aren’t clamoring to get into the bowels of hell.”

  With one last cocky grin, Cadmus pulled the helmet onto his head and he was gone. I could no longer see him.

  We all held our breath as we watched the dragon and we knew the exact moment when he heard Cadmus approach. He lifted his massive head and stared into the night, his breath exhaling from his nose like steam. He looked one way, then the other and then forward in puzzlement. It was almost comical.

  And then he lurched to his feet, throwing his head back with a scream. Blood dripped from his neck in thick, black streams. Cadmus had made contact.

  The enormous reptile whirled around, screeching loudly as it searched for its attacker. But of course it couldn’t see anything. Cadmus was invisible.

  It spun around again, its tail whirling like a whip. It was so heavy that every time it moved, the ground shook around us. It reared up on its hind legs, the heavy chain that confined it rattling loudly before it crashed back to the ground, its eyes rolling wildly.

  It was the strangest thing. We could not see Cadmus, we could only see evidence of the unseen battle in the wounds that were appearing on the dragon. A long, thin line of blood appeared on its side. Another wound.

  Then it screamed once more, throwing its head this way and that, another gaping hole evident in the side of its neck. Black blood gushed and its giant head dropped to the ground, its massive sides heaving as it attempted to draw in air.

  Its attempts were short-lived. It wasn’t long before its chest shuddered to a stop and it stopped breathing.

  And I started again. Inhaling deeply, I searched the night for my husband. I didn’t see him and I fought panic. Where was he?

  I scanned the darkness again, and he came into focus as he limped up to us, pulling off the helmet. Blood had drenched his clothes, and not the black blood of the dragon. His clothing was drenched with red blood… his own.

  I gasped and rushed to him and as I got closer I saw the sharp leathery spike in his shoulder.

  “From its tail,” Cadmus explained with his jaw clenched tightly. “The beast got me by accident as it spun around.”

  Ares pushed past me and ripped Cadmus’ shirt off, leaning close to examine the wound. My husband’s blood pulsed around the base of the spike and Ares wadded up the ripped shirt and pressed it around the gaping hole.

  “We need the witch,” he muttered. “Of all of the times for her to turn traitor…”

  “What do you mean?” I asked in alarm. “Just put the helm back on him. He’ll heal.”

  Ares shook his head. “Daughter, you know that dragons have their own magic. We need special magic of our own to combat that. And I don’t know any, do you?”

  He glowered up at me as he hovered above my husband and I silently shook my head. He knew that I didn’t. My breath exhaled in short pants.

  “Then what should we do?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Cadmus insisted, but he was grinding his teeth together from the pain. I rushed to him, clutching his arm.

  “Don’t die,” I pleaded with him. “Please, don’t die. We’ll figure out something.”

  He gazed down at me, his dark eyes reflecting the fire of the river, his jaw clenched with pain.

  “You care, then?” he asked softly. “If I live or die?”

  “Of course I care!” I replied angrily. “How could you even ask that? I’m angry with you, but I’ll never stop loving you.”

  He reached up with a bloody hand and stroked the side of my cheek. As he moved, the rusty scent of blood filled my nose and my cheek was sticky where he had touched. My heart raced. I couldn’t let him die.

  “Zeus,” I breathed. “We must find Zeus- he can heal Cadmus.”

  “We must also find our daughter before Hades does,” Cadmus replied huskily. “I’m sure he will want to use her against us now, Harmonia. He must surely know that we are gone by now.”

  Realization settled upon me like a wet blanket. They were probably pursuing us even as we spoke.

  “Yes,” I agreed quickly. “I’m sure they are on their way. What do you suggest we do, Ares?”

  My father pondered that, his forehead wrinkled as he kept his hands pressed to Cadmus’ wound.

  “We should continue our course,” he finally said. “And let us begin with Tartara since we are already here.”

  “But what about Zeus?” I demanded. “We must find him to save Cadmus.”

  Ares shifted his gaze to me and his dark eyes were calm.

  “Harmonia, we don’t know where to begin. We are already here, so this is where we should start. And there is one thing that you are forgetting. Zeus’ sword. It can take away life, but it can also give it back.”

  I stared into his serious face. He thought Cadmus was going to die before we could even reach Zeus. I put a hand to my chest and took a deep breath.

  Ares continued quietly. “We’re as mortals right now, daughter. No mortal could survive that. He’s losing too much blood.”

  I looked at my husband. Ortrera and Aphrodite had he
lped him to the ground and his eyes were closed. His bronzed skin was turning pale already from loss of blood.

  I dropped to my knees next to him, clasping his hand.

  “Cadmus,” I murmured. “Open your eyes.”

  His chocolate eyes fluttered open, framed in a fringe of long lashes. By the gods, he was beautiful, even now. I brushed his hair out of his eyes and he leaned into my hand.

  “Don’t die,” I instructed. “Stay awake, Cadmus. We’ll find Zeus. He’ll save you, but you must fight until we find him. Do you hear me?”

  “Do you forgive me?” he whispered. “Can you forgive me for keeping the truth from you so long ago? If I could take it back and re-do it I would, I promise you.” He coughed and I saw blood on the corner of his mouth. I swallowed hard as I wiped it away. “I can’t die thinking that you can’t forgive me, Harmonia.”

  “You can’t die at all!” I cried. “Cadmus, please. I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I forgive you- I do. But you cannot die.”

  He nodded weakly. “I’ll try not to.” He closed his eyes again and rested his head against my lap.

  “It’s alright, my sweet,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Rest now.”

  “We need to move,” Ares said as he stared down at me.

  “I know,” I answered. “Why does this keep happening, Ares? Why? I’ve lost him in every life that I ever lived and even now, with the Fates gone, I’m going to lose him again.”

  “It’s your bloodstone,” he answered softly. “You know that it is cursed, Harmonia. Until the day that you no longer own it, misfortune will continue to follow you.”

  Anger exploded inside of me and I could barely think.

  “Why in the hell did Zeus allow Hephaestus to curse it?” I demanded. “I understand the fact that he needed me to have it, that it has his blood in it…and I’m the Chosen One and all of that crap. But did he have to allow it to be cursed?”

  Ares shrugged. “I know not, daughter. You know Zeus.”

  And that said everything right there. Zeus was not constrained or influenced by what might happen to others. He saw the big picture and he saw how things affected him and him alone. And suddenly, all of my anger that I had directed at my parents and Cadmus shifted to Zeus, where it belonged.

  “You know, “I pondered angrily. “I have always held the Fates’ responsible for my tragic lives, but perhaps it was Zeus all along. I’m sure the Fates enjoyed my tribulations and certainly, they deceived me into making your lives hell, too, but my own life—it would have been miserable no matter what. Because of Zeus!”

  I spun around and stared at my mother. She looked at me helplessly.

  “I don’t know what you wish me to say,” she answered. “You are probably right. But do not let the Fates off so easily. They used that very thing to their advantage and they did trick you for thousands of years.”

  “I know that,” I muttered as I gently extracted myself from Cadmus’ grip and stood up. “I do not need reminded. We should move now. There is no time to waste.”