Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 255(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 255(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
“What the hell is that?” Quaid asks, looking down at the ground, then up at the ceiling.
“The Labyrinth,” Aric says, still growling as he directs a glaring gaze at the goddess. He steps towards the guys and me, cutting in front of us as if he’s taken on the role of ultimate protector, and begins to circle her. “This time it was real, wasn’t it?” Aric asks. “The Minotaur is really dead.”
“And thus,” Nyx says, tipping her head up in a gesture of authority and relaxing her shoulders to fold her hands in front of her long, flowing black gown. “It must crumble. The game has been won.”
“By us!” Declan shouts.
Nyx finally directs her attention to someone other than Aric and me and looks over at him. “That’s correct, son of Hermes. You all won. Which is why I’m here. Would you like to claim your prize?”
“What prize?” Quaid asks. After getting to know him in some very stressful situations, I’ve gotten the impression that Quaid is not a ‘riddles’ guy. He likes straightforward, logical conversations, so his impatient side is showing. “And what do you have to do with it?”
Slowly her gaze finds his, and at the same time, her arms rise up, her finger stretched out, pointing behind him. Which is behind me, so we all turn and look at the portal.
“Paradise!” I say. “We can go now!”
“Not so fast, little Starling,” Nyx says. And again, that creepy smile appears on her face. “You can’t pass through as you are.”
“Here it comes,” Aric sighs, rolling his eyes. “The catch.” He makes air quotes with his fingers for those words.
“Indeed, son of Ares, there is a catch when it comes to portal magic. Especially when the objective is…” She trains her gaze right on me. “Paradise.”
“All right, let’s just get to the point here, can we?” Quaid says, ever the pragmatist. “There’s something happening to the maze and I don’t like it.”
As if on cue, again the ground rumbles deep beneath our feet. But this time, a crack appears in the stone floor. Not a big one, only about an inch wide, but what the hell? What is happening?
“Fine,” Nyx says, shrugging up one shoulder. Obviously untroubled by the shifting earth. “The doors to Paradise are open, but not permeable. Look, see for yourself.”
Since the room is circular and there are portal archways around the perimeter, we all find one to study without moving. They are not a clear and open doorway to indicate that we can walk through them, but they are more transparent than they were when we first arrived.
The death of the Minotaur had some effect on their permeability, but didn’t open them completely.
“If you want to go to Paradise, you must give up all your godly gifts,” Nyx says.
“What’s that mean?” Declan asks. But he’s not looking at Nyx, he’s looking at Quaid. And I find it interesting that the trust between us has developed to such a stage where Quaid is the one we turn to for facts. He’s our fountain of logic, I guess.
Quaid is shaking his head. “If you’re telling me that I have to give up my glasses to walk through that door to Paradise—”
“What?” Nyx cuts him off. “You don’t think it’s a fair trade?” She points to me. “Star isn’t worth the price of your rental tech?”
This is a biting insult. By highlighting the fact that his godly gift is borrowed, she basically just called him Mr. Nobody. And Quaid is smart and astute enough to understand this, and for a few moments, he is at a loss for words.
Nyx directs her attention to Aric. “And what about you? Do you feel the silly belt buckle is worth more than a lifetime in Paradise with a woman you could love? A woman who would love you back?” Her eyes dart to meet mine. “A woman who could give you a family? The family you’ve always craved but were never offered by a god who saw you as something to be cultivated, instead of loved?”
“Who are you?” I blurt. “And why do we care what you think about any of this?”
“I’m the goddess of the night, Pleiades Eight, that’s who I am. You live in my womb.” She points up at the night sky above her head. It’s still twirling, the stars leaving a circular white trail that indicates the passing of time.
I point up as well. “That’s my power. I saw it. I’m the one who makes the time pass. I’m the one who puts the cosmos on the right track. Because I’m the one who can make the Pleiades the center of the universe.”
For a moment, I think I see surprise on her face. But she quickly hides it before speaking. “You’ve figured it out then.”
“I saw it in the dream. I spin things. And this is how time passes.”