“What’s that?”
“When Sillus go through,” he says, “see other door.”
“Other door?”
“Not one,” he explains. “Many door.”
“Many doors?” My stomach flip-flops. “More entrances to our realm?”
“Yes,” he says. “More.”
“How many?”
I feel him shrug. “Seven, eight, ten.” He shrugs again. “Twenty. More.”
Twenty doors? Twenty portals between my world and the abyss. Sthenno said things are changing now that my sisters and I are reunited. This must be part of that change. I try to imagine what this means. More monsters in our realm? More cracks in the seal? More creatures out hypnotizing a human army to fight us when we finally break the seal?
This is not good news. We’re already vastly outnumbered. The imbalance is only going to get worse. We need to get the gorgons and get home. I don’t like the idea of Grace being back in San Francisco with more and more beasts roaming the streets, even with Nick to protect her.
He’s not completely useless in a fight, but they can’t take on an army on their own.
We have to get back there fast.
I pick up my pace, knowing that my exhausted companions will have to struggle to keep up. There’s no time to waste. We can rest when the war is over.
After a few more hours, my feet are dragging over the stone, and I’m embarrassingly relieved when we round a corner and the golden maiden tugs me to a stop.
“That is the entrance,” she whispers.
Across the open space in front of us is a massive door.
Twenty feet tall and ten feet wide, it glitters gold even in the dim glow of the abyss and our weak flashlights. Every last inch of the surface is intricately carved with mythological creatures and designs from ancient Greece: gods, monsters, and heroes of old. The Olympians couldn’t have put out a brighter This Way to the Home of the Gods sign if they’d framed it in neon and painted it Day-Glo orange.
I scan the area, expecting to see a legion of guards ready to spear us to the spot. This is the entrance to Olympus. It should be heavily protected.
There isn’t a sound, not a sign of another living creature within a hundred yards at least. My sense of smell is muddled by the general stench of the abyss, but I don’t sniff anything out of the ordinary. The door is completely undefended.
“Impossible,” I mutter. This can’t be for real. “What’s the catch?”
“It is not,” the golden maiden explains, “as easy as it looks.”
“Of course not,” I grumble.
What would be the point in making anything easier for us? Half the thrill is in the challenge. Straightforward and simple is so boring—takes all the fun out of saving the world.
“Let me guess?” I venture. “We try to open the door and vats of molten lead dump onto our heads.”
The golden maiden gives me a wry smile. “Not precisely.”
“Then how do we get in?”
“Is there a doorbell or something?” Greer asks, stepping up to my side.
“We wouldn’t use it if there were,” I snap, my exhaustion getting the better of my patience. “We’re not advertising our presence.”
“It was a joke, Gretchen,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Lighten up once in a while.”
Clearly she’s feeling better.
I clench my teeth and contemplate using her head as a door knocker.
“Petraie knows the way,” the golden maiden says before I can lunge for my sister. “She will guide us. Though perhaps we should rest for a short time. You will need all your strength once you reach the dungeons.”
“We will?” I didn’t miss her subtle hint. “Aren’t you coming with us?”
“I am,” she says, “but I do not require rest. I shall stand guard.”
I’m too wiped to even feel compelled to argue.
“Wake me if anything comes up.” I smile at her and then turn to the group. “We’re going to take a short break before we go in. Rest up while you can.”
I don’t deny that I need a nap too. When life gets back to normal, I definitely need to work on my endurance. Dropping my bag on the ground, I quickly find a comfortable position and close my eyes.
Seconds later I feel a warm ball of fur cuddle up next to me. I wrap my arm around Sillus’s little body and am asleep in less than a heartbeat.
“Gretchen, wake up.”
I blink awake in an instant. The golden maiden is leaning over me, a concerned scowl in place.
“I hated to disturb your sleep,” she says, “but a group of creatures approaches. I thought you might want to investigate.”
I nod, shaking the sleep out of my brain.
“Where?”
She leads me up a rocky incline. At the top, she gestures to the canyon below, where nearly twenty monsters are heading our way.
The one in the lead—a woman with hooves for feet—holds a glowing object in one outstretched palm. At first I think it’s for light. It’s dark enough in here that even a lightning bug would help.
Then the hoofed lady turns, taking the group away from our location. The red light in her palm dims. She immediately changes course, heading back toward us, and the red light flashes brighter.
It’s like a compass, only this one doesn’t point due north. It points to huntress.
“It’s leading her right to us.” That must be how they keep showing up. “We need to go. Now.”