“The edge?” I ask. “There’s an end to this thing?”
She pauses before answering. “Of a sort.”
“What—”
“Quiet,” one of the twin guards says.
We all freeze and drop low to the ground. The pegasus moves close to my side and lifts his wing, urging me into his protection. I’m not usually one to accept help, but when I hear the footsteps, even I know it’s best to stay out of the way.
They are countless. Like the sound of an entire army marching by. The echoes draw closer and closer until it sounds like they are walking right over top of us. The protective wing tightens around me.
But I manage to push forward and peek out around the pegasus’s chest. The mass of bodies, walking in tight formation, is huge. There must be hundreds, at least. I watch in silence as they march upstream, disappearing around a bend in the canyon. None of us says anything until the last of the echoes dies down.
“Clear,” the guard says.
Everyone exhales and returns to standing positions. As we get moving, I ask, “What was that?”
“Nychtian Army,” Sillus says.
“Army?” I echo.
“The Army of the Night,” the golden maiden says. “The force that plans to take over Panogia.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“The dark creatures of Abyssos wish to have free, unregulated access to the human realm,” she explains. “The only way to do so is to attack the guardians once the seal is broken.” She gives me a sad look. “They train now to overtake you and your sisters, to kill you so the door may remain open wide for eternity.”
My stomach churns at the thought of that army taking on me and my sisters. Fighting monsters one or two or even five at a time is manageable. But an entire army?
“That seems like a pretty big army,” I say, forcing the words out through a dry mouth. “Seems like overkill to send that to take out three little girls.”
“You are no ordinary girls,” the golden maiden says.
“More army still,” Sillus says. “Humans fight too. Monsters hypnotize.”
“Hush, Sillus,” the pegasus says. “You will frighten her.”
Too late. “Humans?” I ask. “They’re hypnotizing humans to create a second army?”
The golden maiden nods, a sad smile on her face. Like she can already picture our defeat. She doesn’t know me very well. Or my sisters. We won’t go down easy.
“What’s the point?” I ask. “Even if they succeed, couldn’t the gods just reseal the door? Couldn’t they wind up just as badly off as they are now?”
She shakes her head. “The original sealing ritual was very specific.”
“Only three outcomes are possible when the Key Generation arrives,” the pegasus says. “The triplets open the door and take up the guardianship.”
“Keys open door,” Sillus adds, “and leave unguarded.”
“Or they seal the door,” the golden maiden finishes. “For all eternity.”
There is something about the way she says that, about the third option, that sends shivers down my spine. From my perspective, it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea to seal the door. Makes my job, my life, a whole heck of a lot easier. Clearly it’s not that simple.
“What happens if we seal the door?” I ask, almost fearing the answer.
Her golden eyes fill with dark tears. “Every creature in Abyssos dies.”
The air in my lungs whooshes out and I feel hot and shaky all over. I look around at the creatures who are helping me, who are treating me like a friend and not a deadly enemy—even knowing I can kill them with a single bite. Even knowing I hold their collective fate in my hands. The reality that they would die, all of them, without consideration, is unthinkable.
If the run-in with the laestrygon taught me anything, it’s that I’m a huntress, not a killer.
“I won’t let that happen,” I say. “I promise.”
They look skeptical, but they don’t know me. They don’t know I don’t make promises lightly. If I promise something, then I make sure it happens. My actions will show them the truth.
“I promise,” I say again. “But right now, in order to get back with my sisters and do whatever we have to do to break the seal, I need to find my friend and get out of here.”
“Of course,” the golden maiden says.
As we resume the long trek to the Den, I make a mental vow to do whatever it takes to make sure the door doesn’t get eternally sealed.
“What in Hades is that?” I whisper.
We’ve just crested a rocky hill, and on the slope below is a long line of monsters. Every creature known to man and mythology stands like it’s waiting at the DMV or something.
“Line,” Sillus says.
I throw him a look that says, I can tell it’s a line.
Pegasus says, “That’s the line to get out. For the next window into your realm.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. There are so many. Countless. And they are all waiting to get out into my world, to attack humans, to hypnotize them, to hunt my sisters.
“How often does the portal—the window—open?” I ask.
“It used to happen quite rarely,” the golden maiden says. “Perhaps once every two or three days in your realm. But recently—”
“It’s been more frequent,” I finish. “Yeah, I’ve been facing more and more beasties lately. And more than one at a time.”