sharply peaked roof. Sconces burned with magic along the wall, illuminating the weapons that covered every inch. In the center, an iron spiral staircase went all the way up, allowing a person to climb to the top and select whatever deadly tool they wanted off the walls.
But I was here for something specific.
I dropped the sword since I no longer need it and ran up the stairs, searching the walls as I climbed. There was nothing in here that could hurt a god, which was no doubt why it had been so poorly guarded. Hades had put the man there out of show, no doubt, but he didn’t really fear anything in here.
He hadn’t counted on me, though.
Finally, I spotted what I was looking for, a pair of cuffs hanging halfway up the wall.
There was no chance in hell Hades would let me feed him anything with a poison in it, so I was going to need to get creative.
I pulled the cuffs from the wall, then started back down the spiral stairs. As I went, I grabbed a few choice items and shoved them into my bag. Some potion bombs that looked like they would explode nicely—if only something so easy could disable a god—along with a lovely long dagger and a shorter, tiny blade that would fit inside the ankle of a boot.
By the time I made it back down the stairs and out of the armory, only a few minutes had passed. I shut the door behind me and relocked it, then hurried down the hall, my heart racing a mile a minute.
Echo joined me, and when I’d reached the other side of the castle and could breathe properly again, I slipped into a closet and leaned back against the door, eyes closed.
Was I really going to do this?
Yes.
I totally was.
But first, I needed a spell.
20
Seraphia
My entire plan rested on the spell being real. I’d read about it in the book of erotic stories when I’d been waiting for Hades. He’d said that I’d been absorbed by the book, and I had been. It had been quite racy for such an old text.
But that hadn’t been the only thing that riveted me.
I’d read an ancient story of a mortal woman who’d used magic to bind a god so that she could have her way with him. She’d used an ancient Greek spell to enchant a pair of cuffs.
I was going to find that spell, and I knew just where to look.
I hurried back to the room where Hades and I had practiced. As I neared it, my footsteps slowed.
Would he still be there?
The last thing I needed was for him to find me with a bag full of weapons and handcuffs. I stopped outside the door, pressing myself against the wall. I couldn’t feel his presence, and it was something impossible to miss. Satisfied, I slipped into the room.
Echo fluttered in after me. I took in the vast quantity of books, doubt rising.
“There are so many.”
Echo didn’t answer.
I hurried to a shelf, hoping for some kind of organization. Unlike Hades’ personal collection, this one was orderly. There were sections for each culture, thank fates, and I found the Greek section fairly quickly.
Fortunately for me, I could read Greek. It’d been the first language I’d learned, back on Cyprus before Nana had taken me to London.
As quickly as I could, I scanned the books, pulling off a few that seemed hopeful. The scent of old parchment wafted up from the first book that I opened, and I breathed deep.
When in doubt, one could always count on research. Even deep in the heart of Hades’ fortress, my skills as a librarian served me well. I flipped through book after book, searching for the most ancient spells.
Against all odds, I found it within an hour.
Right there, right on the page.
My salvation.
I looked up at Echo, who hung from the chandelier high above. “It looks like I’m about to get lucky for the first time all week.”
He snored, a high, squeaking sound.
With trembling hands, I reached for the cuffs in my bag, laying them on my lap. With the other hand, I held the book open. I wasn’t necessarily going to be able to do this spell, but I was hopeful.
Spells were often the domain of sorcerers and witches. But not all spells. And in the story, a mortal had performed it.
“Hey, Echo, come help me out,” I called softly, waking the bat.
My friend Carrow had a raccoon familiar named Cordelia.