I step up to the door.
“Ursula!”
I can’t hide the pain in my voice, not even from myself.
“We have to get her out,” I say without turning around. “Now.”
I wrap both hands around a steel pipe in the door and yank. The door rattles but doesn’t budge. I yank again, pulling with every last ounce of my super strength. Two more pairs of hands appear alongside mine—pale ones and gleaming golden ones. Together, we grunt and pull, to no avail. The door stays solidly in place.
“It’s no use,” Greer says.
“Ursula,” I shout, louder. “Euryale!”
She stirs, but only slightly. There’s the barest hint of movement beneath her flowing garments. My breath huffs out in a relieved sigh. She’s alive.
That’s all the encouragement I need.
“The steel is too strong,” the golden maiden says. “It will not yield.”
“Then we do it the easy way.” I tap at the metal plate that shields the locking mechanism. It looks like a standard, old-style prison lock. It’s big, black, rusty, and—hopefully—vulnerable to picking.
“How?” Greer asks.
“Basic military strategy,” I explain. “Attack the most vulnerable spot. The lock.”
I bend down, rip open the flap on one of my cargo pockets, and pull out a multitool—one that’s supposed to have a tool for every situation. I hope it lives up to the salesman’s promise.
Flipping through the seven thousand accessories, I finally decide on the flathead screwdriver. I shove the point into the keyhole, wiggle it around, and pray something happens. I’ve never had to pick a lock before. Monsters aren’t usually hiding behind closed doors—I find them in the open, on crowded streets, or in back rooms and alleys, hunting somewhere with easy access.
Now I wish I’d developed the skill.
After several jerks and pulls and twists and curses, feeling nothing but the scrape of metal on immovable metal, I give the door a solid kick.
“How are we supposed to get in?” I hate feeling helpless. “How are we supposed to get her out?”
“We simply have to think this through,” Greer says. “There must be a solution—something obvious that we just aren’t seeing.”
“Sillus help huntress.”
I turn to see the little monkey emerging from the labyrinth, running toward me, his teeth bared in a huge grin.
“How?” I ask.
He jams his fist into the air.
There, dangling from his little furry hand, is a set of thick black keys.
“Where’d you get those?” I demand, snatching the keys from him.
He shrugs. “Sillus find.”
Right. The unconscious dungeon guards.
“Nice thinking,” I tell him.
His little monkey face beams.
I choose one of the big metal keys, shove it into the lock, and turn. Nothing. I choose another. The third key finally works. With a heavy clank, I feel the lock mechanism roll over.
“Yes!”
Everyone cheers.
I yank the door open and dash to my mentor’s side.
“Ursula,” I say gently, kneeling down at her side. “It’s Gretchen. I’m here. You’re safe.”
She makes a sound.
“What’s that?”
I lean down closer, until my ear is right next to her mouth.
“Not safe,” she rasps. “Too dangerous.”
Yes, the world around us is dangerous and we won’t be safe until we’re home, but I can’t help but take a moment to look at my long-missing mentor. Seeing her in such an abused state hurts worse than the burn of monster venom in my bloodstream ever has.
“Leave,” Ursula whispers.
Warning tingles down my spine as everything falls quiet. Silence in a place like this is never a good thing.
“We have to move,” I command as I unlock her chains. “Now.”
Squatting down, I slip one arm under Ursula’s shoulders and the other under her knees. I stand too easily. She’s lost a lot of weight.
“Why?” Greer asks, panic in her voice. “What’s wrong?”
I turn to face her.
“You hear that?”
She tilts her head. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly.” I hold Ursula a little tighter. “This place just got deadly quiet.”
“Time hurry,” Sillus says.
Without bothering to agree, I take off through the maze, heading for the bridge. I hear the others following me, but I don’t take time to check. If something is happening, we don’t have a second to spare. Someone could be on the way to intercept us right now. With our luck, someone already is.
“Oh noes.” Sillus skids to a stop as he emerges from the labyrinth first.
Stepping out behind him, I see what’s waiting for us on the other side of the bridge: a group of soldiers, heavily armed with golden weapons. There are at least a dozen of them. They carry golden shields and wear golden helmets that clearly mark them as the Arms of Olympus.
I mutter a string of curses.
This is just what we needed.
“Where’s Thane?” Greer whispers.
He stayed behind to guard the bridge, but here’s the bridge being overrun by our enemies, and Thane is nowhere in sight. Did he abandon us? Or did he set us up? I don’t have time to wonder about his loyalty right now.
How are we going to get out of this?
Then, as I’m just about to formulate a plan, I see a flash of quiet movement behind the group of soldiers. It’s Thane, coming out of some hiding spot in the shadows. He takes a strategic position that puts the soldiers between us and him. I know exactly what he has planned. The boy has tactical skills.
I quickly—and carefully—hand Ursula to the golden maiden, who nods in understanding. Stepping up to our end of the bridge, I shout across the moat, “What’s the matter? Afraid to come over here and fight a girl?”
“You are no girl,” one of the soldiers yells.
“Now that is downright insulting.” I squat down and pull daggers from my Doc Martens. “Looks like I’ll have to defend my honor.”
I step onto the bridge, blades at the ready. I just need to draw them forward a few feet.
A deafening roar echoes up into the chamber from the hallway beyond, shaking the very stone I’m standing on. The noise startles the soldiers, who look up and around as if the space has come to life, and I take advantage of their distraction. I rush forward, grab the lead soldier in a choke hold, and pull his back tight against my body.
With a dagger to his throat, he’s not too eager to struggle.
“Looks like I caught the prize,” I call out, taunting his soldiers as I back across the moat.
They turn back around, and instinct—their desire to save their leader—overrides good sense. In a rush, they hurry toward me, out onto the bridge.
Right where I want them.
“No,” their leader shouts.
But it’s too late. With a quick jerk, I spin him out of my hold and send him sailing off the bridge, into the fiery
