But not Zephyr. She’s neared to within maybe twenty yards and shows no signs of slowing.
Pell, get up. Get up. People can die.
I can die!
Zephyr shrieks again, and from the wild look in her eyes, she has no intention of stopping.
Pell! Now! Are you “one tough bitch” or not?
Since when does my inner voice use my favorite title against me?
I bite my lip. Arguing with myself is pointless. If what Harpoc says is true—and I’ve no reason to doubt, not anymore—I need to be the one to stop her, not Harpoc, his crazy secret magic demands it.
Do it, Pell. Do it! Like ripping off a Band-Aid.
I grip the rail and bolt up, my heart accelerating. “It was me! I brought you back! It was an accident.”
“You!” Zephyr locks her steely gaze on me, just ten yards away.
“Pell,” Harpoc whispers out the side of his mouth. “I’ve got this.”
“Doesn’t look like it to me,” I say, before returning my focus to the bare breasted, avian woman.
“Yes, me! Like I said, it was an accident. It’s not his fault. Please don’t hurt him.” My heart’s sprinting full out.
Am I really risking my life to protect him?
“Pell!” Harpoc bellows, as Zephyr closes to within five yards. Her enormous wingspan and those bobbing boobs make me feel like a fish before a hungry hydra. She’s got no sense of personal space.
“Pell, duck!”
Zephyr extends her claws fully and reaches for me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I scream, sounding nothing like the winged hussy.
Harpoc fists my coat by the shoulder, and everything goes dark. Weightlessness and disorientation gobble me down until daylight appears again a second later and I stumble, trying to get my feet under me.
Grace wins again and my knees meet the paved path. Damn it! At least I haven’t ripped my pants.
“Zephyr! Out here!” Harpoc yells, hands cupped around his mouth.
I make like a meerkat and sit up.
Outside. We’re outside the mouth of that cave. I’m sprawled beside the “Do Not Cross” tape. Zephyr hasn’t eaten me. We aren’t dead.
I brush my smarting knees off and scramble up as another of Zephyr’s nerve jarring shrieks boom from the darkness. It sounds like she’s headed this way.
“Come and get us, Zephyr!” Harpoc taunts. “Hang on, Pell,” he adds, turning to me.
I’ve no time to reply because the harpy shoots from the cave’s mouth and darkness and disorientation again consume me.
I pant, feeling my stomach lurch, and wobble to standing on a dirt and gravel patch a few seconds later. We land just before a gentle slope with a wooded copse ahead. Harpoc’s attention remains trained behind us.
“What are you doing? Where are you taking us?” My voice is a mix of panic and pissy at the rough treatment.
“Knossos.” He keeps his gaze behind us.
“What’s in Knossos?”
“There she is,” he says, then cups his hands to his mouth again. “Zephyr!”
Her awful screech tells me she spots us.
“What’s in Knossos?” I repeat, insistent as I turn and watch her approach.
Zephyr’s boobs bob as she swoops down, claws extended, nearly above us in no time. She’s fast!
I haven’t peed my pants yet, but…
“Give me your hand, Pell.”
I close the one step between us, and my stomach reels once more as darkness devours us.
“What are you doing?” I demand, the next time my feet find solid ground.
“Ever heard of playing cat and mouse?” Harpoc asks, eyes scanning the skies behind.
“We’re the bait?” My voice rises.
“Got a better idea?”
“Better idea? You’re gonna get us killed.”
“Hand.” He motions, post haste.
I extend my arm as Zephyr’s wings block the sun that’s still high in the sky. She shrieks, her tone increasing a decibel the instant she spots us, and we tripskip. Again.
“What’s in Knossos?” I bite out on our next landing. He still hasn’t said.
I hold my gut. My stomach has nearly lost it. I can’t be held responsible for what it does if we skip again.
“You know of the minotaur?”
Another screech from the “cat” nearly upon us, has us navigating blackness once more.
I fall to my knees and retch as soon as we land, almost wishing I puked on his boots. It’d serve him right.
“We’re heading to the labyrinth,” Harpoc says, as I spit out foul-tasting bile.
“The one Daedalus architected for King Minos?” I pant.
“The very one.”
“You do realize it’s been destroyed.” I run a sleeve across my mouth. I’m already a mess, why not stink like puke, too? See how well Harpoc enjoys that scent. I snicker.
I have to give it to Zephyr, she’s as persistent as I. Her screech reaches us not a minute later.
“Hand.”
I roll my eyes but stagger up, and we skip again.
I retch at the next four stops and start to wonder if a lung will come up next because there can’t be anything left in my gut. How I hate tripping.
I gulp in air, on hands and knees, after dry heaving again at our next destination.
How many? How many more times will we skip?
Harpoc lands us in a grove of conifers this time, so at least there’s a bit of cover.
He sends me a worried look but says nothing before turning his attention south rather than east as he has at every other stop. Lost in my stomach’s turmoil, I don’t care. It’s a free country, he can look anywhere he damn well pleases.
I ease back against the trunk of a tree, holding my stomach, and close my eyes. Zephyr will be here soon. I almost don’t care. I can’t handle much more.
