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his own. He could bend it to his will and empower himself .
    All he had to do was raise his voice in the viper’s spell. All he had to do was surrender to the truth that life was harsh and unyielding, that one gained only what one took .
    These were not his impulses and they never had been. Drake gritted his teeth and ignored the summons. He climbed ever deeper into the earth, steeling himself with the memory of women facing adversity.
    Cassandra at the gate.
    Veronica with her hand on her son’s shoulder.
    Both of them with fire in their eyes. Both of them knowing the odds were long and not caring.
    Surely he could do the same.
    Â 
    Drake didn’t know how far he had traveled or how deep he had delved when he saw a light ahead of him. It was yellow and feeble, and just the sight revolted him.
    He shifted shape, silent and wary, then carried on into the viper’s den. Drake froze at the sight of Cadmus.
    The ancient Pyr had lost his scales. He was pale and soft and bloated, only his eyes gleaming with the coals of that old fire. He looked like the worm he was, pale yellow like a maggot. There was a smell about him, one that revolted Drake more than the sight of him.
    Cadmus smiled and his teeth were gone, his gums blackened. “Finally, my apprentice has arrived,” he said, his voice melodic, even when he ceased his spell.
    â€œI am no apprentice of yours.”
    â€œNo? Not when we have so much in common?” Cadmus gestured to one side and Drake saw a skeleton in the shadows. The skin was long gone, the dust heavy upon the frame. “Dust,” Cadmus whispered. “After the firestorm, we all age more quickly. When one’s mate is dust, what point is there?”
    â€œHarmonia,” Drake murmured, tearing his gaze from the site of what she had become. He would remember her in her glory, on her wedding day. He recalled her with gems in her hair and embroidery on her hems, the necklace given by her father gleaming at her throat. He would remember the gods and goddesses themselves reclining on golden couches, celebrating the match. “She was radiant.”
    â€œShe was a curse upon me!” Cadmus retorted.
    â€œShe loved you! She was your destined mate.”
    â€œShe was poison.” Cadmus moved restlessly, and Drake saw the movement was painful for him. “She was her father’s daughter first. Whose viper did I kill? That of Ares himself. And whose daughter did I wed?”
    â€œThat of Ares himself,” Drake admitted.
    â€œAnd she wore those gems he had wrought for her, and brought naught but misery into my life.” Cadmus was bitter in his hatred and his eyes burned. “Every child of mine met with misfortune. Every possession we gathered was destroyed. She was no gift but a curse. She was Ares’ vengeance for my killing of his viper.”
    Cadmus eased closer, leaving a line of slime on the floor of the cavern. “And what of you? Is your precious Cassandra not lost to you, stolen by the gods while you slept? Do you imagine that she was faithful? Whose idea was it that you rode to war? Maybe she had a lover…”
    â€œNo!” Drake shouted. He recognized that this too was the viper’s spell, being presented for his benefit. He leapt at the old viper and slashed at his hide. Cadmus, devoid of armor or the ability to defend himself, cried out in pain.
    He still had the weapon of his words, though.
    â€œWomen!” Cadmus whispered. “The natural mates of men and our enemies every time. They enchant us with their wiles and turn us from our true purpose.”
    â€œNo,” Drake insisted, striking another blow upon the bloated old worm. “They remind us of what is important. They show us truth. They and their love turn us from the allure of Ares.” He leaned closer, fighting his reaction to the stench of Cadmus. “Harmonia was the child of Aphrodite, too. That you did not heed her song of love meant that you