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and Zander took off for the door.
    “D, Gryphon,” Theron said, “I want you to check the portal, make sure no one’s crossed—”
    “Oh, gods, the portal,” Callia cut in.
    The blood drained from Casey’s face when she made the connection too.
    Theron glanced between the two. “What now?”
    Casey turned to her husband. “The secret portals. I told you that’s how Callia, Isadora, and I crossed into the human realm when you and the guardians were at the Misos colony. We couldn’t use the main portal because the Executive Guard was monitoring it and they never would have let us through.”
    “I remember. What—?”
    She placed her hand on his forearm, right over the Argonaut markings, ancient Greek text that ran up and down his arms and signified him as the warrior descendant of one of the seven greatest heroes in all of ancient Greece. “Theron, the secret portals are manned by witches. Orpheus took us there. They recognized Isadora the day we crossed. I didn’t think anything of it then, but now—”
    “Orpheus,” Demetrius growled at Casey’s back.
    Casey whipped around and did a double take at the malice in Demetrius’s eyes. Demetrius stalked to the door without a word, his long black coat flapping in his wake.
    “Gryphon,” Theron said quickly. “Your brother—”
    “I’m on it.” Gryphon jogged for the door. “I may want to kick Orpheus’s ass now and then, but even I wouldn’t sic D on him.”
    When the room fell silent, Casey turned toward her husband. She knew he was doing everything he could, but the heavy weight on her heart and that tingling near her lower back told her something was very wrong. “Theron,” she whispered.
    “Shh, meli .” He pulled her close. “We’ll find her.”
    Casey leaned into his touch and glanced at Callia. Across the room her half sister crossed her arms and chewed on her thumbnail. And in her eyes Casey saw the dread she felt reflected right back at her.
    ***

    The black mist rolled through Demetrius as he flashed to the sidewalk on Corinth Avenue in the Draco region of Tiyrns, the slum that was home to the lowest life-forms in all the city. Dusk had just settled in, and the streetlights above glowed orange in the fading light. He took in the trash in the gutters, the run-down buildings, the bars on the windows, and the swaying signs from businesses that had long ago called it quits in this part of Argolea.
    He knew this area well. Knew the pub across the street, with its blaring music and raucous laughter. Knew several who inhabited the seedy establishment even better, because they came here for the same things he did. But there was no way Isadora could have known about this place. And just the thought of her walking these streets to find Orpheus sent that black mist boiling.
    He spotted Helios, Orpheus’s “shop,” halfway down the street, and headed in that direction. Oh, the irony that Orpheus’s shop bore the same marking those damn witches glorified.
    “Hold up, D,” Gryphon called. “Shit, wait for me, would ya?”
    Demetrius ignored the guardian and didn’t stop until he was outside the shop’s door. The sign said “Closed” but he turned the handle and found it unlocked. Stepping inside, he glanced around the dimly lit interior with its tables and shelves overflowing with trinkets. Human shit. Things Orpheus had no doubt pilfered from the human realm and brought to Argolea to hawk.
    Gryphon moved past Demetrius and picked up a snow globe on a nearby table. A soft chuckle came from his throat as he turned the globe in his hand and little white flakes floated through the clear liquid inside. “Man, the Council’s gonna love him when Uncle Lucian finally retires.” His eyes shifted to Demetrius. “Can you see good ol’ Orpheus on the Council of Elders, advising the king or Isadora or whoever in Hades is running this place by then?”
    No, Demetrius couldn’t see Orpheus as any kind of advisor to anyone. It was a sick twist of