Cupid’s Match
: Part 4 – Chapter 50

Venus places her hand on tank where Crystal floats, ghostlike, in the water. Wisps of the cupid’s blond hair twist and twirl in slow motion around her pale face.

My heart sinks. She looks like she is dead.

Venus looks at Cal. “This one is for you!” Then she runs over to the second door and brings her doll-like gaze to my face. “And this one . . . this one is for you!”

Cupid’s thumps against the glass are becoming weaker. I can see his mouth moving, but the words are lost behind the window. Every inch of me starts to tremble. I’m dangerously close to throwing up.

I need to get him out of there.

She claps her hands together impatiently. “Well? Come on then. Are you going to open your presents or not?”

For a moment I stay rooted to the spot. Is this a trick?

Then I don’t care anymore—I don’t care if it’s a trick, or if Venus is going to kill me, or that I’m going to be put on trial. I don’t care that Cal has betrayed me, or that I’m terrified, or that I may never get to see my dad again.

All I care about is Cupid—his life slowly trickling away into that container of water.

I bolt forward, past the desk, and past Venus, until my body slams into the glass of Cupid’s prison. I place my palms all over it, trying to replace out how to get it open. There’s no handle.

How can I get him out?

Cupid taps against the glass to get my attention then gestures behind him. I follow his gaze. Venus still stands between the two doors. She dangles two keys delicately from her fingers.

“Silly little Match,” she says. “You’ll need a key to open that door.”

I snatch the one for Cupid’s door from her, not looking at her face for a reaction; I just race back, my eyes searching for a keyhole.

I can’t replace it.

Cupid taps against the glass again and points to my left. There’s a small hole in the glass. I jam in the key, turn, and pull backward. The door bursts open, ice-cold water knocking me to my back before Cupid crashes down on top of me. His skin is cold and wet and he burrows his head down by my shoulder as he splutters and gulps in the room’s scented air.

I lay there in cold relief before I remember the other container.

Crystal.

I roll Cupid off me, frantically looking to see if Venus’s other victim is all right. Cal is striding toward the second door, his expression unreadable. He snatches the other key off Venus and glares at her. Then he slips the key into the lock and turns it, standing to the side as Crystal’s fragile body comes crashing out onto the floor.

“Crystal,” I whisper urgently, “is she . . .?”

Cupid is now on his hands and knees—retching water. He coughs a few more times and then looks at me. “Our kind can’t drown. Not fully,” he says, his voice wheezy and tired. “She’ll be all right, lovebug, eventually.”

With that he collapses back to the ground and rolls onto his back, stretching out wearily in the shallow puddle of water.

I look up at Venus. There’s a thunderous expression on her face and the air around her suddenly feels static and charged. The hairs on my arms prickle and stand on end.

“Look at the mess you’ve made on my floor. Water. EVERYWHERE.”

Although I flinch, Cal merely stares at her.

“Mother, what is the meaning of this? I understand Cupid—but why is Crystal here?” he asks, looking down at Crystal’s collapsed body with distaste.

She finally moves—a weak gasp escapes from her lips. I feel a small moment of relief.

“I mean, I couldn’t care less whether she lives or dies,” Cal continues.

Suddenly Venus is standing in front of Cal.

“You couldn’t care less?” Her lips are twisted into a smile but there is no kindness in her unblinking eyes.

“Of course not,” he snaps. “She’s one of your agents. She’s nothing to me.”

Venus steps away, her skirt of roses rustling as she moves. “Yes,” she says thoughtfully as Crystal begins to retch on the floor. “She is mine, isn’t she?”

She picks Crystal up by the neck of her drenched white jacket and throws her into the wall as though she weighs nothing. Crystal bounces off and thuds hard onto the ground.

“Mine to do whatever I please with.” Venus smiles that twisted smile again and advances slowly toward Crystal’s crumpled form. “She has been a very naughty agent, gallivanting around with Cupid and his Match. I think I will kill her.”

“Mother, if you hurt her now, you can’t make an example of her—like Lila, remember?” he says slowly. “You can put her on trial, too, so everyone will see what you do to people who betray you.”

Venus blinks then gives a disjointed kind of nod. Her movements make me think of a character in a creepy stop-motion film. “Yes. I’ll put her on trial with the others.” She looks at Cal and smiles sweetly. “At least I have one good son.”

She moves beside him and strokes his face with her white, slippery-looking fingers. Then she sighs.

“I’m bored of you all now. GUUAARRDDSS!”

The two agents from outside burst back inside.

“Help Cal transport these three downstairs. Put them with my other pets,” she says. “Come on. Hurry.”

The male agent scoops Crystal up over his shoulder while the woman pulls Cupid to his feet. Cal strides over to me and offers me his hand.

“Get up.”

I glare at him but allow him to pull me to my feet. I don’t know where we’re being taken, but it has to be better than being in here with Her.

“GO ON. GET THEM OUT OF MY SIGHT!” Venus screams as we all scramble toward the door. “I DON’T WANT TO LOOK AT THEM ANYMORE. GO! GO! GO!”

I don’t dare look back as the door closes behind us. Once outside, Cal lets go of my arm to pick up his bow and quiver from by the wall.

“This way,” he says, striding down the corridor toward the elevator.

I look behind me. Crystal is still wet and unconscious, draped over the male guard’s shoulder, while Cupid trudges beside the other guard, seemingly accepting his fate. I’m not sure if his calmness is terrifying or reassuring.

Does he have a plan? Or is he just too tired to fight?

As Cal and the agents usher us into the elevator, Cupid reaches for my hand and squeezes it. It’ll be okay, he mouths.

I wish I could believe that.

Back on the ground floor, we are marched to the indoor courtyard, where the male agent brings Crystal to the statue of Venus. I notice Crystal’s eyes blink open as the agent produces a key card and scans it across the face of the statue. Then he takes a step backward as the statue’s circular pool rises a couple of inches and slides across the cobbled stones. In its place is a gaping hole through which I can see the top of a twisted stairway.

“Let me go,” Crystal mumbles.

The agent places her back on her feet. He looks a bit embarrassed and I wonder if they know each other.

“Venus’s orders,” he mutters.

She gives him an icy look then surveys the rest of us. For a moment, she looks as though she’s going to make some kind of cutting remark, before seemingly deciding we’re not worth the energy. She shakes her head and heads down the stairway into the darkness beyond.

“I can take it from here,” Cal informs the two guards. When they just look at him hesitantly, he frowns. “Need I remind you that I am your superior? Go back to your post. I can handle a few prisoners.”

“You sure you can get their Sims fired up on your own?” the male guard asks.

I feel a cold dread as I remember what Cal had said about the Sims used for punishment. That is what is in store for us.

“Of course,” Cal says scornfully.

“Very well, sir,” the guard replies, and the two of them head back to their posts.

Cal leads us to the hole, waiting for Cupid and me to descend before he follows behind us. It’s dark at the bottom, dimly lit by flickering artificial lights attached to the low ceiling.

As we walk along the narrow hallway, my stomach begins to turn. Doors with barred windows line the walls, each one with a chair behind it. On each chair is a person—a person with no space to move—staring blankly into the darkness.

I peer into one cell as we pass by. A petite girl with creamy brown skin and jet-black hair has her eyes closed as though asleep. She must be around my age. When I look at her more closely, what I see makes me stagger backward. Her hair looks like it is moving, and I notice a small black snake entwining itself around her neck. A scribbled placard above the door reads Medusa.

We pass another door behind which a tall, scarred black man sits, his brown eyes staring out at nothing. I don’t catch the writing signaling his name, but I notice Crystal looking in at him and shaking her head sadly. I think back to The Records of the Finis.

Is he the Minotaur?

The lines of doors stretch onward and I see other names as we pass. Pandora. Romulus. Remus. Selena. And several I don’t recognize at all. And then my heart stutters when I see Charlie’s face peering lifelessly out of one of the barred windows.

Cal comes to a halt beside three empty cells. I’m filled with horror. I look up at Cupid for support, but to my surprise he is grinning. He walks past me and pats his brother on the back.

“Do you think Venus bought it?”

“I should think so,” says Cal.

“You got the Finis?”

Cal nods again.

“Good work, Brother.”

I’m confused, but Crystal just rolls her eyes. “You could have told me, you know,” she says to Cal. “Jerk.” With that she walks haughtily through the door nearest to her and sits down on the chair.

I stare at them, completely bewildered. “What’s going on?”

Cal turns to me, looking bashful. “I’m sorry, Lila,” he says. “It was the only way to get the Finis back in the building. You had to believe I’d betrayed you. Venus would have known if you didn’t.”

I think back to the house, remembering the long look that passed between Cal and Cupid before they went down to gather up the weapons. “You mean . . . this was the plan all along?”

Cupid nods. “A bit of a last-minute plan, but yes.”

For a moment I don’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed. I decide to settle on relieved. Things definitely aren’t perfect, but they aren’t looking as bad as they did five minutes ago. “Does there happen to be a part two of your secret master plan?”

Cal gestures at the rows of barred doors.

“Behind each one is a powerful enemy of Venus, an enemy who would like nothing better than to take her down. She keeps them all here in their own individual Sims. They’re tormented inside, their power used against them.”

He passes me, Cupid, and Crystal each a small microchip. Cupid slips his into his ear.

“That’s where we come in. We’re going to go into their Sims.” He flashes me a bright smile. “And we’re going to wake up some Myths.”