Thisone was of a man. A warrior, clearly. With that muscle mass, he hadto be. A gold collar circled his neck, cinching tight. He was on hisknees, legs spread. His arms rested on his thighs, palms raised. Hisdark head was thrown back, and he was roaring up at a domed ceiling.In pain, perhaps. Maybe even fury. There was blood smeared all overhis chest, seeping from multiple wounds. Wounds that looked as if hisskin had been carved away.
“Whois he?” Reyes asked.
“Idon’t know. I’ve never seen him before.” Then theywould reason this out as best they were able.
“Washe from heaven or hell?”
“Heaven.Definitely. I think he’s in Cronus’s throne room.”A god, then? A few months ago, Titans had overthrown the Greeks andseized control of the divine throne. So, if this man was in Cronus’sthrone room, chained up, hurt, and Cronus was leader of the Titans,that must mean the warrior was a Greek. A slave who had beenpunished, perhaps?
“Yousaw only this image?” Reyes asked. “Not what got him tothis point?”
“Correct,”Danika said with a nod. “I heard him scream, though. It was…”She shuddered, and his arms squeezed her in comfort. “I felt sosorry for him. Never have I heard so much rage and helplessness.”
“Wecan summon Cronus.”
Cronuswasn’t too fond of Reyes and his fellow Lords of theUnderworld-the very men who had opened Pandora’s box,unleashing the evil from inside. The men who had then been cursed tocarry that evil inside themselves. But the god king hated their