Chapter 19 #3
There is something you must know, he signed, resignation weighing heavily in his limbs.
I rushed forward, expecting the worst.
Velira must have landed hard… too hard… for she is mended, but no longer whole.
Perplexed, I shaped quick words with my fingers. What do you mean?
My eyes skated over her limb. As far as I could tell, nothing was amiss.
Surely he was mistaken?
In answer, Apollo took one step to the side, revealing the bulk of Velira’s right hind foot.
Metallic purple scales decreased in size as her leg narrowed, the smallest of which led to her sharp, ivory claws. Lying beside her two whole taloned toes on the warm, weatherworn cobblestones, lay something long, grey and rock-like.
A thick, stone, taloned toe.
Oh.
Velira took one look at the appendage and snorted. A brief burst of flame escaped her nostrils as a low rolling rumble emanated from deep in her throat.
Exactly what is so funny? I asked the delirious beast.
She snorted again.
Looks like we get to keep a mementoe of this battle after all.
My brows flew up to my hairline. You’re joking.
Dragons don’t joke. They do, however, toe the line between wit and irony.
Vel! I admonished, stifling the giggle that threatened to flit past my teeth.
What? You’re not toetally innocent of that either, Majesty, she said sarcastically, sniggering huskily as she spoke.
“Is she okay?” Caelus asked, stepping up beside me, concern lining his bloodstained face.
A quick glance confirmed he was as confused as I was, though he was spared the toe-themed humour.
“Toetally,” I answered. The giggle finally slipped free, joining Velira’s snorting chortle.
“You are both…” He began, crossing his arms, looking for the right word. “Bewildering.”
At least we don’t tiptoe around that fact, Vel cackled through my mind, earning another hoot of laughter from my gullet.
Caelus and Apollo shared a look of perplexed horror, neither understanding what exactly was driving us to the brink of hysteria.
Eventually, though, the events of the day hit home and our laughter died out.
The fact that we stood on a road stained crimson by mortal blood, black by Tartarian serpents, and gold by the hallowed blood of gods, was impossible to ignore. The fact that mere feet away, crows plucked the eyeballs from casualties both foe and ally, levelling our amusement. Razing it.
“Do we know how many were lost?” I asked finally, feeling the remnants of death drifting away. Souls — leaving this place behind.
Caelus shook his head. “Not yet. Athena was organising a final count, last I heard.”
“Good. We didn’t lose her, at least.” I met his gaze, dreading what had to be asked next.
But I didn’t have to.
“No gods fell today,” he answered my unasked question — the one he could see hovering behind the green of my irises.
My shoulders dropped, the weight of that, at least, dissipating.
His palm reached up to cup my face; his thumb painting circles upon my cheek. Steady. Reassuring.
I know that look, Nightshade, he sent through our bond.
I frowned. What look?
The one that means you’re blaming yourself. He frowned pointedly right back.
I heaved a long sigh, my gaze darting between each of his strangely coloured eyes. The black ring surrounding the silver seemed thicker — like my darkness was trying its damndest to eclipse his light.
That was my fault, too.
Is it not? The fact that we’re here — that people have died, Caelus — is it not because of me? Because I fractured… something… and allowed Kronos to escape from what should have been his eternal prison?
He stepped closer, his head dipping so that our noses almost touched. I’ll try not to take offense to that question, because by doing what you did, you allowed me to live — to be here with you.
The severity in his gaze gave me pause.
I don’t regret even a second of it. And I’ll not let you regret it either.
His hand skated around to the back of my head as his lips met mine in a charged kiss — and for the first time today, I surrendered.
I opened to him, allowing him to lead this fervent declaration of his remorselessness; his gratitude; his love. A current passed between us — evidence that he was losing the battle of self-control — and I broke the kiss with a wicked smile.
“I know that look, too,” he murmured with a smirk.
“Oh?” My smile grew.
“Oh.” His teeth flashed. “And if you don’t stop, I’ll be forced to leave clean-up to the others whilst I whisk you away to tend to you.”
My heart raced to a staccato beat in my chest. His words ignited something within me that I was thus far unaware could be kindled on a battlefield. The temptation was almost too great to withstand.
And the expression upon his own face almost dared me to.
“Caelus, I—”
Whatever I’d intended to say vanished like leaves in the wind when a scrap of darkness skirted the base of the Dayspire and disappeared down a ravaged road.
My brows scrunched together. It almost looked like—
“Nyssa!” Caelus called after my bolting form. The thud of his boots echoed behind, though I was losing him. But I couldn’t afford to dwell on that when the shadow was losing me.
It led me down winding side streets and dirt lanes that bordered golden wheat fields. It steered me through a bustling market square, busy with the frenzy of late afternoon purchases despite the threat of monsters that had ravaged the eastern end of their idyllic city no more than an hour ago.
Then again, the shape had taken so long to guide me past them, that perhaps they did not yet know. Perhaps the morbid news had not yet reached their oblivious ears. And perhaps when it did, more than a few would crash to their knees at learning of the losses of loved ones.
Because many innocents had perished before we’d arrived to stem the tide of beasts.
Many more would still succumb to the whims of Kronos’ commands — unless we could find a way to stop him before he destroyed the mortal realm beyond repair.
But perhaps that was his intention all along.
I pulled up, panting, my head whipping around to locate the oddly familiar apparition. I’d lost sight of it after being led around a blind corner, slamming into an oily, pot-bellied male who reeked of zythos if it had been left out to spoil in the sun.
The man grunted, landing firmly on his backside in the mud. He unleashed a creative string of curses, glaring as his words increased in volume — and unfortunately also in flecks of spittle.
I moved not an inch — though I did let a sliver of my power show.
The man floundered, scooting backwards before rolling to his feet and fleeing — his flat, mud-covered ass the last view of him I would ever see.
Sometimes there were advantages to possessing a power that revealed the skeleton beneath my skin when I wielded it. But my amusement faded quickly when I realised I’d lost the phantom for good.
Godling?
No darting black shapes lingered at the corners of my vision; no ghostly flickers left behind to guide me.
It’s nothing. I sighed. I’ll find my way back shortly.
I pivoted, intending to walk off the confusion and agitation plaguing me — and the mess I’d readily left behind — when I felt him.
No need — you have a personal guide.
So I see.
Caelus appeared between two buildings on the far end of the square. His eyes immediately found mine across the open space — without even needing to search, they just instinctively knew where to find me.
He had adapted to this bond much faster than I. Whether that was because he had known about it for months longer, or because he was the one to weave it into place, I couldn’t say. But I still had a lot to learn about it.
I joined him in the centre of the marketplace square, our presences slowly being noticed by those in attendance. Whispers and stares met us as we parted the sea of mortals like magic.
“Why did you run?” Caelus asked, voice pitched low, his words only meant for me. His brows were drawn, sweat running black down his bloodstained cheeks.
“I thought I saw something,” I murmured, allowing him to sweep me into his warm embrace. “I lost it, though.” I pulled back, realising I’d lost sight of something else today, too. “Did you see which way the serpent flew?”
Thankfully, he nodded. “Over the seas. East. Toward—”
“Othryx,” I finished. “Tartarus, why didn’t we think to look there first?!”
He eyed me speculatively. “Honestly? Athena did think of it. Aros, too.”
“Well, why didn’t anyone think to include me in these deliberations?” I scowled, just barely reigning in the urge to stomp a foot.
“We intended to, Nightshade. The council meeting that was scheduled for this afternoon was supposed to be about just that.”
“But then Meloidia was attacked…” I looked skyward. Maybe the heavens had answers for me.
“Then Meloidia was attacked,” Caelus agreed. Changing tactics, he asked, “What was it you thought you saw? It’s not the first time you’ve been able to see something I haven’t and immediately dismissed it.”
I bit my lip, mindful of the crowd that had gathered to view us like great works of art — or animals in an enclosure.
“Go to your homes!” I growled at them, scattering the closest few. “Ensure your loved ones are there. The Dayspire and eastern third of Aurelia have been attacked by a horde of monsters sent from Tartarus itself.”
“You mean sent by you?!” one called — an elderly man sporting a long white beard and tatters for robes. “I know you, daughter of Hades,” he seethed. “I remember what your father was once capable of — what you are capable of — and we do not worship your kin here.”
Gasps rang out from the surrounding crowd. No one dared to address a god that way and expect to escape unscathed.
Especially not Hades.
I straightened to my full height, an entire foot above the man, and approached slowly. One silent step at a time.
He swallowed audibly but his eyes did not surrender.
He was either stupidly brave — or brazenly stupid.
“You say you know me, but you are sorely mistaken,” I said, voice lethally quiet. “While it is true that I am the daughter of Hades…” I tilted my head as a serpent would. As a dragon would. “The Hades you know is no more.”
Shock rolled through the crowd like a wave. A second wave followed when I called to the crowns, letting them both appear on my brow — golden and fractured, wispy and grey, final and absolute.
“I am Hades.”
My gaze touched on the onlookers like bees on a field of flowers.
“My name is Nyssa — you would do well to remember it...”
My declarations were met with silence. Even the children stared with slack jaws.
“...because I am queen of the three realms.”
Caelus strode to the front, kneeling before me. The mortals were quick to follow his lead — all except the lone man with rage in his heart and fear in his veins.
My lips parted to ask his name when a sound so melancholic and heartfelt filled my ears. All at once I was lost to the melody; to its trilling highs and sorrow-filled lows.
“What is that?” I asked instead, taking two steps closer to its origin.
The man followed my gaze then rolled his eyes. “That’s just Orland. He’s the local drunkard. Prone to fits of song when he’s too deep in his cups.”
My brows flickered. I wondered why I was so profoundly affected by a mortal alcoholic — albeit a mortal alcoholic with the voice of a muse. A quick glance confirmed I wasn’t the only one so heartily affected. Caelus’ expression likely mirrored my own — his stance certainly did.
“You’ll want to head into The Drunken Dragon” — he raised his palms in surrender when I skewered him with a glare — “What?! I didn’t name it… Majesty,” he whispered, eyeing my dual headpieces. “But it’s where you’ll find Orland.”
I walked off without another word, scowling when the man called a sardonic, “You’re welcome!”
Caelus captured my hand in his own, dwarfing it in his lightning-scarred fingers.
My heart flopped in my chest at the small gesture, and I knew he felt the surge of emotion in his own when I was rewarded with an adoring smile.
The song reached its crescendo just as we passed through the creaky wooden door of the ill-named tavern, hanging askew on its hinges as if some wine-addled fool had crashed into it on his way out and nobody had thought to repair it.
And there, in the corner of the room, upon a small raised platform, was a lone singer with his broken lyre. His song, even more than the sirens’ had, called us over; beckoned us to him, like we were moths, and he the flame.
“Dark was the hair that dripped down her back,
Light was the blue of her eyes,
Pale were the hands that tore her away,
Though mine was the soul’s demise.”
When the man finished singing, as though a trance had been lifted, he opened his eyes and blinked rapidly. Upon seeing us pressed so close, treasuring his every note, he jolted back so suddenly that the stool he was perched on tipped over, and he landed with a resounding thud on his back.
The tavern’s few patrons cackled with glee as Orland clambered to his feet, swaying slightly. He stared at me, cocking his head to the side, owlishly tittering as recognition fluttered across his features.
“I know you,” he slurred, taking one unsteady step forwards before folding in half and emptying the contents of his stomach all over Caelus’ boots.
He grimaced as Orland collapsed in his own mess, shoulders drooping in defeat, then sighed deeply. “At least I don’t wear sandals anymore.”