Chapter 28 Nyssa #3
A serpentine smile split her face, and the taste of her excitement fizzed like bubbles on my tongue.
You’d better not eat them before I do, she drawled.
Gross.
A rolling laugh carried across the air until it disappeared when her head did.
Be safe, she said as her dagger-sharp tail vanished into the blackness.
“I’ll try,” I whispered after her.
Caelus extended an elbow, the lightning-shaped scars traversing his skin glittering under Helios’ sun. “It’s time. Shall we?”
Ignoring his chivalry, I ducked under his proffered arm and popped up in front of him. Standing on the tips of my toes, I leaned in, giving him a feather-soft kiss. “We shall,” I whispered against them, reaching for his hand instead.
But Caelus was not satisfied with one tiny meeting of our lips.
He snaked a hand around the back of my head, drew himself closer, and captured them in a way that left no room for doubt or despair or anything other than the simplicity and overwhelmingness of us.
A cleared throat dragged us both back into the present moment; to the looming meeting and war beyond. We broke apart in no great hurry — Caelus gave me one last peck, only to be chased down for another, quicker one by me — and turned, it seemed, to face our fate.
As the sun touched the distant horizon, the first ship docked at the island’s only pier. The other boats, realising this, had anchored several hundred yards out, already lowering rowboats bearing royal cargo.
This ship boasted crimson banners depicting golden swords crossed with spears, and the shape of a leaping doberman carved into its figurehead. I knew exactly where this boat came from — I just wasn’t entirely sure I was ready to meet them, but we waited for them at the midpoint of the dock, anyway.
Six hulkish figures stomped down the gangway dressed in nought but periskelis, sandals and greaves.
Upon their heads were gold-plated helmets with thick, red plumage, and their shoulders were adorned with scarred leather pauldrons, whose straps criss-crossed over their obscenely muscled chests.
All six approached as a unit — a well-oiled machine accustomed to moving together as one singular cohort.
These were the warriors of Strathos: the rugged desert landscape housing only the hardiest of mortals.
Nothing much dwelled in their barren dunes, except for the Bloodhold — the brutalistic military academy dedicated to training soldiers who were as close as any mortal could get to the combat ability of gods.
Removing their helms did not, in fact, make them seem any more approachable — it only served to highlight the scowls and scars on each of their faces.
One stood out despite this: he strode to the front with the air of someone who considered all others less than.
Looking down his crooked nose, he considered us.
Though he was not taller, nor wider, nor did he possess any other physical advantage over his compatriots, something in his face commandeered attention. Demanded it.
I recognised him by his prominent scar slashing down through one brow, skirting the eye but continuing on down his cheek — their king.
Ballsy of them — to send their actual reigning monarch.
No ballsier than attending yourself, Vel returned snidely, her voice faintly echoing through my mind.
Resisting the urge to look up and seek her out, I instead opted to stare the mortal king down.
Fair. My lady-balls are rather ridiculously huge, thank you for noticing.
Lykos approached, stopping directly behind Caelus and I, his enormous snout hovering just above our heads. Sniffing once, he growled — loud and menacing enough to rival Vel.
Their king did not so much as flinch — his companions, however…
“What fierce warriors you are,” the king snarled in a biting accent, tearing off each vowel with his teeth as if they personally offended him. “Terrified of a great beast’s warning.”
They jerked to attention, muscles tense, anticipating any attack — even a verbal lashing from their sovereign. It seemed his words had already landed to great effect, though — no further rebukes fell from his sneering lips.
“I am King Arius. And you are?” he enquired, somehow managing to look down at me despite the fact that we were the same height.
My lip tugged up into a mockery of a smile as I let a morsel of my darkest power slip free.
Shadows flickered around my body and Arius’ eyes widened enough to see the whites around the perimeter of his irises.
The skin on my arms flickered between transparent and corporeal and I knew my skull would be peering through as well.
“I am Nyssa,” I said in that eerie, otherworldly voice. “Daughter of Hades. Queen of all realms.”
I summoned the crowns for good measure.
Arius paled as he registered them. “Forgive me. We did not realise Zeus had relinquished his throne.” He dipped his head in a shallow nod — his warriors exaggerating theirs to compensate for the slight.
“My father relinquished nothing,” Caelus boomed from beside me, eyes sparking and dangerous.
“It was forcibly taken from him” — Arius’ eyes flicked to mine in accusation — “by my mother, Hera,” Caelus drawled, letting the words stretch with deliberate emphasis.
“She pierced his heart with a dagger before doing the same to mine.”
The Strathos King’s forehead wrinkled in evident confusion but he refrained from asking any further questions.
So, they can be trained.
Vel responded with nothing more than a drakonian snort.
“Take a seat. Your warriors may wait amongst the flowers,” Caelus instructed, indicating the abundant gardens behind the pavilion, in which the priestesses obviously took great pride in maintaining.
Arius dipped into the shallowest of bows and strode off to claim his seat.
He faltered momentarily upon realising what the chairs were made of, but when his hand tentatively grasped something of solid substance, he dropped into it, sprawled in a way that only a man can, and sent a curious glance my way.
His warriors, on the other hand, seemed strangely at home within the flowers. One bent to sniff them, another tore one from its stem and plucked the petals, and a third began twining them into a crown.
“I guess they don’t have calendula in the desert,” I remarked with a small smile.
Caelus twisted just in time to see the curiously sweet juxtaposition, huffing a short laugh. “I guess not.”
Two rowboats were almost upon us now, racing each other for the honour of docking first. Both contained women dressed in varying finery, eyeing each other with competitive glee across the waves.
“Ten drachma on the left one.” I grinned as Caelus’ snow-coloured brows climbed his forehead.
He shook his head and crossed his arms, chuckling. “I might be Charon’s brother in blood, but you’re certainly his sibling in spirit. You’re on.” He winked a glowing eye as thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Hey, no cheating! Let’s see what they’ve got on their own.”
The thunder relented as he snorted. “Better get your purse ready, my love.”
“Better get your tissues, Golden.”
The boats remained neck and neck, their rowers urged on by their regal passengers. The sailors in each rose to the occasion, plunging their oars into the deep blue water, laughing at each other and the situation in which they’d unwittingly found themselves.
Then, one boat inched ahead. The representative sat alone, golden hair twisted neatly away from her face as she scowled in fierce concentration — as though her focus alone could see them through, surpassing the other boat bearing two bejewelled women.
Her hands clenched around the edge of the slat of timber she sat upon, her eyes glued to the dock on which we stood.
She did not even dare to look up, and it was to her advantage.
Her boat edged further and further away from the other, and within a minute, the rowers of the second slowed their arduous pace, recognising the fact that they could not keep up now.
Their royal representatives accepted defeat with a grin — tinkling laughter carried across the waves like sprites dancing atop it.
The first boat docked without fanfare. The golden-haired woman picked up her skirts and grasped the hand of a waiting sailor. She disembarked — still without so much as a glance our way — and called out to the waiting party.
“Better luck next time, Idalia!”
The older of the two women cackled in response.
“And you should have known better than to race me, Kalli.”
The younger of the two snorted. “You’re right, I really should have.”
Turning smugly, she immediately froze as though stopped by an invisible wall, taking in Caelus and I for the first time.
Her almond-shaped eyes went wide, allowing us a clear look at their bewitching scope of colours — one entirely blue and one entirely brown.
She looked as though she had one foot in the forest and the other in the skies — born of both and yet neither — and my curiosity was immediately piqued.
The woman dipped into an elegant curtsy. “Forgive me. I am Princess Aelia of Dromaris — though you’re welcome to drop the title, it chafes.” Her strange eyes twinkled with mischief.
I like her.
You like every strong, roguish woman you come across, Caelus sent back.
Of course I do.
Caelus rolled his eyes in jest. “This is Queen Nyssa, ruler of—”
“Of all the realms, I know,” Aelia cut in. She blinked quickly, as if only just realising who she’d deigned to speak over. “My apologies, Lord Caelus. It’s just that Dromaris is well aware of the current state of the realms.”
“You’ve had a visitor of the godly variety,” I surmised.
Aelia nodded. “Indeed we have,” she said with a grimace. “The lord Hermes is a guest at the Palace of Telaris as we speak, and so, my father has sent me in his stead.”
I shared a look with Caelus, neither of us needing to verbalise the concern we felt knowing that the god of thieves had elected to say in Ephemeron — and what deals he may be making to ascertain the safety of his people.
“Your father is King Oeneus?”
“Yes, your grace.”
“If you’re allowed to drop your titles, then so am I. Call me Nyssa.” I leaned in to whisper, “I abhor them too.”
Aelia grinned, flashing perfect teeth in a smile that no doubt captured the hearts of all the mortal men surrounding her.
“Well, you don’t have to call me Lord, either—” Caelus attempted.
“Nope! You missed your chance to correct it, Lord Caelus,” I teased.
“But—”
“It is as it should be, Lord Caelus,” Aelia intoned with an air of grace and sophistication, dipping her chin in deference, but not before shooting me a quick wink.
My lips twitched, curling up at one corner as I fought to rein in an Aphrodite-worthy cackle.
While we’d been speaking, Aelia’s boat had disembarked, leaving five tall, lean men behind her as her guard.
The second boat docked in its place, allowing the other two women to climb out.
Their movements were lithe and suggestive; their bodies scantily clad, covering only the most intimate parts of themselves.
Both women ducked their heads, the younger of the two also dropping into an elegant curtsy.
Aelia’s guard were visibly enthralled, staring at the pair with mouths so wide I could see their tonsils.
“Gentlemen,” I snapped. “You may join Arius’ men in the garden.
I think you’ll find there are plenty of pretty things to gawk at over there.
Your princess will be safe enough with us for the time being — so long as she doesn’t sit next to King Arius,” I muttered the last part, secretly delighted to coax another soft snort out of the princess in question.
The men looked to her for guidance, quaking in their boots when I lifted a solitary black brow in question. Without waiting any longer, all five scurried over to join Arius’ infinitely more fearsome warriors.
Or, at least, that’s what I thought prior to glancing over and witnessing a crown of daisies on one of their heads.
“You may also go,” the older of the two women instructed in a smooth, curiously accented tone. The six who had accompanied them marched off as I studied the women.
Both had bronzed skin that spoke of sunlit days and warm evenings. They bore the same round, cerulean eyes and deep brown hair twisted into braids down their backs. The younger of the two gazed eagerly back, her skin untouched by time, while the other wore her years with pride.
“I am Queen Idalia of Cytheros,” she said, rolling the ‘r,’ “And this is my daughter, Kallista.”
“Welcome to the Isle. I’m sure Aphrodite will be thrilled you made it safely,” I murmured, indicating the blonde, buxom goddess cackling at something Aros said as he leaned against the back of her chair.
“The goddess is here?” Queen Idalia asked, the creases around her eyes softening as she located her patron goddess.
“It has been quite some time since I have seen her. Thank you. I shall go join them. Come, Kallista. Oh what a joy it shall be to introduce you.” She clapped her hands, her excitement palpable.
I was confident we would have allies in Cytheros, at least.
“I haven’t seen Idalia so happy in years,” Aelia commented, watching them leave.
Kallista beckoned to her, and with another quick dip of her head, Aelia joined them.
“What are you thinking?” Caelus asked quietly.
I shot him a wry look. “You, of all people, must know what I’m thinking.”
“There is a little room for doubt,” he answered with a raised brow. “Your mind is closed off to me, but your emotions are… wicked.”
I let them play upon my lips. “I was just thinking about how much of a commotion there will be amongst the mortals when Velira deigns to drop by.”
Prepare yourselves, the dragon in question purred. I shall keep an eye on the remaining boats and then make my grand entrance.
I snorted at her coquetry and relayed the message to my storm-wielder.
“You’re as bad as each other,” he laughed.
“We could be worse.”
Much worse, she agreed.