Chapter 7 The Keres Spire #2
Enyo accepted Megaera’s wisdom with remarkable ease. “Excellent idea, daughter. Phonos, you’ll make sure she’s comfortable, won’t you? Your sisters and I will start working on the preparations for the ceremony.”
As the Keres matriarch guided her daughters out of the family chamber, Phonos and I were left alone. Not for the first time, I wondered what I was even doing here. Did I really belong among the Keres, or were we all fooling ourselves?
For the longest time, Phonos and I just stared at each other, him not even blinking, me still confused. The awkward silence stretched between us, thicker than Elena’s best wool.
“You hate it here,” Phonos murmured at last.
It wasn’t a question. Maybe that was why I needed to answer. “I don’t. You’ve all been very patient and kind. I just...”
I trailed off, and Phonos nodded, as if he understood everything I didn’t dare to say. He extended his hand, not seeming put off by my confession. “I might be able to help with that. Have you seen the city from above?”
His invitation offered an escape from the overwhelming sense of enclosure in the Spire. I bit my lower lip, considering the offer. “I haven’t. Only what I saw from the barge.”
“I mean no offense to Charon, but his barges can’t give you what true flight can,” Phonos said with a low chuckle. “The perspective might help you understand us.”
Wind pulled at my clothing and hair as we stepped back onto the platform, into the open air. Phonos spread his wings to their full impressive span. If he felt any lingering discomfort over his past injury, he didn’t show it. “You won’t regret this, Callista. I promise.”
He pulled me into his arms, drawing me against the solid warmth of his chest. “I won’t let you fall. Trust me.”
Such a simple word, yet it felt impossibly heavy. I nodded anyway and leaned against him. “I’m ready.”
It was a lie, and I knew it the moment we left solid ground.
My stomach lurched as the Spire fell away beneath us with alarming speed.
I would have screamed, the sudden sensation of weightlessness too strong for me to process.
But Phonos’s grip remained steady, secure, his heartbeat strong against my ear. Against all odds, I felt safe.
“The first flight is always overwhelming.” Phonos adjusted his hold on my waist, his firm voice easily carrying over the wind. “Open your eyes when you’re ready.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them. Of course I had. It had been my first and only instinctive defense against the original rush of panic. But I didn’t want to be afraid anymore. I’d been trapped in a circle of fear since the moment I’d grasped the weight of my curse. No longer.
I forced my eyelids open to confront the world below. I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t… perfection. “Gods above.”
The city sprawled across a giant island. Lake Acheron surrounded it completely, stretching toward distant shores. Buildings rose from the darkness in varied shapes, and small glowing dots peppered each structure. The asphodels that gave the city its name.
“Beautiful,” I couldn’t help but croak out.
“It’s nothing compared to you.”
Phonos dipped lower, allowing me better views of distinct districts below.
My gaze caught on a familiar circular structure.
The Agora of Echoes, where the bride market had been held.
Where I had stood on a stage while monsters bid for ownership of me.
Where I’d chosen a future I was supposed to remember, but didn’t.
I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it to Phonos, but I couldn’t help myself. “The bride market... Everything feels so blurry. I can’t make head or tail of what happened.”
The air grew colder as Phonos banked toward Lake Acheron’s eastern shore.
“That’s unusual for Charon’s memory extraction.
” His hold around my waist tightened. “Most people never feel the absence of what they’ve traded.
If you’re this confused, the memories must have been more significant than anyone realized. ”
After everything that had happened, I’d expected him to dismiss my doubts. The fact that he hadn’t, meant the world to me. “You don’t think I’m imagining the emptiness?”
“Of course not, Callista,” Phonos replied. “If it doesn’t improve with time, we’ll find ways to help you. We don’t have to rush into anything.”
We. The simple word eased the tightness behind my ribs and yet somehow made it worse. In Agrion, I’d never thought I’d have a lover, a partner. But now that Phonos was offering it, that he wanted us to be a “we…”
My mind still went back to the strange lupine beast in the Kratos Circle. He’d spoken that word too, hadn’t he?
Once again, I wished I could ask, but I didn’t have the courage. And then, Phonos slowed our flight to a gentle hover, his powerful wingbeats keeping us suspended in the air. We had reached the lake’s heart.
The water below reflected our joined silhouette, a strange creature neither fully human nor Keres flying through the dark skies. “This is as far as we can go without Charon’s ferry.” Phonos gestured toward the distant shores barely visible through the mist. “Only he can cross these waters safely.”
I studied the impenetrable barrier surrounding us, the sense of boundaries and limitations it represented. “This place… It’s not just water, is it?”
Nothing here was really as it seemed, and the lake… Its water didn’t look like anything I’d seen in the Korinos Wilds.
Phonos laughed. “Why am I not surprised that you sensed it? Yes, the lake isn’t actually water.
When the Shift happened, it created this entire pool of death energy.
The only place where creatures like us can thrive.
” His gaze turned distant, almost sad and lost. “The place we are often trapped in.”
Trapped. The word echoed against the jagged wound still in my heart. “It bothers you. The fact that you can’t fly further.”
“It’s not supposed to.” Phonos shrugged. “This is where we belong. But for me… I’ve always been a little different.”
“Different how?” I asked.
Phonos was quiet for a moment, his wingbeats the only sound as he kept us hovering above the water.
When he finally spoke, the shadow of something distant lingered in his voice.
“I’m the only male Keres in the city. Perhaps in all the realms. My family loves me deeply, but they can’t understand what it’s like to be that way. ”
“You feel alone even when surrounded by people who care about you.”
“Yes.” He met my gaze, and his eyes held depths I hadn’t expected. “I thought you might understand that feeling.”
I did understand. Maybe he hadn’t felt the burden of my shame and curse, but the isolation weighed on him just the same.
I wondered… What did that do to a person who lived forever?
“In my village, I was the only woman who couldn’t have children.
Everyone else had their place, their purpose, their future mapped out. I was just... broken.”
Phonos shook his head and held me tighter. “You’re not broken. Your sterility is what makes you death-touched, what brought you here.”
“But I still feel lost.”
“So do I, sometimes,” he confessed. “Maybe we could help each other find what we’re missing.”
The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at me as though I mattered, made something flutter in my chest. Here was someone who understood isolation, who saw value in my brokenness rather than shame. Someone who wanted to build something together rather than simply claim ownership.
“Phonos...” I whispered, not even sure what I meant to say.
He seemed to understand anyway. His free hand came up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing across my skin with reverent gentleness. “Callista.”
The space between us seemed to shrink without either of us moving. My gaze dropped to his lips, full and inviting, and for a moment I wanted nothing more than to close that final distance.
But the moment his head began to lower toward mine, panic flared in my chest. The wrongness, the emptiness, the sense that this wasn’t quite right despite how much I wanted it to be. I turned my face away, breathing hard.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, shame burning my cheeks. “I can’t... not yet.”
His hand fell away from my face immediately, but his other arm remained steady around my waist, keeping me secure in his embrace. “It’s all right.” His voice held no anger, no disappointment, only gentle understanding. “We have all the time in the world.”
I risked a glance at his face, expecting to see frustration or wounded pride. Instead, I found only patience and something that might have been affection.
“I know you’re still adjusting to all of this.” He brushed a strand of hair back from my face with careful fingers. “There’s no need to rush the ceremonies or the claiming. Take whatever time you need to feel at home with my family, with me.”
The tight knot in my chest loosened at his words. “You mean that?”
“I mean it.” His smile was soft, genuine. “You’re worth waiting for, Callista. However long it takes.”
As we hovered there above the dark water, I felt something shift between us. Understanding. Possibility. The beginning of trust.
“Thank you,” I whispered, meaning it more than he could possibly know.
“Always,” he replied, and in that moment, I believed him.
But my heart kept reaching for answers I couldn’t find. That desperate beast who’d fought for me in the circle… His pain had felt more real than anything else in those confused moments. Something essential remained missing, something neither flight nor kindness could restore.
Why did everything beautiful still feel so wrong?