Chapter 5 Weaveline
Weaveline
Medea
The frantic shouting of the bidders had finally faded into a heavy, ringing silence. I sat on a velvet-cushioned basalt bench inside a secluded sanctuary room beneath the amphitheater, staring down at my hands. Fifty thousand death crystals. A staggering fortune had just secured my survival.
I had spent my entire life locked in the damp, suffocating hold of Jason’s ship, treated as a walking plague.
Whenever he dragged me onto the deck, it was to press my hands against a kneeling captive’s face.
I had watched flesh rot and turn to ash, the screams echoing in my ears long after the bodies dissolved.
I carried the guilt of a hundred forced executions in my bones.
Up there, on the polished obsidian stage, that same plague had incited a riot of raw desire.
The monsters of Asphodelia had roared for me.
They had thrown fortunes at my feet, begging for the very touch that haunted my nightmares.
They wanted me to unweave them, to grant them the beautiful death their city worshiped.
The sheer, overwhelming whiplash of it left my chest tight and aching.
Or maybe that wasn’t it at all. Maybe it was simply the fact that Aion hadn’t been there, among them.
At the end of the day, Asphodelia’s bride market was just that. Another bride market. A place that could secure the right monster groom for a human bride. But the man I’d wanted for myself was simply out of my reach.
The heavy iron door swung inward, jerking me from my thoughts. I braced my shoulders, expecting the sphinx or Skaros to enter. We had an agreement, but that didn’t mean I looked forward to what came next.
Instead, Daphne stepped into the dim, flickering light of the braziers. She crossed the room and sat close beside me on the bench.
Just days ago, my panicked touch had withered her hand down to the bone. But it didn’t seem to matter. She didn’t hesitate or shrink away now. “Asphodelia can be cruel to those who are different,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be a home.”
I didn’t know the full extent of her story.
Just bits and pieces of what Aion had told me.
She’d stood on that stage, just like I had, but without being death-touched at all.
She’d paid with her life for the un. But she had chosen to come back, for her mate’s sake.
I didn’t know if I had that type of courage in me.
“Where am I supposed to go from here, Daphne? I can’t make heads or tails of what is happening.”
Daphne reached out, resting her fingers gently on the stone beside my knee. “You belong to Aion, Medea. The city sees the arrangement, naturally. But Aion isn’t going anywhere.”
I pulled my knees tight against my chest, shivering despite the ambient heat of the braziers.
“Out there… the market’s hunger felt so real to me.
They wanted my touch to unravel them. They begged for the end, Daphne.
I have spent my whole life terrified of my own skin, and they cheered for the curse it carried. ”
Daphne followed my gaze toward the heavy door. “They have lived far too long without fear. They mistake your lifelong burden for a passing thrill.” She turned her attention back to me, the dim firelight catching the silver woven through her hair. “Aion understands you. He won’t fail you. Not ever.”
“I know that,” I answered. “I just feel… I feel like I might have failed him.”
“You could never,” Daphne whispered. “You are a gift. You are his mate. Don’t ever forget that.”
I rubbed my arms, trying to ward off a sudden chill. “But what about Skaros? He just paid an empire’s ransom for a woman he cannot even touch. Why?”
“Skaros is a good man,” Daphne offered softly. “I don’t know him very well, but every time we’ve spoken, he’s been nothing but kind. He wouldn’t harm you. He is doing this for Aion. For both of you.”
I let out a breathless, watery laugh, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”
The sharp scrape of claws against stone echoed down the corridor, shattering our quiet privacy. Phix filled the arched doorway. The auctioneer was no less imposing here than she’d been on the stage. Her dark eyes were fixed entirely on me, and she reminded me of Jason a little too much for comfort.
Daphne rose smoothly from the bench. She turned back to me and gave my shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze. She ignored the slight, immediate withering at her fingertips as her woven flesh touched me. “Remember, Medea. You have a sister here, too. No matter what.”
With one last respectful bow to Phix, Daphne slid out of the room. Just like that, Phix and I were left alone.
“You seem terrified, child. Do you think I’ll eat you?”
“I think Asphodelia has already consumed my last dream,” I replied. I smoothed the iridescent fabric of my robes and stood, lifting my chin. “But it wouldn’t be the first time I felt hopeless. Where is Skaros?”
“There’s no need for you two to meet here,” Phix replied. “Follow me. This subterranean air reeks of desperate immortals.”
We climbed in silence through the winding, damp foundations until we breached the surface. The perpetual silver-blue twilight of Asphodelia washed over me. The air was freezing and beautifully clean against my flushed skin.
Phix paused on a broad terrace overlooking the sprawling lower city. Lowering her massive golden shoulders, she crouched patiently until her broad back was level with my chest.
“Climb on.”
I stared at the heavy muscle rippling beneath her golden pelt. “You want me to ride you?”
“I do not repeat my offers.” Phix flicked her golden tail against the stone. “Unless you prefer walking the long avenues among the defeated bidders.”
I swung my leg carefully over her broad back. Gripping the thick mane near the base of her neck, I stayed away from the sharp edges of her obsidian wings. Phix lunged upward with terrifying power, launching us into the sky.
I buried my face in her mane as the freezing wind roared past my ears.
When I finally dared to open my eyes, the sheer scale of Asphodelia left me entirely spellbound.
Glowing blue canals carved elegant paths through the stark black marble.
The sprawling, melancholic beauty of the city stretched endlessly below us.
After I had lived for so long in the dark hold of the Argo, the open, endless sky took my breath away.
I was flying freely over a world of monsters.
I wished I could have enjoyed it more.
“Why help us?” I shouted over the rushing wind. “Why orchestrate this massive deception for a human? At Skaros’s expense, no less.”
Phix’s wings beat with a slow, heavy rhythm, holding us perfectly steady in the freezing air. “It is not at his expense, Medea. On the contrary. It is for him.”
“For him?” I repeated. I knew sphinxes loved to speak in riddles, but right then and there, I’d have appreciated a smidgen of clarity.
Thankfully, Phix was feeling generous. “Asphodelia operates on strict woven design, Medea. The Moirae spin the vast majority of citizens from randomly harvested energy.”
She banked sharply to the left, soaring smoothly toward the towering cliffs at the city’s edge.
“Occasionally, individuals hoard the energy themselves. They spend decades gathering the pure essence of the end. They offer it to the Loom for a specific creation. We call this a Weaveline. For you humans… this would be a family.”
A Weaveline? I’d expected anything but that. “You’re talking about parenthood.”
“Quite right. I gathered the death energy for Skaros.” Phix threw the words into the cold air. “I chose the threads myself. I watched the Fates knot his spirit.”
My grip tightened instinctively on her fur. I could fill in the blanks well enough. Skaros, the man who had just bought me for a fortune, was the sphinx’s son.
“Then why… why give him a bride who cannot love him?”
“Because you are what he needs,” Phix replied. “Because he can have no other.”
Before I could get the chance to reply, we descended rapidly toward an ornate dark building. A massive garden bloomed vibrantly at its base, filled with thousands of glowing white asphodels swaying gently in the cold breeze. And Skaros was sitting quietly among the flowers.
The sphinx landed with a heavy, graceful thud. I slid carefully from her back, my legs trembling slightly.
Skaros’s humanoid form appeared entirely relaxed. The ghostly floral light caught the edge of his golden mane. His scorpion tail lay coiled peacefully on the ground behind him. He offered a slow, respectful nod of greeting.
“I trust you are well, Medea,” Skaros said. “The market today was an… unpleasant spectacle.”
An unpleasant spectacle. That was putting it lightly.
But this was Aion’s brother-in-arms, the man who had staked an unimaginable fortune to spare my life.
I would try my best to welcome our relationship, however strange it might be.
“It would have been more unpleasant to go back to Jason. For that, I owe you my thanks.”
Skaros flinched. “You owe me nothing.”
“Medea.” Phix stepped gracefully between us, commanding the space. “You asked me why I agreed to this arrangement. We owe you an answer, and we will provide it.”
Skaros stood, rising to his full height.
It should have scared me, but somehow, it didn’t.
“In Asphodelia, the people of Thanatos don’t need to eat,” he offered.
“They are sustained by pure death energy. By Thanatos’s gift.
But I am different. I am a hunter. I harbor hungers this city cannot satisfy. ”
I searched his amber eyes. They held no malice, only a raw, terrifying vulnerability.
“I crave the taste of flesh.” Skaros dropped his gaze to the path winding through the garden.
“Normally, the Thanatos-blessed take death-touched brides. They find comfort and peace in their mates. But when I look at a human woman, I do not see a mate. I feel an overwhelming hunger. An instinct to consume her.”
“It is my own fault,” Phix said. “An unfortunate inheritance. But it is not something we can change.”
A shiver rushed down my spine. Phix had asked me earlier if I thought she’d eat me. Maybe she had considered it. Maybe she and her son truly wished… to eat people. But at the same time, were they reluctant to do it? How did that work?
“The Moirae are aware of this flaw in my design,” Skaros continued, keeping his voice perfectly level. “They know I can never take a true mate. I would endanger the very person I am supposed to protect. But if the rest of Asphodelia were to find out… I’d have to leave the city.”
Genuine relief softened the fierce lines of his face as he looked back at me. “But you are the perfect lock for my cage.”
“My touch unweaves flesh,” I said, the quiet, brutal brilliance of their plan finally clicking into place.
“If I lost control, I would dissolve before my fangs broke your skin,” Skaros agreed, offering a sad, self-deprecating smile.
“You are the only human I can safely stand beside without fearing my own instincts. My unnatural hunger is completely neutralized by your curse. We are perfectly safe with each other.”
A massive wave of gratitude washed over my tired bones, dispelling the last of my lingering anxiety.
It was as Daphne had said. Skaros was a good man.
He was just trapped by an unexpected curse.
He was offering his name to save his best friend, and in return, he was gaining a bride who kept his deadly secret safe.
We were two anomalies shielding each other from the rigid laws of the city.
“The Moirae recognized the symmetry of it,” Phix added, her obsidian wings rustling softly as she settled onto the path.
“You require a protector utterly immune to temptation. Skaros requires a bride who guards his secret. And Aion simply requires you. Which brings us to now. And to your true groom.”
Just like that, I knew. Phix hadn’t brought me here to meet Skaros. She’d brought me here for Aion.
“Where is he?” I asked, a frantic, soaring anticipation seizing my heart.
“He is inside.” Phix gestured toward the dark stone archway. “As a concession to the nature of the bride market, you will reside in my home. Skaros maintains his den adjacent to mine. No one will look too closely. To the rest of the city, you are a dutiful bride under your husband’s roof.”
Phix stepped aside, clearing the path into the cavernous den. “Go to him, Medea. He has endured enough darkness for one night.”
I broke into a dead sprint. The glowing white asphodels blurred into streaks of light as I left the sphinx and Skaros behind in the garden.
My blood hammered eagerly in my ears, hot and overwhelmingly alive.
And as I rushed blindly across the dark stone threshold, I no longer felt any fear or dread. All I felt was hope.