33. Warning Signs
33
Warning Signs
Calliste
“Easy.” Melitta’s warm voice guided her back into the late afternoon.
For a few moments, Calliste luxuriated in the softness of the bed, but then she tensed. “The prince?”
Melitta’s dimples showed. “Still asleep. No temperature.”
“Gaiane told you?” Calliste slacked back.
“No. The king was here not so long ago.”
Calliste pulled herself up to sit, trying to appear neutral. “Oh?”
“He didn’t come into the room,” Melitta reassured her. “Just told me from the door. He was between the meetings at the Assembly, I believe.” She turned to bring a tray of food, saying, “Brought you snacks for now. I didn’t want your dinner to get cold.”
Calliste glanced down at the assortment of sliced cucumbers, fried cheese, olives, roasted tomato wedges glistening with olive oil, and a selection of small sausages that smelled of fennel and orange. “Spoiling me?”
“Mom is spoiling you.” Melitta chuckled. The sun caught in her neatly swept back hair, tied by strings of pearls. Glossy, defined curls fell across her chest, contrasting against her creamy robe, resembling faded, old gold.
“You’re always unfailingly glamorous,” Calliste said after staring for a moment.
“You’re always unfailingly kind.” Melitta set down the tray on Calliste’s lap. “But honestly, I don’t know what else to do for someone who’s doing what you’re doing. There’s no choice but to spoil you.”
Smiling, Calliste nibbled on a tomato and helped herself to some cheese and olives before glancing at the windows framing the distant sky, grateful for the warm day after the cold darkness of the Underworld.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Calliste.” Melitta’s quiet words caught her off guard. “You’re not only helping the prince, but also the king.”
“Why do you think so?” She kept her face neutral.
“Because you’re proving him right.” Melitta chuckled, her eyes glittering. “You wouldn’t believe the uproar in the Assembly when they realized he had disappeared from the capital overnight and Xanthos would be leading all of the meetings. They were foaming at the mouth. But I knew why he wouldn’t tell them.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to show them that he answers to no one. Three quarters of the Assembly is made up of aristocratic Houses, and most of them believe that their power and influence can dictate what he does.”
“So… he’s not on good terms with the aristocracy?”
“Not at all. He’s forward-thinking, and the majority of the Houses… are not, so they often clash at the Assembly. I’ll never forget that session when he decreed that arranged marriages would be outlawed. It was—”
“What?” Calliste thought she misheard. “What did you say? Since when? ”
Melitta stared at her with an open mouth. “It was shortly after my nineteenth birthday… five years ago.”
“And it’s… the law?”
“Of course it is.” Melitta replied slowly. “And he didn’t stop there—he granted unmarried women the right to seek respectable employment. You didn’t know that?”
Calliste’s eyes stung. “No. I… I lived in a very isolated place for the last nine years.”
“Oh.” Melitta leaned back, understanding plain on her face. “I see. Yes, that session was spectacular, and made me go to every other open session to see him. He made so many amendments to the old laws. For instance, I can now go to the Anthemousian Grand Library unchaperoned and read what was previously only accessible to men.”
Calliste swallowed.
Her eyes lit up with mischief. “He never budges. But times have changed, and he’ll have to be more careful with them.”
“Times have changed—how?”
She sighed. “They’ve been clamoring for him to re-marry for a long time, saying that he needs a spare. Certain Houses are becoming even more resolute in pressing it, now ruthlessly using the prince’s condition as justification.”
Calliste put a piece of roasted cheese in her mouth and chewed, schooling her face to look neutral, despite the knot tightening in her stomach.
Melita’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you with that—”
“It’s fine.” Calliste replied quietly. “How is it possible that the prince’s condition is public knowledge?”
“Solon.” Melitta’s voice hardened. “I can understand grieving for his beloved daughter, but he’s trying to turn the late queen into a goddess so everyone worships her. The king doesn’t allow him to see the prince unless he’s sober, which means that he hasn’t seen his grandson for a long time. When the prince fell asleep, Solon found out as soon as the king called in Panakeios and spread the information through the court.”
“I see.” Calliste sighed. “Let me have a bath.”
***
The king had not come to his son’s chamber that evening.
The moonlight streamed through the window onto the floor where she stood, gazing at the prince.
She gently touched his forehead.
Warmer. Let’s see what Hypnos says.
Dwelling on Melitta’s words was futile, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the man who had defied tradition of arranged marriages only to find himself facing a marriage for the sake of the greater good.
Is this the disruption Hypnos told me about?
A shadow blotted out the moonlight, deepening and sprouting with wings.
“Evening, Calliste.” His wings shimmered blue where the moonlight touched it. The crown of poppies bled crimson into the darkness.
She stroked the prince’s forehead. “His temperature… seems slightly higher.”
“Straight to the point?” Hypnos let out a quiet snort. “Then we need to investigate.” He moved closer to her side, filling the air with the familiar scent of green apples.
She couldn’t help but ask. “If the king is being pressured into another marriage”—she pushed aside the bitter feeling in her chest—“and he agrees to it to secure his line with another son, how does it affect his firstborn’s destiny?”
Hypnos studied her for a moment. “The king won’t have another son.”
She froze. “What do you mean?”
“He may remarry, but the Fates won’t allow him another son.” Hypnos’ silver eyes rested briefly on the boy. “Prince Kalias was marked by the Fates for greatness. His fate cannot be re-woven—because he alone will alter the fate of the kingdom.”
The knot in her stomach tightened. “So if the king agrees to remarry, it would be in vain?”
Hypnos watched her for a moment. “Why do you care if he remarries or not?”
“I don’t.”
“You do, but for all the wrong reasons,” he countered calmly, turning her to face him. “You’re the chosen Head Priestess of your order. Do not let any temptations cloud your judgment. We’ve worked too hard for that.”
It was hard to look away from his shrewd eyes, especially when they burned with this kind of intensity. “We?”
“You’ve been summoning me for years. And I’ve been answering, even though I could never reveal myself to you.”
“Why not?”
“Only the chosen can see the immortals. This”—he gently tapped his finger against her pendant—“makes you chosen. So don’t throw it away.”
“I’m not, I’m just—”
“Tempted,” he said with a hint of disapproval. “I suppose it’s only natural for a mortal to be drawn to someone as powerful as the king.” There was still an undercurrent of resentment in his voice. “But do not forget your true path.”
She hid her complicated emotions behind a bland expression. “I won’t.”
“Good. Now, let us investigate. Tonight, I’ll take you to the Underworld from here so you don’t have to use your powers to cross realms.” His silver eyes glinted in the shadows. “I also want to show you my favorite view of the Underworld… when you’re ready.”
“What would you like me to do?”
“Hold on to me.” His grasp was firm as he pulled her to him before lifting her up. “Close your eyes.”
There it was again, the familiar tingle of crossing over to another dimension. The rush of air told her they were flying, and fast. She held on tightly.
“Now,” Hypnos said, at length. “Take a look.”
She did.
They were soaring above the Everlasting Enclave, a seemingly endless forest of shimmering trees. Even from this height, it seemed boundless, stretching toward the silvery riverbank of Styx, with the border river of the Underworld running dark like lead.
Hypnos slowed down, the beat of his wings spreading the scent of green apples. “Like it?”
She met his eyes from up close. “Very much so.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he descended to land on one of the paths, gently setting her down on solid ground.
She smiled her thanks, inhaling the luminous quietude like in the deepest of dreams. There was no breeze to stir the leaves and branches, and yet they continuously whispered as they sprouted, each cradling light behind their foliage. “The peace in here,” she said. “I could forget everything and stay here forever.”
“Here?” He scrutinized her, his stance relaxed, his wings catching the light around them. He always seemed at ease—perhaps it was due to his innate power of the god who ruled over dreams. “There are more breath-taking places in the Underworld. Perhaps I’ll show you one day.”
“Which places?”
“Elysium, the jewel of the Underworld. Asphodel Fields, which is the endless expanse of meadows and lands around Hades’ palace—to mention only two. Our realm is boundless like the ocean, and holds as many mysteries.”
“Here,” she said quietly, watching with fascination. “I like it here. When the Shades arrive here to collect their essence… how long does it take?”
“As long as it needs to take.” Hypnos shrugged. “It could be one mortal season, or twenty of them. It truly doesn’t matter. It’s the only opportunity for mortals to watch their lives from a divine perspective, so they can take as long as they like to reflect on their choices. And when they feel ready, they set out to cross Styx.”
She looked around again, committing the sight to memory. Then, she thought of one soul that she hoped had found peace. “What about Myrto? Did Charon accept the coin?”
Hypnos reached out for her pendant, tilting it in his fingers. “You possess extraordinary powers that are restricted to most mortals. If you had taken your healer’s oath, you wouldn’t be able to use them in the manner that you do now.”
“What do you mean?” She squinted at him, confused by the answer.
“Your temple was built upon the wellspring of Epione’s power, which grew stronger as generations of sisters bound their healing gift to those grounds in exchange for receiving access to it. This”—he dropped his gaze to her emerald—“and anything else blessed by your goddess, is what allows you to harness this divine energy, even though you’re away from the sacred grounds. What makes this energy unique is its blend of both divine and mortal energies from your order.”
Her jaw slacked. “You’re not saying that… I’m depleting my order?”
“You cannot deplete it. But don’t waste this energy.”
“Are you talking about that coin?”
“You cannot save everyone, Calliste. As you know. And there isn’t much you can do for the Condemned.” His tone turned colder.
“But you said I could heal her. I believed you.”
“Heal her physically, yes. But you cannot heal her fate. Myrto… wasn’t a good woman.”
“What happened to her?”
“In the Tartarus, there is a cliff that leads to the Void.” He lowered his hand and let the pendant rest against her heart. “It devours anything that falls into it.”
She shuddered. “Devours?”
“Annihilates.”
Her chest stung. “So there’s no redemption?”
“Not for her. We gave people the laws, Calliste.” His voice was still cool. “They’re born with conscience and the ability to tell right from wrong.”
“What did she do? She said her body was left unburied.”
Hypnos’ eyes glinted. “Why do you fight for her?”
“It looks like she was already punished for her crimes in our realm.” She raised her chin. “If the gods do the same, it doesn’t sound like justice to me.”
“You sound like your king. He also thinks that we are unjust.”
Her cheeks flamed. “This only proves him right.”
“Hmmm…” He watched her for a moment, his head tilted at her, a smile clinging to his lips. “That fire in you. I’ve always quietly admired it.”
To meet his gaze was to be mesmerized—so she avoided it. “Why do you make it about me? It’s about basic justice.”
In a slow gesture, he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “We are of the same opinion, Calliste,” he said softly. “You believe that everything happens for a reason. I know it.”
“Hypnos—”
“Shh.” His finger pressed against her lips. “Remember your year of silence?”
She nodded slowly.
“I’d been watching you then, too. What did it teach you, first and foremost?”
“To listen.”
“So.” Dream cupped her face and tilted it up to meet his silvery gaze. “Are you listening now? I don’t question the Fates, Calliste. They know more about the destinies than any of us, and simply ensure that they are fulfilled. You have no way of knowing how the thread of Myrto’s life was woven into their tapestry or what it meant. But I don’t want you to think that I was cruel for destroying her, or that it was my wish.”
“But…”
“It’s not really about her, is it?” His hands were gently unyielding. “You’re worried about the mistakes you’ve made and whether you’ve done enough to make up for them.”
Fear flared in her chest. “Perhaps. I’d like to have hope.”
He leaned in closer. “Then stay true to me.” The usual serenity in his eyes faltered for a moment before he released her. “Come. Let’s see what awaits us at the prince’s tree.”
***
From afar, the tree glittered red.
“Let’s get closer.” Hypnos hurried on.
Soon, they both stared at red ivy wrapped around the tree trunk, its glowing scarlet leaves covering it completely.
“It looks like… the Condemned,” she said after a moment’s silence. “But transformed.”
“Into a parasitic plant,” Hypnos added.
Holding her breath, she came close enough to touch it, her muscles tensing as she waited for the ivy to attack her.
But nothing happened.
Up close, it glowed brighter, made of the same substance as the phantoms, its flexible, translucent tissue reminiscent of a jellyfish.
This looks… familiar. Almost like her seeing the spectral image of the body, with the disease showing as red. If only I could find an unaffected part…
She noticed the exposed root at her feet that was free of the red ivy. She knelt down, channeled some energy into her hands, and let it unwind in glowing, green tendrils that curled around the healthy part of the tree.
But then, as her energy reached the point where it met the red ivy, its retaliation was swift and punishing—a jagged, abrupt buzz that shot underneath her skin, making her teeth chatter against each other. Her hands stiffened with pain against the backlash of the hostile energy. She stopped fighting it, waiting for the unpleasant reaction to fade away.
“What is it?” Hypnos knelt beside her.
“I tried healing, but my energy clashed with another, hostile one.”
“It’s fighting back. Did it hurt?”
“Yes. I can’t fight it directly.” Rubbing her stiff hands, Calliste studied the red ivy. “It’s coiling around most of the tree, and it’s closer to the crown. Do you think its position matters?”
Hypnos shook his head. “It may have changed the form, but it’s still a power that keeps the prince asleep and smothers his destiny. Like a weed.”
“Huh.” She met his eyes.
He tilted his head, amused. “Looks like you’re on to weeding now.”
“Oddly enough, this is similar to my healing practices,” she murmured, allowing Epione’s energy to flow from her hands once again. It formed a cocoon spooling around the section of the root where she knelt. “If I anchor my healing energy first… maybe here, and fortify it, this will act like a shield against the direct attack. But at the same time, it will be my energy reserve. With luck, I’ll be able to come back to it tomorrow night and continue filling it until there’s enough in it for me to start the purification process.”
“Ah, of course,” Dream said under his breath. “I’ve seen you doing it before.”
She smiled. “That’s what I do.”
“Huh. I feel almost redundant,” he chuckled.
“Yes,” she retorted. “It’s a shame I have to do everything myself.”
“Straight in the heart.” He pressed his hand against his chest. “Give me some credit. I carried you here.”
“Thank you for your assistance, O Lord of Dreams.” Her mouth quirked, but it may have been the relief of finally dealing with something she understood. With his gaze on her, she focused on the energy flowing to the root of the tree, forming a cocoon of energy and making sure the flow was steady and slow.
Warm hope spread through her chest as it sprouted. For an unquantifiable amount of time, she focused on fortifying it with complex layers of energy to ensure that it had everything to withstand the attack and store her power for the next time.
She was so absorbed in her task that the sudden, sharp growl in her ear sent her heart racing and made her pause.
Get out of here.
She stilled, her breath cut short.
“Calliste?” Hypnos shifted closer.
Get out of here while you can, the low, female voice continued. He isn’t entirely honest with you. You’re nothing but a pawn in the game of immortals. If you try to defy me, you’ll die.
A stab of vicious energy pierced her lungs, making them seize. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, but quickly channeled her own power against the one holding her in its grip and her lungs relaxed. She gasped for air, her hands numb and shaking, her breathing ragged. She let her energy ebb and realized her exhaustion.
Hypnos knelt beside her. “What happened?”
She looked up at him, trying to catch her breath. “It’s been too much.”
He glanced up the tree. “If you’ve done all that you can for tonight, we can continue tomorrow. Let me take you back now.”