69. In Which the Saving of One is the Severing of Another
Chapter 69
In Which the Saving of One is the Severing of Another
S omething moved beside her. Her body felt it long before she opened her eyes. Soft hands brushed the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. They patted her hand, pulling. Ellie opened one sleepy eye and was met with swirling gold flecks in a deep-brown abyss. She blinked. A hand went across her lips softly, timidly. Ellie jerked her head back, but the face followed. Words tumbled around her, their meanings incomprehensible. They splashed onto the floor, creating sounds that crashed and broke around her. Two hands grabbed her own and squeezed, pulling her towards the edge and whispered words. Ellie struggled to pull her hands away, only to have them gripped once more.
She screamed.
Evander leapt from the bed beside her, his wings fluttering overhead, brushing her forehead as he charged the eyes that stared and hands that grabbed. Wrestling the figure into a dark corner, he slammed something against the wardrobe door. Ellie clutched the sheet closer.
“Gods, Ellie, it’s me. It’s me.”
She peered into the dark corner.
“Ellie.” Callassa’s voice strained under Evander’s weight. The last bit of sleep floated like fog from her mind.
“Callassa?” she whispered.
Scrambling off the bed and throwing on a robe, she cinched it as she rushed to the corner where he had her pinned. His forearm was against her shoulders. Ellie ducked around his outstretched wing, taking in the sight. Evander, ever her protector, his face hardened and creased from sleep, the muscles along his broad back and shoulders taut, waiting to strike, as the finer muscles in his forearm strained against Callassa’s shoulders.
“It’s just me, Ellie,” she croaked, her eyes wide, her hand gripping his forearm.
Ellie touched his arm. “It’s Callassa, Evander.”
“Exactly,” he snapped. “Where’s Liam?”
Eyeing her for a moment, his blue-green meeting Ellie’s gray in a silent competition of wills. She arched an eyebrow, and he sighed, then let go. Callassa leaned back against the wardrobe for a second, her head thumped against the wood. A smirk crossed her lips as she eyed the two of them.
“No wonder you were dead asleep. If I had ridden that last night, I’d be unable to walk today.” Her eyes flickered lower and then back up, mischief bouncing in them.
Quickly, Ellie realized that in his rush to save her from certain danger, Evander had forgotten to wrap anything around himself. He stood there in all his beautiful, manly glory for both of them to admire.
“Well done.” Callassa looked at Evander and nodded, impressed.
“What do you want, Callassa?” he said through clenched teeth as his cheeks pinked. Ellie threw him a floral shawl to cover himself, but he gave her a strange look and turned his hip, unsuccessful at blocking Callassa’s view of his morning excitement.
“Ellie,” his usual high-brow timbre wavering, “I only have one arm.”
He held the shawl, and she bit into her tongue to keep from laughing. In seconds, she helped him cover his exposed gloriousness. Callassa walked past him, but Evander slid over, blocking her escape.
“Seriously?” Ellie gave him a pointed look and twisted her lips.
Snorting through his nose, he puffed out his chest. “What are you doing here? Where’s Liam?” He sounded intimidating and would have been, had it not been for a delicate shawl with roses and peonies wrapped around his man bits.
Shaking her head, Ellie maneuvered around his imposing stance. The annoyance muscle in his jaw twitched, unhappy about the intrusion. Leading Callassa over to the chair, she motioned for him to stoke the fire that had almost burned itself out overnight. Evander threw a log on, poking it, breathing oxygen into the embers.
Ellie turned toward her friend and gasped, covering her mouth. “What the hell happened to you?” Tenderly, Ellie reached for Callassa’s bruised face and split lip, but she jerked her head away.
“This is what happens when you disobey a queen,” she gritted out.
Her movements were stiff. In the low morning light, she looked pale against the leather chair. Her cheeks appeared sunken, as if she hadn’t eaten. Bruises, slashes, and burns crossed her arms in varying degrees of healing. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, one of them swollen. She looked like hell. Ellie walked away and returned with water. Callassa shifted in her seat, leaning forward, Ellie gasped. Marks, the same as Valerius, slashed across her back and wings.
“She did this to you?”
Callassa didn’t respond; she didn’t have to.
“Where’s Liam?” Evander asked, his demand softer as he stared at her injuries.
“Liam traded his life for mine.” She glared at Evander, her words coming out in a hiss, her anger barely contained. “Your deartháir is now at the mercy of that sadistic bitch, after you abandoned him.”
Kneeling before her, Ellie patted Callassa’s hand, her expression full of worry.
“They didn’t abandon him; they were forced to leave by Maximus. The men have been trying to find him, calling to him, but he broke their bond.”
Callassa hid her emotions behind a wall of anger. “Is that true?”
“If you didn’t think we cared, why did you come to us?” Evander challenged.
“I was hoping I was wrong. I’m glad I am.”
Twenty minutes later, the four of them were sitting in the study. Evander had changed into something more warrior-like and less floral skirting his hips. Camulos was standing behind Callassa, worry marring his features, his hand on her shoulder. Ellie was learning just by observing Camulos how much he cared for all of them. He was like a protective uncle. When he saw Callassa, he gasped and rushed to her, holding her hands, and ordered Evander’s small army of servants about. They were the women who loved his men, and he’d be damned if anything happened to them.
“How did Liam escape Valerius?” Cam asked as he shared yet another worried look with Evander.
Callassa shook her head, sipping water as if she hadn’t had a drop in days.
“I don’t know, but it can’t be good. I can’t worry about that now, though. He traded places with me, and I couldn’t stop him. I was too weak to fight back. He needs you.” She was looking at her glass as she whispered. “I need help.”
“How will we breach Tartarus, Cam? Your powers are extraordinary, but even you have limits,” Evander asked beside the fireplace. His study was minuscule compared to Max’s, but homey. Ellie noticed that, like the study in his portion of Max’s house, this one also had a rolling ladder along a wall of books. This elevated the decor substantially in Ellie’s eyes.
“I have been in contact with Hades. I believe I have a way in.”
Evander nodded. “Then I suppose we need to gather weapons.” He looked gravely at Ellie. She had put on her battle dress; ready should they decide to go. She was nodding her head in agreement.
“Not you.” He lifted an eyebrow, asking her to challenge him.
“I’m going.”
“Like hell you are.” He squared off, ready for her arguments. “Your blood unlocks her cage, Ellie. I won’t put you in a position where you help that evil queen escape. No, you’ll stay here and look after Callassa.”
Callassa screamed, shaking as she crumpled and fell out of the chair. She lay on the ground in the fetal position, her skin instantly slick with sweat. Clutching her arm, a welt emerged, angry and red. Camulos knelt beside her, taking her hand and rubbing it.
“Aerelia,” Callassa hissed between clenched teeth. “She’s torturing him again.” A high-pitched screech tore from her.
The entire house shook with her cry, sending Ellie to her side. Covering her ears, she crouched beside her, trying not to touch her but wanting to offer comfort. Camulos looked at Evander.
“We’ll need swords and armor, Evander. I’ll be damned if I let Liam die at that bitch’s hands.” Glancing at Ellie, he nodded. “You are strong enough, you’re coming. We need you.”
“Absolutely not,” Evander roared. “I’ll not put her in a position where I can’t protect her, Cam. There are only two of us.”
“We need Ellie,” he insisted. “And Callassa, if she thinks she can return.” He motioned to the crumpled siren on the blue carpet with concern. “They worked together in Valerius’ throne room. I believe they can do so again. Their magic can link, protecting each other. Ellie is strong and Callassa powerful. But together, they are a force to be reckoned with. One that will bring Aerelia down.”
“I can’t just wait around here, Evander. Liam needs us, all of us,” she said more confidently than she felt.
He was shaking his head vehemently against everything they were saying. And if she were honest, Ellie didn’t know if she could even fight Aerelia. She wasn’t Valerius. Aerelia wouldn’t simply cage her and watch her descend into madness. No, the Dark Oracle earned her name, and she wouldn’t hold back if it came down to it.
Callassa whimpered from the floor and shook her head. “I’m going. My mate needs me,” she rasped.
Leaning down, Ellie whispered in Callassa’s ear. “Can you make him hear your thoughts like you did when you sent your memories into my head?”
She nodded.
“Tell him to hold on. Tell Liam we’re coming for him. His deartháir is coming. Tell him not to let the darkness win.”
The dark enveloped him. He hadn’t turned on any lights, had barely put logs on the fire. He relished the dark, giving in to the blackness as it covered his soul. Hearing her rustle, he swirled the dark amber liquid in the bottom of his glass. For days, he had lived on little else.
“Come to bed, Maximus,” Pheridones called. He turned his head but didn’t move. “You did what you had to do. It’s done now; come to bed.”
He glanced up at her, glossy eyes, swimming in drink. “Is it? Is this what I had to do?”
Pheridones sighed and sat up. “Yes. This was always the way it was supposed to go. You will be known as an influential leader. When Troy becomes the hero they were always meant to be, men will herald you as a brave and strategic commander. The goal was always to bring Pandora back, to restore balance to this realm. You will see. This plan is a good one. Now, come to bed.”
“You lied, Pheridones. You said it was Callassa that would pay. It was the siren that needed to suffer. You never once told me one of my men were siren. Or that Pegones the Centaur was working with Aerelia. I didn’t know.” He swirled his drink again. “I didn’t know.”
“You were only told what was necessary. You are on a path to greatness, Maximus. Come to bed.”
Maximus sighed, defeated. He hadn’t wanted this. He hadn’t wanted the destruction of his company, the utter betrayal of his friend. Moving the chess pieces along the board had been simple initially, but he suddenly felt like he missed a step.
“I can’t Pheri. The look on Liam’s face haunts me.” He swirled the liquid, downed it, and refilled his glass.
“Pandora will come back, Maximus, you’ll see. Aerelia needed to be released. She has what we require. I am putting you in the position to lead a great army. This is what you said you wanted.”
“I know.”
“The destroyer and the savior had to find each other for the balance to be restored. My sisters and I have been waiting for centuries. This was the fastest way to fulfill the prophecy and bring Pandora back so Troy could rise.”
“I know that too,” Maximus said to his drink.
“I did this all for you, because I love you. Now, leave your brooding for another day, Maximus, and come to bed. Let me make you happy for a little while.”
An inaudible sigh escaped him, and he drank the last of the amber liquid. Rising, he stumbled toward her, looking to escape the pain of his treachery.