52. Astraea
Chapter fifty-two
Astraea
A low-pitched rumble builds behind me. The sound itself can not only be heard but also felt.
Its vibrations move through the air around me and the earth below—primal and ancient.
The growl itself feels like a physical force.
The embodiment of what I know casts its shadow over us.
Of what has fear bleeding into the air around us.
The manticore.
Ever so slowly, I peel my eyes away from the pirates who still slowly retreat and tilt my head toward where the air is blown out over my face.
My heart is hammering in my chest like a trapped beast, and if Cole’s grip on my hand says anything, hers is doing just the same.
It’s the chaos of a raging storm confined beneath my skin.
Yet oddly though, it's not fear I feel from this beast. I don’t even think it has to do with how exhausted my body is, but seeing the manticore this close and sounding as though it is about to attack has my body sagging in relief.
His vibrant blue eyes are not trained on Cole and me, but rather they stare hungrily past us at the Scylia pirates. Protectively standing at our backs.
It happens quickly; one moment I’m standing there in awe, and the next, the manticore is leaping. Taking to the air in a single bounding leap and downward thrust from its massive, leathery wings.
I’m forced to squeeze my eyes shut as fine granules of sand scatter into the air around us.
After a thunderous roar, I hear the unmistakable sound of snapping bone and a chorus of screams from men not far away.
Cole curses, and we both scamper backward, trying to put distance between us and whatever hell that has come to fruition at the manticore’s maw, even though, somehow, I know he’s not here to hurt us.
Unsheathing the daggers that Kyros gifted me, I hold the blades firmly in each hand, and Cole notches her bow. The new dark swirls of magick vibrate along my skin, and the sand at my feet lifts like static. Cole’s eyes snap to our feet where she notices.
Another rumbling growl and loud echoing roar, which still sounds all too close, as the manticore stirs up more dust and fights through the sand.
The screaming—cries of men—are cut off sharply as the harrowing sounds of carnage rise.
Thuds in the sand vibrate through the ground at our feet, and even though I can’t see the massacre happening in front of me, I know that each one is a piece of human flesh.
“Can you portal us away?” Cole’s voice trembles as she steps in front of me, continuously looking over her shoulder at the danger that now resides there.
Her eyes round and her brows flatten as her face turns ashen.
“Great, Divine.” She swallows hard as an unidentifiable bloody body part lands at our feet.
Her knuckles are white with how tightly she holds her bow.
“I know it sounds crazy, but just trust me. The manticore won't hurt us. We can’t leave without knowing where the others are.” I say as I follow her stare and let my eyes trail further out to where the manticore stands.
My eyes widen as the dust settles and I see what is left of the slaughter in front of us.
The manticore stares down at me, its face obscured by shadows and haloed by the rising sun, while blood cakes its fur, flesh, and sinew from the kills that hang loosely from its mouth.
The gore looking very much like what I’ve seen before after it battled the Cerkins.
The beast’s eyes find mine as it takes a deep breath through his nose, almost as though he is scenting the air before he releases another puff of air and steps forward, bringing us face-to-face.
Cole whispers something as we both stand there frozen.
She slowly places her bow and arrow on her back and pulls at me as the manticore takes a slow, deliberate step toward me, but I don't want to move.
“You aren’t going to hurt us,” I say aloud. Somehow, I sense that from him. “You helped, just like you’ve helped before.”
He stalks around us where we stand. His bronzed face and those bright blue eyes never leave mine, not even once to flick towards Colette.
I don't dare move my head as he circles behind us and goes beyond my vision.
I can feel Cole's hand shaking in mine, and I blink, risking one look at my best friend.
She swallows hard, tears brimming in her green eyes.
My breathing stops altogether as I stand completely still.
The manticore chuffs at the back of Colette's head, its hot breath puffing out in her copper hair.
Her tears fall, marking steady streams down her cheeks, as she squeezes her eyes shut.
I try desperately to keep myself calm as I slowly turn and face the monster of legend.
Every time I’ve come close to the manticore, I’ve felt an overwhelming sense of trust. There has been fear too, sure, but not the kind that brings the sense of fear for my life.
It seems odd to face a monster that is a maneater by legend and feel anything other than debilitating terror.
His eyes burrow into mine, and I hold my gaze steady, refusing to look away.
In my times of need, this creature has always seemed to come to my side.
I have to believe that there is a reason; that maybe he sees something in me.
Shayd’s voice echoes somewhere in my mind.
We were taught Kres were more legendary than even the manticore who protected the gates of Zamiel and Runerth.
Wielders of divine fire couldn't possibly be real.
But wielders of divine fire are real, because I understand now what he was saying.
I am not just Senka-born, but Kres-born too.
I have the shadows of Senka-born and the fire of Kres-born and the ability to portal.
If the manticore is a beast who protects the gates of Zamiel and Runerth…
Does he protect me because I am the key to those gates?
The manticore nudges my shoulder with his nose, and my breath escapes me in a shaky exhale.
Very slowly, I drop Cole's hand and turn to fully face him. That’s when I notice the caves in the distance.
The Eloian caves that have crumbled into nothing.
My shoulders sag and a cry bubbles from my throat.
I cover the sound with the back of my hand, blade still firmly in its grip.
I have to believe that Mavros, Shayd, and Rowan made it out alive.
The lion-like head of legend that many people speak of only serving death now tilts his head as he surveys me.
Our eyes clash, and the intensity of the animal’s stare has my already thundering heart crawling up my throat.
“You saved me,” I whisper breathlessly. “Again.” Quite literally, I know Cole and I were about to die.
Those pirates were going to do everything they could to kill both of us, and considering our exhaustion, it’s very likely that they would have succeeded.
His blue eyes seem to narrow as he studies me.
Somehow, despite being in the presence of what I only ever knew to be lore, a bedtime story of a monster who fought kings and preyed on the flesh of men, I feel safe.
Protected even. This encounter doesn’t feel like the other times I have seen this creature.
This moment feels as though there has been a shift.
He bows his head like he has before. I place my blade back in its sheath on my chest and lift my hand, ready to place it in the center of the beast's head, right between the two curved horns.
“Astraea!” Cole hisses, reaching for my hand, and I shake my head and jerk my hand out of her reach. The animal growls low in protest but doesn’t move against Cole.
“It’s fine. Don't you see?” I say, a force similar to what I feel with Kyros pulls at my chest, urging me to reach for the manticore. My hand lands in his rough fur, and he lets out a satisfied purr. The vibration is working its way through my palm. A sob of relief bubbles from my throat.
My eyes roll into the back of my head as I close them, and my body welcomes weightless as I drift into a space between where I am physically and where I’ve been previously. Every moment, every memory, every dream that has been obscured—comes surging back in complete clarity.
“But why do we have to go?” My voice surprises me; it's small and squeaky as I look up to a woman with long, flowy black hair. Her smile is warm as she looks down at me with tears brimming in her blue eyes. She tucks a strand of dark hair behind my ear before she secures a cloak over my dress.
“It’s not safe here for us anymore.” Sadness that I don't understand fills my chest, but my head nods as I look up at her.
My mother. “Keep quiet, just like the stars.” She whispers, winking like it is a secret joke between the two of us, and I nod my head again.
She pulls the hood of her cloak up, then does the same to mine before taking my hand and guiding me from the room.
The room I now recognize easily as the same one from Diemos.
The halls are dark as we make our way through.
Not many candles flicker along the walls that I distinctly remember always burning after the sun sets.
Fear prickles at the base of my skull, and tears build in my eyes.
It's an odd sensation, being both aware of the emotions of my former self contrasted to those of the present day.
My feet drag a little as I try to turn back to the room that was once mine.
“I’m scared. It’s too dark.” I whine, looking up at my mother. Her head jerks around into the shadows.