Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Aurelia
The room was utterly silent, stripped bare of music and laughter. Only the scorch marks remained—dark streaks across coral tile and the faint shimmer of ash caught in the orbed light.
Patamoi hadn’t dismissed us, but the nobles and guests had gone, along with the servants. All that remained were the king’s personal guard—a number at least three times what he’d surrounded himself with at the beginning of the evening—and his daughters, Nali and Cerynth.
Rydian stood a few paces off, shadows reined in tight.
The strain of the threat still clung to him, dimming only when he glanced at me.
Keres, Amanti, Daegel, Slade, and Thorne gathered close, forming an instinctive circle without needing to be told.
Even without an enemy in sight, they looked ready for war.
Unfortunately, war was a distinct possibility, judging from the look in Patamoi’s opaque eyes.
The river king rose from his coral throne, the trident in his hand catching the reflection of the floating lights. Beside him, Nali stood expressionless. For once, her harem of males wasn’t with her, and the look on her face wasn’t friendly.
“You lured a monster into my waters.” Patamoi’s voice rolled through the chamber, ancient and heavy. “And my people suffered for it.”
Amanti stepped forward, chin high. “My king, they—”
“Don’t speak for them,” he cut in sharply. “Not until your debt is paid to me.”
“Consider it paid tonight,” she said. “With our help, your people remain safe, despite your refusal to join this war.”
Patamoi’s eyes glinted. “And yet a war found us.”
Daegel shifted beside me as if readying his shield. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Thorne scanned the empty alcoves for signs of another attack. Keres stood rigid behind Rydian, glaring outright at the king.
I ignored them all and stepped forward. “Your Majesty, you saw what happened tonight. You heard Heliconia’s voice as she spoke through one of your own people. A naiad she corrupted before we ever arrived Beneath.”
Patamoi’s expression hardened. “She sent a parasite. Nothing more. My realm has endured worse things than the Ice Queen’s tantrums.”
“She’s not throwing tantrums,” I said, my patience a fraying thread. “She’s amassing power, building armies, infiltrating our courts.”
He descended from the dais, trident dragging faintly across the glass floor. The scrape echoed. “You speak as if you fear her.”
“If you don’t fear what she could become, you should.”
A flicker of movement—Amanti’s hand pressed warningly to my arm.
Patamoi stood before me. “You presume much, flame-born.”
His word struck me, and I realized belatedly that he’d seen my furyfire firsthand tonight. That meant he’d likely sensed its source—and knew it hadn’t come from Summer’s magic.
Nothing to be done about it now.
“I only ask that you protect your people,” I said, lowering my voice. “You think the depths make you safe? They only make you isolated.”
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Nali broke the silence. “Father—”
“Enough.” His tone cracked through the chamber.
She fell silent, jaw tight.
Patamoi’s gaze returned to me. “Tell me, flame-born, where does your power come from? It is not mortal craft. No fae magic burns so bright.”
I hesitated only a breath. Lying to him felt pointless. “It’s a gift,” I said. “From the gods.”
A ripple went through the guards. Even my friends went still. Rydian included. The tattoo on my throat practically pulsed with awareness now.
Patamoi’s brows lifted. “So the stories are true. Your gods still meddle in our affairs, hoping we’ll aid them in their own power struggles.” He looked to Rydian then, eyes narrowing. “Do they still favor your kingdom to the destruction of all others?”
“I can’t speak for the gods,” Rydian told him quietly. “But my kingdom stands with yours. If you’ll do the same.”
The king studied him for a beat longer, expression shifting from curiosity to recognition—the kind that made my stomach knot.
Finally, he turned back to me. “A match forged of darkness and destruction,” he murmured. “A dangerous balance to bring beneath my waves. Perhaps the gods think themselves clever.”
“I don’t presume to know what the gods think,” I told him honestly.
“Wise of you.” He leaned on his trident, gaze sharp as the tide. “Their games often end in ruin for the players.”
Amanti stepped forward again. “We ask only for a clear path as we leave you in peace.”
Patamoi’s gaze snapped to her. “You will not leave.”
Every muscle in me went cold. “Excuse me?”
“The rest of you may go.” His trident struck the floor, the sound like a deep bell tolling. “But the Aine’s debt remains unpaid.”
“That’s not fair,” I said. “She helped save your people tonight.”
“The debt between us is not to my people,” he said. “It is to me. I spared her sister once. Now she will serve me as her king until the scales are even.”
My eyes widened. I stepped toward him before I could think better of it. “You can’t keep her here. She’s injured. She needs healing after what she faced in the south.” My voice sharpened. “Or don’t you believe in Brindalorns anymore either?”
Patamoi’s expression faltered for the first time, the weight of the name catching him off guard. “They were thought to be extinct.”
“Apparently not,” Amanti said softly.
He regarded her for a long moment, and for the first time, his anger seemed to ebb. “The Calidium Empire once held a great many wonders,” he murmured.
Amanti nodded at him. “Selene willing, it will hold a great many again someday.”
He blinked at that. Then he straightened, returning to his full height. “You will be safe Beneath, Aine. But your debt demands service. You will tend my court until I release you. A true Aine serving a kingdom of Menryth once again.”
I took a step forward, fury rising again. “You can’t—”
Amanti touched my wrist, her grip gentle. “It’s all right.”
“No, it isn’t,” I hissed. “You don’t owe him this.”
She smiled faintly. “I owe him my sister’s life. I would do this and more for my family. And for you.”
Her words left no room for argument.
Patamoi tapped his trident against the dais. “Then it is settled.”
Rydian’s hand brushed mine, a subtle warning, quiet understanding. We couldn’t afford to start another fight.
I swallowed the protest on my tongue and met Amanti’s gaze one last time. “We will see each other again.”
“I know,” she said simply. “But for now, this is how it must be.”
Patamoi turned back to his throne, the conversation apparently over. “You will leave Osphanis by dawn. I will grant safe passage upstream. The old currents will carry you far from here, unseen by the Frost Queen’s spies.”
Patamoi’s gaze lingered on Rydian one last time, and something like understanding passed between them. His mouth curved in a faint, humorless smile. “Prince,” he said softly—too quiet for the guards, but I heard it all the same. “May your companion never regret the shadow Fate chose for her.”
We left before the city woke, Cerynth waiting outside our rooms to escort us back to the platform where we’d first arrived.
The halls of the palace were hushed, light still low through the corridors.
Our weapons had been returned—cleaned, polished, laid out on coral slabs like offerings.
Nali waited beside them, pale in the torchlight, her expression softer than it had been last night.
“Your blades,” she said. She nodded at the packs, one for each of us. “And rations for a week.”
“Thank you,” I told her.
“Thank my sister,” she said, flashing a grin at the silent princess. “I wanted to fill your packs with those beautiful clothes. She pointed out that having food to eat might be more important… to anyone else but me.”
“Thank you,” I told Cerynth.
The pale princess merely dipped her head.
“I don’t know,” Slade announced slyly. “I would almost go hungry for the sight of Keres in a dress one more time.”
“Mention it again and see how fast I cut the grin off your face,” she said, voice deceptively casual as she went to work strapping weapons to nearly every inch of her body.
Thorne elbowed Daegel lightly. “Ten gold coins say she does it before we reach the surface.”
“Twenty says she starts with his tongue,” Daegel said with a snort.
Rydian ignored them all, fastening his sword to his hip with deliberate, quiet movements. His shadows curled faintly around his wrists, restless, like they didn’t trust the stillness here any more than I did. Not after last night.
Amanti lingered near the doorway, watching us all prepare. Her expression was contemplative. I broke away from the others and went to her.
“Does Patamoi know?” I asked quietly.
“Know what?” she asked.
“That you are related to the heir of—”
“Hush.” She leaned in, lowering her voice to nothing more than a breath. “No. And he won’t.”
A beat of silence passed between us. Secrets brimmed in her eyes. Much like in her nephew’s. But now wasn’t the time.
“I hate to leave you here,” I told her.
She touched my cheek. “I will be fine. And so will you.” Her gaze flicked to someone over my shoulder, her lips quirking in the ghost of a smile. “And when I’m done here, we’ll talk about what’s between you and my nephew.”
My face heated, but she only patted my cheek knowingly.
“Go,” she insisted. “Keep them all in line.”
I nodded. I didn’t have words for the ache clawing up my throat. Nali must have seen it because she came over and squeezed my hands.
“We’ll take care of her,” Nali told me gently.
“There could be more among you like the Obsidian last night,” I warned her.
“We’ll be ready,” she assured me.
There was a glint in her beautiful eye that told me she was more capable than she seemed.
“I’m sorry I can’t do more for your friend,” she added. “But I have no doubt you’ll figure it out.”
I didn’t tell her I wasn’t nearly as sure of it as she was.