Chapter 23 #3
“You know precisely why we’ve fought so much.
” He did. Abaris. “Making chimeras is one thing. But if I’d allowed her to…
to do that to Leandros, my fated, her own father, it would have been an abomination.
Even if she’d succeeded, he never would have wanted that.
And she would never have come back from becoming a soul swapper.
You can’t…tear a soul out of a body and shove another inside without losing something precious inside yourself,” she sighed.
“But you know Batea. Stubborn to a fault. She was convinced it was the only way to bring back the father she remembered with his mind intact. She was angry that I stopped her, that I cursed her so that she could never perform such a vile act. And I…said things I can never take back. I wounded her deeply. Even though I now believe she knows why I did it, the scars linger.”
It was no wonder. That day, her fury had known no bounds.
When Myrina had discovered the prisoner, Abaris, and the beast Batea had nearly managed to stick his soul into, she’d swiftly killed the poor wretch in sympathy.
And when she’d managed to force it out of them what they’d had planned—to practise until Batea could put her father into a younger man’s body—he’d feared for their lives.
He’d never seen her so furious before, and never would again, but that day, it was as if Passion Herself had gripped them in Her hands and nearly squeezed them to death.
The divine magic that had flooded the dungeons had taken months to dissipate, and yet the sense of divine displeasure never faded, as if it had been carved into the very bedrock.
Theron did his best not remember that version of his aunt, eyes blazing with fire, magic that coiled around him with malice, one wrong word away from killing to protect her fated from suffering an unforgiveable violation.
Theron had been able to forgive his aunt, as she had forgiven him.
But Batea? She’d never been able to fully forgive her mother, not for stopping her, not for unleashing her magic upon her, and never for sealing away her potential.
Now that he had a fated of his own, Theron understood her fury all the better. In fact, knowing what he did now, it was a testament to her love for them she’d held back her wrath as much as she had. He’d killed men for less where Aurora was concerned and would again without hesitation.
Just thinking of her was a balm to his sour mood. A much-needed balm, given he’d ruined his chance to really listen to his cousin. What had she said?
“She tested me.”
Myrina snorted.
“She tests us all.”
Theron chuckled.
“No, not like that. When that bi—” he stopped, seeing Myrina’s disapproving glower.
“When she pressed a blade to my throat, she refused to release me until she tested me. First, she spoke Abaris’ name.
Then she asked me what colour my hair was.
When I answered, she seemed relieved to think I wasn’t cursed, unlike Dia.
” Goddesses, he’d not even asked after Dia.
Some ally he’d been. Where was she now? Had the dualists taken her in? Was she being cared for?
“Cursed how?”
“I don’t know.”
But something scratched at the back of his mind.
Think you fool, the answer is there.
“You thought her mad, the last time you spoke to her.”
“Can someone be cursed into madness?”
“No, not that I’m aware of,” Myrina replied.
He would have to think more on the matter. She’d also mentioned traitors and spies—specifically Lady Ino.
“She also told me Lady Ino, among others, has allied with Orithyia against me. She seemed to think they assisted in constructing the spire.”
“Truly?”
“I…believe so. In truth, I was so angry with her, I was barely listening,” he admitted, the tips of his ears heating.
“Did she bring you proof?”
He shook his head.
“She asked me to allow her leave to investigate, to call off the hunt for both her and Drakon. Stubborn fool refused to listen when I told her the beast is likely to be the death of me. Naturally, I refused.”
Myrina clasped her hands in her lap.
“Did she explain why she god-napped Knowledge’s statue?”
“She claims she was far too busy to have done so.”
“Hmm.” Myrina stared out the window as dawn approached in the dreary sky. “Who do you trust more, Batea or Orithyia?”
Batea. By an impossibly wide margin. Despite her stubbornness, her recklessness, her dualism and her bloody beast, she was who he would choose as an ally.
“Batea. And you?”
“My daughter, naturally. But then that leaves us in quite the predicament. If Batea is trustworthy, then that means Orithyia lied about seeing her amongst the dualists who stole Knowledge. It means every cleric at her side is willing to lie. Was it simple misidentification? Was it deliberate? Or is something else at work?”
When it came to Orithyia, there were always schemes within schemes.
“If Orithyia is lying, what will you do?”
“I know what you wish of me, Theron.” Of course she did.
He wanted Orithyia deposed, her magic revoked, her honour forever stained.
“If you bring me proof that she knowingly blighted Aureum, that she colluded with Aurean nobles to bring ruin to this kingdom, that she is guilty of some unforgivable offence, then I will depose her myself.”
“Why the sudden change of heart?”
The blight had afflicted Aureum for some time.
Myrina had shared Dia’s opinion that he needed to take a queen to solve it, that the spire and the timing of the blight could have been an unfortunate coincidence, one bolstered by the fact that the blight had not ended simply because the spire had fallen.
“If she lied about Batea stealing the statue, then she is trying to kill my daughter. I won’t allow it. I don’t care what kind of high priestess that makes me.”
Theron swallowed, hope surging in his veins. At last. At last that wraith had made a fatal misstep. If Batea could bring him proof, or if he could uncover it himself, then Orithyia’s days as a thorn in his side were soon to end.
“Did she say anything else?” Myrina asked.
No doubt she’d hoped Batea would have a message for her. Alas, his cousin was far too prickly for that.
“No.”
“I see.”
“If I find anything, I will let you know.”
“Will you call off the hunt?” she asked.
Theron shook his head.
“I can’t. I made a vow to my wife. Drakon must die.”
“And Batea?”
“I will…give instructions she is to be taken alive, at all costs. If she is to return to my side, or any kind of life not lived on the run, we must prove her innocence publicly.”
Myrina nodded.
“Take care then, my little lion.”
“I will, Aunty.”
As he was leaving, he caught sight of Aurora’s palanquin outside the temple of Justice.
Curious, he sent one of his guards to find out who she was meeting.
Waiting inside his own as the rain steadily bathed the temple district, he had time to test how well the antidote was working.
Reaching for his magic, he felt the barest whisper of it.
Theron sighed with relief. He’d never imagined a poison could rob one of their wild magic.
If he ever got his hands on Batea, he’d demand to know what it was.
Triad knew there were a number of nuisances he wouldn’t mind feeding it to.
“Your Majesty, Her Highness is visiting with the avatar.”
“Is that so? When she is finished, invite him to the palace.”
“As you wish.”
If they were to make their way once more to Cor to deal with the site of the ruined spire, it wouldn’t hurt to have the avatar by their side.
If he’d been tracking Batea and Drakon, then he had good instincts.
Would Lord Leukos be soon to follow? After all, they’d been given the same order.
If so, he could set the Viridian on the unenviable task of capturing Batea alive while keeping the avatar close at hand should Drakon surface or Batea return to him with the proof he sought.
That done, Theron left Aurora to her meeting with Hyllus and was brought back to the palace.
No doubt the rain would keep some of the petitioners at bay, but today would be his first test as a king who had performed the Rite of the Penitent Lover.
Who would think it weakness? Who would strike first?
What new enemies had joined forces since yesterday?
As he was bathed and prepared for the day ahead, he reminded himself that no matter what confronted him, he was strong enough to face it. With Aurora at his side, he could wear his crown with pride.
Before court was set to begin, an attendant came to him with an urgent message.
“Her Holiness, High Priestess Myrina, requests an urgent audience.”
Urgent? Had Batea gone to her mother? Had Myrina been able to convince her to turn over the beast? Or had something happened to Aurora?
“Let her in and leave us.”
The attendants quickly ushered her inside, served refreshments, and closed the doors behind them.
Something good must have happened, or her own attendants were miracle workers with their powders.
Gone were her dark circles and the tension in her shoulders.
In their place was her usual cheery self, her gait relaxed.
“Aunty,” he said, urging her to be seated. “You said it was urgent.”
“Indeed, Theron,” she said, taking her seat and pulling a cup of tea to her lips. “Are you certain we’re alone? Unobserved?”
His heart leapt. What had she learned in their brief time apart?
“Yes. What have you learned?”
“You may wish to be…fortified. Please,” she gestured to the tea.
He sighed, taking a cup and sipping it, if only to get on with it. This reticence wasn’t like her at all. But the tea must be off. He coughed, putting it down.
“Apologies. Don’t take another sip. I’ll have a word with Polydorus about…” he trailed off, seeing a strange smile on his aunt’s lips.
He coughed again, his throat ticklish.
“What,” he started, breaking off into another cough.