CHAPTER TWO
Peering at the foamy river up ahead of us, Aurelia asked, “Do you think that’s blood?”
I considered it for a moment. “Probably not. The gods likely colored it red somehow.”
It had been a long three days, but finally we were almost at Deimos. It was located beyond the bridge we were approaching—a place of tall mountains, sandstone pillars, and a blackened forest shrouded in an ominous shadowy fog.
Reaper’s Pines.
“They say death awaits any who step foot on the island uninvited by the Sovereigns,” Kemp remarked, speaking to no one in particular.
I felt my nose wrinkle. Personally, I doubted that it was a literal term.
More like a reference to how dangerous the terrain was, given the many creatures that allegedly inhabited it.
Unless you knew the way to the city and could find it through the fog, you were bound to become dinner for something during your travels.
“We’re with the Black Tapestry, so we’ll be fine.” But there was a note of uncertainty in Aurelia’s voice. She glanced at me. “Right?”
“Let’s hope so,” I said.
I’d gotten to know her and Kemp a little better during the days we’d spent on the road.
Traveling through Cathadonya wasn’t always safe.
Not when the unclaimed parts were home to wild animals, bandits, and mercenaries.
Some of the latter were not only scavengers but cannibalistic, if the stories were true.
However, the road trip had been uneventful.
Most of the offerings were wound tight at this point. Myself included. The confined space of the cramped wagons only made me edgier.
We’d made regular brief pit stops along the way—for which I was eternally thankful. We’d typically stopped four times throughout the day to eat, relieve our bladders, stretch our legs, and refill the leather water pouches that the officiates had handed out on the first day.
Only when it was time to sleep had we paused in our journey for more than half an hour. As such, my butt hurt thanks to the hard bench, and my joints were stiff and achy—most especially my knees from having to keep my legs bent for hours on end.
Likely because they weren’t quite so nervous as the humans, Atticus and his fellow godkin were currently asleep, leaning against each other, their breaths light and easy.
Kemp slanted me a quick look. “What kind of reception do you think you’ll get from the Sovereigns?”
I blew out a long breath. “Not a welcoming one.”
Aurelia caught my eye. “I’d expected the officiates to shoot you constant glares, considering godkin in general aren’t happy that a human was made a Sayer. But they seem more curious than anything else. Same goes for Talon.”
I’d often caught him watching me, his eyes narrowed, his seemingly permanent frown etched onto his face. Having his attention might have made my stomach all jittery if there was anything sexually appreciative about his looks, but there never was.
I’d heard some officiates whispering to each other, debating what it could mean that the gods had chosen a human for a Sayer; if Aegeas could be right that it didn’t mean anything at all.
I hadn’t gotten irritable over being stared at.
It would have been hypocritical—I’d been paying close attention to the officiates, curious about the stunningly beautiful godkin.
Due to having never left Phoenixia until now, I hadn’t encountered the other godkin races of Cathadonya before.
But I’d heard about them and knew how to tell them apart.
The godkin of Delphiae sported white hair, a slightly upturned nose, and a glowing earthy skin tone.
Those from Nemea were dark-skinned with wide cheekbones and black hair that boasted pure-gold streaks.
Any from Lykaos possessed large amber eyes, low-set ears, and heavy-framed builds.
Those in Phoenixia shared pointed ears, narrow faces, and widely spaced-eyes.
There had once been other races, but many had been wiped out during battles.
Only one other remained—the godkin of Deimos, who all had alabaster skin, black irises, angular faces, and were said to drink blood.
More like them existed, but they lived outside of Cathadonya, having fled to the Dark Lands after the failed mutiny—or the Uprising, as most referred to it.
The traitors had each claimed their own domain there, refusing to acknowledge the Sovereigns as their kings. In the years since, the four had so often fought amongst themselves, each grappling for more power over the Dark Lands, that they now considered each other enemies.
The clop of hooves became louder as we began our trek over the bridge, a grating sound filling the air as the wheels dragged over the stone.
Finally, those same wheels hit dirt … and then it was as if nighttime had fallen.
My breath caught when the sun all but disappeared as we drove into the forest. The tall, twisted trees—some black, some ruby red, some a rich brown—were clustered so tight together that they created a dark blanket up above.
The wagon’s cover flapped with a breeze that came from nowhere and everywhere. I rubbed my arms as it seeped into the wagon, carrying the scent of tepid, stale air.
Though sporadic beams of sunlight slashed through the gaps in the canopies, it didn’t help me see much of my surroundings. The fog was too thick. All I could make out were wispy visions of the unpaved road that seemed to cut through the labyrinth of trees.
Minutes went by, but the haze didn’t dissipate. As such, I heard more than I saw. Heard the distant thunder of a waterfall, the creaking of branches, the burbling of a stream, the flapping of wings, the—
A far-off bestial howl cut through the air, making several spines snap straight.
The hairs on my nape stood up as a grave unease twisted my insides. Hmm, I wasn’t liking Deimos so far.
More and more animalistic sounds came our way as we drove. Caws. Snorts. Rumbly growls. Even a feline roar.
Some of said sounds were a little too close for comfort. Shadows occasionally moved in the fog. Branches would snap. Fallen leaves would crackle. The Laelaps in the wagon would subsequently growl in warning, their eyes pinned on something I couldn’t see.
I was pretty sure several things were stalking us, hence the intense pounding of my heart.
Time seemed to drag on as we continued through the woods with no end in sight. But at some point, the fog started to disperse and the trees began to thin out. Then, soon enough, it was right there.
A gray fortified wall as high as the nearby sandstone pillars.
My breath hitched, and nerves gripped my gut tight.
Atop the wall were four, large stone dragons spaced evenly apart, perched there like gargoyles. Statues were all that was left of the magnificent race. The dragons had tragically died in their defense of the gods during the Uprising.
A creak preceded the opening of two excessively tall wooden doors that revealed an arched entrance barred by an iron gate. A gate which then lifted.
We drove straight into a large, rectangular bailey. Just like that, the fog was gone. As if whatever power created it also kept it restricted to the Pines.
Taking in everything around me, I felt my lips part. The city was massive. And utterly beautiful.
Workshops, stables, market stalls, and other small buildings could be seen around the bailey. The white stone buildings were covered in vegetation, making them look part of a woodland glade. Vines wound around columns. A blanket of grass lightly overlayed steps. Ivy dangled over archways.
All the vegetation was lush and vivid. Almost ethereally so. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see fabled nymphs flitting around.
The people in the bailey backed away from the traveling party, bowing their heads in respect. Going by their simple clothing, they were all basic servants. They were also … “Human. They’re human.”
Kemp stared at them, equally surprised. “People who were born here, or people who were sacrificed to the Sovereigns?”
“I have no idea.” It was worth noting that none appeared to have stamps on their inner wrists.
The humans of every dominion were branded with its crest. Mine was that of Hellyne’s phoenix.
The Lykaos crest boasted a wolf, since the gods who’d lived there had been able to shift into such an animal.
Similarly, the primordials of Nemea had occasionally taken the form of a lion, so the animal was featured on its crest. That of Delphii had a fire salamander, representing their ancestor’s ability to call on the natural elements.
For the humans here to bear no brand, they’d either all been born at Deimos or someone had removed the marks when they came here—as if to shake off their prior loyalties to the various Archdukes.
As we continued forward, I let my gaze continue to roam. On the left of the bailey, rows of simple houses were set into grassy hills. I couldn’t tell if they’d been built into the hills or onto them—either way, it was a charming plateau.
A forest lay on the outskirts of it. It wasn’t creepy like the wooded area of Reaper’s Pines, though. The inviting blossoms here were the color of bright peaches.
On the far right of the bailey, a second residential quarter could be seen. The houses there were bigger and more regal. Probably for anyone with status, I thought.
At the border of the quarter was a grand tower surrounded by landscaped gardens.
Beyond that was yet more uninhabited terrain—some pastureland, some forested.
These were separated from the residential quarters by the river that passed through parts of the city.
Bridges were here and there, enabling people to access those areas.