Chapter 31
“Sister?” Polaris jumped to her feet as Tethys approached, her sleek, long hair wrapping itself around her like tendrils of the nighttime heavens itself. “Eos above, what are you doing here?”
“I needed to speak with you urgently,” Tethys said.
Polaris’s near-white complexion paled and her lips thinned as she stared at her younger sister.
“You’ve come all this way to speak with me?
What matters could be so urgent you risked the journey?
” she asked, pulling Tethys into an embrace.
Polaris smelled like jasmine and winter melons.
Her scent was so indescribably familiar it knotted the back of Tethys’s throat as she breathed her sister in.
Polaris was almost half a foot taller than she was, her height an apparent trait of their father, and her long, graceful arms wrapped easily around Tethys’s petite frame.
“There have been lowborn kidnappings, and the Venian shades found something at the scene that you need to see,” Tethys said, finally pulling away from her sister’s comforting warmth. She pulled the orb from its hiding place and placed it into Polaris’s outstretched palm.
Polaris’s brow wrinkled as she inspected the stone. She twisted it in her hand and held it toward the flickering light of the lantern, now abandoned beside the opened book of fables and crumpled up blanket. Color drained from her face.
“Where did you find this?” Polaris asked, her voice low and serious.
“It was in a puddle where a little girl had been playing shortly before she vanished,” Tethys said, watching her sister’s expression shift from curiosity, to concern, to something far too similar to fear.
“Was there anything else with it?” Polaris asked, her usual collected composure faltering.
“No. Everything was as it should be. Except for this. Take a look at the other side,” Tethys said, pointing to the orb once more.
Polaris rolled it in her palm and held it close to her eyes as she examined the ancient runes.
“I can’t read it, sister. I was hoping you could translate for me.
Maybe there’d be some indication of who’s taking the children.
I suspected this little stone is their calling card of sorts,” Tethys explained.
“Tethys…” Polaris’s expression was grave as she faced her sister. “Let me show you something.”
Tethys followed her past rows of dusted hardbound books with marbled endpapers, and toward the archive’s central tables. Opposite them, a floor to ceiling mural of snow and mountains and night swirled with vibrant colors of the borealis—Polaris’s inherited power.
“Look at the inscription in the bottom left corner.” Polaris outstretched a slender index finger, guiding her sister’s eye to a set of runes small enough to easily be overlooked.
“What does it say? I’m not familiar with the ancient tongue,” Tethys said, kneeling beside the mural. Polaris joined her and traced her fingers across the runes as she read.
“When winter and spring coincide, darkness’s heir brings the light of truth and the fall of vanity. Only embers of life can destroy visions of death.”
“I don’t understand…” Tethys’s brow furrowed at the nonsensical riddle of words strung together.
“It’s what’s carved into your orb, sister,” Polaris said, placing the gemstone back in her palm.
“The ancient northern folk who built this place left it here as a prophetic warning for the future of the realms. Father thinks it the mad ramblings of a mortal whose mind was lost to time, but there’s something in its phrasing that has eaten away at me for as long as I’ve been here. ”
“So, somehow, an ancient prophecy, inscribed in the most sacred of places in all of Ursae, managed to end up in a puddle hundreds of miles away. What do you make of that?” Tethys’s head spun with thoughts of the dark fables and folklore she and Polaris read about as children.
“I’m not sure. I’ve never been able to decrypt its meaning,” Polaris said, fixing her gaze on the mural.
“And what of this place? This lake and cabin?” Tethys ran a finger across the rigid strokes of dried paint. It was clear the artist had replicated every painstaking detail of the landscape.
“At first I thought maybe it was a place in the northern realm, but I’ve scoured the entirety of the region north of the city and there’s nothing like it.
It isn’t our homeland, either. The mortal realm doesn’t have any lakes shaped like this.
” The night goddess adjusted the thin bangle secured around her left bicep as she spoke.
“Could it simply be a painting from imagination?” Tethys asked.
Polaris shook her head, her midnight hair falling in front her face before carefully tucking the strands behind an ear.
With the lighted chandeliers above, Tethys was able to inspect her sister’s face more closely.
Her eyes were sunken and her cheekbones were hollow.
The complexion of her skin was a shade paler than usual, and the sleek pin straight hair that fell past her shoulders was disheveled as if she hadn’t brushed it in a few days.
“Polaris, what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, bracing her elbows against the table.
“Not that I expected a response from Ursae, but why haven’t you responded to my messengers?” Tethys took the seat beside the northern queen.
“I haven’t had time, Tethys. I’m sorry. My studies have overtaken me entirely,” she whispered, the violet star beams in her eyes reflecting shadows off the archive walls.
“What do you mean studies, Polaris?” Tethys pressed. Something was wrong with her sister. Very wrong.
“I can’t tell you that just yet,” she snipped.
“You must, sister. Please. You’re frightening me.” Tethys placed her hand on Polaris’s and flinched. It was frigid to the touch. “Tell me.”
“I cannot, please. I think it’s best you leave now.
There’s a cold front coming.” She slammed her palms on the table and rose from her seat.
Crumpled pages, torn from ancient books, scattered the folds of her navy blue gown as she turned to lead Tethys back to Araes—impatient and flustered by the exit way.
“My queen.” Araes eyes widened at the night goddess as she passed him by, seemingly paying no mind to the mortal man.
“You must go. Now!” she cried, nearly shoving Tethys up the dimly lit staircase.
“But—Polaris, please. Tell me, what’s wrong!
Tell me why you’re acting so strange! Do you know something about the missing children?
” Tethys was frantic as she fought her sister’s magic now forcing her up the stone steps.
Araes trailed close behind, his eyes jumping from one goddess to the other in hopes of finding the explanation he sought.
“Just remember that not everything written in history is truth,” she whispered, placing a swift kiss on Tethys’s cheek just before flicking two fingers, causing the heavy iron door to swing closed.
Tethys and Araes rushed up the stairs, the groan of an ancient metal lock echoing behind them.
“I’ll explain later,” Tethys said, taking the lieutenant’s hand. She locked down the jolt of current that rushed between their touch and focused on climbing the passageway steps. Araes nodded and followed behind her.
Wind roared outside as they reached the vestibule once more, and a thick layer of snow had already blanketed the mountain trail.
“I’m not sure we’ll make it back to the city,” Araes said, his voice a mere murmur in the screeching storm now echoing through the cavernous chamber.
“We have to at least try. We can’t stay here,” Tethys said, securing her fur-lined cloak around herself. Araes nodded in silent agreement and fastened his cloak as well.
The guards had long since left their posts, leaving the temple unguarded. Only a fool would attempt to scale the mountain trail, however. A sheet of ice glazed over the windblown steps and the wind whipped through the air with an angry, unrelenting fury.
Tethys shivered at the frigid daggers now sinking into her core.
This storm brought the type of cold that even immortality couldn’t bear.
As they cautiously began their descent, she wondered what would become of her if she froze to death.
If she had her magic, the warmth of eternal spring would circulate through her system, sustaining her body temperature no matter the condition.
“Are you sure about this, Goddess?” Araes called from a few steps below. He’d taken the lead as they descended in order to map the safe footings of each step before them.
“No,” she replied honestly. Before her fear could truly sink its claws into her, though, the grip of her boot faltered and she lost balance. If Araes had been less of an absolute fortress on two legs, the pair would’ve both slid to their deaths. Instead, he stabilized her in his arms.
“Easy there…” he said, gripping her hips against his. She was incredibly aware of every point of contact between their bodies.
“I just lost my footing, that’s all, Lieutenant,” she said, suddenly breathless.
With gritted teeth, he muttered something under his breath and turned back around. Shielding his eyes from the snow now rushing sideways, Araes continued down the treacherous path.
Their descent was slow and frigid, but not deathly.
Much to Tethys’s surprise, the city square came into view faster than she’d expected it to.
With the lower elevation, the storm simmered into merely a heavy snowfall.
Constructed in the lee of the Ereboros Ridge, Ursae was protected even from the most furious of northern winds.
“Let us find an inn for the night. I’m sure you’re frozen to the core just as I am, Lieutenant,” Tethys suggested, her jaw chattering so rapidly she feared she’d chip a tooth.
“Here, you need this more than I do, Goddess.” Araes unclasped his cloak and draped it over Tethys’s tensed shoulders.
His residual warmth chased the chill away as he secured the clasp at her neck and tightened the heavy woolen fabric around her.
That familiar scent of leather and peppermint lingered as she settled into the fabric’s warmth.
“So, do you still think our trip’s purpose is above my pay grade?” Araes asked as they started up the snow-blanketed street.