Chapter 65
“Are you sure about this, sister?” Polaris asked, midnight hair whipping across her cheek in the approaching offshore gale. The jagged cliffside jutted from the sea, sending furious waves breaking against grey stone.
“As sure as I can be,” Tethys replied, pulling her cloak tighter.
Altair transmitted them to their familial home shortly after their sister arrived in Aquilae.
Her dark navy skirts trailed her like snowflakes and the opal pendant, now dangling from her slender neck, twirled in the rising winds.
Stars speckled the night sky overhead, casting out the shadows that lurked between rows of wild sea grass and massive willow trees.
The orb Tethys kept concealed in her pocket hummed with ancient, excited energy.
“Let’s make haste then, before Mother and Father realize we’re here,” Altair whispered, leading his sisters up the dirt path toward their massive family palace.
Like a fortress carved from sea stone itself, the castle pierced the sky, splitting the grey, overcast clouds into swirling trails of rainy threats.
The three immortals followed the trail through fields of pampas grass and broken boulders—artifacts from their home’s creation.
“The wards are stronger than I remember,” Polaris whispered, the screaming winds nearly stealing her voice away.
“Maybe Father strengthened them to keep us out. Do you think he suspects our return?” Tethys asked, curling her hair into a knot behind her ears.
“He’s too busy dealing with Proc, I’m sure. I can feel Mother’s light. Polaris, can you sense his darkness?” Altair asked.
Polaris closed her eyes for a moment, the tendrils of hair draped down her frame flowing with shadows.
“His essence is faint, but nowhere near strong enough to be here,” she replied finally.
“Well, good, it’ll be easy enough to sneak under Mother’s nose, then.” Altair raised a palm to the iridescent curtain sparkling across the open gateway, like a warning not to enter. “Perhaps this ward isn’t to keep us out, but to keep something in...”
Tethys scanned the massive fortress walls towering over them. The palace had only two points of entry—gates that burrowed through thick stone and opened into a massive courtyard.
“I don’t know if this will work, but what do we have to lose?
” Tethys asked, approaching the translucent wall.
She retrieved the prism key from her cloak, pressing it into the magic with trembling hands.
Polaris, just over her shoulder, drew a breath, watching her sister with concern furrowed in her brow.
The prism key vibrated in Tethys’s palm, as if it were a siphon stealing the ward’s power. Tremors shot through the ground, sending ripples over the coastal grasses. The ward parted just above Tethys’s waist to form a keyhole, its shape mirroring the key’s silver teeth.
“Go ahead, sister,” Altair said, gesturing toward the ward.
Tethys inserted the key, her breath fixed in her lungs and twisted.
It clicked into place, releasing a lock mechanism somewhere with the magic.
Then, as swiftly as the keyhole appeared, the ward dissipated, leaving only shimmering specks of aether floating on the wind.
“Well, let’s go, then.” Tethys smirked and returned the key to the safety of her cloak. Although the storm loomed overhead, the air inside the castle yard was warm and dry as a perfect sunny day.
“I guess Mother still maintains her magic here,” Altair said, starting for the castle’s entrance. “It’s been—Eos above, how many centuries since we’ve all been back here?”
“I’ve lost count, but it’s just as we left it,” Polaris replied, pulling a wooden training sword from its rack. Tethys smiled sadly, glancing at the sword in her sister’s hands.
“I believe that’s yours, brother,” she said.
Etched on the crudely carved hilt was Altair’s name in scribbled lettering.
Altair smiled and took the training blade from the night goddess, faking a dramatic parry as he sidestepped away.
How many hours did Tethys watch her brothers in the yard, jabbing and slashing at one another with feigned aggression?
“I always did want to join in your duels, Altair,” Tethys whispered, watching her brother dodge an imaginary enemy. He froze for a moment, catching the sadness lingering over her expression.
“I’m sorry I never let you,” he said, his voice suddenly earnest in its tone.
“You were a child then, influenced by our father’s traditional customs,” she said, holding her palm out toward Altair. He placed the training sword in her hand. It was heavier than she’d imagined. “I still enjoyed watching you kick Procyon’s ass.”
The memory soured when she thought of Procyon. He hadn’t returned to Aquilae, and while his absence lifted the weight pressing on her chest, his rage over what he’d learned that day trailed her like a shade.
Little fires circled from every direction, creeping closer to the kindling beneath her feet. She sighed and followed her siblings to the castle’s entrance. Extinguish one at a time. Rescue the Venian children today, face Procyon’s wrath tomorrow.
“When were you going to tell me?” Polaris whispered. They entered the keep, following the endless hallway toward the dungeon’s steps, with Altair spearheading the way, his palm illuminated in sunlight.
“Tell you what?” Tethys asked, refusing to meet Polaris’s eyes.
“Don’t do that, Tethys. You and I both know what I’m referring to,” her sister snapped and glanced toward Tethys’s swelling belly, hidden under her draping cloak.
Altair disappeared down a corner ahead, his sunbeams swaying with each stride.
Tethys boots squealed against blue ceramic tile as she paused.
“You haven’t been here, Polaris. Why would I trust you with something like this?” she asked, her tone low and harsh.
“What do you mean I haven’t been here? I’ve always supported you. Am I not your sister? You know how much I love you,” the night goddess said, reaching for Tethys’s curled fist. Tethys ripped it away before her sister’s cool fingers touched her skin.
“You can tell me anything. Always. And to think you’re keeping something like this from me? It breaks my heart, Tethys. After everything we’ve been through. Everything I’ve done for you…you shut me out.”
“You left me!” Tethys cried, her body trembling with a bubbling rage.
Polaris’s eyes widened as she took a step back.
“When you made your Arrival, you left and didn’t look back.
And when you knew how horrid Procyon was, you left again.
You said yourself you wished you could protect me from him, and yet you and our brother stood by and let him hurt me and… and…and rape me over and over again.”
“Tethys, I—” Polaris reached for her hand once more.
“I needed you,” Tethys breathed, letting her tears wash the heated anger from her cheeks.
“You are just as bad as Procyon for letting it happen. For supporting that marriage. So no, I didn’t tell you about my pregnancy.
I didn’t tell you about Araes. Let’s just get this over with, then you can return to your palace of snow and ice and we’ll never have to see each other again.
” Tethys turned the corner and followed the lingering sunlight from Altair’s trail, refusing to hear her sister’s response.
? ? ?
“Something is very wrong here,” Araes said, scanning the dimly lit hall.
Silvery light, pouring in from the row of arched windows to his left, illuminated the thick layer of dust that’d settled over the room.
He hadn’t realized it was already past sunset.
Time snuck by among the shadows. He’d been wandering the keep’s halls until day transitioned into night.
Each creaking timber and fractured stone felt like the ribs of some monstrous beast, digesting him slowly. Araes approached a massive table, extending the full length of the great hall. Chairs in varying states of disrepair were scattered around the room, each stained and mildewed.
“Unless these rebel scum prefer to live like vermin,” Niko muttered, flicking a matted blanket off the table’s gnarled surface.
Araes gaze caught on the half-eaten meal beside him, now wriggling with maggots.
Although the keep was a crumbling relic of the ancient Venians, he’d at least expected a lit candle or two.
Instead, rotten mist shrouded the room. Water dripped from holes in the ceiling, sending raindrops scattering across the stone floor.
He adjusted his grip on the blade at his side, scanning the ruined chamber.
“Let’s check the storerooms,” Araes said, his voice low. “Stay close.”
They moved cautiously, boots splashing through shallow, murky puddles. The storerooms offered nothing but toppled shelves, shredded sacks of grain, and putrid crates of mold-covered fruit.
“Did something seem off about the men outside to you?” Araes asked, his knuckles bone white around the hilt of his weapon.
“They were a little sluggish, I guess, but these rebels are a rag tag group of farmers. I hadn’t expected elite warriors, regardless of Haidee’s reports,” Niko replied, his crimson cloak collecting mud as he followed Araes through the room.
“Alright, let’s go find Captain Haidee. I can’t stand another second of this smell,” Araes huffed, turning on his heels. There was nothing here. Not a soul in this place, save for the maggots and rats.
His attention snagged on a narrow passageway just beside the door, its entrance partially hidden beneath a torn banner—stained and frayed across its hem. A draft whispered from within, carrying an ancient, musty chill.
“I’ll check this,” he said, pulling back the banner.
“Alone?” Niko asked, tossing him a wary glance. Only darkness filled the narrow passage, as if even the moonlight knew better than to traverse its length.
“Just cover the storeroom,” Araes replied. “If anyone’s still here, I’ll flush them out. Be ready.”