Chapter 69
“I think you should remain in Aquilae until you’ve recovered fully after the birth,” Altair said. The three immortals sat around a golden table the following morning. Early dawn’s light filtered in through soft linen curtains, painting the sunroom in shades of peach and topaz.
“I hate to say it, Tethys, but I agree. Venia’s borders are still incredibly unstable and not only will you have a newborn to care for, but you’ll be weak,” Polaris said, sipping her cardamom tea.
Her sister, having recovered from a good night’s rest, arched a brow at Tethys as she opened her lips to protest.
“I can’t simply leave my people without their queen.” Tethys scowled, reaching for a second chocolate scone.
“I merely offer my opinion, sister. I never want you to feel like a prisoner here,” Altair said, pushing the tray of scones closer.
Tethys placed one on her ceramic plate and gazed out the window.
The calm morning tide lapped gently along the shore below.
Her brother offered his home, his protection, and although she knew the decision was hers, the options were null.
“I know. You’re right. I’ll stay,” she said, watching a falcon soar along the horizon. Its cerulean wings ruffled in the steady southern breeze as it dove toward the sea, plummeting into the waves, then reappearing on the surface with a glistening fish. “Besides, I’ve come to enjoy your company.”
Altair snorted and returned to his novel.
Tethys supposed it was a work of nonfiction, a scientific publication, perhaps on the new innovations in ship building.
With the children home safely in their beds and her lieutenant’s battalion on their way home to Venia, maybe she’d browse his library’s shelves.
Her heart ached thinking of her own curated collection, now a mere pile of ash.
“And as much as I’d love to stay and enjoy the day with you both, the north calls. I’ve been away for too long already,” Polaris said, draining her mug. The goddess rose to her feet, her silver gown draping her narrow frame. “As always, Altair, it’s been a pleasure.”
Altair pressed a hand to his chest and offered their sister an exaggerated bow.
“I’ll see you soon, sister. I promise,” Polaris said, grasping Tethys’s hand.
Her sister’s touch was winter’s night in her palm, and although the cold seeped into her skin, she knew Polaris meant it.
This goodbye felt different. Unlike the fleeting comfort of a quick embrace, this was a promise. Everything had changed.
“You are always welcome in Venia,” Tethys replied, a quiet tear rolling down her cheek. “Besides, you’ll have to visit your nephew.”
Altair shifted in his seat. Tethys hadn’t told him the sex of the baby yet.
It was a secret she hadn’t yet been willing to share, but feeling her brother’s power course through her body in the Rift, knowing what risk he’d taken in offering her that piece of himself, Tethys was ready. She wasn’t alone in the fight anymore.
“Never a birthday missed, sister. I promise,” the night goddess said, clasping her cloak.
“There’s one other thing, Polaris.” Tethys retrieved the prism key from her robe pocket and placed it in her sister’s hand.
“Keep this safe. Maybe somewhere in the archives, but tell no one of its location. We can’t risk it falling into the wrong hands.
” Tethys’s hands, is what she meant. If Vorthal’s vision wasn’t merely a mirage of persuasion, then she couldn’t keep it in her possession.
Polaris’s eyes widened, but she nodded and closed her fingers around the thin silver metal.
Shadows, although fainter than before, still spidered in her veins.
In a few days’ time, Tethys hoped they’d fade forever.
She pulled Polaris into the fight, gave Vorthal the opportunity to touch her, and now, she’d sealed her sister’s fate by entrusting her with the key.
Entrusting her to keep it far from Tethys’s reach.
While her guilt hung heavy just over her shoulder, something else drowned it out.
Trust. Polaris wasn’t just the Ursaean patron, not anymore.
Maybe it’d taken centuries, but finally, her sister showed up, and that was all that mattered.
She’d chosen blood over duty. She’d chosen Tethys.
Polaris planted a soft kiss on Tethys’s brow before snapping her finger and dissipating into a misty cloud of night. The quiet morning settled around the table in shades of golden sunlight, and for the first time in a long time, Tethys could breathe.
“A boy?” Altair asked, his turquoise eyes glittering with delight. “You’re in trouble…if I have anything to do with it.”
“You will not teach my son to be a brute,” Tethys laughed, sinking into her chair. “He’ll already be a handful enough if he’s anything like his father.”
“Your son will be loved, that’s for sure.”
His father. Araes. The morning report hadn’t arrived yet, and with the outcome of the 15th’s invasion unknown, she could only envision the worst. Her eyes darkened with grim hypotheticals.
She closed her eyes, searching for the second heartbeat through their tether.
It was slow and steady with a sleeping rhythm.
He was alive. That’s all she needed for now.
“I know you’re worried, but if something terrible happened, we’d already have heard about it.
Keep faith, little sister. Lieutenant Araes is a fierce fighter.
” Altair closed the leatherbound book and placed it beside him.
“He will return to you. Whether it takes a month or a year or ten, I’m sure of it. ”
? ? ?
Rubble and dust greeted the 15th when they arrived at Venia’s border.
The wall, once jutting into the sky hundreds of feet high, now barely stood knee height.
With the war in full force, the rebels managed to entirely decimate the city’s final protection.
The council ordered the remaining city guards to retreat and keep the Antarean district secure, leaving the outer edges of Serpens and its lowborn people defenseless.
“Fuck,” Niko whispered as they marched past row after row of yellow townhomes, now stained with crimson spatter. “I knew the conditions were bad, but this is…”
Their battalion exchanged somber nods with another unit, searching the rubble for survivors. Araes knew by their grim eyes that their efforts were futile.
There was no life here. Not anymore.
They passed a flower shop, one he’d visited so many months ago. The tattered flag, now sun faded and shredded, floated in the lingering afternoon breeze.
“Most of the lowborn retreated north to the farming districts, but the camps are overwhelmed,” Haidee said, scanning the vacant streets as they traveled deeper into the city.
What few lowborn were able to evacuate were long gone, leaving shopfronts and fruit stands abandoned.
He thought of the children—had Tethys been successful in bringing them home?
Was there even anything left to return to?
The battalion were quiet as they serpentined through the city, hearts heavy under the silence of an abandoned city.
By the time they reached the Eastern River, now fortified with patrolling guards, Araes’s pulse throbbed and his head ached.
His city, his home, was no more than ash.
His mother and sister, although far enough from Serpens, were left unguarded.
The council they’d wholeheartedly trusted turned their backs and retreated to their pristine white homes and safeguarded neighborhoods.
“Welcome home,” the head guard said, guiding the battalion over the cobblestone bridge.
This lifeless encampment of cold-faced highborn and upturned noses wouldn’t ever be his home.
Maybe months ago Araes might find relief behind the eastern rivers’ protective rapids, but now it felt foreign.
Without Tethys, Venia was merely a shell, a facade.
Beautiful like a gilded statue with pristine golden curves, but hollow under its smooth, shining surface.
“Barracks are in the aviary. Get showered, get rested. Visit with your families. You’ve earned it,” Haidee said, crossing her arms. “Formation will be at the temple in two days’ time.
Don’t be late. Half of you will be assigned to aid the city guards in re-securing the city, the other half will be sent to the lowborn camps in the north.
The medics are overwhelmed and need more hands.
Before I hear any ‘but we aren’t healers’ bullshit, this is what our city needs.
You are sworn sons of Venia, and your oath is to protect our realm and the people in it.
If that means emptying bedpans and handing out soup, you’ll do it without protest.”
The soldiers grumbled exhausted responses and crept up the street toward their makeshift barracks. While Araes’s body begged for a hot meal and shower, he couldn’t rest. Not yet. He turned on his heels and started north.
His feet led him through the winding cobblestone streets and past an overgrown garden that faced the sea. They carried him up the steps to a faded blue door. One with splinters down the center, both old and new.
“Hi, Mother,” he said, greeting the exhausted old woman who answered his knock, and collapsed into her embrace. She wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders and for a moment, Araes dropped his shields.
He was a boy again, sheltered safely in his mother’s comfort, and finally, he let it all go. Every last drop of violence and darkness and rage flooded from him as he sobbed into the crook of her neck. His chest split open, setting free the demons lurking there.
Maybe his heart was worlds away, but at least he was home.