Chapter 70
“Thank you for meeting with me, Lieutenant Araes,” Lord Ophis said, stepping aside to allow Araes into his townhome.
Gone was the usual hazy smog of cigar smoke and intoxication.
Just over three months had passed since returning to Venia, and with the daily missions from the head guard, the city’s epicenter slowly expanded toward the exterior borders.
“I only have an hour or so before my scouting unit gets suspicious. Do you have news from Aquilae?” he asked, shaking the rain from his cloak.
“King Altair sends word of their success. It seems the missing children were located in an abandoned salt mine with no recollection of their captor. Whoever took them had ties to the rebellion, but they’re safe.
Only one of the group was orphaned during the invasion.
His family was close to Lady Messene, however, and he’s been taken in by the copyists. ”
Relief felt like a feather across Araes’s rain-damped brow. His goddess fulfilled her promise. The children were safe.
“Great news. With the city re-secured, does our goddess intend on returning home soon?” he asked, feigning emotionless curiosity. Although Ophis and his shades were privy to the truth of their ongoings, Araes wasn’t sure just how deeply rooted the lord’s knowledge went.
“The goddess has a few loose ends to tie up in the southern city, but she plans on returning in a few weeks’ time,” Ophis replied, pouring a glass of brandy from the crystal decanter on the cabinette.
He handed the drink to Araes, who took it reluctantly, then poured a second.
“We may be at the tail end of this war, but there’s still much to be done.
The city needs heroes like you, Lieutenant. ”
Araes scuffed his boot against the stone tile floor. “Respectfully, my lord, I’m not a hero. I just follow the orders given to me.”
Ophis chuckled and settled into the velvet armchair opposite the door. The entryway to the townhome was immaculate. Every crystalline vase and ornate figurine was dusted and polished as if life passed by uninterrupted within these lavish walls. Even fresh cut lilacs adorned the central table.
There were families, starving and without homes, just beyond the river, and yet the highborn carried out their daily agendas of afternoon tea and calling cards. Araes knew Ophis’s staff waited on call to clean up the grime tracked in from his leather boots, even.
“Hero or not, Lieutenant, word of your success against those creatures gives Venia and her people something far more valuable than supplies and coin.” Ophis’s black eyes flashed as he spoke. “You’ve given them hope.”
Araes shifted in his boots. Ophis hadn’t offered a seat. Although the brandy was a welcoming gesture, the lord made his place clear. He was to stand, just as the servants, fixed to their posts around the room. Silence dripped between them like the downpour of rain outside.
“I should take my leave, my lord. It’s a long walk back to Serpens.” Araes placed the untouched brandy on the glass cabinette and clasped his cloak.
“Please, Lieutenant, I didn’t mean to keep you. My shades will alert you of any news from Aquilae,” Ophis replied. The lord didn’t rise from his seat as Araes nodded and exited the townhome.
Damn Lord Ophis and the other self-obsessed councilmen.
The whole of Antares could waste away, for all Araes cared.
In a few weeks’ time, he’d be reunited with his queen, his goddess.
The customs of court and social etiquette wouldn’t keep them apart, this he was sure.
They’d find a way to live this life together.
The tether connecting them thrummed through his veins, reminding him of the undying promise exchanged.
Araes crossed down the alley that’d lead him toward the river, his boots sending puddles splashing over the cobblestone.
He shivered and pulled his cloak tighter.
The grey cloud cover overhead dimmed the sunlight until it felt like an early evening’s time rather than midday.
Raindrops dripped from his brow, streaking his cheeks and falling down his chin.
He’d left the barracks this morning without his waterproof hood, and now facing the fury of the storm, he kicked himself.
“Lieutenant Araes,” a voice said behind him. Araes froze, alarm bells whipping through him like the cool howling winds. “It seems fitting I’d find you here with the rats and the mud.”
The autumn king, draped in a dusk-colored hood, stepped from the shadows. Around them, the air chilled and the stench of rotten leaves slithered through the alley. Procyon’s eyes kindled to a shade of scarlet as he approached.
“What do you want?” Araes’s hand hovered over his own blade as his eyes darted across the alley’s exit. His options were limited. Turn and pray he could run fast enough out of the alley the way he came, or stand his ground against a patron god.
“I’ll ask again, what do you want?” he repeated, his words a vicious bite.
“I can’t check in on an old friend? I’m glad to see you survived that last battle. Those death wielders are pesky little things, wouldn’t you agree?” Procyon hummed low in his throat like a predator, more animal than man.
Araes’s fingers curled around the hilt of his blade. Even the shadows recoiled as Procyon approached. Peeking from behind the fabric of his cloak was a sheathed golden blade. Araes glimpsed a flash of its ornate hilt, marked by a gilded circle of arrowheads. His blood turned to ice.
The blade’s design was nearly identical to the daggers used by the rebel camp.
“Let’s just say, I wanted to have a chat with you regarding your future in Venia,” Procyon chuckled. “Actually, your future on this damned continent, if I’m being honest.” His eyes burned in the pouring storm, like glittering gemstones of pure hatred.
“Kill me. Torture me. Do whatever you desire, but know this,” Araes said, his toes gripping the interior sole of his boots. “She will never love you.”
Procyon wiped the rain from his brow and grinned, the charms laced through his chestnut beard refracting a web of lighting across the sky. The ground quaked, as if it, too, trembled from the immortal’s surge of sheer power.
“I don’t need her to love me, Lieutenant. I already have her crown. It was too easy, persuading my father to agree to our betrothal, but when the mortals are killing one another, well…how could he not acquiesce?”
Araes bit his inner cheek, tasting iron, as the autumn king spoke. Rage flooded his system, pounding on his chest until his bones felt like they might crack open.
“You mortals are greedy bastards. How your race has survived this long is beside me. So quick to kill each other or seek someone to blame. When I slaughtered that hunting party, I thought maybe tension might rise, but a full blown war? And a hungry rebellion? That was your own doing.”
“You want power? Wealth? The mortals will never accept your reign. I wouldn’t be so quick to judge us when we’re a reflection of your own image, autumn king,” Araes spat, taking a slow step away from the god.
He was only a few paces from the alley’s entrance.
If he ran faster than he’d ever gone before maybe he’d make it.
But, the deserted Antarean streets left few places to hide and fewer witnesses still.
Thunder cracked overhead, sending a flood of raindrops plummeting to the earth.
Araes’s throat tightened. His retorts bought him time, but they were futile without a means of escape.
“Well, when they see the true power I hold, I don’t need their acceptance.
They will heed my reign out of terror alone.
After all, isn’t fear the most powerful of legions?
” Procyon stroked his beard. “But, you, the incredible hero of the 15th, who saved his men from their untimely fate. You, the noble soldier, so quick to plunge into battle for his city. You give them hope. You’ve made an example that’ll be a rather annoying memory to erase. ”
Procyon lunged for him with massive hands.
Araes made left, but the autumn king was too quick.
He met Araes’s dodge and slid a forearm around his neck, blocking the steady flow of air to the lieutenant’s lungs.
Araes sputtered and gasped for breath, his fingernails drawing blood as he clawed at Procyon’s tanned hands.
Rain beat down on mortal and god alike as his vision tunneled, black speckles of death multiplying with each failed gasp.
“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with,” Araes choked, his brain pounding against his skull.
“Oh no Lieutenant, if I killed you, well, you’d be a martyr.
When I’m through though, you’ll wish you were dead,” Procyon growled, digging his thumb into Araes’s artery.
Frost leached under his skin, infecting him with an essence that tasted of rotten leaves and frosted death.
Araes’s pulse boomed in his ear as darkness fogged over vision and he sank into the depthless, infinite black.
? ? ?
Tethys felt the tether snap before she could register what had happened.
She’d found herself in Altair’s library over the last month, buried in books.
With news of the rebellion coming to a simmer and her impending birth, there wasn’t much to do but sit and wait.
Her growing belly, now heavy and round, made her sluggish and even the slightest of movements felt like a chore.
Nora and her team of midwives came every day to check on her progress, and although they reassured her of healthy movements and a strong heartbeat, dread washed through her when she imagined what labor might bring.
Now, with a steaming mug of raspberry leaf tea, she kept her nose buried in the books that filled the library’s shelves. The connection to her lieutenant tugged at her chest, sending the mug, pressed to her lips, plummeting to the floor. The ceramic shattered as it impacted cool white tile.
Something was wrong.
Tethys rose from her seat and closed her eyes. No longer could she feel the second heartbeat, miles away. Only silence and a panic-stricken emptiness filled the place where their connection should be.
She made for the door, terror weaving through every muscle, and raced down the hall. Halfway to the sunroom where Altair conducted his daily council meetings, she froze.
A wave of pain crashed from her spine to her pelvis like the surf against a rocky shoal. Tethys braced herself on the gilded wall, struggling for breath under collapsed lungs.
When the pain subsided, she pressed on, reaching the sunroom’s entrance with shallow, gasping breaths.
Another wave fully encompassed her body, this one far more intense than the last. Tethys’s knees buckled and she clung to the doorknob to keep from collapsing.
Her brother’s voice was muffled from within.
She needed to reach him. To tell him something was wrong.
That Araes was in danger. Or dying. Or maybe already dead.
Her pulse quickened, visions of his broken, lifeless body, flashing through her thoughts. No, she wouldn’t accept that. There was still time. Altair could help.
Tethys pulled open the door, meeting the eyes of four startled lords and her brother.
“Sister? Are you unwell?” Altair asked, concern creased in his brow. He lunged for her as she braced herself for another wave of agony. Tethys gripped his shoulders, holding her weight against his steadfast embrace.
“I’m f—” Pain stole her words. The muscles tightened over her belly, sending pressure like nothing she’d ever felt before jolting down her pelvis. Tethys gasped, collecting her rampant thoughts with a sharp inhale. “I’m fine, but something’s happened in Venia. To Araes. I need to go home.”
Altair led his sister to the settee against the northern window.
Sunlight gleaned over its pale ivory cushions and washed the room in golden hues.
The lords on his council whispered and murmured to one another, but kept their curious eyes leashed.
Unlike the Venian council, they knew better than to stray far from their roles.
“Tethys, what you need is to see the midwives. You can’t possibly travel like this,” Altair said, tucking a loose braid behind his ear.
“Altair, I’m telling you, something is wrong with Araes. I can’t—I can’t feel him anymore,” she cried, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.
“What do you mean you can’t feel him?” he asked, suspicion etched in his eyes.
“Please, I’ll explain everything later, but we need to get to Venia. Now.” Tethys clawed at the linen arm rest as the pain again flooded her body. She sucked in a shallow breath and steadied herself amidst the glowing sunlight.
“I will go, but Tethys, we need to call the midwives,” her brother said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Fine, but hurry. I can’t lose him. This baby will not grow up without knowing his father.”
Altair nodded, his eyes simmering to a deep teal, and rose from the settee. “Just stay here until Nora arrives.”
The summer king paced to his council, still murmuring amongst themselves. “Council is dismissed for the day, my lords. We will finish our discussions tomorrow.”
The old men nodded and collected their effects before rushing from the room. Altair kissed his sister’s forehead before a snap of his fingers sent him dissipating into sunbeams.
Tethys focused on keeping her breathing steady in the quiet isolation. The sunroom’s brilliant midday light illuminated every particle floating above her. She closed her eyes, searching for Araes’s heartbeat once again. Only emptiness greeted her. Stillness. A cold vacancy where warmth once was.
She wasn’t stupid. These pains were contractions, and this babe would enter the world soon. Tethys hoped and prayed to every godly being that it wouldn’t be a fatherless one.
“Goddess.” Nora’s quiet voice snapped her back to reality. “I came as quickly as I could. The midwives are getting set up in your chambers.”
Tethys merely nodded, terrified beyond words.
The healer knelt beside the settee and laced their fingers together. Nora’s touch was a soothing cool across her sweat-beaded skin. Her lips thinned as she took in Tethys’s grim complexion.
“Do you trust me?” she asked, her eyes flashing with reassurance. Again, Tethys nodded. The healer clipped her hair behind her ears. “Then let’s go have this baby.”