Chapter 34
Chapter
Thirty-Four
Augustus’s heart beat a mile a minute as they climbed a hill toward the city center, a place they called The Crossroads.
Here, the buildings were cleaner, and the balconies were made from wrought iron.
It was the place where all roads and paths inside Warian Bay converged, where they held drunken parties and vulgar plays and angry brawls.
The Crossroads was too quiet. Augustus knew better than to believe this was normal.
Cassia’s voice rose through the din of his racing thoughts. “Death comes for us all, Augustus. Patience lets you face it on your terms.”
A show of force wasn’t enough. He had to be smart about this, or more lives than necessary would be lost. He stopped and faced his people. “Split up into groups and scatter. Stay quiet and alert.”
“What’s going on?” Selene asked.
“They knew we were coming,” he said. He felt sick knowing he’d walked her right into this. “Go with Oskar.”
“No—”
Oskar appeared at her side. “Now’s not the time to argue.” The man must have read the pleading thoughts racing through Augustus’s mind. “Nothing will happen to her while I’m still breathing.”
Petrina swaggered forward, flipping knives. “I’ll be there too.”
The entire group of Blades surrounded Selene, but she only had eyes for Augustus, and her jaw was set in warning. She wasn’t going without a fight. “What about you?”
Augustus drew to his full height and threw on the smile he knew aggravated the fuck out of anyone who saw it. “No need to worry about me, i psychi mou. No monsters ahead. Only men.”
Her hands flew to her hips, and he was lucky she couldn’t actually cause fires with a look like that. “Don’t be cute.”
“I don’t actually have a say in that. I am.”
Selene groaned. “Augustus.” Silver lined her eyes suddenly and wet her lashes. “Please stop.”
Augustus caved and dropped the facade. He held her face and set his lips to her ear. “I love you, and I need you to stay safe.”
Her hands tightened around his biceps. “Don’t you dare leave this world without me.”
He almost lost it right there. Her words cracked something open he’d been holding together with grit and gallows humor since setting the Akias ablaze.
“Never.” He kissed her lips, which were now salty from her tears, then the space between her brows. “See you soon.”
“I love you,” she choked out, and backed toward the others.
Without her touch, cold washed through him. He remained frozen on those cobbled stones as she disappeared between buildings with her friends.
The remains of his people blinked back at him in silence. The Rangers, Lili, and the mercenaries—they were short a few members, including the youngest of their leaders.
“Where’s Tomas?” Augustus asked.
Darian, the eldest, flashed a smile. “I sent him back to the ship. For backup.”
Blaze said, “The Drynopians were trained in Okos. If we’re heading into trouble, they could be useful.”
Augustus’s heart stuttered over his two closest friends in the world: Lili and Blaze. The idea that they could end up anything like the crew of the Akias…
No. That wasn’t happening.
“You’re not heading into anything. Lili,” he said with a nod toward the four hunters. “Go with the Rangers.”
Blaze’s eyes widened. “We’re staying with you.”
Roslyn, Luc, and Xavier nodded their agreement.
Lili, face flushed, looked ready to burst from her skin. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of us that easily, mate.”
Milos, the blond Bladesworn, folded his thick, tattooed arms. “You’ll be no use to anyone dead.”
Darian cleared his throat. “We’ve got his back, friends. And yours.” He flicked his hand toward a few of his men to come forward. “Go with them.” When the Rangers didn’t move, he added, “Think of it this way: if things go wrong, we’ll need you. Stay close, but out of the way.”
“Fine,” Lili said, then sidled up to Roslyn’s side. “We won’t go far.”
Blaze filled his hands with knives, his focus on Darian. “Don’t fuck this up.”
Darian smiled. “Don’t worry. We’ll do the job we were paid for.”
Blaze swept him from root to tip, his expression promising a personal skinning if the Bladesworn failed. He then wrapped Augustus in a hug, putting his mouth to his ear. “Be careful. I don’t like this.”
Neither did he, and maybe he was a fool for sending off the only people he trusted with his life. But it was done, and he had to live with it.
Augustus gave his friend a good pat on the back. “It’s me Thorne wants. Just…watch my back, will you?”
Blaze slanted a smile. “Always. Where’s Gus, by the way?”
Augustus scanned the open sky. He could really use the little guy’s help right about now. “Selene said he was excited to be on land—he flew over here hours ago. Probably off gorging himself in the woods.”
“You should go,” Darian said, eyeing a few pirates swaggering past with swords belted to their sides. “Milos will stay with you. Just in case.”
Milos tugged down on his leather vest with studded metal plates. “Follow me.”
The group crossed the road and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Augustus staring after them. Finally, he turned to Darian. “I hope you’re ready for this.”
The man pulled out the massive sword strapped to his back. “I’ve been itching for this fight for a while, Captain. I’m more than ready.”
But as he said it, Augustus couldn’t shake the sense that something was watching from the shadows. Something not quite human.
Selene couldn’t focus on the path ahead. They’d just left him. Between that and not yet knowing what they were leaving him to, she was damn close to turning around.
Oskar paused at the corner of a building so worn that it creaked every time the wind shifted. He pushed his cloak hood back and glanced around, then finally met Selene’s eyes. “We’re not leaving him; don’t worry.”
Her throat threatened to close. “We’re not?”
“I made a vow to keep you both safe and alive,” he said. “You didn’t think that changed with the fulfillment of a prophecy, did you?”
He signaled to the Blades. His men set off in various directions and blended seamlessly into the shadows—it was almost as if they were never there.
“With me,” Oskar said, ducking around the building.
She and Petrina followed his steps with practiced ease.
Selene moved like a dancer, twisting through the crowds without thought, letting instinct guide her.
No one seemed to notice or care who walked among them.
These men and women laughed over barrels of ale despite the early hour.
Shops opened doors for business with the tinkle of bells, and lines of wet clothes rolled out overhead to catch the golden sunlight.
Children ran screaming from each other with wooden practice swords.
Half of Augustus’s entire personality was showcased here in these people. They were lively and unfettered and likely a little reckless. And because she loved him, she had no choice but to love this place, too, with its imperfections and its odd mingling of scents and the unending chaos.
Several minutes into their silent navigation, Selene recognized a wrinkled, bald man atop a crate outside a bakery puffing on the same pipe. “We’ve been through here before.”
Petrina rolled her eyes. “Your observation skills still need some work.”
Oskar paused below an overhang. “You see them, too?”
“They’re good, but not that good.”
A shadow moved in Selene’s periphery high above on a nearby rooftop, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. They were being followed.
Careful not to react, she said, “Got one.”
Petrina fiddled with her belt. “Two more keeping pace behind us.”
“They could be the Blades,” she said.
“They’re not,” Oskar said. “Keep moving.”
Selene’s pulse kicked up. The press of her knives against her body wasn’t as comforting as they had been seconds ago.
“We could draw them out,” Petrina suggested.
“Not yet,” Oskar said. “Let them think they have us.”
Selene quickly realized exactly where the Blades were now that she was looking. They kept to the shadows while remaining in close proximity.
Ahead, Oskar ducked around a corner they hadn’t turned down before, then quickly pulled to a stop.
Petrina collided with him, and Selene with her—
One of the Blades lay in a pool of blood, eyes wide open to the sky, his throat slit deep to the bone. The body lay crumpled beneath a bright blue banner, blood soaking into the cobbles.
From the rooftop above, a man chuckled like he had all the time in the world.
Augustus strode uphill, boots striking the uneven cobblestones with steady, measured steps, a hand resting casually on the hilt of his cutlass. Darian and his mercenaries walked in a staggered formation around him, scanning every nook and cranny.
Cassia, who would never truly be gone, said, “Keep your head up. A man walking to his fate should never look uncertain—it’s the surest way to invite vultures.”
If any vultures existed, they weren’t here. Not yet.
The locals did a poor job of keeping their veneer of normalcy—businesses closed their doors, and carts of goods were rolled into alleyways. Not even the beggar held out his cup for an extra coin.
A slight curve in the road signaled that The Crossroads was near. The way forward widened, and here, pirates and locals stood to watch, spectators for his entrapment. Every few feet, the crowd thickened, and the chatter became cacophonous.
Children sprinted ahead with wide eyes, stopping at the side of various adults ahead. A pair of women laughed at him from a stoop, drawing the full heat of his glare. They scurried inside after that.
Augustus sighed. There was no need to work himself up. He had armed mercenaries with him and would likely see the Drynopians soon—not that he wanted Roman’s help. He’d sent his friends in different directions, but that didn’t mean they’d leave him to whatever trap lay ahead.
The cobbled road opened further, and Augustus stepped into The Crossroads.
A lone musician played a haunting tune on a battered flute near a fountain chipped and stained with moss.
Every street spilled people, carts, and chaos into the center.
Barrels of ale were rolled in, and cups passed around.
Coins exchanged hands with murmured bargains. How many placed their bet against him?
His gaze slid away as he continued forward—
He’d missed the planks before—they were just outside his periphery. Much like inside the Akias, several weathered boards had been erected on makeshift stands. The bodies had been nailed by their hands overhead and were nothing but dried husks now.
Heart in his throat, Augustus ordered his feet over, the way feeling as if he moved through sludge. The people parted for him, snickering.
There were six in total, and Augustus forced himself to recognize the men, their deaths telling the story of at least two more ships gone from the fleet.
Captains Ramón Arboleda and Quintiliano Vasco, along with their lieutenants.
Ramón and Quin had been with the fleet the longest—they were among the strongest his father had.
What did it say that the Akias was gone, and now these two?
Augustus closed his eyes and breathed through his racing heartbeat. Even the weakest among their fleet was strong. This wasn’t the end, and Thorne would bleed endlessly for these deaths.
The hum of voices began to dissipate, and with its absence came the even steps of a single set of boots striking the cobblestones.
Augustus turned, drawing his sword, ready to meet Thorne once and for all.
Except it wasn’t Thorne.
“Hello, Phya,” he said, lowering his sword arm. “I was just coming to see you.”
Taran Phya was a foot shorter than Augustus, though his presence put them on equal ground.
His red velvet coat was embroidered with gold thread and buttoned to his neck, and his black boots were polished to a shine.
Only the breeze ruffling his neatly combed, graying hair broke the window dressing of a man who was well put together.
The man was also very much alone. Augustus had been anxious for no reason.
Phya took a spin for the crowd before returning his attention to Augustus. His voice carried so that all might hear. “You got my message.”
Confusion interrupted Augustus’s thoughts. “Message?”
The man smiled. “When you didn’t return to face your punishment, I sent a message I knew you’d come running for.” He closed the distance with deliberate steps. “When the girl vanished from Thorne’s ship, I worried you wouldn’t show, but here you are.”
Heat tore up Augustus’s neck, and he tightened his grip on his sword. “You had Selene kidnapped?”
“It was written into the contract,” he said as if that were obvious. “And some men know when not to adjust the details.”
Taran Phya turned to face his crowd. “One should not enter into a contract unless one is certain one can fulfill every single detail.”
Augustus couldn’t catch a breath, though his lungs worked hard to draw one. “I’m to be a lesson you teach, is that it? You had to bring my family’s fleet into this? An innocent woman?”
Phya returned his attention with a raised brow. “Your woman was unharmed—”
“That depends on your definition of unharmed. I will never look at her without seeing Thorne’s mark upon her.”
The man raised open palms. “The delivery only required that she remain breathing. And I know what you’re going to say next”—he wagged a finger at Augustus—“I included a clause to protect Thorne in case she managed an escape. Had you rescued her, that would have been a different story.”
Phya’s gaze rose to the dead bodies. “The unfortunate circumstances regarding the Triarius Fleet, however, are not my doing. Tristan Thorne required funding and ships, and I was in just the right sort of mood to help.” His face flushed red, and his voice deepened to a near growl.
Spittle sprayed with his next words. “Your parents thought to buy my leniency and forgiveness with a ship? No one will dare make that mistake again.”
He paused his tirade to smooth his hair, and he yanked down on his jacket. The color melted from his cheeks, and once again, Phya was back to his cool, collected self. “Your punishment will be made public, and it will be severe.”
Something moved behind the crowd—low to the ground, too fast to be a man. Augustus didn’t have time to look before the band of mercenaries closed in tight around him, drawing weapons.
He might kiss Blaze all over again for suggesting they hire these men.
Augustus grinned at Phya, who stood all alone. “And who is going to enforce this punishment? You and what army?”
The long, thick blade of a broadsword appeared at Augustus’s neck from behind, and a steel breastplate pressed into his back.
Darian Kallos chuckled in Augustus’s ear, and his voice came in a low, amused growl. “Mine.”