5. Thanatos’s Temple
Thanatos’s Temple
Skaros & Ianthe
As I’d hoped, Aion had done his job. It had taken him a while—he’d gone back to his quarters to retrieve the scroll first—but in the end, the delay made no difference. He’d successfully carried my petal into the snake-woman’s chambers.
My mate was there, waiting for me. She wasn’t aware of it, not yet, but she would be, soon enough.
I didn’t pay much attention to the conversation between Aion and Ianthe.
A part of me envied him, resenting the priceless gift he’d offered.
I was the one who should be lavishing her with extravagant welcome offerings.
But I wasn’t in a position to give her much.
And Aion had a mate already, so he wasn’t a threat.
“We can afford to be generous,” he’d told Theron. Maybe I could be generous, too, and allow him to get close to my mate.
And then, Aion was gone, and my petal was in Ianthe’s hand. Her touch was so gentle, almost as if she could feel the life hidden within my asphodel.
When she spoke to me, I wanted to reply. I hadn’t been the one to guide her to Asphodelia, no. But now that she was here, I’d be the one to protect her.
No words came. I couldn’t speak to her. She was as unreachable to me as Aion and Theron were. But in her case, I wasn’t willing to stop fighting. Not ever.
Ianthe placed me on her pillow and focused on her scroll. I had a task of my own.
The petal had gotten me past the defenses of the snake-woman. But it was still only a small piece, an infinitesimal presence that could easily be erased.
Fortunately, the death crystals in the infirmary were the perfect solution to that. They were everywhere, in the walls, on the ceiling, and especially hidden under the floorboards.
The death crystals here had been engraved with special enchantments that helped the creatures of Thanatos heal. Death-touched brides thrived under this type of care. Or… Most did. For Ianthe, things were a little more complicated. At least, until now.
I can do this. I am Skaros, and I am her mate.
With a thought, I willed my consciousness to surge into the sole petal on Ianthe’s bed.
It was difficult. For months, I’d been spread out throughout the entire city.
Focusing on one part of me alone felt like tearing myself to pieces.
But it worked, and I became a little more present within the petal.
Ianthe was oblivious. She set the scroll aside and grimaced, clutching her wrist tightly. “Of course you wouldn’t even let me have this. Accursed Thorn-Sickness.”
The illness rumbled under her skin, desperate to gorge on her flesh and blood. Ianthe twitched but didn’t complain. She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes.
As she drifted into slumber, her hand traveled over the pillow, toward the petal. If I’d had a mouth, I’d have roared in anguish. I couldn’t touch her, not really, nor could I cling to her. Instead, the fragile portion of my being slid down the sheets, onto the floor.
The distance hurt, and my savage instincts awoke, more powerful than ever before.
Eat. Eat. Consume everything that isn’t her. Everything she doesn’t need.
The crystals were right there, so close it felt like a blessing. Their energy responded to mine naturally, the same way everything in Asphodelia did. The connection was so potent the basalt floor cracked, leaving me free to act as I pleased.
I needed to be careful, because if I was not, the meat would stop me. At the very least, I had to leave enough crystals behind so that the snake-woman wouldn’t notice I was here.
It was easier than expected. With painstaking effort, I turned my petal into a full plant and dug my roots deep into the crystals. From here, I would feed. From here, I’d make sure I had enough power to stay by my mate’s side.
But the form of a flower didn’t come naturally to me. I had been fangs, venom, and fur. Once, I’d had a tail with a stinger. I couldn’t do anything about the fur, but perhaps the rest of it… Yes, it could work.
The Thorn-Sickness was still working its way through Ianthe’s body, its rumble getting louder, more insistent. Its voice wasn’t as clear to me as that of the asphodels, but it was there, regardless. “Live, live,” it said, over and over. “Grow, grow.”
It didn’t mean to kill. It didn’t mean to hurt. But it didn’t know the difference between its own survival and the death of its host. Not like I did.
And so, it needed to be erased.
My body morphed into a single, thick vine. I slithered back onto the bed, underneath the blanket, and over Ianthe.
In her sleep, Ianthe stirred and let out a small sigh. It wasn’t one of pain. It was one of… relief? She could feel me, too. I knew it.
The Thorn-Sickness trembled underneath her skin. It knew a greater predator was out to hunt it. Even lacking true awareness, it was afraid.
Good.
My mate’s flesh and blood were a feast, but not one a disease was meant to devour.
I stopped growing and forced my form to dissolve into a thread of death energy. Slowly and carefully, I pierced Ianthe’s flesh. Once inside, I followed the intruder’s presence.
Almost instantly, the disease felt me and recoiled. It tried to retreat, to bury itself the way it had from the snake-woman’s healing. But I was a hunter. I was more perceptive. It couldn’t escape me.
I sank my fangs into the escaping disease and fed. The thorns withered away in my grip, their parasitic life force unable to withstand the potent death energy.
But they fought me. It was in their essence to strive for survival. And in her sleep, Ianthe jerked, her body reacting to the struggle within. “Hurts,” she mumbled under her breath. “Please… I need…”
Maybe she knew I was there, and she was talking to me. Or maybe she was praying to whatever deity the people of Korinos worshipped. Either way, the mere idea of her enduring such agony tore at my fraying control.
My naturally fractured consciousness proved to be a grim utility. Cramming my sense of self into the sole petal Aion had carried here had been a painful struggle, but it was also a vulnerability I could use.
Even as I devoured the Thorn-Sickness, I continued to feed on the death crystals in the floor. I grew and grew, until another vine stretched across the mattress to join the first.
Ianthe threw off the covers and spread her legs, unknowingly opening herself to me. She looked divine, and the part of me that was pure predator roared, “Claim her!”
But my mate was asleep, and I’d never take advantage of her unconscious state. Instead, I slithered underneath her sleep garb and curled around her body.
In the dark, my smooth vine-like shape engulfed Ianthe in a cocoon of pulsing greenery. I willed her to feel me, to understand, to know that she wasn’t alone.
Maybe she did, because her body slowly began to relax once again. Deep inside her, the Thorn-Sickness was already losing the battle. Ianthe sank into me, surrendering to the comfort I provided.
And I knew with absolute certainty that I’d never leave her. No matter what I had to do.
The next morning
“It appears you’re much improved, Ianthe. Congratulations. This is excellent news.”
Iaso bent close, her snakes curiously testing the air around me. I reached out and petted one of their heads, smiling. “It’s all because of your efforts, Healer Iaso. I’ve never felt better.”
It was true. Even in the village, before the sickness, there had been injuries. Fatigue. The regular life of a human who toiled in the fields of Korinos. But this morning, I felt rejuvenated, as if I’d been reborn.
Iaso pursed her lips, and for some reason, she didn’t seem completely convinced.
“Assuming that’s true, you’ll probably have to enter the bride market again soon.
And I’m hesitant to expose you to the suitors’ enthusiasm without being absolutely certain.
I’ve been thinking… Would you consider seeing a specialist? ”
“A specialist?” I repeated. I had no idea what to make of that. As far as I knew, Iaso was the best healer Asphodelia had to offer. “Of course, I’m open to whatever you suggest.”
“Very well. Just… keep an open mind. This type of experience can be a little odd for humans.”
That didn’t sound reassuring, but the idea of collapsing in the Agora of Echoes was even worse. “I can accept odd,” I replied. “You’ve been so helpful so far. I trust you, Healer Iaso.”
I wasn’t sure whether that was true or not. But if Iaso realized that, she didn’t show it. “Excellent. Come. I took the liberty of speaking to the specialist ahead of time. He knows we might be coming.”
Iaso helped me get out of bed and change out of my sleepwear. As I slipped on a fresh dress, I caught a flash of white out of the corner of my eye.
It was an asphodel, and it was reaching for me from beneath my bed.
There was something sweet, almost tentative, about the shy motion. It reminded me of the flowers that had guided me from the Blighted Lands and of the petal that had fallen from Aion’s hair.
My first instinct was to pluck the flower. Maybe I could take it with me, to wherever I needed to go with Iaso.
But then I remembered what had happened the day before. The harvesters—Aion included—had been slowly destroying the flowers.
If I said anything about the flower to Iaso, she’d most likely order its removal. She hadn’t spotted the bloom yet, and it hadn’t harmed me. This could be my secret, then.
Decision made, I turned away from the bed and looked straight at Iaso. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Iaso hooked her arm through mine and guided me out of the healing room. “Very well, child. If you feel uncomfortable, at any point, you tell me, and we’ll come back.”
In complete silence, we made our way through the corridors of the building. Death crystals were seamlessly embedded in the masonry along the walls. As we walked, they caught the light and illuminated our path.