Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Alexander insists on holding my hand as we weave through the crowd to Khione.
I don’t know if it’s because he’s afraid someone will get between us or he thinks I’ll try to run off and do it on my own.
I seriously don’t understand why he has to be right next to me.
However, I’ll be doing whatever the hell Aphrodite wants me to since she’s not just my most powerful ally but also my grandmother.
Boreas and Khione still stare stone-faced when I get within a couple of yards of them.
I wonder how best to greet a king. It’s certainly not how I did when I encountered King Dardanus.
I should probably bow and lavish him with compliments, but frankly, I don’t have time to bullshit around. I decide on a straightforward approach.
“King Boreas, Princess Khione,” I say, and they both turn their cold eyes on me. I gulp and continue, “I come at the behest of Aphrodite.”
The bickering around the court quiets to listen to me closely. Oh Jesus, I better get this all out before it comes to blows.
“She has a message for you, Princess Khione,” I say and rush the rest of the words. “Your son is on his way to become the King of Thrace. You must claim him as your own.”
Khione’s eyes widen before turning them ever so slowly toward her father. The God of the Winter Wind’s deathly pale cheeks pinken, and his eyes take on an icy rage.
“You have a son?” he asks Khione with a growl.
“N-no, of course not!” she cries out. “This is just some cleric. Obviously, Aphrodite is playing a game, and—”
“Was it Poseidon?”
Khione’s chest shakes with every ragged breath. “Of course not, Father! I’m still a maiden!”
“Khione, you have to claim him!” I plead.
“You!” She points a long, trembling finger at me as she sneers in disgust. “You will call me Princess Khione and will stop lying!”
I ignore her rage. “This is imperative! I’ve come from far away to give you this message. Aphrodite was clear that it’s urgent.”
“Then she toyed with you,” Khione responds. “She’s jealous of the unwanted attention her lovers give me. I’ve never given up my maidenhood.”
Alexander squeezes my hand and speaks up, “Aphrodite isn’t lying. She isn’t jealous. She is concerned for you and said that Poseidon wasn’t able to prevent this from happening.”
Wow, it seems he knows a lot more about this whole deal than I do. I suppose that makes sense. He can be programmed to keep a secret until it’s time to reveal it, while I might run my mouth off on accident.
Khione’s bottom lip trembles. She looks like she’s on the verge of tears, but it’s not out of fear or anger. No, this is heartbreak.
For as distraught as Khione looks, Boreas is the definition of rage. He’s the current King of Thrace, and he probably expected he would always be that. But if there was a prophecy that his grandson would kill him, then he would do everything in his power to prevent Khione from having a child.
Boreas grabs her by the wrist, causing her to gnash her teeth in pain. He twists her arm and flings her to the ground, all while keeping the tight grip on her wrist.
“You whore!” he shouts. “You’ve brought ruin on this house!”
“Father, please—”
With his free hand, he slaps her across the face. That’s when Alexander lets go of me and raises his shotgun. “Get your hands off her,” he growls at Boreas. I have never seen him angry, but his face twists in rage now. Where did this come from?
Boreas bares his teeth at Alexander. “A human cannot kill a god, boy.”
Alexander blinks and shakes his head. His eyes ping-pong between Boreas and Khione. Then, his features widen with realization. He lowers his Benelli, and his jaw drops.
He’s fully broken now.
“Are you okay, Alexander?” I whisper.
“I’m not Alexander,” he says. “I’m Eumolpus, immortal son of Khione and Poseidon.” He turns all his attention to Boreas. “Prophesied to kill my grandfather when I come to take his throne.”
Fucking what? He was Khione’s son all along? No wonder Aphrodite wanted me to stick to his side like glue.
But for Boreas’s throne, though? I know that the reason given to me was that Aphrodite cared about Eumolpus as the son of her friend, Poseidon, but that feels lacking.
Why wouldn’t she have simply sent him on his own, instead of with someone so closely monitored by Zeus.
If anything, I’d made it more difficult to deliver Khione’s son to him.
No, there’s some bigger reason for this to be my mission, and I think it somehow has something to do with me being her granddaughter.
Khione gasps. “You’re him?” The tears that threatened to spill before trail down her cheeks. “I see Poseidon in you now. He’s done so well raising you.”
With a roar, Boreas lets go of Khione and charges at Alexander.
He doesn’t even get a chance to unsheathe his sword.
Alexander simply raises his shotgun and fires into his grandfather’s chest and then his head.
The God of the Winter Wind had been so certain that Alexander couldn’t kill him.
He hadn’t counted on him being the product of divinity himself.
I don’t have time to process the ease of Boreas’s death. A chorus of swords and daggers unsheathing draws my attention. Every noble in this court has their violent eyes on Alexander and me.
Khione jumps to her feet and holds up a hand. “Stand down! This is my son! The new King of Thrace!”
She claimed him. This must mean my mission is over. Everything should be good—
My breath stops when I feel a sharp sting on my lower back. Suddenly, I feel something warm and wet saturate the back of my chiton.
“Wh-what’s happening?” I ask, my voice slurring as I see the sneering face of one of the noble NPCs right behind me. Will one of these minor NPCs be responsible for my death after I survived several of Zeus’s OP’d monsters? Really?
“Lauren!” Cait calls out and rushes to cradle me before I fall to the floor.
A nobleman raises his dagger to attack her while she’s distracted with me. However, Guy shouts, “Ice Blast!” and an icicle punctures the man’s forearm, causing a bone to protrude through his bloody flesh.
“I-I c-can’t move my hands,” I say, every vowel stretching like silly putty. My entire body feels cold and stiff now; my tongue tingles like I’m experiencing anaphylaxis.
Khione beckons at Cait. “She’s been attacked with a poisoned dagger. Pick her up and follow me!”
Cait hoists me over her shoulder. If I didn’t feel like I was turning into stone, I would appreciate how sexy it is that she can do this so easily. Guy rushes to her side.
“I have your back,” he says. “Just concentrate on getting her through this crowd.”
My body is so out of my control now that my head bobs up and down with every step Cait makes. It causes my vision to go from the red carpeted floor up to the battle between my allies and my enemies, down to the floor again, up to Alexander chasing after us, and back to the floor.
A door creaks open from Khione’s direction, and we all step through to a shadowy room.
“Lock the door,” Khione whispers, and Alexander does so.
“Can you heal her?” Cait asks as she sets me down on something soft.
It’s hard to feel much, but I can tell whatever surface I’m on gives under my weight. I try to look at my surroundings, but I can’t turn my neck, and I can barely move my eyes.
“No, I’m sorry,” Khione says. “If she’s who I think she is, then she should be able to heal herself now that she’s out of harm’s way.”
“Heal herself? She can’t even move!” Guy shouts.
Khione shushes him. “Keep your voice down. I don’t know who might hear.”
Cait yanks my staff off my back and places it into my hand, curling my fingers so that I’m cradling it with her help. “Just say the words, okay?”
“Ressss…” It’s hard to move my tongue in the right way to create the “T” sound.
I try again. “Ressssteraaaaa…” My tongue is so swollen that it’s hard to breathe, much less form words, but I have to keep trying.
“Ressssssss…terrrrrr…aaaaaa…shhh…shhh…on.” I did it.
I got the word “restoration” out. It sounds like I’m passing out at a bar, but it was the right word!
Sensation returns to my body, assaulting me with the prickles that come when your limb has fallen asleep. My fingers grip my staff without Cait’s help, and I’m slowly able to turn my head to take in the room.
This is a room for worship but to whom? Boreas was a god, and Khione is his daughter. Why would they pray to anyone?
I look down at the surface I’m lying on. It’s a raised table, as long and wide as a tall man, and covered with pillows and blankets.
I turn to Khione and ask, “What is this?”
The princess looks downward, whether from guilt or despair, I can’t tell. So, I don’t know how she feels when she answers, “It’s where a hero must be sacrificed.”
“What?” I ask and try to sit up, but the pain of the dagger in my back returns, and I cry in agony.
Guy touches my back. “I’m going to yank this out,” he says. “When I do, cast a healing spell.”
There’s no countdown, no warning at all, just a wall of white flooding my vision as pain lances through my entire spine.
I roar from the pain but somehow tighten my grip on the staff and shriek out the spell, “Heal Major Wound!”
My Soothing Grace favor washes its peace over me during the excruciating process of healing the open gash over one of my lower vertebras. If not for that, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. Even with this, I have to fight the urge to thrash around and scream at the top of my lungs.
Then, the pain is gone. Well, mostly. It still feels like there’s a sore spot on my back, but nothing worse than what I’d feel if I fell too hard.
Cait helps me pull up to a sitting position, and I take a moment to even my breathing. Then I look at Khione.
“Who the fuck are you sacrificing?”
Khione raises her hands up in surrender. “It was my father’s doing, but we haven’t sacrificed anyone yet.”
“Yet. So, you still plan to?” Cait asks.
“I-I have to,” Khione says. “But only if the hero asks to make the sacrifice.”