Chapter Three
Chloe
The Iron Wolf was a seedy little taverna a few minutes up the road, carved right into the caldera of the isle itself. It was frequented by merchants and pirates alike and most certainly by her brother, Dimitris, who ran up a tab so high one night their father had to drag him out himself.
Chloe despised the place. Found it to be primitive and more like the rowdy places on Lesathos than the usual establishments filled with the unique and substantive culture of Nexos.
And worst of all it smelled—more foul than the stables or the pig sties in the farmlands if Chloe was being quite honest.
The entryway of the Iron Wolf was rightfully covered in two planked wooden doors bolted with thick wrought iron.
Metal curled into the detailing of vines and trees, leading up the doors to the cast crescent moon embossed into the stone.
Grasping the two round handles, Chloe pushed hard and the doors swung into a lantern-lit cave.
Smoke swirled in the air around her, emanating from short curved pipes hung from patrons' mouths. In Nexos, they didn’t smoke the mind-altering drug, but rather a narrow-tipped leaf that grew on the isle, kapna.
Chloe didn’t mind the head rush sensation of the plant, nor the way it made her blood stream tingle, but the smell.
Gods, that smell was atrocious. It clung to your hair and clothes long after being washed, but it was a frequent habit amongst sailors on the isle.
It only took moments for Chloe’s eyes to adjust to the dim light.
She scanned the room for Farah, half expecting her to be hidden under a cloak or sunk into one of the dark booths near the back of the establishment.
Instead, she sat dead center, empty goblets and a deck of cards strewn about the table.
All but two individuals that sat near her snickered and flipped around coins, each tattooed and clad in the garb of one of the mercenary ships of Nexos, their emblem of the crescent moon pierced by a single arrow stitched above their chests.
Stomping over to the table, Chloe willed the animalistic urge to shift and drag the princess away with her teeth. The lawless snake should’ve learned better over the years, but Farah was never one to adhere to what she was told.
It used to be endearing when they were younger, but now it was infuriating.
“What in the gods’ names are you doing here?!” Chloe seethed, her teeth clenched tight as she spoke.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Farah waved her hands around the table in a childlike manner. “Playing cards, obviously.”
“More like disrespecting your duties!” This woman, who did she think she was?
“Would you like some rum? It might calm you down a bit,” Farah slurred, waving her goblet in Chloe’s face.
“It is not even the sun’s peak!” Swatting the metal cup away, Chloe leaned in, taking a sniff at Farah’s breath. “And yet, somehow, you are piss drunk!”
The southern princess chuckled and leaned back, sliding a bit down in her chair. “And your point isss, leetle wool-fa?”
“My point is, you were supposed to be at the docks. Fates, if I found you packing for our journey that would have been one thing”—Chloe plucked Farah’s arm off the table and dropped it back down with a thud—“but instead you are here drowning in liquor, barely cognizant.”
“Correction, Your Highness. Drowning in liquor and good company.” Farah scowled before pointing to the man and woman on either side of her.
They were both scantily clad in the usual attire of this establishment, the man in snug breeches and an unbuttoned shirt, the woman in a black diaphanous dress barely covering her nipples.
Each stunning, in the sort of way daimons could be stunning, wicked and luring.
Chloe stared down the man. “Leave,” she growled, giving the same command to the woman on the opposing side. They stood, limbs moving not of their own accord, walking toward the door and straight out to the chilled winter beyond.
“Well, you are no fun.” Farah tsked and waved her finger in the air. “Can’t a girl indulge in spirits and”—she leaned toward Chloe and brushed an escaped tendril of hair behind her ear—“other things.”
“Keep your sticky rum hands out of my hair. And yes, you are allowed to do whatever you wish in this kingdom except when you have duties to attend to. Meeting at the docks is a tradition my people do not take lightly, and if Dimitris and Thalia meet anything but clear and calm waters it will be your fault.”
Farah snorted. “Superstitions are believed to…” Hiccup. “And from the looks of your scrunched up face and pestering scowl neither do you.”
“That doesn’t even make sense!” Chloe scoffed. Did this woman drink so much already that she couldn’t speak in coherent sentences?
“You don’t make sensssse,” Farah slurred once more and attempted to stand.
The princess tumbled forward, catching her foot between the leg of the table and the chair and falling right into Chloe.
Farah’s arms collapsed against Chloe’s chest and instinctively she steadied the southern princess.
A buzz tingled along where Chloe’s hands met clammy skin, radiating toward her core. This woman was absolutely infuriating.
“We are leaving,” Chloe commanded, though Farah, now holding steady with one hand gripped on the worn table, did not move.
“I think I’d rather stay. Barkeep,” she called, holding up one of her fingers, “could we get two more mugs over here?”
“Absolutely not,” Chloe hissed through clenched teeth. “I repeat, we are leaving. If my mother and father get wind of this…”
Why again was she not the one charged with aiding Thalia?
Dimitris would have been much better suited to who Farah had become after these years—a gambling spy who apparently took little care with her work.
Even on their journey to rescue Alexander she had been reckless with her safety and everyone around her.
The southern princess lacked the capacity to follow directives and keep a low profile.
The exact opposite personality of any spy Chloe had worked with before.
How had Ajax kept his favorite katáskopos a secret all these years?
“Your mother and father will do nothing. They are already sending us to our deaths, why not enjoy the time we have left.” Arching one brow and tilting her lips into a smirk, Farah said, “I do believe I remember a few…activities…you used to enjoy.”
The muscles in Chloe’s back tensed as she straightened her back and stoned her face. No note. No goodbye. Nothing but a cold and empty bed. “We are not being sent to our deaths, Farah. We are being sent to court to negotiate like the diplomats my parents believe us to be. Now act like it.”
“Clearly your mother has left out—”
“We are going, Farah. Grab your cloak and whatever else you brought to this lurid establishment and head to your room.”
A twitch formed in Farah’s upper lip. “I do not take orders from you.”
Sending up a tiny prayer to the Grechi for the smallest bit of patience, Chloe whispered, “Do not make me do this, Farah.”
The southern princess stood firm, reaching her hand out to the barkeep who had returned with two more mugs of what looked to be bitter ale rather than rum.
Clutching one in her hand, Farah brought it to her lips and chugged the whole thing dry, letting out a tiny burb as she slammed the empty mug down.
“That is it! I am done with this nonsense,” Chloe growled.
She stepped toward Farah, pinching the princess’s chin between her thumb and pointer finger.
Eyes dilating, Chloe crooked her head slightly.
“You will leave with me now, return to the castle, pack your things, and be on the Parataxis tomorrow morning.”
The tension in Farah’s features lessened and she nodded, but as the princess began to walk toward the door as Chloe commanded, she stumbled once more over her feet. This day could not possibly get any worse.
“Alright, katáskopos, you’re not going to like this.” Chloe grabbed Farah around the waist and hoisted her up over her shoulder, clutching behind her knees to lock the princess in place.
“Is this how you treat all nobility who come to your isle?” Farah questioned as she squirmed, attempting to break loose from Chloe’s hold.
Chloe only gripped tighter and strode with ease toward the door, opening it with her other hand and stepping back into the shimmering sunlight of the Nexian markets.
After a moment, Farah relaxed. “I wouldn’t have thought you were capable of hauling me all the way to the castle,” she muttered.
Letting out a small laugh, Chloe whispered more into the chilled air of Nexos than to Farah, “I am a goddess, you have no idea what I am capable of.”