Chapter Eight
Chloe
Polished cliffs lined the small inlet where Hespali’s port resided.
It appeared Grechi-made rather than the natural jagged edged caldera of Nexos Chloe was used to.
They rose into the heavens so high she could barely see where the top ended and the cloud-filled sky began.
An enormous archway framed the entrance to the inlet, each side sporting a marble statue of a dragon, wings flared to the side and a horn that appeared to be the size of two men.
Guards stood along parapets connecting both statues to what must have been tunnels leading into the city and castle.
In turn the horns sounded in alert of an approaching ship.
Chloe approached the helm where Kire stood, guiding them under the archway with ease, her magic doing more work than the ship.
The sea witch was a masterful sailor even without her gifts, but they had needed to arrive on these shores swifter than humanly possible with the looming war.
Kire’s powers were different from Nikolaos’s.
Where he could control and bend the will of the sea, she only sang to it in hopes that it would listen.
More often than not, it did. Still, between her proclivity for the waters and all that was held beneath, and the terrifying ability to appear out of the very mist in the air, she wondered if they were somehow related.
A cousin or, gods forbid, a child of her father’s that he left years before on the shores of Anatole.
Regardless of how Kire came to be endowed with such abilities, Chloe was grateful she made her way to Nexos and took up a friendship with the young princess five years ago.
“We are almost to the docks, Lo. I know your thea was expecting us, but should my crew be concerned that we might not be met with the…hospitality…that was promised?”
Chloe twisted her mouth to the side. Her aunt had assured them that the Parataxis would be allowed to enter port and that she would allow them an audience at court, but that could have simply been a way to lure them here before using them for ransom.
Or worse, giving them—particularly Farah—over to King Athanas and King Edmund Briarre.
“There is not a situation where I would meet my aunt unarmed, I will be honest. But, despite being the Goddess of Bloodshed, she hates death for the sake of death. Hopefully, that will work in our favor.”
“Well then, I will make sure to keep my wits about me.” The sea witch walked toward the rail overlooking the main deck, keeping the wheel steady with tendrils of the sea itself. “Men, prepare the line! We dock momentarily!”
The crew popped up from the chairs they sat upon, leaving their ale undrank and games still sprawled across barrels.
Moving in turn, each one went to their respective positions, be that the sails, or the port side of the ship, ready to toss line down to the dockhandlers when they eased their way in.
“Kire,” Chloe called, though her gaze remained cast out at the horizon. “I need a favor from you. I will take Farah inside alone and if we do not return by sundown, then we have at least convinced Avra to allow us to stay. You still have ties…to your former crew in Anatole?”
“The Plíroma Aímatos still answer to their leader, if that is what you ask.” Kire ran her fingers along her necklace and the sea seemed to hum in turn.
Chloe bit the inside of her cheek. “Would they fight for us?”
“They would fight for the highest bidder.”
“Fine,” Chloe replied. “Then that must be us.”
Chloe would not risk the lives of the men and women aboard this ship if they were met with animosity.
It was her task, her burden to bear alone—well, hers and the southern princess—but war was imminent and they needed more ships.
If Kire could use the time to sail to Anatole and collect even the most delinquent of men, it could mean all the difference.
“As you wish. But if anything happens to change your mind, you know how to call for me.”
The sea would spread their message need be, call to Kire and her father if things were truly that contentious with Avra.
But Chloe had hope, albeit a small amount, that her thea would not spur them, toss them in the dungeons to rot.
Her seer told her as much, though the outcome of what Iris’s vision dictated was no solution Chloe could bear.
Tapping her chest pocket, she made sure the small ring was still there.
The ship’s hull clambered against the wood of the dock as they made port.
She expected more people waiting for them—more guards, to be specific—but only one stood among the crowd of dockhands.
He was a tall gentleman, broad but somehow unassuming.
A smile crossed his face and his copper hair was tucked neatly into braids that lined the side of his head.
He waved, an odd greeting for a guard known to no one aboard the Parataxis.
“Welcome to Hespali, Your Highness, Captain!” he yelled up as Chloe and Kire made their way to the walking plank the deckhands had attached to the port side of the ship.
His gaze turned toward their left and his gray eyes flickered with the reflection of the sun. “And to you as well, Farah Athanas!”
The walk to Castle Hespali was long and, unfortunately for Chloe, uphill.
She could run for hours in the flat woods of Nexos, taking limited breaks especially in her wolf form, but parading up a mountain for the same amount of time—torture.
It did not help that the guard who led them along the pathway was utterly silent the entire way.
He hadn’t spoken a single word since first greeting them on the docks, which sent Chloe’s mind racing.
That first line was friendly enough, but she could never be certain when it came to her thea’s rule, especially after Iris’s vision of what may occur.
Either they would fail and Farah would be shipped back to Morentius to marry some vial brute of a man, or Avra would select a match here at court, neither of which was an acceptable outcome for the southern princess.
Even if Chloe didn’t particularly enjoy the woman’s company, no one should be forced into marriage with someone that could be cruel.
The doors to the castle loomed ahead, wrought with iron and swirling markings of dragons similar to the stone-carved creatures at port.
They were deep within the mountain range now, and Chloe understood why this kingdom was one of the only not to be attacked a century ago in the Peloponnian War.
It was fortified, hidden, a true keep built from the stone of the mountains themselves.
One would need to destroy worlds to send this place to rubble.
Fog loomed along the end of the path, swirling up toward the cliffs that lined the remainder of their walk. The air was different up here, cleaner and crisp against her tongue. Though in turn, her breathing had become more strained with every mile.
Before them, despite no other guards present, the doors of the castle creaked open. Even with Chloe’s heightened sense, she could not see past the entryway.
“This is where I leave you,” the guard spoke, and Chloe leapt slightly at the break in his silence.
“Leave us?” she asked. “Is there someone who will take us to the queen?”
The guard shook his head with a chuckle before pulling his hood back up over his head. “The magic will lead you, exádelfos.” With that, the man pushed them both inside.
“What does that mean!” Farah yelled as the doors to the castle slammed shut, leaving them alone inside its walls.
Exádelfos? Chloe had no cousin. Was that some strange term the guards here used, like brother and sister in arms?
Spinning around, Chloe adjusted her eyes to the low light, attempting to take in her surroundings.
She had seen this corridor before, the gaudy statues and daunting candelabras hung on the walls, which meant only one thing.
The wedding would take place here, at the castle, unless Chloe changed fate herself.
She reached into her cloak pocket, pulling out the piece of jewelry she had kept close since leaving Nexos.
It would protect Farah from whatever Avra had planned. It was the only way.
“I need you to wear this.” Chloe shoved the etched metallic ring toward Farah’s hands, but the princess only recoiled a step.
“Excuse me?” Farah stammered, shaking uncontrollably. “We just got locked inside a castle, why are you showing me some piece of jewelry at a time like this? We should be planning an escape…or I guess trying to find your aunt? Fates, what even just happened with that guard?”
“Gods dammit, Farah, calm down and just put the ring on.” Why was the southern princess so unbelievably difficult?
“You must understand, little wolf, that I am not particularly inclined to accept jewelry from others considering what I’ve seen my father and his pet of a Voreian king do.”
Ah, yes, the gold shackles and bracelets and other accessories that stunted the Grechi’s power. Apparently they worked on sorcerers as well by the sweat beading between Farah’s brows.
“This is a metal found only on Nexos and I assure you it has no power other than beauty residing in it. See—tiny sapphires and diamonds, that is all.” She held the intricate piece up to Farah’s eyeline.
“I do not trust any sort of wear that comes from the hands of those who are not mortal. Sorry, little wolf. Maybe another time.” She shooed Chloe’s hands away and made to step around her, but Chloe latched her grip around the princess’s arm.
“Do you trust me?” Her voice cracked slightly on the words, shaking as erratically as her hand that held the ring.
Farah’s eyes narrowed and her lips curled up in a snarl. “I am not sure that I do.”
Fair. Their relationship—if you could call it that—was tumultuous at best and spiteful at worst. But this was not about the two of them. This was about Avra.
“Do you trust me more than my aunt?” Chloe asked, breathless.
For a long moment, too long of a moment at that, Farah stood staring at her. The southern princess’s eyes roamed her face in assessment, trailing down to her lips then back up to her eyes. “I suppose.”
“Then wear the stupid ring, katáskopos.”
Snatching the ring from Chloe’s hand, Farah let out a huff. “Fine, but I am giving it back as soon as we are done with this meeting.” She slid the piece on her right ring finger before stomping away, muttering something Chloe could not discern.
“Unfortunately, Princess, that ring might never come off,” the wolf whispered to the wind circling around her.
Avra wouldn’t let it.
Ever.