Chapter 25
Alexios
The walk through Galatas is taking longer than we expected, because all the locals we pass want to wish us luck and shake our hands. Well, wish Lyssa luck. I’m eyed with suspicion, and in many cases the derision a single man on Cancer is deemed worthy of.
We’re stopped constantly as we walk through the crowded area of tavernas and shops, and only a little less so as we make our way to the east of the settlement through the big white housing blocks.
By the time we reach the quieter, greener houses on the edge of Galatas, most of the well-wishers have dissipated. The peacocks, however, have increased in number.
I’m starting to understand Len’s issue with them; I haven’t seen one smaller than he is.
The birds amble around us as we walk, the bright blue of their bodies standing out against their fanned green tails.
The eyes in their plumage keep drawing my gaze as I walk down the immaculate, shiny white streets.
“Len’s right, they are kind of creepy,” Lyssa says, eyeing the closest bird.
“They’re beautiful,” says Epizon.
“You would say that,” she says to him. “You see the best in everything.”
I grin at her. “I remember you saying you found peacocks beautiful at the feast.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Nope, I don’t think so. I recall implying that they strut around, parading their shiny bits for attention. I do not remember saying they are beautiful.”
“Well, I’m sure we can be forgiven for remembering things differently.”
Danger flashes in her eyes, and a thrill whirls through my body. Why do I feel this inexorable urge to irritate this woman? Usually I feel an inexorable urge to escape company, fear of boredom and being contained driving me fast onto the next group. Bassari and I travel alone. But this woman…
Pushing her is dangerous, though. I know it is. The consequences of someone discovering what I’ve done to her, how vulnerable I’ve made her, are real, and lethal. And she is no actress. Her angry heart is spread across her sleeve, her morals and beliefs unquestionable to anyone looking.
Guilt prickles at me, and I force it down.
I work with what I’ve got. And I had to be in the Trials.
And it worked. Here I am.
“I suppose peacocks are better than those sycophantic idiots we’ve spent all morning pushing our way through,” Lyssa mutters, staring at the huge bird now walking along beside us.
“You use that word a lot.”
“Yeah? Well, clearly I have cause to.”
“You don’t think you should embrace their support of you?”
She snorts. “It’s nothing but a game to them. Entertainment. It’s disgusting.”
“I think we should encourage support for our cause,” says Epizon.
“No. My past is not a drama for them to follow,” she mutters.
Epizon looks at her levelly. “It already was, before we started this,” he says softly. “Having people believe in you, and in the downfall of Hercules, can only be a good thing. There’s strength in numbers.”
“Maybe,” she says after a beat, and kicks at a few dry twigs on the ground. The peacock makes an alarmed clicking sound as a twig lands near it, then saunters away.
“They may be listening, or watching now,” I remind her. “You shouldn’t risk alienating them.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she snaps, then plasters on a fake smile and adds, “Darling.”
“Sorry, sweetie.” I’m unable to choke down the laugh at the disgust on her face. “Okay, back to darling, then.”
After a few more minutes, we reach a gap in the houses, just as the old dockmaster told us we would, an impenetrable-looking forest beyond.
It’s a dark tangle of trees, roots, plants, and mossy rocks, and I turn and look back past the white towers to where the Alastor is moored.
I can just see it in the distance, silver light rippling across her solar sails.
“The dockmaster says there’s a harpy settlement between us and the lion’s lair, but if we want to give the harpies a wide berth, we’ll lose time,” Epizon says.
“We don’t have time to lose.”
“We also don’t have limbs to lose, captain.”
“Fine. We’ll skirt around the settlement, as close as is safe.”
Epizon nods and unstraps the knife from his thigh.
“Let’s go,” Lyssa says, and we push our way into the thick foliage.
It’s clear folk don’t often enter the forests on Cancer, as there are no paths or accommodations made for travelers. It’s much darker than in the town, the tall tree canopies blocking most of the bright Cancer light.
Epizon goes ahead, his long coat protecting him from branches, his big knife hacking a way through the thick lower branches that block the way. “I knew I’d need my coat,” he tells Lyssa.
I’d rather take the scratches from the foliage than be any hotter than I am. Thick humidity makes everything damp, and I wipe sweat from my brow for the hundredth time.
Huge plants growing from amongst the tangle of roots on the ground sprout leaves almost as big as I am, and I move around the ones Epizon hasn’t hacked away, unwilling to disturb them more than I have to.
The forest is alive with noises, birds calling and twigs cracking and insects buzzing. I’m fairly sure there’s nothing too dangerous native to Cancer’s forests, other than the man-eating lion we know is here somewhere.
The smell in the air changes from damp and earthy to something much less pleasant, and Epizon slows to a stop. We all look up at the dark canopy of trees.
“Harpies,” mutters Lyssa.
“What happens if they see us?” I ask.
“Not got much experience with harpies?” she says to me, as though it’s an accusation.
I spread my hands, but Epizon answers before I can retort.
“It depends if we’re on their land or not. If we’re not, then they’ll probably just throw feces at us,” he says.
I scowl. “Lovely. And if we are on their land?”
“They’ll kill us,” Lyssa says.