CHAPTER SEVEN #2
Despite the lateness of the hour, the passageway was filled with basilisks.
Caspen cast his gaze among them, searching for anyone willing to satisfy him.
The next woman to walk by stopped in her tracks.
A glance. That was all it took. A moment later the woman was facing the wall and Caspen was inside her.
It was nothing compared to the way Harmony looked from behind, but it was enough to make him come.
As soon as he finished, he kept walking toward the one place he could think to go to distract himself.
Caspen held his head high as he walked by other basilisks.
It did not matter that his brother had just humiliated him; it did not matter that the woman he wanted would never be his. All that mattered was the vials.
Unlike the altar room, where they worshipped Kora and performed the ritual, the vial room was devoid of seating and contained no decoration.
The focus was simply the twelve glass vials embedded into the stone wall.
Each vial contained its owner’s blood, which rose or fell based on their sexual activity.
It was a magical process for which there was no logical explanation.
His father’s words ran through his mind: Apollo has been rising in rank. I am surprised you are letting him. It was true; Apollo’s vial was nearly full. Not as full as Caspen’s, but fuller than it should be—all because of Harmony. Caspen sighed, taking a step back.
Twelve vials. Twelve basilisks.
Bastian’s vial was filled to the brim. It was always that way, given his status as the Serpent King.
Caspen’s was the next fullest, followed by Apollo.
After Apollo was Solomon, the highest-ranked Seneca and the father of Rowe and Eros.
Caspen’s own father had competed with Solomon for kingship but eventually secured the position of Serpent King when he became blood bonded to Caspen’s mother, Deltene.
Nothing could compete with a blood bond; it was the ultimate show of power.
To bind one’s life to another’s signified a depth of commitment and strength of will that could not be replicated or surpassed.
Caspen knew what his parents had done was rare.
Most basilisks would not risk binding their lives to another.
But Bastian had always been willing to do anything for power.
Caspen’s gaze fell to the name under Solomon. Kronos.
Caspen had never interacted with Kronos for longer than a simple conversation.
The Seneca was a mysterious figure under the mountain.
There had always been rumors about him, mostly regarding the strange arrangement of freckles on his palms. Some said that the Senecas held Kora’s favor—that their quiver was blessed with power the Drakons could not comprehend.
Such legends were ludicrous. If they were true, the Drakons would not have been in power for so long.
But Bastian believed them, and it only fueled his paranoia.
Caspen watched as the blood in Apollo’s vial rose. His chest tightened.
His brother was surely fucking Harmony again right this moment. In Caspen’s bed. Caspen tried not to picture them together but found it was impossible. He clenched his fists, drawing blood from his palms. He could not stay here all night, yet he also could not seem to move.
A voice broke him from his trance: “What troubles you, my son?”
Caspen turned to see his mother. Deltene was tall—nearly as tall as him—with long silver hair that fell over her shoulders in an unbroken curtain.
“Why do you assume something troubles me?”
His mother gestured elegantly at the vials. “You never come here. Are you worried about your rank?”
She was right; normally he would not be caught dead monitoring his progress so closely. Such insecurity was for basilisks of much lower rank, who fought for a spot in the middle. Caspen was consistently in the top three of the twelve ranked positions; he had been for decades.
“Apollo is with Harmony,” Caspen said simply.
“I see.” Deltene nodded.
There was no need to explain further; everyone under the mountain knew the situation between the Drakon brothers.
“You must guard your heart, Caspenon,” his mother said.
Caspen did not bother answering. It was far too late for that.
“Harmony knows neither of you will ever walk away,” she continued. “It gives her power.”
“I am aware of that, Mother.”
“You may be aware of it, but you should fear it.”
Caspen did fear it. He often thought about the hold Harmony had over him and Apollo. They were both indebted to her. It was dangerous; she had the power to break them. He dearly hoped she would not choose to wield it.
Deltene turned to him. “It is not a good time for the Drakons to be divided. We cannot allow the Senecas to ascend. Your father must defend the throne.”
Caspen rolled his shoulders. First his father, now his mother. Was there no end to the political lectures in this family? “If you think I do not understand what is at stake, you are wrong.”
His mother pursed her lips with worry. “Love can be dangerous, Caspenon.”
Caspen did not know if what he felt for Harmony was even love. There had been no one before her to compare to, and he doubted there would be anyone after. All he knew was that he would kill for her. If that was love, perhaps it was dangerous.
“Love corrupts the same way power does,” Deltene continued. “You must be careful.”
Something about her tone made him turn to her. “What do you mean?”
“You are young,” Deltene said. “You have not lived as I have. You have not seen what people will do for love. Often it is worse than what they will do for power.”
Caspen heard the sincerity in her voice, and it concerned him. He thought about how his father had been neglecting her lately, how Bastian was careless with his lovers. Caspen’s parents were bound together by blood, and their union was rare. It was something to be respected.
“How are you and Father?” Caspen asked.
Darkness flashed over his mother’s face.
Before she could answer, Kronos appeared beside her. Without a word, Deltene immediately walked away. As the wife of the Serpent King, she could not be seen in the company of a ranked Seneca. Kronos watched her go before addressing Caspen.
“Caspenon.” He bowed his head. “What brings you here?”
Caspen sighed. He could not explain himself one more time tonight. “Am I not allowed to be here?” he snapped.
Kronos raised an eyebrow, opting not to reply. Instead they stood in silence, watching the vials. Apollo’s had finally stopped rising; perhaps he and Harmony had gone to sleep. The thought cheered Caspen.
“May I ask you something?” Kronos said quietly.
Caspen turned to him. “You may.”
“I know you and your sister watch the village,” he said. “Where do you do it?”
Caspen frowned. He had not realized that their trips to observe the village had become common knowledge. It was not something he wanted to get back to his father.
“Why do you wish to know?”
Kronos crossed his arms, drawing himself up to his full height. “You may be the Serpent King’s son,” he said, his voice sharp, “but I do not owe you an explanation for my actions.”
His sudden change in tone took Caspen by surprise. It would seem that the testiness beneath the mountain had spread beyond his own family.
He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“You misinterpret my intent,” he said. “I am merely curious. If you do not wish to tell me, it is no business of mine.” He lowered his hands, and Kronos immediately relaxed.
“If you follow the path past the wall, turn left at the old oak tree. You will reach a hill with a view of the town square. That is where we watch.”
Kronos nodded, then bowed his head. “Thank you.”
He turned to leave, but Caspen grabbed his arm. “In exchange, I would appreciate your discretion.”
Kronos’s eyes flicked to his. He nodded again. “You have it.”
Then he left.
Caspen watched him go, processing their interaction.
It was the longest conversation he had ever had with Kronos, and it was a strange one.
What reason could he possibly have for wanting to watch the village?
Caspen thought about the timing of his request. The Showing was tonight—a tradition where the women would lie in the town square overnight to demonstrate their commitment to the prince.
There was no explicit rule forbidding the basilisks from watching it, but most teachers did not bother to watch their students.
Even Caspen had not done so in his entire history of training.
Who was Kronos’s student, and why did he care to observe her?
It made no sense. It took merely a moment to make his decision; if Kronos was going to sneak around, Caspen was going to follow him.
He remained in his human form until he was past the mirrored wall, at which point he transitioned into his true form.
He did the same anytime he came here with Agnes.
It was wise to protect oneself this close to the village, and petrification was their greatest protection.
The hill was not far, and the moment Caspen reached it, he spotted Kronos sitting at the very top.
He wore his human form, which Caspen considered a reckless choice.
But he was not here to protect the Seneca basilisk.
He was here to do his duty to his quiver.