Chapter 10 #2
“I think he was trying to apologize for holding me captive.”
“. . . for what?”
“Oh, you weren’t there,” I realized, chuckling, “He held me at knife point to escape the guards. Threatening to kill them with my blood if they attacked.”
I expected Eleos to find the story amusing, but his brows lowered and his eye twitched. “And Percy didn’t stop him?”
“What was Percy supposed to do? It was dark. I don’t think he realized it was his old friend.”
Eleos released an exhale lined with disgust. “Knowing Percy, he was too busy envying you.”
“Me? Or Seth?”
“Both,” Eleos corrected. “Was it at least a decent apology, then?”
I paused, thinking. “Not really, no. I think he implied it was my fault for being so conveniently vulnerable.”
“Right,” Eleos said with contempt. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He leaned closer. “I don’t know if I like him. He gives off . . . an unstable air.”
“He’s a vigilante murderer. I’d be surprised if he didn’t.”
Mouth twitching, Eleos looked away. He was upset about something, but I wasn’t sure what. Seth’s willingness to put innocents in danger, perhaps. Psyches were known to be bleeding hearts, after all.
My nose wrinkled. Maybe I had guessed wrong, placing Ainwir as a psyche. The goddess Psythos would never turn her gaze toward a selfish thief whose only interest was lining his pockets.
A scent from my childhood caught my nose: nuts and fresh pastry. Grabbing Eleos’ wrist, I guided him toward a tiny shop and pushed open the door.
Heat wafted from the oven tucked in the back, and displays of baked goods sat on thin plates. Ainwir had taken me to this bakery often—he’d loved it.
I remembered the woman behind the counter, though her hair had grayed. Sharp nose, soft eyes, blonde hair. Every time we’d visit, she’d smile and hide an extra treat in my bag. Did she remember me?
No. Not a hint of recognition appeared in her eyes. I bought two pastries and watched her turn her back, oblivious to the little girl whose day had been made lighter by her food.
A painful reminder of how little I mattered to anyone.
Swallowing the sorrow, I handed one of the wrapped pastries to Eleos and stepped back outside. “Ever had one of these?” I asked.
“No.” He turned it over. “What is it?”
“A heavenly stack of syrup and nuts,” I answered, popping it into my mouth. “Nobody should leave Serifos without one.”
Chuckling, Eleos savored the pastry as if it were a gift from the king. “Mm. I see why you like them.”
Taking slow bites to make the moment last, I took in the city I once called home.
A towering statue of the Maiden Brizo rose above the roofs, hands spread, water trickling through her fingers in streaming fountains that framed the temple she presided over. I’d seen the elegant edifice, its vaulted ceilings and numerous pillars countless times, yet never set foot inside.
Eleos stared at it in awe. I nudged him. “Never been to Serifos before?”
“Only passed through,” he confirmed. “I’ve heard their library dwarfs the other cities—they house every kind of scholar. Agricultural, religious, geological . . .” He rattled off a few more names, but I didn’t really hear them.
The excitement in his eyes was infectious, especially since he often appeared perfectly emotionless. I wanted to pull his mask off to see his face in full; men were never more handsome than when gushing about their greatest passions.
Leading Eleos away from the market, I turned west and headed toward the library.
“Did you join a Scholarly House?” I asked. “Or did you never have a proper job?”
“History,” he said. “There are fascinating stories buried in old tomes. Maps of dead countries, wars no one remembers.” His sage-green eyes lit up. “Did you know Cynthus was famed for its theater? They used to perform something called ‘rain dances.’”
My lips tugged upward as I watched him light up.
“They even had their own gods.” He waved his hands wildly. “Most people did.” His eyes locked on me. “Did you ever hear the tale of the Forgotten—” He paused. “What?”
My smile spread into a grin. “Nothing. What were you saying?”
“The Forgotten Battlefield.” He toyed with his bracers. “It’s the only one that wasn’t swallowed by the Empty. Numerous suits of armor and old blades riddle the fields, but no one knows who the soldiers were, or what they fought for.”
“Oh. I hadn’t heard of that.” My smile vanished. Dead men and women, forgotten by the world itself. The thought made me sad.
“I always wanted to solve that mystery,” Eleos continued. “What was the war about? What would those soldiers think, to know they fought a pointless skirmish for dead kingdoms?” He looked up sharply. “Did I bring down the mood?”
I shook my head and grabbed his arm. “Look there.”
Following my gaze, his back straightened. A beautiful promenade flanked by marble statues led to the library, a towering building surrounded by rows of decorative pillars.
I tilted my head toward it. “You should visit. Might be your last chance.”
“But—”
“I’ve shopped here a thousand times. I could do it in my sleep.” I nudged him. “Go on. I’ll find you when I’m done.”
Guilt briefly flashed over Eleos’ face before he drank in the library: a simple, but elegant building whose sides were carved with likenesses of the three lesser gods.
“Thank you.” Eleos nearly tripped over both his words and himself. “I’ll be quick.” He took a step, then whirled around and caught my wrist. “I’m not supposed to leave you.”
“The Guild doesn’t attack people in broad daylight. Even if they caught me, at worst, I’d be thrown in a brothel. That was Laverna’s favorite threat.”
My attempt to reassure him had the opposite effect. His fingers tightened around my wrist. “Never mind. I’m staying with you.”
“Maiden’s grace. I was joking. I’ll only be gone for half an hour.” Pushing him, I encouraged him to go.
I wasn’t joking, and trying to deceive a psyche was a foolish mistake. He read the truth on my face with ease. “Lady Aethra . . .”
“I’ll be fine. I promise.”
His severe expression eased. “Alright,” he said reluctantly. “Half an hour,” he swore, finally turning away.
Smiling, I watched him run up the steps and disappear through the great doors. Adjusting my bag, I turned on my heel and returned to the markets. Balancing on the patterned stone bordering the waterway, I watched my reflection in the water.
Water. Ainwir had asked me exactly once what I wanted out of life. At age fifteen, I’d blurted out a silly answer, but in the eight years since, it had never changed.
I wanted a house on a lake, or maybe a river. A loving husband and two children. That was all.
It was such a tiny thing, but anything we’d never have seemed like a wonderful dream. Unattainable. Distant. A paradise far out of reach.
Lifting my head, my gaze caught on a stall selling flowers. Wandering over, I examined the collection of petals, noticing a pale blue bloom sitting by its lonesome, without a bouquet to keep it company.
Wishing I could justify wasting coin on frivolous blossoms, I ran my fingers under its petals and admired its beauty. As a child, I’d pick flowers and weave them for Ainwir. Sometimes he’d humor me and wear the little crowns on his head.
“Like that one, do you?”
Startled, I turned to see a man standing beside me. Wearing a wealthy burgundy coat and a matching red and white mask, it was plain to see he was a nobleman. Wavy hair the color of wine tumbled past his neck, resting below his collar in a neat bond.
Retracting my hand from the flower, I smiled, glancing at the florist. “It’s beautiful.”
Reaching into a satchel at his waist, the nobleman pulled out a gold coin and passed it to the florist. The woman’s eyes flew open, and she happily accepted the rich payment for so small a thing.
The stranger plucked the blue flower and tucked it in my hair. I tensed when he touched me. “It suits you, Aethra.”
I froze, studying his features, trying to discern if I knew him. The mask concealed his entire face, with slits for his eyes alone. Eyes that matched Eleos’: sage green.
He leaned in, whispering in my ear. “Care to walk with me?”
“I’d rather not,” I spoke in a whisper.
The masked man lifted his gaze to the library behind us. “Would you like your friend to return to your inn alive?”
Blood running cold, I stiffened and nodded.
“Good.” He smiled. “Come with me.”
Pretending everything was fine, I followed the man, eyes tracing over his back in a desperate bid to find any clues as to his identity. He did not wear the insignia of the Guild.
We stopped beside a less-traveled channel that flowed beneath bridges connecting the streets. A gondola approached, empty save for its driver, who slowed the boat until it rested before us.
Beckoning to the empty seats, the masked man looked at me expectantly.
Normally, I’d seek escape. Boarding a vessel like this would guarantee an unfortunate end. Noticing my hesitance, the masked man calmly glanced up the road toward the library, silently reiterating his threat.
I couldn’t know who he worked with, how many of them hid in the shadows. Assassins could be perched all around the city, waiting to strike. Swallowing my fear, I stepped into the gondola and accepted my fate.