Chapter 17 #2
Slipping an arm behind my back, Seth pulled me against his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around me. Feeling the warmth of another body, I instinctively pressed myself closer to him, inhaling the scent of rain permeating his clothes.
Noticing us, Whisper stood and curled up by our side, a pile of wet fur I’d need to wash again. Seth shrugged his cloak around both of us. The black fabric tumbled around my shoulders, sealing out the biting wind.
I could feel his heartbeat, slowing from a rapid thump to a steady beat. Strands of his hair brushed my face, and his chest rose and fell beneath me. It was far too intimate a moment for my liking, but such times were the perfect chance to ask questions otherwise ignored.
“When I saved Percy,” I said quietly, “You looked horrified.”
Seth’s muscles tensed, his arms tightening around me.
“Why?” I pressed. “That madman looked elated. Eleos was awed. So was Percy.”
I felt Seth’s chin brush over my hair as he looked away, but he remained silent.
“You’re very impassioned about what you do,” I continued, “And my magic proving to be false made you-”
He exhaled heavily. “People want a savior they can foist their burdens onto. They would martyr you in an instant to save themselves.” He laughed bitterly. “They’d martyr you even if you had no magic at all—just to see if it worked.”
Reading between his words, I twisted to face him. “You knew someone. Someone who supposedly-”
“Yes.” He barked harshly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Shifting away from him, I fell silent. Water dripped from my hair onto the cavern floor, a sound swallowed by the raging storm. Hardly anyone in the Merchant Isles studied the Empty, let alone theorized it could be channeled by mages.
Who had he known before?
Everything in his past was still a mystery.
Wind howled into the cavern, digging into my soaking back like a volley of arrows. Shaking, I wrapped my arms around myself.
Scowling, Seth leaned forward and grabbed my waist. “Stop trying to freeze to death.” He murmured, dragging me back under his cloak.
He wrapped his arms around me, tucking me safely against his chest. Trapping my legs between his, he left me without an inch of space to myself, but with his heat radiating over me like a furnace, I decided I didn’t mind.
“I don’t know why I was angry,” his voice was soft, “I’m glad you aren’t what they think. Let the people go back to hoping their Maiden will save them. At least they aren’t hurting you.”
“The nobleman,” I said, “He thought they’d hate me, not celebrate me.”
“He’s right. The clergy would be divided, I think.
” Seth leaned his head against the wall, thinking.
“A schism would form. Some would brand you a heretic. Others would proclaim you chosen of the Maiden, not a defiance of her existence. Half the world would kill you, half would martyr you. Dead, either way.”
Closing my eyes, I listened to the rumbling thunder. “Do you think it was all a mistake? Or did I fail?”
Seth pondered my question quietly. “Magic requires a state of mind. Intent.” Lifting his right arm, he turned over his palm. “Chthonics cannot merely spill blood and cast what they like.”
“How does it work?”
Flexing his hand, Seth wrapped it back around me. “I’m sure Seraphim’s is different. Everyone’s is. For me, I remember the way I felt when magic first came to me.” He paused. “The risk of death didn’t matter. Submitting to the void was better than lying down and doing nothing.”
Whisper crawled forward, laying his big head on my foot, ears soaked and pressed to his head. Feeling a little better, I tried to relax. “Do you know how Percy’s magic works? He tried to explain it, but. . .”
Seth chuckled. The rumble in his chest was comforting. “He’s horrible at explaining anything. Best I can tell, he creates sound and controls people with it. Mournful dirges, terrifying noises, haunting chants. . . save we feel the effects tenfold.”
“I’m still not sure I understand.”
“Ask a different muse. One who thinks about more than whichever woman happened to pass him last.”
Extracting my arm from his grip, I held it out. “How would mine work, then?”
“I don’t know,” Seth admitted. “To stop the Empty. . . would you need to embody life? Or, maybe hope?”
Hope. Eleos had spoken to me of hope in the fields around Serifos. His eyes had shone with faith rarely glimpsed in others. I couldn’t let him down.
Resolve washed over me as I stared at my palm. “When the storm clears, I’m going to try again.”
“Aethra-”
“What does the danger matter? They’re all gone. Like you said, the Maiden’s Bloodstone was probably as false as I am.”
He sighed. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, you did.”
He tensed beneath me and slowly relaxed. “Fine. But if I think you’re in danger, I’m dragging you away.”
“I’ll never learn if you stop me from trying.”
“I don’t care.” He said curtly. “And you don’t stand a chance against me in a fight, so it will be all too easy to manhandle you. There’s no point in arguing.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but snapped it closed.
Dammit. He was right. If only I’d been a traditional thief, adept at scaling walls and fleeing from guards, maybe I’d be a half-decent fighter.
Exhaling, I buried myself against him, craving warmth, wanting nothing more than to collapse and pretend nothing had just happened. Laying my head against his chest, I listened to his heartbeat.
Memories swirled in my head. The screams, the child, the deaths.
Eleos. He’d risked his life to save another, and I’d abandoned him to his fate. Tears brewed in my eyes, and I sniffled, desperately trying to wipe them away.
Seth ran a hand through my hair and tucked my head beneath his chin. “The scholar’s right. You’re too hard on yourself,” he sighed, “and my inability to express myself isn’t helping.”
“You expressed yourself just fine.”
“No. I said everything but what I meant,” he paused, nudging me in an attempt to cheer me up. “Percy used to call me emotionally constipated. You would have loved watching him try to get me to open up. Did you know he serenaded me, once?”
I chuckled, wiping the last tear from my eye. We listened to the storm in silence until he spoke again.
“I stole you a damn good horse, princess.”
Breaking into a grin, I opened my eyes and stared at the blonde mare lying beside us. “I suppose she’s earned a name.”
* * *
Though I fell asleep in frigid cold, I woke in pleasant warmth. Heat surrounded me like an inviting blanket, and I longed to simply close my eyes and drift off again. Consciousness found me, despite my wishes.
Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I slowly roused, stretching my limbs. My leg swept over someone else’s, and my fingers flexed around what felt like a firm bicep. The mattress beneath my head rose and fell. Breathing.
Pressing my palms to the cold cavern floor, I raised myself up off of Seth and glanced around. Our tiny cavern had weathered the storm, and rain had ceased falling. Yellow light rose over the horizon as morning arrived.
I should have moved, but I loomed over him like a creeping witch come to steal his soul.
Morning sunlight danced across his tanned face, drawing my attention across his sharp features and prominent collarbone.
An impulse to trace a finger across his jaw and down his neck consumed me.
I gasped when I noticed my hand had lifted from the ground to do just that of its own volition.
Seth woke, eyes drifting from my face to my chest. Still soaked through, my dress clung to my body, leaving little to the imagination.
“Not a bad thing to wake up to.” He mumbled, openly ogling my breasts.
Crawling off him, I nearly hit my head on the opposite wall. Cursing, I stumbled outside, wringing the water from my hair and clothes. My curls fell in limp, pathetic clumps at my shoulders when I finished, and I felt like a sorry, wet mutt.
Seth emerged after me, shaking his hair and brushing it back. His ebony waves fell neatly around his face, curling around his ears and framing his eyes perfectly. A smirk traced his lips, as though he were well aware of his effortless perfection.
“You know,” I said, brushing my hair out with my fingers. “You never apologized for the way we met.”
“Didn’t I?” he tilted his head, thinking.
“Not well.”
“Hm.” He smiled. “I’ll do you one better. Thank you for being such a good hostage. You performed your role admirably.” He bowed his head respectfully.
“. . . why does Percy like you?”
“You should drink with us sometime. I’ve been told I’m hilarious.”
“It takes more than words to impress me. I was raised to have a silver tongue.” Not the best retort, but I wasn’t in the mood for clever words. Ducking back into the cave, I took my horse’s reins and led her outside.
Seth patted her neck. “What’s the good steed’s name, then?”
“Athena.”
“It suits her.” He rubbed her nose and studied me. “You know, mounting and riding would be easier if you wore pants.”
“I am.” Parting my skirt, I revealed the thin hose that covered my upper thighs.
“Those are not pants, princess. We’re traveling. Fighting. Shouldn’t you wear something more practical?”
“Can’t a girl feel pretty in the middle of the woods?” I asked, hiking up my skirt as I attempted to mount by myself. Sticking a foot in the stirrups, I bounced on my other leg, building, if not momentum, then courage.
Hauling myself up, I managed to swing my leg around and seat myself in the saddle. Seth whistled. “Maybe she doesn’t need pants, after all.” Throwing his pack over his shoulder, he mounted behind me.
I leaned forward when his chest touched my back, and his legs trapped mine against the horse’s flank. “Eleos said the one not holding the reins sits behind, not in front.”
“Normally, I’d agree.” Seth took the reins and gently ordered Athena forward. “But it’s easier to stop you from recklessly throwing yourself into danger if you’re in front of me.”
Shifting awkwardly, I tried not to notice every inch of him touching every inch of me. We’d been too close for too long, and I was starting to like it.
Seth hummed. “Now you look emotionally constipated.”
Chortling, I sat back against him. We’d both woken this morning and attempted levity, but our words felt hollow. Knitting my fingers together, I stared up at the faint smudge of black I could see in the sky.
“Do you think. . .” I trailed off.
“We can try, princess. Nothing more.”
“And if it doesn’t work? If I’m a farce?”
“We look for the others.”
Biting my lip, I asked the question I didn’t want to consider. “What if they’re gone?”
“You saw what happened back there,” Seth said softly. “Life no longer dispels the empty. Our time runs short. We carry on in their names, or we perish with everyone else.”