13. Raithe
Raithe
“Easy, girl.”
The winds of Gemini battered against Cobalt’s broad wings. Air kingdoms were notorious for their gusts that were capable of felling trees and crashing skyships. As soon as we’d flown through the arch into Gemini, Cobalt had reared in bewilderment at the unforgiving squall.
“It’s alright, we’re alright,” I assured her, gripping the reins tightly.
While I had been in Gemini only once before for King Zephyr’s ceremonial trial and subsequent coronation last year, this was the furthest north Cobalt had ever ventured.
Her breed of Pegasus was born in a territory south of the Equator—Libra—and bred for more moderate climates like Scorpio.
The journey had been uneventful thus far, with us having flown low enough to evade most royal patrols. Only one patrol got too close for comfort, soaring overhead on a Hippogriff in the direction of the arch we’d come through. Thankfully, a string of cumulus clouds concealed us from their sight.
It was odd for a scout to monitor arches, given it was unlawful for Chosens to enter into another territory without permission from its royal. No excuses were valid; were I to be spotted in Gemini, it would be disastrous for our court.
There was no sound reason Gregorios and I could come up with to justify my need to visit Gemini without raising suspicions—from both King Zephyr and Maryn—regarding my lengthy and undetermined stay. Discretion was paramount.
I squinted against the cool, damp air as we flew. The humidity was surprisingly refreshing. Cloud cover stretched in every direction. It was a welcomed view, even though it compromised my line of sight.
Detecting more scouts several miles above us, I steered us lower to where there were even fewer floating isles and skyships. Regardless of territory, not many were brave enough to dwell this close to the Barrier. As we coasted through clouds, I scanned the sky above to ensure no one—
Look ahead.
“Fuck!” I cried out as a massive boulder appeared in front of us. With seconds to spare, I steered Cobalt to the right. She whinnied in alarm as we spiraled around it. I clutched her mane, squeezing my thighs to her ribcage as the world spun. When she leveled out, I stroked her neck.
“We’re okay,” I murmured. “Sorry, girl.”
I peered over my shoulder at the rocky peak emerging from the Barrier. We were lucky it wasn’t a wide formation, or else our maneuverings wouldn’t have been quick enough to evade it. My stomach twisted at the idea of anything happening to Cobalt because of me.
I clicked my tongue, urging her higher.
No one—not even seers—knew what existed within or below the Barrier.
Even this close, I couldn’t detect anything.
Legends claimed it was where the Astrals dwelled, though whoever ventured into the celadon clouds never returned.
Over the years, thousands of soldiers from every territory had been lost to the Barrier in an attempt to discover its mystery—to no avail.
I’d read myths detailing a time when life once flourished below it.
Such stories were forbidden and hard to come by.
Sometimes, I couldn’t help but wonder why.
I checked the panniers secured behind me, grateful to see their contents remained intact.
Gregorios had lent me a plethora of treasured stones from our court’s trove—a collection worth a fortune—that included lesser stones of luck and protection.
There was no need to pack a travel stone, for the talisman on my finger would protect me beyond the borders of Scorpio.
Completely invisible, the magical borders of each territory produced a curse that would kill anyone not born of that territory’s Zodiac sign after twelve days.
Unless, of course, one possessed a travel stone.
With it, their protection was indefinite—so long as the stone was attached to a precious metal while also touching the skin of its wearer.
The same applied to all other magical stones known to exist: without a metal to trigger or skin to impart its magic, a stone on its own was useless.
Hence, many—particularly the elite who could afford it—adorned themselves with jewelry on their ears, necks, faces, limbs, and other, more creative parts of their bodies.
Apart from my talisman, the most valuable stone in my possession was a clear quartz. Known as a communica, a clear quartz granted the ability to understand—and speak—any language unbeknownst to those who engaged with its wearer.
Like the Academies, the Martial Isles taught attendees to be fluent in each of the twelve languages. While I enjoyed the challenge of recalling Gemini’s tricky dialect, the clear quartz would ensure nothing got lost in translation.
Cobalt’s labored breathing captured my attention.
Her strong heart hammered in her chest as her wings flapped twice as hard to combat the winds.
Most Pegasi could fly for four hours without stopping to rest or hydrate.
Knowing we had much more sky to cover, I didn’t want to push her.
Finding some place in this cloud cover with enough ground for her to land—and build up speed to depart from—would be a challenge.
“Almost there, girl. Hang on. We’ll find you a place to rest.”
We came upon a modest town called Alhena. My maps indicated we were still half a day’s flight from Gemini’s royal city, Dioscuri, but this would have to do. The bigger the town, the more likely someone would know of a black rose.
From my initial assessment, Alhena appeared to be a seedy, depressing town that lived amidst constant cloud cover.
There didn’t seem like much to do except drink, according to all the taverns I spotted everywhere.
It wasn’t a place I wanted to stay long in, parading Cobalt around.
Plenty of desperate eyes schemed with thievery as I guided her down the roads to an inn.
Pegasi were rare in the northern territories, but any skybeast usually drew attention for they only belonged to members of the royal guard, mercenaries, or someone of great wealth.
Keeping my eyes low and hood up, I secured Cobalt at the inn’s stables on the outskirts of town.
I paid the stable hand a hefty amount of local coin, Irons, to ensure no harm came to her.
I may or may not have included a personal threat to gouge his eyes out if he tried anything himself.
He didn’t know I was a guardian, but my stature and voice were enough to ensure his compliance.
I spread out the contents of my packs atop the creaky floorboards of my borrowed room.
Sandalwood incense, crumpled maps for navigation, my leatherbound journal for note keeping, a sack of Gregorios’s stones, and one of his tarot decks.
With his permission to use his blessed deck, performing a simple reading would be of no offense to the Astrals.
Darkness befell outside, followed by a light rainstorm. The trickling droplets were welcomed and nostalgic after years of aridity.
Shuffling the tarot deck in my lap, I closed my eyes and asked the cosmos my most pressing question. “Where is the black rose?”
My palm smeared the deck face down. I hovered my hands over the cards. I wouldn’t lower them until it felt right to. Or until my—
Now.
I picked up the card closest to my outstretched fingers. Flipping it over, I pressed my lips together in frustration. “The Lovers,” I muttered before tossing it aside. “Helpful. Thank you.”
Knowing I wouldn’t find any more answers in this room, I set out to explore what the townsfolk knew about a black rose.
Damp clouds blanketed the streets like fog.
I lingered in several taverns and pieced together that Alhena was notable for its diverse fungus production, given its lack of sunlight and constant winds.
Many growers carried samples on their person, of which I purchased a strange paste concoction known for ridding a person of their most recent memories.
The forceful seller greedily reached for the Irons resting in my palm as I snapped my fist closed. “What do you know of a black rose?”
“Black rose?” She scrunched her nose as her eyes narrowed on my hand. “Not a damn thing. I’m no florist. Now give me my Irons!”
I tossed them at her. After having pestered most of the tavern’s crowd, I moved on to the next: a wooden room that reeked of mildew and piss. Spilled ale stuck to the floor. A measly lute player sat hunched in the far corner, playing a dismal tune fit for the town.
I ignored the barkeep’s alarmed expression as I asked for water and bread, as I had in every tavern.
To sit in places like these and not order anything would draw almost as much attention as keeping my dark green hood up.
I didn’t own anything in yellow, Gemini’s color, for wearing the sacred color of another’s territory was seen as a slight to their Astral.
The queendom of Taurus’s sacred color was emerald, but all other shades of green were considered neutral.
And since it was no longer Gemini’s Tempus, most non-sacred colors appeared acceptable.
After the barkeep brought my order, I made my way to a two-seater wooden table near the lute player. All the while I kept my ears perked and sifted through the dozens of conversations taking place across the tavern.
“… wonder who it’ll be, now that they’ve lost their twelfth queen in a row.”
“… a marriage union, even though it’s never been done before.”
“The king of Aries has been vocal about it. But he wields fire, and Scorpio needs water.”
“How would that even work? Scorpio needs an actual royal to marry another.”
It was no surprise that Scorpio was the talk of the realm, though I found it interesting—odd, even—that common people knew of such political discourse. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the slightest if the prideful king of Aries himself spread the rumors of such a union.
I shifted my attention to other topics that didn’t fuel my own frustration.
“… thanks to the Cancer queen’s rains carried by King Zephyr’s windstorms, my fungal crop has yielded more than ever…”
“… the fire kings think they wield the most powerful element, but air can smother out a fire.”
I spent several hours listening to the mundane conversations.
Most stemmed around which territory had the best food (Taurus), the best wine (Sagittarius), the most beautiful skylands (a tie between Virgo and Libra, the two territories that bordered either side of the Equator), the best fashion (Leo), the kindest souls (Cancer and Pisces), the fiercest warriors (Aries), and most intelligent scholars (Aquarius and Capricorn).
I never heard anything about a black rose. Nor any signs of the apostai, which I was always on the lookout for.
Returning to the bar counter, I slid another coin to the female server. “Does a black rose mean anything to you?”
She shook her head once. I reined in my short-lived disappointment.
“That broad wouldn’t know,” a male patron beside me barked. The female server flinched as she set down a mug filled to the brim before him. “She’s mostly a man’s fantasy around here.”
I turned to my right to spot a middle-aged man with straggly hair unbound around his frail-looking shoulders. His clothes were tattered and stained. He smelled of desperation and ear wax, no doubt spotting an opportunity before him.
Still, I engaged. “She? Elaborate.”
“It’s gonna cost ya,” he said, a smirk on his lips as he ogled the barkeep’s chest, who turned away to avoid his unwanted attention. I got the sense this man was a usual customer up to his usual lewd endeavors.
I inched closer until we were shoulder to shoulder and discreetly slid a single Iron across the counter under his wrist.
He laughed bitterly into his mug. “You’re going to have to do better than that. Not every day a man like me is in a position like this, you know.”
I pulled a blade out faster than he could blink, pressing it sharply beneath his unkept beard. Blood oozed as he winced.
“Trust me,” I growled. “It’s not a position you want to be in.”
I didn’t care if anyone else beyond the barkeep noticed the hostile interaction at this point. There weren’t any guards stationed nearby.
He gulped for air. “Alright. I’ll tell you about it.”
“It?” I shook him, voice low. “Is it an object? Something that only pathetic men like you desire?”
“All women are objects.”
I thrust his head down, pressing his cheek firmly into the counter. The nearby drinks rattled from the force. “One more chance.”
He choked out a laugh. “You must be desperate if a man like you is threatening someone like me in a place like this. You won’t kill me. Not when I know something you’re so clearly in need of.”
“Who said anything about killing?”
I unsheathed a smaller, stealthier blade from my belt and swiped at his index finger. His nail skidded off, bouncing to the ale-soaked floor. His howl echoed around the room.
I now had the attention of the entire tavern. I had to move quickly.
“I can do this to every finger and toe. I’ll move on to your tongue and then your teeth. You don’t need those for talking, do you?”
He whimpered. “She’s a dancer.”
“A dancer,” I repeated. “Where? What’s her name?”
“I don’t know. No one does. People have spoken of a dancer with hair like that of a blackened rose somewhere in the royal city. She’s… she’s said to be the most beautiful woman. Immortal, even.”
“Immortality does not exist. How do you know about her?”
“She’s whispered across the kingdom. Some say all of Gaianos knows of her. What man wouldn’t fantasize about such renowned beauty?”
“If you’re lying to me, I will come back here and make you regret it. There will be nowhere to hide from a man like me.” Not after catching his putrid scent.
“I swear,” he wheezed.
I released him, taking back my coin and sliding the bloodied blade on the counter toward the trembling bartender. “In case he tries anything on you. Don’t be afraid to use it.”
“How did…?” she started before reaching for it. “Thank you.”
I moved swiftly under the glares of the entire room. If the bastard was telling even an ounce of truth, he’d helped narrow my search greatly.
With no other options, believing him was a risk I had to take.