Chapter 11 #2
As soon as Eurus and I pass through the gates, the divine swing their heads in our direction, halting mid-stride.
The East Wind goes rigid beside me. I shrink against him, seeking the enemy I know over the enemy I do not. All my life I have walked the earth unremarkable and plain. Here, I am a curiosity, dare I say, unique.
“Is that woman mortal?” someone whispers in horror.
A pouty-mouthed goddess covers her nose with a sneer. “She reeks.”
“She doesn’t smell that bad.”
A rush of trampling feet, like bloodhounds on a hunt. The divine surround us, scandalized conversation muffled behind hands or murmured into neighboring ears.
“Let’s go.” Eurus grabs my arm, hauling me along.
“But—”
“Keep walking.” He slips his palm against my back, propelling me forward. Our difference in size is comical, and it takes little effort for him to direct me down the road, where one goddess has called her two hounds to heel.
“Eurus? Is that you?”
A tall, buxom woman parts the crowd. The long dress cinched at her waist is dyed all the colors of the sea’s hidden depths—a lovely complement to her olive skin.
She wears slender heels studded in what I believe to be diamonds, all sparkle and shine.
I stare as her eyes catch mine. They are yellow, like a cat’s.
“Demi.” The East Wind sounds aghast. It’s perhaps the first time I’ve heard him caught off guard. “What are you doing here?”
She arches one beautifully groomed eyebrow. I can’t stop staring—those heels, that gown, the cascade of dark ringlets over her shoulders, the lush, scarlet-painted mouth. She is effortlessly striking. “I’m here for the tournament, of course. I assume you are, too.”
“I am.”
“What an unexpected surprise.” The goddess then scowls at our audience.
“Away, all of you. Scat!” The crowd breaks apart to sounds of disappointment.
“Vultures.” But she smiles, shifting her weight onto her other leg.
“To think how quickly a few centuries pass. I would say you haven’t aged a day, but it’s a little difficult to tell with that hood covering your face. ”
The East Wind’s hand drops from my back. “You certainly haven’t aged.”
Smoky laughter slips from between her perfect white teeth. “It takes work to look this good, love.” She peers at him, and something sharp and uncomfortable pokes at my innards. I glance away, feeling as if I am intruding on their exchange. “We’ll have to catch up soon. You’ll seek me out?”
There is a pause. Then: “I will.”
Though the goddess peers at me peculiarly, she continues onward, the sway of her body reminiscent of rippling silk. I question the way Eurus studies her retreating form. He did not seem particularly enthused to see this goddess.
The moment we enter the palace, a scrappy fellow races toward us, head buried in a pile of documents.
With his twig-like limbs, he looks akin to a prepubescent boy, though he is likely many millennia old.
“Hello there, and welcome. I’m the tournament coordinator, so if you need anything, please let me know.
Once I have you checked in, you’ll…” He lifts his head, nose wrinkling.
“What is that smell?” Then he blanches, having recognized who stands before him.
“Eurus?” A slow, bewildered blink of his long-lashed eyes.
“You’re here, you’re—” He flips through his documents furiously.
“The announcement stated that the tournament was open to all deities,” Eurus clarifies. “No exclusions.”
“Ah… hmm. Yes, that is true, but…” The coordinator consults his notes, lower lip caught between his teeth. “It seems you do have a right to enter the tournament. That is… well. Let me see what rooms are available.”
We stand in a massive foyer, multiple curtain-draped corridors leading deeper into the palace.
Three women climb the curved, central staircase, hands sliding along the gleaming banister.
They wear long white shifts and swords strapped across their backs.
Their hair is red as flame. Sisters? As one, they glance at Eurus, then at me.
The tallest woman mutters something to her companions.
They laugh and continue to the level above.
I suppose news of the East Wind’s arrival has spread. Some of the other competitors cannot resist passing through the foyer for a closer study. I shy from the sapphire gaze of a massive centaur, its large hooves clopping against the tile as it disappears down one of the halls.
“We do have a single suite on the fourth floor that is available. It should fit your, er—” He glances at the East Wind’s wings. “Needs.”
My attention snaps back to the coordinator. “We need two suites!” I blurt.
Only then does the god look at me. His eyes widen. “A mortal?”
“She is my assistant,” Eurus clips out.
Assistant. Right. I imagine bane weaver is a bit off-putting, especially to those Eurus intends to harm.
“But she is mortal,” the coordinator repeats.
“And?” The East Wind glowers at the smaller god until he drops his eyes. “There are no rules barring mortal assistants. I have checked.”
“That’s true,” he murmurs, flipping through his documents nervously. “Very well. Two suites—”
“One. My assistant and I will share.”
The blood drains from my face so rapidly I sway, hand raised in an attempt to shield myself from the idea of the East Wind and me cloistered in a room together. “B-but—”
The coordinator motions for us to follow him up the stairs. I clutch the back of Eurus’ cloak, vaguely aware of the passing doorways blurring in my periphery. Our suite is located at the end of the corridor. The East Wind pushes inside, shutting the door in the coordinator’s face.
As soon as we are alone, I collapse onto a cushioned chair, eyes closed. Strangely, I yearn for the manor. How she always provided me food, or blankets, shifting pieces of furniture in her unique form of communication. This… this was a mistake.
“Bird.” When I squeeze my eyes tighter, Eurus sighs. “Min.”
It is a reluctant unfolding, but eventually, my heartbeat settles, and I open my eyes, straightening in the chair.
The suite is far more spacious than I anticipated. Windows span the far wall, green curtains tied back to welcome the sun. They grant a stunning view of the city in autumn. Red maples brighten the green spaces, and the mountains have begun to turn as well, all the colors of the earth.
The walls are painted a warm, dandelion yellow.
A handful of smaller chambers branch off the main sitting room, which houses low sofas, a fireplace, cozy blankets draped over the backs of stately armchairs.
A partially open door reveals a washroom, while a set of double doors lead to a large bedroom.
“Sharing a suite is a necessary inconvenience,” the East Wind states, studying me from his position near the door. “I cannot trust the other contestants not to pit you against me.”
There is a roiling beneath my skin. I cannot discern its flavor—anger, helplessness, frustration, all three? “I gave you my w-w-word that I’d help you w-win,” I reply tersely.
“You also promised your former employer that you would follow her instructions, yet here we are.”
He is not wrong. I chew the inside of my cheek and consider the words I must use to defend my character. In the end, I swallow them down. “Where am I supposed to s-sleep?” Certainly not in that bed with him.
“There is another bedroom behind you.” He points. “That can be your workspace as well.”
Seems reasonable. I think. “You’re sure this w-won’t be uncomfortable for you?” I glance at him, but only long enough to feel the brush of his gaze. “Sharing living quarters, I mean?”
His hesitation is so brief I wonder if I imagined it. “No.” He stares at me. It has a strange effect on my body. “Why would it be uncomfortable?”
I don’t want to say it. He will make me say it. “I’m a mortal w-woman of marriageable age, and you are—” A giant amongst men. “A god. Won’t the other contestants talk?”
He peers down at me with an air of disdain. And yet—that hesitation. “Do not convince yourself this means anything at all, bird. You are my assistant. Nothing more.”
I’ve had sexual relations with men before.
Well, man—singular. Curtis used to deliver milk to the estate.
I was seventeen, and I wanted to know what it felt like to be wanted, just once.
Unfortunately, our relationship did not last. Lady Clarisse did not like to share me, so my experiences were rushed, secreted, and only occurred when she was out of town.
“Fair enough.” As long as I know my place, and he knows his.
The East Wind pushes open the door to my bedroom. The mattress is smaller, but I am not a large person. And I do not have wings.
“Will this space suffice?” he asks.
It is larger than my bedroom back home, that’s for sure.
It even has a proper bureau to store my clothes.
No dust. Someone must have cleaned recently.
A single window filters the light. “I can use the dresser as my w-worktable…” I trail off, thinking of what Eurus intends to do.
“And you’re serious about poisoning twelve gods? ”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He’s right. When has the East Wind ever spoken in jest? I’ve never met someone more averse to joy. “Think of the r-repercussions. What happens when they are gone?”
“I am not concerned with how this will impact the mortal realms. The City of Gods will endure.”
I fall quiet. How is it that twelve deities wronged him? But in the end, it is not my problem. If Eurus intends to kill these gods, that is his prerogative. I am here to complete a task, to birth poison. Only then will I walk free.
“Let us lay some ground rules for the duration of our stay.” He lifts a finger. “First, you will remain in this suite at all times.”
Here is what I know: I was lonely at the estate. Yes, I had her ladyship, and once a week, my journey into town, but my dearest friends were my herbs, crushed and rolled, pruned and boiled and dried. No matter how I wished plants could speak, mine was the only voice I heard.
“Y-you expect me to s-stay here until the tournament is complete?” My molars clamp down.
Use your words, stupid girl. How is it her ladyship’s cruel barbs manage to haunt me across realms?
“Why can’t I m-m-move around the palace?
You s-said I would be safe here, as long as I don’t g-go into the city. ”
He stares at me. I stare back—until I don’t. I look out the window, but the heat of his gaze lingers on my cheek, eventually dipping to my neck where the pale skin flushes pink. It is not a captive’s place to determine the boundaries of their cage.
“Very well.”
My head whips toward the East Wind in surprise. He changed his mind?
“You may explore the palace at will,” he says, “but keep to the grounds. If anyone approaches you, inform me immediately. The stakes of this tournament are high. We all want a favor from the council. As a general rule, no harm may be done to contestants outside of the trials, but that doesn’t apply to assistants, and the divine possess little honor.
Some competitors may take your wandering as an invitation to meddle. ”
I nod. It’s strange to think that less than two weeks have passed since I released the shackles on the East Wind’s power. Now I am to mingle with these highest celestial beings. “How m-many competitors are th-there?”
“We will see at tonight’s banquet.” He rolls his shoulders; the motion stirs the air, its rain-sweetened scent out of place so far from his island.
“Keep your wits about you. Assistant or not, you are still mortal: easy pickings, easy prey.” He stares at me for a long, unbroken moment, long enough for my face to heat. “Trust no one. Not even me.”