Chapter 4
OLYMPIA
Croak stayed close to his sister as they rounded the corner and saw the men milling about in the main hall of The Keep. She’d found him yesterday moments before the blood rushing to his head made him pass out.
With Rydon and Gabriol’s help, they’d lifted him back from the battlements where Hermes’s scum had ambushed and hung him over the wall upside down.
Croak had screamed his head off, panicking when the rope slipped.
His heart had lodged in his throat as he’d tried to remain still so as not to further tempt the Fates.
A lifetime later, he looked up into his sister’s grim face and cried with joy at seeing her—and being rescued, of course.
Hermes’s idiots had laughed at Croak when he followed his sister into the dining hall.
They weren’t laughing when she left, though.
Hermes had berated her for unleashing her fury on his men, one of whom lost a leg during their argument.
She’d pushed back, telling him they’d started it by picking on Croak, although he took exception to the ‘picking on’ part.
He was certain he threatened their masculinity with his own virile personality and lashed out like a bunch of babies.
Or perhaps it was the innocent prank he’d pulled on them with the snake he and Orry had found in the old ruins outside the palace.
Hermes looked up as they arrived and he motioned for Terena. Croak hurried to stay close, casting a scathing look at one of Hermes’s men who had the audacity to smirk at him. His black eye and split lip made Croak feel better, though.
“Another message from Altos,” Hermes said when Terena stopped beside him.
“What now?”
The god’s usually smiling countenance was no longer on display.
He looked annoyed as he thrust a crumpled note at her.
“Duke Ovenno is in Sparta, asserting his parental rights. He wants Sonah to go back to Ovenno with him. The king suspects it has something to do with Emperor Solon putting pressure on the provinces no longer under his control.”
“So we go to Calla,” Terena said as she handed the message back to Hermes.
“No.” He stroked his chin and turned away.
“I will still take my army south, for Sparta. You take Gabriol and Rydon and go to Calla. Take Migela too,” he added, motioning to the tall, Offeni assassin who’d joined them a fortnight ago.
Migela strolled up, her hand on the hilt of her sword as she smiled grimly at Terena.
The raven-haired Offeni wore all black, her hair long on the right side while the left side was shorn to the scalp.
Her nose twinkled from the jewel through her left nostril as she tilted her head and signed in greeting.
Migela was mute, her tongue taken when she was a child during an invasion that killed her family.
She was now one of the deadliest assassins on the continent and Croak was glad to have her on their side.
She was also a little sweet on a certain cleric.
“It’ll take them a few weeks to get there,” Terena said after she acknowledged Migela. “Why don’t I go south with you and we can intercept them?”
“I need you to do something else for me,” Hermes said distractedly as he nodded at something one of his men whispered in his ear.
Turning back to Terena, he said, “I want you to find a tracker that has… eluded some of my finest mercenaries. One of my scouts found her in a village west of Vesala. I was going to put it off for now, but since that’s where your sister’s headed, I thought it best to send you now.”
“If your man found her, why can’t he bring her back?”
Hermes sighed dramatically. “Because she gave him a message for me. She will only go with the Royal Tracker.”
“Me?”
“I assume that’s who she meant,” Hermes sang out sarcastically. His goons chuckled as Hermes turned to leave. Terena dogged his steps just as Rydon and Gabriol descended the staircase to their right. Croak caught Rydon’s eye and strolled over to him.
“She said it like that? She called me the Royal Tracker?”
“Aye.”
“What’s going on?” Rydon asked as Croak neared. He didn’t stop and Croak jogged a few steps to keep pace with him as he and Gabriol followed Ren.
“We’re going to Ovenno,” Croak said, failing to keep the excitement from his voice. “The duke went to Sparta and is taking Sonah back to Calla with him.”
Rydon started, his steps pausing as he glanced over at Croak. “No.”
“Aye,” Croak grinned, “and now Hermes wants Ren to find a tracker for him. Who is also in Ovenno.”
“Fuck,” Gabriol muttered, wedging his big body between Croak and Rydon, forcing Croak into the wall. He mumbled curses under his breath as he ran to Rydon’s left.
“Why this tracker?” Ren called out.
Hermes turned. “I was told she would help us.”
“That’s great Hermes.” Ren laughed. Spreading her arms she asked, “Help us how?”
Ignoring her, Hermes smiled as he added, “When you have Sonah, meet me in Metilai. I’ll expect you there by your nameday.”
“What?” Ren scoffed, striding after Hermes. “Why Metilai? You never said—”
“I told you we were taking back what is ours,” the god replied after he’d mounted his warhorse. Resting a hand on his thigh, he scowled down at their little group. “Destroying the empire was always at the top of my list. After getting your sister back, my plan was always to attack Metilai.”
“And what of the shroud?” Ren sounded exasperated as she flung out her arms.
In the month they’d known Hermes, the god had spent most of his time training Terena to use her powers. While she’d grown in her abilities, especially the closer she was to her nameday, he was cagey with details surrounding the Olympians.
Especially her father, Ares.
“Hopefully, the cleric figures it out. We’ll be back for him when the time comes. But Solon and his empire need to be dealt with first.”
“Hear, hear,” Croak called out and stamped his foot. Rydon threw a grimace his way as Gabriol smacked the back of his head.
Hermes turned his mount and looked at Ren over his shoulder, grinning. “I thought you’d be pleased! You’ll be back with your sister in a few weeks and by the time you ascend with all your powers at long last, you’ll have revenge on the man who almost killed you.”
“There’s war all across the eastern side of the continent,” Rydon called out, stepping up to stand at Terena’s side. “And you want us to head right into it? At least give us a host of soldiers to travel with us.”
Hermes looked down at Rydon in disbelief. His hellion of a horse snorted and Croak swore the puff of vapor was smoke from the fires of Hades rather than the cold.
“You travel with a god,” Hermes spat, his jovial expression at odds with his harsh tone. “You yourself are immortal. Soon you’ll have another god to travel with so believe me, Eudaemon, you’re in a much better position to traverse this continent than I am.”
Gabriol snorted and Croak let out a disbelieving chuckle. The god pretended at humility about as well as a viper pretended at being docile.
“Two months,” Hermes said as he pointed at Terena. “I will see you in Metilai. Bring the tracker with you when you find her.”
NEAR VESALA, OVENNO
A week later, they arrived at the village outside of Vesala where Hermes said they’d find the tracker. The stars emerged and shadows gathered as the night deepened. Terena slowed as they neared their destination.
The rundown looking building did not resemble any tavern Terena had ever frequented.
In fact, it looked deserted. No one stood outside and there were no sounds coming from within as she, Croak, and Rydon, stopped in front of the abandoned watering hole.
Migela and Gabriol were on watch, standing on either end of the empty street, hidden in shadows.
“Did we make a wrong turn?” Croak asked as he swiveled around, looking up and down the street. The buildings on either side seemed just as rundown, seedy in a way that spoke more of criminal activity rather than despair and poverty.
Terena glanced around, her eyes narrowed as she took in their surroundings. “Stay sharp,” she murmured, clapping her brother on his shoulder. “Someone’s watching us.”
Rydon scowled as his hand drifted to the broadsword at his side.
“Should we leave?” Croak’s voice was barely above a whisper, but Terena heard the panic beneath.
“We’ll be fine,” Rydon muttered, arching an auburn eyebrow and lifting his chin at Terena. “We’ve got a god with us. And I’m immortal.”
“God or not,” Croak sputtered, stepping closer to both his sister and Rydon. “She’s still months away from her nameday. When she ascends, I’ll rest easier about visiting establishments such as this.”
“I told you to stay behind,” Terena hissed as she cast him a baleful glance before walking toward the rotting wooden door of the tavern. According to Hermes, this is where his mercenary had seen their quarry.
“Aye, and what would I do sitting back there with only Orry for company?” Croak grimaced. “I’d go mad within a week.”
“Shut your hole,” Rydon growled, grabbing Croak by his cloak and dragging him along.
Terena put her hand to the door, then pressed her ear against it. Hearing nothing, she pulled back and lifted her hand to knock.
“Don’t do that!” Croak whispered loudly.
Ignoring her brother, Terena’s tentative knock barely reached her ears.
Yet she heard the soft snick of a lock disengaging. Glancing over her shoulder at Rydon, Terena stepped back, her hands settling on the hilts of her short swords.
The door opened a crack. Heart thudding against her ribcage, Terena waited, stiffening her frame. Seconds passed, but no one showed up on the other side as the door remained ajar. Twisting her lips, Terena puffed out a breath in annoyance and pushed open the door.
Pitch black enveloped her as she stood inside the entryway. She could not tell if the room was large or not, if there was another room beyond where she stood at all.
Rydon’s breath tickled her cheek as he leaned close. “What do you think?”
“Reminds me of another tavern you and I went to a few months back,” she muttered. Terena pulled her swords from their scabbards slowly so as not to make a sound. Gripping their leather-bound hilts, she hefted them as she took cautious steps deeper into the darkened interior.
A grunt followed by a whimper from behind them made Terena whip her head around, only to hear Croak cursing under his breath. Rydon cuffed him, slapping a hand over her brother’s mouth to stop another cry escaping his lips.
“You’ve come a long way for me,” a disembodied voice said from above.
Terena craned her neck. There was nothing to see in the void.
“Do you think it wise? Hunting someone with no wish to be found?”
Terena remained silent. Her feet whispered across the ground, putting distance between her and Rydon.
“Has he even told you why he seeks me?” the voice continued, now in front of them.
Terena heard a gasp behind her and turned. Rydon swore, his sword lifted as light flared around them.
Her face darkened as Croak was brought forward, eyes wide in his ashen face.
A dark-skinned woman with light brown hair plaited over her shoulder had one arm banded around his stomach, the other lifted to where she held a dagger with a curved edge to his throat.
A small gold loop winked at them from the woman’s eyebrow as she turned her lips to Croak’s temple.
“If you leave now, I won’t skin this little one. And you’ll tell your god I want no part in his plans.”
Rydon snarled and made to lunge at the woman, but Terena stayed him with an arm flung out to his chest.
Without breaking her stare, she said in a calm voice, “If you do not unhand my brother, now, I will skin you.”
The woman’s lips stretched into a wide smile. “Aye. I believe you. So we can agree to leave each other alone?”
“I was told you asked for me.”
“By whom?”
“You asked for the Royal Tracker,” Terena replied in a clipped tone. Spreading her arms out, she grimaced. “Here I am.”
With that, the woman released Croak, who stumbled forward. Rydon grabbed hold of his jerkin and yanked him to his side, his sword still held aloft.
The woman kept her dark eyes trained on Terena, the smile still in place. “I’ll admit, I did not think Hermes would send his best.”
“I am not his best,” Terena ground out, her body vibrating with violence. “I am his equal.”
The woman blinked, and for a moment so brief it could’ve been a trick of the eye, Terena swore she saw confusion cross her sharp features. When she tossed her head back and laughed, Terena almost snapped.
“No, goddess, you are not.”
To Terena’s surprise, the woman sheathed her curved dagger and covered her heart with her hand.
“You have no equal.”