Chapter 7
NEAR VESALA, OVENNO
Croak balked at the man who’d once been under the command of Croaks’ father before his untimely death. Shock had dulled his instincts, but he quickly recovered, snatching his sword out of its scabbard and dropping into a fighting stance.
After his initial shock, Xoran’s loathsome face stretched as he grinned and he watched them for a long moment. He had the gall to take a drink of his wine. The scabrous dog acted as if he had no care in the world.
“You picked the wrong tavern, Xoran,” Terena snarled at the soldier, her face livid.
“Not from where I’m sitting,” the asshole replied. Croak wasn’t sure what he liked less about the man, his rat-like face, or his raspy voice. It sounded like something he affected to sound dangerous, but all it reminded Croak of was their old cook who smoked at least fifty bossena smokes a day.
Xoran set his goblet down with more care than the vessel warranted and narrowed his dark eyes at Terena. “Perhaps it is you in the wrong tavern?”
“Stop posturing,” the tracker muttered, moving to Xoran’s side, one hand digging into the pocket of her leather pants.
Taking a seat on one of the sofa’s arms, she tossed a coin on the table near Xoran’s wine. The captain flashed her a grin as the woman crossed her arms at her chest with a scowl seeming more good-natured than angry.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Croak looked between the tracker and the captain. “You know each other?”
“Did she not say?” Xoran laughed, his face transforming slightly to look more like a dog crossed with a rat. “Vassori’s my sister.”
Croak was certain the same stunned look on Terena’s face was mirrored on his own. Rydon looked just as flummoxed.
The woman, Vassori, shared a grin with Xoran. The captain settled back on the sofa, his white teeth a deep contrast to his swarthy complexion.
“Sister? You look nothing alike!” Croak said, his voice shrill in his ears.
“What’s the matter, Croak? You don’t think she’s as pretty as I am?”
“I thought Serephina was your sister?” Croak replied with a mulish mien as he regarded the captain warily.
Vassori snorted while Xoran grinned. He winked at the tracker. “Serephina’s a lover. Never my sister.”
“You fucking snake,” Terena hissed, hot color flooding her face.
Croak smiled. It would delight him to no end to see his sister tear the bastard’s head off.
The captain shrugged, not realizing how close to death he stood.
“I needed a way inside and Serephina was more than willing to oblige. Of course, I had to put up with her incessant whining about how it should be her son on the throne rather than Empress Adanna’s, but that only proved another useful bit of information I’ve been able to use against the little imbecile. ”
“You’re not taking me back,” Terena said, inching forward to stand slightly in front of Croak. “You’ll die before that happens.”
“Stand down, Luca,” Xoran sighed in a bored voice, waving one of his burn-scarred hands. “I’m not here to take you back.”
“What is this, then?” Rydon growled, his voice low. Croak knew from experience it did not bode well for the snide captain.
“I have a proposition for you,” the captain answered, his black eyes not wavering from Terena.
“Another proposition? You and your sister are indeed cut from the same cloth.” Terena asked.
At the same time, Rydon shouted, “We don’t want shit from you!”
“How’d you even know we’d be here?” Croak asked. “Do your spies extend to Hermes’s court?”
“Court! Ha!” The tracker, Vassori, snorted. “He’s got nobles now?”
“I meant that… figuratively,” Croak grumbled.
“The how isn’t as important as the why,” Xoran drawled. He dipped his chin and looked at Terena again. “Isn’t that so, goddess?”
“Are you going to tell us, then?” Terena spat. “Or are you going to sit there all night looking pleased with yourself? What do you want?”
The captain clicked his tongue and dropped his gaze. Lifting his goblet to his lips, he looked up at Terena over the rim and said, “Vassori will pledge her sword to you, and only you. In exchange—”
“Vassori already said—”
“I said I’d come with you,” Vassori interrupted. She moved her knee to nudge Xoran’s. “But I will not pledge to you until you’ve agreed to my brother’s terms.”
“Let’s go,” Terena muttered, sheathing her swords and motioning to Rydon and Croak with her head. Rydon backed away, his sword still out as he watched the captain and the tracker. Croak shook his head, putting away his sword as he stepped back to follow Terena.
“Would you listen if I told you I can get Sonah Yahn back to you?”
Croak closed his eyes and tipped his head back.
“Terena—” Rydon started to say, his hand splayed on her bracer but she put her hand over his, her eyes on Xoran’s rat-face.
“You think to manipulate me,” Ren said quietly, her words carrying an edge of power she’d only begun to show in recent days. “You cannot. Even as we speak, Sonah is on her way here. I will find her in Calla, soon.”
Terena pivoted, and Xoran’s next words made Croak groan.
“Aye, you’d find her. But perhaps you’d rather not see Commander Antonius. I know you two were… something. And now…” he shrugged again, the smug bastard.
Croak swung around to his sister. “Don’t listen to this snake. He’s feeding on your—”
Shutting his mouth before he could finish, Croak felt the rise of a very telling blush heating his face and he ducked his head.
The quiet settling after his outburst made Croak duck his head, shuffling his feet until Rydon glared at him. With a scowl that would have had Croak running for his life a few months ago, Rydon turned back to Ren.
“The boy’s right,” he said, his low voice menacing as he turned a baleful look toward the captain. “Do not trust this man.”
“You know nothing about me,” Terena seethed. “And you have nothing to offer.”
“I know you and the commander had a falling out,” Xoran said with a shrugged. “I only wished to spare you a reunion.”
“And what spares us from you?” Croak asked with a scoff.
“You don’t have to trust me,” Xoran said with such innocence in his eyes, Croak almost fell for it. “I will return Sonah Yahn to you. If I do not follow through on my side of the bargain, not only will you have Vassori’s sword, you’ll also have the item I need you to find.”
The smile on the captain’s face made Croak gag. Xoran leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he watched Ren.
“Before the Immortals War, the King of the Gods gifted a very rare emerald amulet to a young man. Zeus had come to earth to woo some human, I guess, but came across the man instead, a shepherd, somewhere in what is now Heylisia.”
“Are you going to tell us a bedtime story, Captain,” Rydon snarled as he shifted his weight, “or are you going to get to the fucking point?”
“Let him finish,” Ren said without looking away from the odious captain.
“The point, my dear Eudaemon, is that Terena, while no longer the Royal Tracker, is still, in fact, a tracker.”
“You want me to find this amulet?” Ren asked with a bland expression that did not fool Croak. The corner of her lip twitched.
“Aye.”
“No.”
“No?” Xoran frowned.
“I will not find this amulet you seek. Or rather, the amulet Solon seeks. I’m not giving that megalomaniac a weapon he can use against me and mine.”
“The amulet is not for Emperor Solon.”
“So you say.”
“What can I do to convince you?”
“Nothing,” Croak snorted.
“You have a tracker. Let her find it.” Terena said, waving a hand at Vassori, who continued to sit on the sofa arm as if it were the most comfortable place in the room. She tossed something into her mouth every once in a while as she watched them speak.
Croak’s stomach growled in response. Would it be disloyal to grab some food while they chatted?
“I’ve been looking,” Vassori said in a wry tone. “But then—”
“We need your help to find it,” Xoran interrupted. Croak noted the look passing between him and the tracker with interest. She ducked her head and tossed another nut or whatever in her mouth.
“You get Vassori’s sword and Sonah Yahn,” Xoran went on, his voice so syrupy sweet it grated on Croak. “All I ask is that you find the amulet for me.”
“It is useless to you,” Rydon replied. Turning to Terena, he said in a lower tone, “They cannot be used by anyone outside of the bloodline it was gifted to.”
“Ah, you know your cyphers,” Xoran said with a grin.
Croak rolled his eyes.
“This is true,” Vassori said. “It cannot be used by anyone other than the bloodline of the shepherd Zeus gifted it to. But we do not want to use it.”
“Then why not leave it where it is?” Croak asked, looking between the two. “If it’s lost, no one can use it.”
“Because the emperor is looking for it,” Xoran said with a laconic lift of his shoulder.
“Ah ha,” Croak snapped his fingers. “There it is.”
“I thought you said—”
“Emperor Solon is looking for it. I told him I would get it for him, but I will not give it to him,” Xoran ground out.
Croak could tell by the little tic at the corner of his lips he was losing patience.
His dark eyes narrowed, and the cruel mask he’d always worn in front of them over the years finally fell back into place.
“You must think me a fool, Xoran,” Terena chuckled, “if you believe I will find it for you now. I’ll get Sonah on my own. And you can keep your tracker.”
“Wait!”
Terena turned back toward the door, motioning for Rydon and Croak to follow, when Vassori called out. Croak glanced over his shoulder to see the tracker standing now, her hand in front of her and panic on her face before she schooled her expression.
“I will pledge my sword to you without your help finding the amulet.”
“No.”
“Please!” Vassori’s plaintiff cry stopped them all. Rydon’s lips were still firmly pressed together, letting Terena deal with the woman. Croak folded his arms and watched the performance.
“Vas—”
“No,” Vassori batted Xoran’s hand away and he sat back on the sofa, staring at the ground while Vassori rounded the table to stand before Terena.
She dropped to one knee.
Croak’s mouth fell open, and he swung his head to Terena. She stood straight and stiff, her eyes on the woman kneeling at her feet but with a look on her face Croak had only ever seen on Solon’s face.
And on Hermes.
“I have no right to ask this of you,” Vassori said, her head bowed, “but please let me pledge my sword, my life, my death, to you. I do not ask for anything in return. I wish only to serve.”
“Why?” Rydon asked.
There was a beat of silence following his question.
“Because you will lead us when the war comes.”
“Heylisia’s already at war,” Croak said quietly.
“What war is coming?” Rydon asked.
“Vas!” Xoran’s face was thunderous as he stood, his hands clenched and his eyes spitting fire.
“You know,” Vassori said, lifting her head at last. Her face had such a vulnerable look, Croak shifted uncomfortably.
“You know,” she said again, more forcefully. “The oracle told you. ‘Leading the gods to glory’.”
Terena’s face lost all color. Rydon swore under his breath. Croak felt dread slide down to his belly.
“The second Immortals War is coming,” Vassori whispered, as if she wished not to be overheard by the Fates. “And if you’re leading the gods to glory, I want to be at your side.”