The Serpent Prince of Hades (The Veil of Elpis #2)

Chapter 1 Aethra

Aethra

The Empty waited below the sea. Crystal-clear waves lapped against the shore, concealing the death lurking beneath the surface.

Salvation and a whisper of destruction, bound as one. A mirror of myself, and the fate I might bring to the world.

Taking a deep breath, I drank in the unfamiliar scent of salt and flexed my wrists against the shackles binding them behind my back. Steel dug into my skin, an unpleasant reminder of what happened last night.

Ainwir had died to keep me away from Phaedrus. Seth had delivered me back into his hands.

A man’s shadow stretched over me, and I stiffened.

“You’ve had your time to think.” Phaedrus spoke with the elegant accent of the nobility. “Have you made a decision?”

Setting my jaw, I turned around, avoiding his gaze. Instead, I looked to our west. An enormous ship was moored on the beach. Several men in dark leather emblazoned with a golden chalice prowled its deck or loitered by its bridge.

Guild members. I should have known Phaedrus never intended to bring his soldiers.

The fiery-haired nobleman looked like a Guild member himself. A dark blue toga with a high collar wrapped his leather armor, and an elegant cape draped his shoulders.

The outfit reminded me of Ainwir.

Ainwir.

I closed my eyes and breathed out. A heavy weight lifted from my shoulders, now that I could remember him fondly again.

Phaedrus’ sage green eyes bore into me. “Well?”

“I have conditions,” I said, meeting his gaze.

He chuckled, motioning for me to follow him. “Are you in a position to bargain?”

“No. But I can come quietly or kicking and screaming. Your choice.”

“Name your price, then.”

We trudged through the sand, back to the ship’s bridge. I placed one foot on the wooden board and stopped. “First, I’ll have your solemn oath that you won’t harm the others if we run into them.”

“I won’t.” Phaedrus twisted to look down at me. His eyes darted away. “I shouldn’t need to, at least.”

“Oath,” I spat.

He offered me an amused smirk before dipping into a bow, hand pressed to his chest. “You have my most solemn word.”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. More and more, I could see the Ainwir in his mannerisms.

Phaedrus resumed his ascent to the ship’s deck, and I followed, pausing once more when I stepped aboard. “Second. I want to know everything about Ainwir.”

“Easy enough,” Phaedrus agreed, leading me past the Guild members toward the captain’s cabin. “We have many days of travel ahead and silence aplenty to fill.”

“Good,” I muttered, eyeing him warily as he opened the door and beckoned me inside.

A luxurious room greeted me, complete with a canopied bed and stately mahogany desk. A beautiful ebony gown lay across the sheets. Swiveling, I raised an eyebrow at the lord.

“That’s your disguise,” he said plainly. “Waltz around in . . .” He eyed my dirty pants and threadbare tunic with disapproval. “That, and you’ll be outed as a foreigner quickly.”

Narrowing my eyes, I looked over his clothes. “Where’s yours?”

“I’m wearing it.”

At first glance, there was no difference between his toga and the kind people wore back in the Merchant Isles, but tracing the embroidery along the clothing’s edges revealed a stark difference: golden runes wrapped the fabric, as though a ward meant to keep something inside its bounds.

Those were Duathi runes, the same as those on the black obelisk rising from the beach.

“Ah,” I breathed, studying the gown. Similar embroidery outlined its hem and sleeves. “That’s really all you have to do?”

“Long, long ago, our cultures were strikingly similar,” Phaedrus said. “We traded often and worshiped the same gods.”

“Eleos will be disappointed.” I wiggled my fingers, holding up my shackles for him to see. “Could you take these off?”

Brow furrowed, Phaedrus approached, unlocking my bonds. “Why would he be disappointed?” He asked quietly.

I breathed in relief when the shackles slid off. Cupping my arm, I rubbed my sore wrists. “He was hoping this place would be utterly foreign. The boy’s a bookworm who was planning to fill a novel with notes.”

“I haven’t seen this country in person before,” Phaedrus admitted. “From how Seraphim describes Duath Nun, fashion might be the last similarity we share.”

I whirled around, accidentally slapping him in the face with my hair. “Three conditions,” I blurted out.

“Declare your offer with confidence, not with last-minute amendments.”

“Don’t quote Ainwir to me,” I seethed. Swallowing, I spoke cordially. “The Guild stays here. I don’t want them coming with us.”

“Deal. I intended to let them return home, anyhow.” He paused. “Take what time you need, but don’t be long.” Turning, he swept out the door and shut it behind him.

The tension in my muscles waned. Phaedrus didn’t seem the type of man to take advantage of a shackled woman, but the thought had worried me nonetheless.

Flexing my arms, I picked up the dress and carried it to the washroom. Reaching into the basin, I cupped water in my palms and splashed it over my face, soaking my shirt and hair.

I stood there silently, letting the water drip down my face onto my collarbone. Silence enveloped the room, save for the distant crash of waves outside.

I felt like I could stop and think for the first time in months. Dipping my hands back into the basin, I grabbed another handful and ground my fingers into my eyes.

Echoes of the emotions Phaedrus had forced upon me danced in my mind, like thin claws raking against my skull. I shuddered when an unexpected wave of horror or sorrow captured my heart, though I knew not from where the emotions came.

Seth’s face clouded my vision next. His brilliant red eyes gazed at me through the darkness.

His betrayal had taken me by surprise. Stunned and poisoned, I had not considered his parting words.

‘I hate my father more. I won’t let him take you, too.’

Phaedrus claimed horrible things happened to people with my magic. For Seth to claim the same—to speak of a father . . .

A truth slapped me in the face. He called Duath Nun home.

No wonder his accent had sounded foreign to my ears. But why wouldn’t he have shared such an important fact?

Had I ever truly known him at all?

I chuckled. Was Seth even his real name?

The laugh tasted bitter in my throat. Ripping a towel from its hook, I scrubbed my face dry and yanked off my pants and tunic before slipping into my Duath Nun-styled gown.

The neckline was of a cut I’d never seen before, thinning as it reached toward my collarbone, until all that remained was a pair of strings to tie around my neck.

Raking a brush through my hair, I clipped my curls back and glanced over myself in the fogged mirror.

Might as well look nice on my journey to end the world.

Stepping outside, I strode across the cabin and threw open the doors. Phaedrus waited nearby, leaning against the wall as he watched the sea. Noticing me, he straightened out.

“I’m ready,” I said. “Let’s go.”

* * *

After weeks of teasing, Seth had finally gotten me to wear pants, only for me to return to journeying across the wilderness in a pretty skirt.

Maiden’s grace. Had I absolved Ainwir’s good name only to constantly think of Seth, and subsequently curse him?

Some things in life never changed.

Phaedrus walked ahead of me, occasionally glancing back to ensure I was still with him. Earlier in the day, I’d kept pace with the man. With evening’s arrival, my legs protested every new step.

Ignoring my captor’s gaze, I watched the sun set over the sea.

We followed the shore. Phaedrus claimed the denizens of Duath Nun rarely attended their water-locked borders. The Lethe Strait was the only means to safely travel between our countries—the remainder of the sea had been consumed by the Empty long ago.

Out here, we could walk nearly the entire length of the country without running into a single citizen.

Watching the trees swaying under the growing breeze, I reflected on Seraphim’s plans. She had wanted to travel through the cities. Why, if the shore was so much safer?

What else had she been hiding?

“A great deal, I’d imagine,” Phaedrus said.

“Pfft,” I breathed through gritted teeth. “You’re just like your son.”

“Am I?” Phaedrus asked. A hint of curiosity, but also regret, laced his tone.

I moved to respond, but froze. The emotions in Phaedrus’ voice instilled within me the tiniest inkling of an idea.

Did humanity remain in his despondent shell? Could I convince him to change his course?

“What’s he like?” Phaedrus asked.

I swallowed, hoping he hadn’t read my last thoughts. Remembering Ainwir’s lessons on guarding against psyches, I erected walls around my mind.

“Eleos is wonderful.” I trotted to catch up, walking in stride with him. “Spending time with him made all the hardships worth it.”

Phaedrus considered my words. “Were you in love with him?”

“How could I not be? He was kind. Thoughtful. Passionate.” Tilting my head, I studied Phaedrus’ impassable face. “Do you want to meet him?”

“There’s little point.” He shook his head. “I’m no more a father to him than yours was to you.”

“My father didn’t want me. You wanted Eleos.”

“All will fall still, soon. The threads of our existence will cease to be,” Phaedrus said. “There is no point.”

A smile tugged at my lips. Phaedrus hadn’t answered my question. Ainwir had taught me to do the same, to hide a secret I wanted to keep.

Answer truthfully a question they did not ask.

Phaedrus wanted to see Eleos before the end. Even if it was pointless.

Tucking the information safely away, I knitted my hands behind my back. “Your turn. I want to know all about Ainwir the spymaster.”

Abruptly halting, Phaedrus stared into the treeline. Following his gaze, I gasped.

Someone had camped here recently. The ground was disturbed, and remnants of a fire rested in the circle of trees.

Had this been where we’d camped before Seth had lured me away?

I took a step forward, but Phaedrus pulled me back.

“Look there,” he said, nodding toward the pile of charred wood.