Chapter 2 Eleos
Eleos
Everything had felt perfect when we landed. A few hours later, it all fell apart.
I’d been excited to arrive in Duath Nun. An entire uncharted country lay before us, filled with unfamiliar architecture, cultures, and people. Now that I stood in the midst of its city, my mind dwelt on the one thing that wasn’t here.
Squeezing through the crowd, I sloshed into a puddle just to escape the press of bodies and breathe. Percy chased after me, doubling over to catch his breath. White strands of hair escaped from his feathered hat.
“Seas,” he panted. “I never thought this place would be so crowded.”
“Did you think it would be empty?” I asked.
“Honestly, yes.” Percy stood. “In my head, it was just a barren wasteland—like it is on our maps.”
“Perse. You’re supposed to be a muse. Creative.”
“I’m a bard, not a calligrapher.”
“Cartographer.”
Waving a hand to dismiss me, Percy brushed back his hair. “But, gods, it’s incredible, isn’t it?”
Seraphim had described the city of Naunet as a ‘little border town.’ If she spoke true, I could hardly imagine the splendor of Duath Nun’s capital.
Grand stone edifices, multiple stories tall, lined broad streets, their edges gilded with gold. Thick ivy hung from windowsills, and tiled roads stretched to even the poorest homes.
The smile washed from Percy’s face, and he fidgeted with his disguise: a decidedly less flamboyant white tunic hemmed with runes.
“See anything?” Percy asked.
“No,” I said.
“There’s only a thousand miles of city left. I guess we can keep looking.” Percy touched his hair self-consciously, but there was no need.
Seraphim insisted people here did not fear the tainted. Thus far, Percy had received no more interested glances than I.
Noticing my reflection in the puddle, my gaze caught on the sage-green eyes staring back at me.
Fingers trembling, I ran my hands through my hair, searching the city not with my eyes, but with my mind.
Opening myself to the world, I let the surrounding chorus of thoughts in, hoping to hear Aethra’s voice among the sea.
A cacophony swarmed inside my head. Errant thoughts from a thousand people.
I’d done this often, whenever I needed to find someone I couldn’t see. While happiness, excitement, and love flooded into my thoughts, so too did oppressive darkness. The Merchant Isles were filled with wretched souls and those lost in despair.
But the despair I felt here was entirely different. Relentless horror lurked under quiet everyday thoughts. Dread formed in the depths of my throat and rang in my ears, as though a note the people sang in harmony.
Pressing a hand to my stomach, I doubled over beneath its assault.
Someone grabbed my arm and yanked me back. A wagon rolled by, missing my nose by inches.
“Careful,” Seth said, dusting me off. “This is a bad place to get lost in your thoughts.”
“Thanks,” I said, looking the man up and down. On the surface, he was nothing remarkable: the unusual red eyes stood out, and his black waves fell into the collar of his dark coat, obscuring him in shadow.
I didn’t trust Seth. He wore easy smiles and joked freely. Whenever we faced danger, he recklessly threw us into even greater danger in his efforts to rescue us. All good things, on the surface.
But walls shielded his thoughts—his true self.
I knew he wouldn’t hurt Aethra. I knew that. But I had my doubts, nonetheless.
Seth had been with her when our camp was attacked. They’d been returning from a private conversation when strange shadows had sprung from the trees.
During the chaos, she’d been separated from us. But how was I to believe that Seth, who hovered over her like an overprotective guardian, would simply let her out of his sight?
Percy squeezed between us. “There you are. Any luck?”
Seth’s scarlet eyes narrowed. “Don’t you think I would have brought Aethra, had I found her?”
“Oh.” Percy’s shoulders slumped. “You’re sure she’s here?”
“That’s what Whisper thinks—and he’s usually right.”
Biting the inside of my lip, I glanced away. What if Whisper had made a mistake?
Leaning forward, Percy studied Seth’s face. “You’re calmer than I expected,” he noted.
“I guess.” Seth stepped back.
“It’s unlike you,” I agreed. “Normally you’re—”
“Impulsive?” Seth placed a hand on his hip. “Oh, trust me, I will be the moment we find her.”
If he lied, he lied well. Shifting my focus from the people to the assassin, I tried again to read his thoughts.
A solid wall pushed me out. Whatever swam beneath the surface, I would never know.
Percy’s head whipped around. “Whoa . . . what’s that?”
Following his gaze, I noticed something sticking out above the throng of people. A banner waved in the breeze, painted with an elaborate white eye. The barest glimpse of an arm, covered in golden armor, held the banner aloft.
“Shit,” Seth hissed, grabbing Percy and dragging him through the crowd. He pushed the bard behind a pair of pillars holding up a shop’s balcony.
Standing on my toes, I tried to see what approached. Spears strapped to armored backs glinted in the sun around the strange eye.
Soldiers. Just the thing we wanted to avoid in a country where foreigners were slaughtered.
Pulling my scarf around my face, I hurried after them, pressing my back to a pillar beside Seth.
Shoving himself between us, Percy inspected his fingernails idly, one eye glued to the road.
A wave of motion swept over the crowds as the people fell prostrate. Catching Percy’s eye, I motioned for him to do the same, noticing how many pressed their heads to the ground—a gesture not even the Merchant Isles’ king would receive.
We knelt as the stream of knights marched past. Gleaming gold breastplates shielded their chests, and broad helms shaped like a cobra’s hood covered their heads. Flowing capes of delicate silver streamed behind them.
An enormous float followed. Eight men bore it on their backs, carrying a platform fit for a queen. The white-eye banner rose from the seat atop it, shading the woman for whom people bowed.
White hair streamed down her back, pleated in braids ornamented with silver and gold. A voluminous gown of white and deepest blue pooled at her feet, embroidered with golden stars and celestial signs. She glanced in our direction, gray eyes sweeping the crowd.
A tainted? Staring into her eyes, I tried to pierce her mind.
No walls guarded her thoughts. They rushed to me freely. A tangle of emotions swelled within, chaotic, messy, and tense. A deep worry clawed at her chest, but also anxiety—something equal parts significant and perilous approached.
Her face held still, confident. But her lip trembled, ever so slightly.
Steel walls slammed around her mind, throwing me out. Hastily looking down, I prayed she hadn’t spotted me.
Seth kicked Percy in the shin with a painful thud. Startled, I glanced back at my companions.
Maiden’s grace. Percy was gawping like he’d never seen a woman before. One of her guards had taken notice. The man’s head twisted in our direction, and I could feel the withering ire billowing off him.
Scowling, Seth kicked again, aiming a little higher—toward the delicate region between the legs.
That caught Percy’s attention. He started, eyes swiveling to Seth with fury before he noticed the enraged knight staring daggers at him, and he hastily bowed his head.
The procession marched on, the crowd remaining prostrate long after the last soldier escorting the woman had turned down the next street. Rising, Seth flipped off his hood and spat a curse.
“We need to go,” he said, turning on his heel.
“Who was that?” Percy asked dreamily.
“The Oracle.”
“An Oracle? Like a fortune teller?” Percy remained behind with me, though Seth had started walking away. “She seemed more like a queen to me.”
Seth threw up his hands. “I don’t know the details. That’s just what Seraphim told me.”
“What about Aethra? Shouldn’t we keep looking?”
“We’ll be no help to her if we get captured.” Seth paused, noticing we didn’t follow. “And if the nobility sees us, we will be captured.”
Nodding, Percy glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve never seen another tainted before,” he murmured.
Curiosity got the better of me. I probed into Percy’s mind, wondering if he felt more than his typical lust. Wonder blanketed his thoughts, growing into an insatiable need.
A need to speak with someone who had chosen to stand at the precipice and turn back. As he had.
Shaking himself from his stupor, Percy caught up with Seth, but I didn’t follow. The crowd dusted themselves off and returned to their day, carrying goods and flitting between shops. Pulling out my journal, I flipped to an empty page and plucked my quill from its binding.
I froze, staring at the pen bound in Cynthus leather. The pen Aethra had given me.
I’d never loved anyone the way I did her. For how eloquent I typically was, I could never quite put my feelings into words. They were not like Seth’s, not like those of normal men.
Perhaps there was no reason to complicate my desires: for her to be near, and safe.
Taking a breath, I jotted down a few notes, reminding myself that Seth was right. Aethra was clever. She would have traveled to the city after we were separated, hidden herself, and searched for us.
Once I’d jotted down the noblewoman’s appearance and strange procession, I snapped my journal closed and hurried after the others. I passed under a thick plant growing along a pillar and stopped to pluck one of its flowers and leaves.
Pale pink petals, unusual cord-like vines—another new species. Tucking the plant into my bag, I ducked between two men carrying heavy barrels and followed the congested roads back to the unassuming inn Seraphim had chosen.
Dim light from a fogged lantern illuminated our shady little inn. Pulling out a chair, I dropped my journal on the rickety wooden table and sat. Seth trotted down the stairs, Whisper in tow. The wiry gray dog slipped beneath my boots and laid down.