Chapter 4 Aethra
Aethra
Duath Nun was quiet. Just me, Phaedrus, and the sea.
And the sand stuck in my shoes.
Mountains rose behind the forest, formed from sandy rock the likes of which I’d never seen. I stared at them longingly as we walked, wondering what lay beyond, in the heart of Duath Nun.
A stiff breeze swept over the beach, throwing Phaedrus’ red locks wild. He paused, grabbing his cloak to keep it from flying off his shoulders. Catching up to him, I played with the string of my satchel, trying to come up with something to say.
The wind stilled. Phaedrus’ hair settled, and he turned to look at me. “I had a feeling this might happen.”
“What, exactly?” I asked.
“Seth,” he said, brushing back his bangs. Without another word, he trudged on.
Keeping pace, I pursed my lips. “Don’t stop there. What about him?”
“I had a feeling he was going to slip poison in your drink and abandon you in a hole somewhere.”
“You could’ve mentioned that.”
“Why would I?” He shrugged. “It benefited me rather nicely. In fact, I was counting on it in case you escaped the manor.” He paused, looking down at me. “Which you did, if you recall.”
“Are you trying to be lighthearted now?” I raised an eyebrow. “What did you see in Seth’s thoughts?”
“Panic.” Phaedrus rubbed his neck. “He hid it remarkably well, but inside he was a kettle primed to burst. I suppose you didn’t notice the lingering gazes he threw at you every other moment?”
I hadn’t noticed any such thing. Tripping on a rock, I stumbled over myself, dragging my sandal through the sand and filling it with the little kernels of despair. Cursing, I righted myself.
I was supposed to be a con-woman. How had I not seen through him?
“Seth is not what he seems,” Phaedrus said. “He fooled everyone.”
“Eleos was polite enough not to read my mind all the time, you know.”
“Well, I’m not.”
Staring into the treeline, I resisted the urge to ask my next question. Curiosity consumed me, and I gave in. “What is Seth like, then?”
Phaedrus paused again, gazing at me with an even expression. “First Ainwir, now Seth. You think an awful lot about people you claim to hate.”
Eleos had said nearly the same damn thing. But when I had nothing, what else was there to think about besides what I’d lost?
“I’m pathetic,” I said. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“There’s no need to say it aloud. I read it quite clearly.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but noticed a tiny half-smile on Phaedrus’ mouth. Oh, gods. The son and the father were too much alike.
“Seth is not his real name,” Phaedrus offered, turning on his heel and continuing the hike.
“I knew it,” I muttered under my breath, trailing behind him.
Staring at the sand, I forced the stupid man from my thoughts. Seth had been irritating, anyway. Cold one moment, hot the next. I had fallen for Eleos first because he’d been steady. Even. Dependable.
Seth kept too many secrets and had pulled away one too many times. And I, being stupid, had ignored all the warning signs because he was pretty.
. . . and because he’d held me so tightly while whispering so gently that he’d keep me safe.
Shaking the words from my mind, I looked up in time to see Phaedrus whirl around and grab my shoulders. Gasping, I let him propel me into the woods.
“Company,” Phaedrus whispered harshly, nodding north.
Sealing my mouth shut, I peered around his shoulders, following his gaze. From behind our concealing tree, I could hear movement in the woods: numerous boots crunching through fallen leaves and branches. Voices speaking with a foreign accent carried through the forest.
Phaedrus was probably reading my thoughts. Furrowing my brow, I thought at him. “I thought men didn’t come this way.”
“They don’t.” His voice pierced my mind. “Seraphim assured me of that.”
“Maybe something changed.”
“Maybe,” Phaedrus agreed. “If they see us—”
“We talk, then run.”
“Ainwir taught you well.”
“How do you think I survived this long?” I leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of who drew near.
Men marched through the trees, mere shadows at first. One broke through the wood line and stepped onto the shore, and I gaped at his regal attire.
Ebony black armor gleamed in the sunlight, strapped over a blood red toga. Black wings wrapped his helm, like a vulture in flight.
Worse, every man who emerged after him was clad in identical armor. These were elite knights, not mere guards.
“Hades Knights.” Phaedrus thought, eyes fixed on the imposing men. “The king’s honored guard.”
A final knight followed the rest: their commander. A fur mantle crowned his exquisite armor, and a red sash hung from his helm. His gaze swept the beach, and he barked an order I didn’t catch.
“We need to go.” Phaedrus grabbed my wrist and pulled me up.
Hurrying after him, I avoided every twig and leaf that littered the ground. We weaved silently through the woods, away from the beach, and for a moment I thought we’d managed to slip away unseen.
For only a moment.
A streak of crimson flashed past my eyes. Blood. It gathered into a mass before me. Digging my heels into the ground, I tried to stop before I ran into it.
The blood took shape, growing limbs and a toothy maw. A scarlet lion lunged at my chest, knocking me to the ground and planting its enormous paws on my shoulders, pushing me down into a pile of leaves. Its mane dripped blood onto my face as it snarled, its lifeless eyes watching my every move.
The commander with the fur-lined cape stood over me, deep brown eyes gazing down at my face.
“There you are.” His voice was harsh and deep.
Phaedrus spoke next, his voice so different I hardly recognized it at first. Nearly an octave higher, his tone had lost its noble accent and was strained with terror.
“Please, my lord.” He fell to a knee. “My daughter has done nothing wrong.”
“Don’t speak unless you have to.” He spoke into my mind.
Gods, he was good at this. We really were cut from the same cloth.
Taking up my role, I stared in fear at the lion, but the emotion was mostly genuine.
“What are you doing out here?” The commander demanded.
“Searching for herbs,” Phaedrus said, groveling in fear. “My son was born sickly.”
The commander glanced between us and flicked his wrist. Weight lifted from my shoulders as the lion stepped off of me. Nervously rising to my feet, I flinched when the commander grabbed my chin and tilted my face up.
The man scrutinized my face, searching every line and pore. After a moment, he released me, and I staggered back. Phaedrus grabbed my shoulders, pulling me toward him like a loving father. I responded in kind, shrinking against him like I trusted him with my life.
“Are . . .” Phaedrus stuttered. “Are we free to go?”
“This girl’s not the one I seek,” the commander said. “But your daughter is beautiful. I could think of other ways she could make herself useful.” His eyes scoured my body, and a couple of his men laughed.
Phaedrus’ hands tightened on my shoulder.
Staring at the man’s blood lion, I regretted not learning to fight. Seth’s sparring lessons wouldn’t help me against this enemy. He could overpower me with ease.
Waving a hand, the commander spoke in a softer tone. “I’m only joking. Hurry home before night falls.”
“Thank you.” Phaedrus bowed graciously, steering me away.
“One more thing,” the commander barked. We froze, heeding his command.
I held my breath.
“Have you seen anyone else in these parts?”
Relief flashed across Phaedrus’ face before he slowly turned. I could see thoughts swimming in his sage green eyes as he quickly came up with an answer.
He never got to voice it.
A crimson blade whizzed past my shoulder, narrowly missing my arm before flying toward the commander’s chest. His lion intercepted it, leaping toward the blade and catching it in his mouth. Both the sword and the lion’s teeth dissolved into liquid blood upon impact.
A second blade whizzed over my head, bending mid-flight to soar around the commander before striking him in the back. Gritting his teeth, the commander yanked the blade out, and a thin trail of blood streamed down his side.
Blood blades. Could it be . . .?
Drawing his sword, the commander barked an order. “Take the woman alive!”
Yanking halberds from their backs, the Hades Knights spread out, surrounding us.
Phaedrus shoved me behind him. “Stay back,” he barked. Bloody vines rose through the air, whipping around him. One grabbed my ankle and tossed me away.
I hit the ground and rolled over myself, twigs and leaves catching in my hair. Pressing my palms into the dirt, I pulled myself up and tried to make sense of the chaos unfolding around me.
Blood whirled through the air as multiple chthonics clashed. Armored men darted between the trees—two slashed at Phaedrus’ vines while the commander lunged at a dark figure who burst from between the trees.
The steel blade crashed against the crimson longsword the dark figure clutched. A fourth ebony knight darted around the shadow’s back and slashed for his neck.
Fire burst through the trees as a flaming scythe whirled through the air and slammed into the knight’s back, throwing him off balance. Seraphim leaped over a fallen log and retrieved her weapon, red skirt whipping around her legs as she spun the scythe.
A knight broke away from the fight to rush me, but he stopped mid-stride, hands grabbing for his head. Specters swirled around him, moaning like the dead—it almost sounded like a haunting chorus.
Percy was somewhere nearby—that was his magic.
“Lady Aethra!” A familiar, calm voice called.
“Eleos?” I called back.
A man dressed in white robes skidded down a hill and landed by my side. He grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him, soft face drinking mine in with relief.
His eyes gleamed sage-green, colored by the reassuring light his father’s lacked.
The relief on Eleos’ face vanished. Hauling me up, he threw me behind him and drew the sword at his hip. The scarlet lion pounded through the woods, heading straight toward us.