Chapter 18 Aethra #2
Nodding, she ducked under an inn’s sign and pushed open the door, ushering me inside. I shouldn’t have expected much, but the dismal state of the place disheartened me. Stained, uneven stone floors felt rough under my feet, and the dim lighting painted unfriendly shadows across the low tables.
Striding past me, Seraphim approached the woman who walked by, carrying a basket of towels. Setting her basket down, the woman rubbed a smudge of dirt from her cheek and folded her arms. “Need a room?”
“A friend of a friend recommended your bunkhouse,” Seraphim said. “I’d like to stay the night.”
Though her expression did not change, light entered the woman’s dull eyes. “Come this way, then,” she said, beckoning us to follow her down the stairs.
Dreading the state of the basement, I crept down the old stone steps, breathing in the stuffy air. Lighting a lantern, the innkeeper set it down on a table in the center of the rough stone room.
“Tomorrow sent word you’d be coming,” she said quietly, returning to the foot of the steps after Phaedrus descended to shut a rickety wooden door. “We don’t have much time. If you’re to aid, we’ll need to plan quickly.”
Tomorrow? That must be Cerys’ code name.
“I heard,” Phaedrus drawled, leaning against the wall. “The empty seat of Ma’at has finally been filled.”
Stunned, I whirled to face him. Seth was not going to take this news well.
“By who?” I asked.
“Haimyx’s daughter. Lady Eris,” the innkeeper said. “Her first procession through the city is this evening. And we’re going to show the king what a mistake it was to overwrite our lady’s legacy.”
Lll
I understood why Seraphim had wanted Phaedrus and me on this job. Discreetly destroying your enemy without weapons was right up our alley.
A thick crowd gathered in the square, nervously awaiting the arrival of their new lord. Even the young faces wore sketches of anger—Ma’at must have been beloved in life, to grow larger in legend after death.
Or perhaps she had simply represented the last tide of resistance left in this world.
Slipping between two men, I eyed the platform where Lady Eris would give her speech. A statue of Ma’at rose from its center, arms spread wide, wings enveloping her back.
Great pillars rose in a circular pattern around the perimeter of the square, framing the road by which the new lady would arrive. Guards stood at alert, clearing a path from the western entrance to the platform.
Our plan was simple: scattered in the crowd, we would draw the guards’ attention in multiple directions.
Seraphim would wound one of the knights, while I would cause a distraction, pointing them toward the wrong culprit.
Phaedrus would slip inside another knight’s mind, forcing him to disobey orders and refuse to attack.
Hopefully, the show would result in Eris appearing to have no control over her knights and no power to keep herself or her people safe.
A small thing. But enough small things could eventually turn the tide.
Seraphim touched my back and glared over my head at her brother. “If you leave without her . . .”
Phaedrus rolled his eyes. “Think, sister. Even if I wanted to betray you, I need the girl alive.”
“I can’t believe I used to think you were funny.” Seraphim squeezed my shoulder. “We’ll meet back where we started.”
Nodding, I touched her arm. “Don’t get caught.”
Winking, she slipped through the crowd, taking her position at the other side of the square.
Gasps and murmurs swept through the gathering as heads swiveled toward the west. Bowing my head, I searched for the Seraphim in the crowd, but she had vanished.
Blaring horns rang through the square, and everyone dropped to their knees. Joining them, I lifted one eye to watch the spectacle.
Hades Knights in ebony armor marched at the head, bearing glaives tipped with jagged blades. Commander Aeacus led them, though his blood lion was absent today. The new lady of the city arrived on a throne carried by four men, nearly hidden by the crimson drapes hanging from its sides.
Eris was strikingly beautiful. Long black waves framed her snow-white skin, and scarlet eyes rolled lazily around the crowd. Her resemblance to Seth was all too obvious. Sharp jaws, sharp cheekbones—every feature of their faces matched.
Seth had described Eris as little more than a scapegoat. A sacrifice worth making to strengthen his son—the one heir who mattered.
Did she harbor a grudge toward Seth or Haimyx?
The laborers set the throne down, and she gracefully stepped from the seat onto the platform, a long black gown flowing behind her. It hugged her waist and revealed a generous portion of her bosom—she had confidence to spare.
Smiling sweetly, Lady Eris waited for her men to join her on stage before she addressed the crowd. “Nearly twenty years have passed since we lost Lady Ma’at. She was this city’s beacon of light, a monarch for whom there could be no replacement. Few miss her as dearly as I.”
Eris’ voice carried the same accent as Seth’s—the words flowed together as though hissed by a snake. She sounded friendly, even genuine.
“In her honor, we left her throne empty. Her steward carried on her duties as my dear mother would have wished.” Her head tilted to the other side. “But they have failed you of late.”
Someone new joined her on the stage—a nobleman in golden armor under an embroidered toga. My heart skipped a beat when I took in his choppy silver hair and matching eyes.
Icelus. His wretched piano notes hummed in my memories.
“Traitors hide among you,” Eris continued.
My eyes flashed around the crowd, waiting for Seraphim to move.
“Threatening our peaceful way of life. Threatening to upend everything you have labored for,” the lady said. “My father has appointed me to inherit Ma’at’s throne. To restore order to her beloved home.”
So that was why Haimyx had been in the city.
“Perhaps you have heard the whispers.” Eris’ eyes drifted across the crowd.
“The traitors seek the death of the gods. They would strip our blessings, our protections from you, for they understand little of the consequences. Life would drain for the very soul. Famine would strike. War would rage anew. But they would happily pay for their ‘freedom’ with the blood of your children.”
There. Seraphim slipped to the front of the crowd, the barest hint of a spark held between her fingers.
“But we will protect you,” Eris promised earnestly. “As we always have. From strife. From suffering.”
A plume of smoke shot toward the sky. One of the ebony knights jerked forward as a flaming scythe spun around him and pierced through his throat. Blood streamed down his chest plate, a match for the scarlet cloak he wore.
Seraphim’s scythe vanished, and her smoke spread, covering both sides of the platform—perfect.
Raising my voice, I pointed my head down and shouted. “These so-called ‘gods’ have betrayed Lady Ma’at!”
Chaos broke out. Many in the crowd rose in a panic as the remaining knights drew their weapons. Others threw themselves back to the ground, afraid to rise in the presence of a goddess.
Two knights spun in my direction while the rest charged toward Seraphim. I remained kneeling, hoping they’d overlook me in their search.
Someone in front of me shot to their feet, intending to run. A woman, tall with light hair. Noticing the sudden movement, the Hades Knights locked eyes on her and pointed.
“Seize her!” The taller knight barked.
His comrade drew his glaive, but the taller man grabbed his arm, pushing the weapon down.
“What are you doing?” the shorter knight hissed, trying to pull his weapon out of the other man’s grip.
Phaedrus’ doing. They’d found a culprit—the wrong one—and we could slip away unseen.
Time to go. Rising, I searched for Eris across the chaotic square. Several knights flanked her closely, escorting her from the danger.
Someone slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. Dazed, I held my arms above my head as people stampeded past, fleeing. A pair of boots connected with my ribs as a man nearly trampled me.
Phaedrus grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. “Are you alright?”
Blinking the smog from my eyes, I stared up at the red-haired noble in surprise. “Fine,” I said.
All I could see in every direction was bodies and smoke. Locking eyes on the pillars rising above the rooftops, I took a step toward them.
A horrible shriek pierced the air. I froze. While the two Hades Knights wrestled with one another, Lord Icelus pushed through the crowd and seized the arm of the fair-haired woman they’d targeted.
“Let’s go,” Phaedrus ordered, pulling me away.
“But they’ll kill her,” I protested.
“Yes, that’s the point,” he whispered harshly. “So we get away.”
Setting my jaw, I ripped from his grip. “The old you would have gone back for her.” Turning on my heel, I ran to her side.
She and Icelus were too close—hit him, and I’d strike her. Aiming instead for the ground by their feet, I summoned a surge of hope—hope that maybe I could help these people. That I could save Phaedrus from himself.
Silence blanketed the world, and Icelus looked up in fear. The next moment, a crevasse cracked through the road, creating a narrow chasm at his feet. The splintering rock sounded like a powerful drum beat after the unnatural stillness.
Gasping, Icelus dropped the woman and staggered away. Grabbing her arm, I whirled her around and pushed. “Go!” I shouted.
Heeding my order, she stumbled in Phaedrus’ direction, disappearing into the smoke.
I intended to follow. To run. But I looked back.
Icelus’ silver eyes widened when he saw my face. I froze.
My body wouldn’t move, my mind wouldn’t think. I was back in the Duat, lying on the floor with his boot on my shoulder, the metal toe digging into my stab wound. Another blade plunged into my opposite arm, over and over.
Stumbling, I grabbed my throbbing shoulder. Icelus stalked toward me and grabbed my throat, fingers digging into my skin.
The visions cleared, and I found myself face-to-face with my torturer.
“I knew it,” Icelus whispered. “You are exactly who I believed you to be.”
In the jumbled panic of my thoughts, I managed to think a single word.
“Seth!”