Chapter 29 Eleos
Eleos
Tonight was the night. Either we’d gain another advantage in our quest to retake the city, or we’d fall prey to an obvious trap we should have been smart enough to avoid.
The last to arrive, I slipped through the door into the chamber where we’d finalize our plans.
A pile of colorful fabrics sat on the table beside Percy, and he flipped through them with a thoughtful furrow. Seth leaned over the table beside Seraphim, going over a map of the palace he’d drawn from memory. I focused instead on Aethra, who sat on the edge of the table, staring at the far wall.
“Lost in thought?” I asked, leaning beside her.
“Yes.” She blinked, clearing the haze from her eyes. “I’m thinking about my book, actually.”
“Is it good?”
“I—” She chuckled. “You’d think it was silly.”
“I read more than history books. Where do you think I get all my grandiose ideas from?”
“Heh.” She slid off the table. “It’s a Duathi love story. The Morai punish the couple, forcing them to live new lives, but they keep finding one another again. I almost wish I could stay home and finish it.”
“I’m surprised they’d allow a story like that.”
“Well, it wasn’t written by the nobles.” She lowered her voice, noticing Phaedrus staring at her. “What?”
“Can a man not be curious about literature?” He asked dryly.
I was beginning to see why Aethra insisted the two of us were so similar.
“Pff.” Aethra rolled her eyes and looked away.
Seraphim looked up. “Oh, it’s true. Phaedrus had an entire shelf of sappy love stories.”
“Sister,” Phaedrus said sharply, pulling his bangs over his eye. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
Percy looked up. “Of being a backstabbing bitch?”
Suppressing a laugh, I turned back to Aethra.
Summoning my courage, I toyed with the end of my sleeve. “I, um. I never apologized.”
“What for?” She asked. “Seth wanting to apologize, I understand. What have you ever done wrong?”
I winced. “I mean about Aeacus. And what happened with him.”
Aethra shifted, hesitating. “I wasn’t upset for myself. I was worried about you. I know how much your past . . .” She swallowed. “But you did save my life.”
When I said nothing in response, she leaned forward and took my arm.
“I’m no saint. I think bastards deserve to suffer.” She smiled. “And I know you. Whoever you used to be, I can’t fathom him coming back.”
Lifting my head, I met her eye. Would she still think that if she knew the whole truth?
“I’ve done so much worse,” I breathed. “To so many people.”
“So has Seraphim,” Aethra whispered. “And we’re still here, following her.”
Turning, I regarded the red-haired woman down the table. Did she fear the woman she once was?
“Alright.” Seraphim raised her head. “I think I’ve decided how to approach.” She nodded at Seth. “The prince needs guards, in case things go sour. Percy and I are best suited for that.”
“I am?” Percy asked, looking up from his fashion pile.
“We can’t fight a room full of nobles—most are mages. You’ll give us an opening to flee.” She smiled mischievously. “Phae, do you think you can watch the kids?”
He raised his eyebrows, green eyes flicking to me. “Kids?”
“You three will read the room,” Seraphim explained. “And, if you see an opening, rob the palace.”
“Good idea.” Aethra hopped off the table. “Assuming Seth is okay with us looting his treasury?”
“It’s not theft to take what’s yours.” Seth smirked.
Rubbing my head, I focused on the task at hand. “If most of the nobles are mages, won’t psyches in the room read our intentions?”
Seth snorted. “There isn’t a single psyche noble in Duath Nun. Ma’at was the only one.”
“Hm,” Phaedrus hummed. “I hadn’t thought of that. These people don’t seem to bear much compassion.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “Surely some are.”
“You’ll find plenty of chthonics and muses,” Seth explained. “We value art highly, so the latter is most common. But psyches? I’ve never heard of one.”
Even the Merchant Isles had psyche nobles. To think this place had none . . .
“How do they get their magic?” I asked. “I can’t imagine the nobles here suffer.”
“They don’t,” Seth agreed. His hands clenched and he gazed down at his map, as though it were the only thing anchoring him. “Parents torture their children, should they not manifest naturally.”
My eyes fell from his face. The slight quaver in his voice told me all I needed to know.
Haimyx had tortured him for the same reason.
“Eugh,” Percy spat. “I don’t think you could make me hate this scum more.”
Seraphim twisted her bang. “I have plenty of stories, if you want to test that theory.”
Seth waved a hand. “Later. Aethra?” He turned to her. “Don’t take much—just what you can carry. It’ll be more than enough to help fund our growing army.”
“Easy enough,” Phaedrus said. “Nothing three seasoned thieves can’t handle.”
“What about you?” Aethra asked.
“I intend to challenge Eris,” Seth said. “As Ma’at’s’ blood heir, I have the right to duel her in single combat for the throne.” He shrugged. “Eris won’t agree, but denying me will make her look weak.”
“Aha!” Percy interrupted, holding up see-through black fabric. “I have just the thing to dress you up in, Seth.”
“Ugh.” Seth rubbed his eyes.
“Give me five minutes with him, Aethra.” Percy shooed Seth out the door. “You’ll thank me.”
She smiled faintly before regarding the pile of clothes. “I suppose we should get ready, too.”
Nodding, I noticed a few masks scattered beside Percy’s treasure horde.
It would be nice to hide myself behind one again. I could pretend to be someone else entirely tomorrow night.
Or maybe I’d been wearing a mask all this time, and the man who’d been banished from Therapne was my true self.