Chapter 46
Aethra
Percy had been fawning over Athena for the better part of an hour. He cupped her snout between his hands, rubbing her happily.
“Who’s a beautiful beast of legend?” He cooed.
Neighing, Athena bounced on her hooves. Stepping back, Percy beamed at me and adjusted his feathered hat. “Can I borrow her? Cerys still needs an escort, you know.”
“If you take good care of her,” I said.
“Only the best!” He insisted, placing a hand on her neck. “She’s a member of the team, you know.”
“I think you just want to show off.” Chuckling, I traced Athena’s wingspan. “Did you cast a spell on her? I recall you singing her the Pegasus’ song.”
“Alas, I don’t have that kind of power.” His eyes shimmered. “What if I could turn songs into reality? I’d give us all the most incredible wardrobes.”
Snorting, I shook my head.
“Tell Seth where I’ll be!” Percy implored, before returning to fawning over my horse.
“I will.” Unfolding my arms, I pushed off the stable and walked down the staggered stone path. Reaching out for one of the rose bushes, I plucked a flower and twirled it between my fingers.
Seth descended from the palace stairs, flanked by a pair of Ma’at knights. Most had acknowledged Set’s triumph over Eris—even if neither had played by the rules. Outnumbered, the remaining Hades Knights had no choice but to wait for further orders.
It wasn’t a comfortable victory, but it was the best we could hope for. Some of the veteran knights had been thrilled to accept Seth—I’d felt the emotions behind their stoic faces.
Bowing, one of the Ma’at knights spun on his heel and marched off. Seth turned to the other man, but he noticed me out of the corner of his eye and held up a hand, instructing the soldier to wait.
Whisper bounded beside Seth, a royal purple bandanna wrapped around his neck. I smiled as the matching pair approached me.
“Decorating the royal hound?” I asked, offering Whisper a hand.
“He looks handsome, don’t you think?” Seth said proudly.
Rubbing Whisper’s head, I held out the rose. “For the prince.”
“Flowers, for me?” He took my little gift and kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.”
“I’d be astonished if you weren’t.” Nerves fluttered in my chest, and I bit my lip. “How long do you think it will take for a message from the capital to arrive?”
“A while, yet.” Seth knelt, tucking the rose into Whisper’s new collar. “Try to relax, princess. You’re not fully healed yet.”
“No one is.”
“We,” he said sharply, “did not burst at the seams.”
I glanced down at my bandaged arms. Our night in the garden had ripped a few of my cuts back open.
Taking my hands in his, Seth kissed me, letting his lips linger on mine. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised.
“You better be,” I murmured.
Staring at me intently, Seth cupped my face in his hands and traced his thumbs across my cheek.
“What?” I breathed.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I came to a decision last night. I can’t walk away from my mother’s legacy.
And I don’t want to, anymore.” Removing one of his hands, he ran it through my hair.
“Mother was beloved. In all her years, she never let slip her hold on her city. But she still put me first, shirking duties to be there, if I needed her.”
“Seth, I’m not nearly as important as—”
“You’re more important,” he said. “I will not lose the one I love to a crown. Should we brave the Acheron—and succeed—I’ll only have this one life. I intend to spend it with you.”
Wrapping my hand around his, I pulled it from my cheek. “Yes, but . . . this palace doesn’t overlook the river.”
Seth beamed. “I know. But you’re a ragtag urchin from the sewers. I couldn’t imagine you living in any palace.” He squeezed my hand. “I’ll have to build you a little house. Near Mother’s garden.”
“Not bad. I think you’ve nearly groveled enough to earn forgiveness.”
He chuckled and turned away, holding my hand until we could no longer reach one another, and our fingers slipped apart. Returning to his soldier, he departed the gates, the royal hound at his heels.
Sighing, I danced up the steps and entered the palace. It felt strange for our little ragtag group to have made a temporary home in such a glamorous place. Following the hall of statues, I found the parlor. Eleos and Seraphim stood by the mantle, talking quietly.
They finished their conversation as I approached. Seraphim turned to leave, but paused by my side.
She took a deep breath. “I’m exhausted.”
I laughed. “I didn’t realize you ever tired.”
She chuckled. “We only have a few days to rest.” Taking my chin, she turned my head. “Your color’s not quite returned. Take it easy today. Maybe finish the book you were glued to in the tunnels.”
“That sounds great, actually.”
Smiling, Seraphim looked like she wanted to say something more, but changed her mind. Squeezing my shoulder, she walked away.
Joining Eleos by the mantle, I glanced over the stack of parchment in his arms.
He sighed. “Seraphim fired the old scribe and steward. And the bookkeeper. I’m doing the jobs of all three, right now.”
“Why?”
“They were loyal to Eris.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “Do you need any help?”
“No. I don’t trust anyone but me, anyway.”
“Are you sure?” Tilting my head, I studied his face. His skin was pale, his eyes shadowed. Walls still defended his mind, keeping his thoughts from me. “Are you okay, El?”
“Fine.”
“You can talk to me, you know?”
“I know.”
Unsatisfied, I wrestled the stack of papers from him and set them on the coffee table. Before he could grab them back, I wrapped him in a hug.
Eleos froze. He hesitated for a long moment. I almost pulled away.
Finally, he enveloped me in his arms and pulled me close. I reached for his mind again, but he wouldn’t let me in.
“El . . .”
“I’ve lost count,” he murmured into my hair. “How many times have you and Seth asked if I’m alright?”
“We’re worried about you.”
“I’m okay,” he promised, smoothing down my hair. “And if I’m not, I will be once we know the next steps of the plan.”
I didn’t want to let him go, but he pushed me back.
“There’s still a long road left,” he said quietly. “And for how difficult this was, approaching the Acheron will be much worse. To say nothing of what might await us within.”
“I know.” I looked down.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He gathered up his papers. “I have a lot of paperwork to do.”
I lingered by the fire, listening to his footsteps as he walked away. Raising my head, I called after him. “El?”
He paused and glanced back.
“I love you,” I said.
Surprised, Eleos stared at me.
Maiden’s grace. I’d never said those words to him before.
Finally, he smiled—that thin half-smirk I loved so much. “No words exist in any language that could do justice to my feelings for you, Lady Aethra.”
Feeling a bit better, I let him leave. Once he vanished down the next hall, I fidgeted by the fire, eventually deciding to take a short walk before settling down to read.
Raking my curls up into a braid, I found my way back outside, grateful no one tried to stop me on my way out the gates.
The city was relatively calm, despite the recent catastrophes. People went about their day, running their stalls, carrying their wares. Many had died in the western districts, and repairs would take a long time. But people were oddly resilient.
Even with Eris gone, the song of dread remained. I imagined it would for some time. They had no reason to think Seth would treat them any differently. No reason to believe anything in their lives would change.
I didn’t want to think about it today.
A familiar figure leaned on a quiet wall, watching the people coming and going. Phaedrus’ red hair tousled under the breeze, and he tossed a small rock in his hand. Despite the stark difference in their appearances, he reminded me so much of Ainwir.
“Taking a break?” I asked, joining him.
“If you didn’t know,” he drawled sarcastically. “I’m not technically a member of your little band, and therefore am not responsible for anything you do.”
“Right.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been ordered to relax. Want to take a walk?”
“I don’t see why not.” He shrugged his cloak around his shoulders and followed me.
Walking along the channel’s border, I watched our reflection in the water. “How did you know I could save Athena?”
“I didn’t,” Phaedrus admitted, tucking his hands in his pockets. “But I remembered that old play and thought, hell, if hydras and chimeras are real, why not that story about the Pegasus?”
“I don’t believe you,” I said. “You know everything, I swear.”
“That’s simply not true, Aethra.” He froze in his tracks.
Joining his side, I followed his line of sight. “What?”
“Is that . . . ?” He trailed off.
Sweeping the crowd, I spotted what had caught his eye. A tall man stood near a fruit stand, dark-haired and sharp-nosed. An elegant cloak draped his back, trailing down to his handsome, embroidered boots.
“Ainwir?” I asked. “You see him, too?”
“I do,” Phaedrus said, his voice like a trance. Lunging forward, he marched toward the figure.
No one had ever seen Ainwir before. Jogging to keep up with Phaedrus’ pace, I felt my heart thump rapidly. What if . . . ?
Ainwir turned, walking down a side road before we reached him. Deep down, I knew he would vanish into a dead-end. But if even a chance remained to see him again, I would take it.
Phaedrus pursued him relentlessly. Every time we lost sight of Ainwir, we’d catch a glimpse of his cloak sweeping around a corner, and Phaedrus would resume the chase.
Thrice now, Ainwir’s ghost had led me to something important. Maybe there was one last thing I—and Phaedrus—needed to see.
We reached the northern gates, a quieter part of the city, where few people came and went. Ainwir strode through the gates, following the road. Phaedrus finally paused, hesitating before we exited the city walls.
Panting, I caught my breath beside him.
His brow furrowed. “He’s leading us somewhere,” he murmured. “Just as Ma’at led Seth.”
“Then we should follow him, no?” I asked.
Without answering, Phaedrus jogged after Ainwir. Taking a deep breath, I chased after him.
I didn’t feel foolish for pursuing my ghosts this time—Phaedrus was more than capable of protecting me.
We’d hardly left the walls behind when a deep mist fell over us, blanketing the dunes and obscuring the nearby river. Phaedrus continued on, unabated, leaving me no choice but to quicken my pace lest I lose him.
As quickly as it had arrived, the mist abruptly waned. I bumped into Phaedrus’ back as I emerged from the fog. “I don’t like this,” I said. “I think we should—”
My mind blanked. Ainwir stood in front of us, hands folded on the hilt of his dagger. His deep brown eyes landed on me. Looked at me. My heart melted, and I stumbled forward, reaching for him.
As my fingers brushed his cloak, the illusion shattered. Ainwir’s perfect form dissolved into a fountain of blood vaguely shaped like a person. I stumbled back in horror as the man who’d looked so much like my mentor burst apart in a shower of crimson rain.
“Strange, isn’t it?” A powerful voice boomed from the mist. “The ghosts that haunt this land between life and death.”
I hadn’t noticed the fog hanging behind Ainwir—until now. Haimyx stepped from its shroud, scarlet eyes landing on me. Countless tattoos riddled his chest, and more hid behind the black mantle hanging from his shoulders.
Stepping back, I nearly lost my balance. Haimyx reached me with a single pace, grabbing my neck.
“You . . .” I gasped. “You created those ghosts?”
“Some,” he said. “This one? Yes.” He looked up, an arrogant smirk on his lips. “Mortals from your realm always fail to grasp true godhood. Have you not felt it? The magic that pulses beneath this land?”
I had. When I first stepped on Duath Nun’s soil, I’d felt something, though I’d not understood at the time.
Haimyx tilted my head. “I underestimated you. My apologies.”
He wasn’t talking to me. Not wanting to believe the truth, I looked to Phaedrus, but what I saw there only confirmed my fears.
“I’m a good actor,” Phaedrus said. “Though it took longer than I expected.”
Pain raked through my heart—enough to break me from my frozen horror. Jerking backward, I yanked my sword free from its scabbard and drove it through Haimyx’s gut.
Blood poured from the wound, and my hands shook on the hilt. Haimyx peered down at me, humor in his red eyes. Taking my hand in his, he ripped the blade from his flesh and knelt to meet my eye.
“There is nothing in this world or the next,” he breathed, “that can kill the god of life and death.”
The skin on his abdomen knit back together, and the wound sealed itself shut.
All this time, I assumed he was another arrogant bastard. Another noble playing at divinity.
I was wrong. Haimyx was the real thing.
A god.
The fog shrouding the dunes behind Haimyx dissolved into droplets of blood that stained the sands scarlet. Another chthonic spell.
An army stood behind him. Legions upon legions of men in ebony armor gathered behind their king, prepared for battle.
“She’s a stubborn one.” Haimyx raised his voice. “See to it she doesn’t hurt herself any further.”
Phaedrus grabbed me and pressed a vial of foul-smelling liquid to my mouth. Wine laced with narcotics—the same he’d drugged me with at his manor.
“Give up, Aethra,” he said. “You’ve lost.”
No. This was all a bad dream. It had to be. Phaedrus had earned our trust. We’d struggled and struggled for weeks and finally won. How could it end like this?
“Poor girl,” Phaedrus said. “You’ve finally learned what I did so long ago,” he whispered in my ear. “It’s pointless. All of it. Look at all we accomplished—and look how little it mattered, in the end. You dared to hope, and now you’re left with nothing but the taste of ash.”
I went limp in his grip. Pulling my lips apart, he forced the wine down my throat.
When he released me, I fell to my knees in the sand. Burning traced down my throat, but not from the poison.
Struggling to stay awake, I shook my head, hoping to dispel the nightmare before me.
I couldn’t. Even as my sight dimmed, reality would not change.
We’d lost.