Chapter Thirty-One
I wake muzzy and disoriented, blinking in the white light.
It’s day. That means something. Something about the deeps of the sea and too many legs, but I can’t remember what it is.
I pull myself up onto my elbows, dragging my hair—curling with sweat damp—out of my face.
I look down the bed at my legs. There are two. They both look perfectly well.
It’s only as I stare at them that I remember how they looked last night and must sprint out the door of the cottage to empty my stomach into the weeds.
The sharp morning breeze kicks up against my suddenly flushed face, and I take long, aching breaths, my eyes growing wider and wider as I look at my naked legs.
They are whole.
How is that possible?
But that’s the secret to how they torment Oke, is it not?
Eaten all day, healed in the night. It’s the one thing that, apparently, I can get right as a god.
I heal. Shockingly fast. And it makes all the god corpses I’ve seen that much more grisly, knowing that if that final blow had not been dealt, that they could have dragged themselves out of bed the next morning in the same way—whole and well as if nothing had ever happened.
It takes me some time to gather myself together enough to wash and dress.
My hands still shake as I work. We had thought—or perhaps hoped—that Treseano’s creatures were the key to Oke’s healing and freedom.
Which means, if we are right, then he could be freed by the death of one, healed by the death of the other, and if fortune has graced me with her spice-laden smile, then that might have even completed one of Oke’s tasks and brought him that much closer to the desire of his heart—the ancient Lighthouse.
I should be able to go straight to his island in the sea and bring him home. It is strange that he is not here already, in fact.
I frown.
Unless, perhaps, he is healed of the godwound, and freed of the anchor, but the effects linger? Perhaps he is unconscious, healing, but dead to the world as I was only a short time ago?
I should go and check.
I gather up what I’ll need, preparing fish and flasks of water, blankets and extra clothing.
I bring a lantern and fuel, and the trident.
I’m anxious, my thoughts skittering one way and then the next, and at the same time I’m excited.
I want to see him. And not just as I’ve always seen him, but whole and healthy—free finally of torture and imprisonment—and smiling at me.
The thought of it makes my breath catch a little, and I have to shake my head at myself.
Just do the work, Coralys. Be glad if he welcomes you at all. He’ll still be half-dead and bound to you. You can’t fix that no matter what you do.
But I am still looking forward to seeing the expression in his eyes when I announce to him that we’re one step closer to his goal.
I check and double-check my tunic. It’s terribly water-stained and wrinkled, but it’s still the most presentable thing I have to wear. I am a god now. I ought to at least have a wardrobe. I’ll fix that as soon as I can.
But not today.
I’m still shivering with nerves and the aftershock of last night as I make my way down to the dock for the last time.
I want to leave from there in case Okeanos still comes back on his own.
I watch for him anxiously, and I’m about to make a bowl shape with my hand when the air on the dock seems to ripple and then Markanos is there, chest heaving, arms shaking. There is blood on his sword.
He takes in the boat and supplies and me in one single glance.
“You’re going to Okeanos,” he says shortly.
“Of course. We’ve freed him.”
We’re both assuming so. Assuming that was the purpose of Treseano’s second monster. I hope we were right.
He nods curtly, not looking at me. I give him a moment, but this is no time for standing around.
“If you wish to wait here for our return, you’re welcome to stay,” I say, trying to hint that I will go one way or the other.
“Wait,” he says, taking a half stride forward and finally looking up at me. “I’ve been thinking all night. He’s doing five impossible tasks. Like Plector. Like Kilinippa.”
“Yes,” I agree, but I’m struggling to keep the impatience out of my voice. Why is he here? Why will he not let me get on with it?
“You could raise the dead with five tasks.”
“So everyone keeps saying,” I agree dryly, and then wait again. Eventually I sigh and I am the one who speaks. “If you are here to remind me that I owe our success to you, then consider it noted. We owe you a debt and I will make certain it is repaid in full.”
“No, of course not,” Markanos says, and he sounds sincere. “But you’re going to him to tell him you’ve completed one of his tasks?”
“If we’re right, and it freed him, he should be back here by now,” I say. The back of my neck itches. I feel like there’s something I just am not seeing. “And his wound should be healed on top of that. I’m… I worry for his safety.”
“You worry for the safety of the man you murdered?” He smirks at me.
“If something has happened to him, well then, his impossible tasks won’t be credited to our collective score and I’ll be back down to two,” I say defensively, but his gaze is hard as it bores into me.
I hope he cannot see the truth. I hope he cannot see that I am starting to feel attached to the other God of the Sea.
“If you care about him at all, Wife of Okeanos, then you’ll take a different path.” Markanos is stern, as if he thinks I need a lecture and he’s the one to give it. “You may have freed him and healed him, but he’s still dead.”
My cheeks are on fire. I will never live down my poor judgment in killing the man. “Your point?”
“I heard you give your word to him that you’d help him with his Lighthouse,” he says.
“I want you to break that promise. As long as he’s no longer God of the Sea, just a dead man hanging on by a thread of life to you, he’s vulnerable and so are you.
We need strong allies in this god war, and the pair of you are a liability.
So. Raise the dead. Bring Okeanos back to life.
Let him rule and reign over the sea beside you and let him worry about his Lighthouse when this war is over. He’d never ask it of you. But I will.”
My head is whirling with the idea. He’s right. His friend is not just free and healed, but he could live again if I agree to this.
“I’m sure there’s something you want. You did not marry him for love or the desire to possess.
” His face screws up like he’s bitten a lemon, and when he speaks, it is with effort.
“If you free my friend from his death, I will do everything in my power to ensure you get whatever it is you really want. I can see by the light in your eyes there is something. I assure you that never have I met a task too great for me or an enemy too powerful. Simply name your price and I will meet it.”
“I’ll not be bought. My decision is my own.” I shake my head.
“Fair enough,” he says lightly. “Then do it without provocation. Do it because you are brave and honorable, the wife of the great Okeanos.”
And it’s not that I don’t feel the pull. Of course I do, but I also know what Okeanos would say—that he can’t replicate the tasks and if I use them on bringing him back, then I will destroy his life’s work. Is it not his right to choose between himself and the work he cared about?
“How could I even do that? I don’t know how to assign them. I was counting on Oke to direct me.” It’s an easy out, an excuse, and I know it.
“Do what they do in the legends. Both Kilinippa and Plector prayed to the heavens, ‘Accept these five gifts, a work for each finger of my hand, and give to me this boon I ask of thee.’ I know because Okeanos made me read that fool book.”
I bite at my lip, suddenly fearful of the upcoming meeting.
“You don’t really believe there is some great deity above even the gods,” I say.
“Don’t I?” Markanos’s smile is twisting and ironic. “Did you not see the glory descend and our power renewed? If that wasn’t a god greater than gods, then what was it?”
“Magic,” I suggest. “The nature of that place.”
“Come and find me when you’re done,” Markanos says, ignoring my argument entirely, and it feels anticlimactic somehow.
“You’re not going to come with me and find out yourself?” I allow a sting in my tone. After all, he breezed in here, wounded me, and now he will leave as if it is no matter to him at all?
His face goes red and blotchy. “Alexandros made an inroad into my territory while I was distracted by Ordanus. Everything is chaos now. The god war has begun. The nations that have been building armies are ready to fight. If you listen to the prayers of your people, I am willing to bet that they, too, may be sailing forth to battle.”
I feel my breath hitch at his words and a tingle run down my spine. Like him, I’ve been distracted, and last night when I was in the water, I was in too much pain to hear any kind of prayers. My gaze slips to where frothy green licks the docks and I can’t seem to let the breath out.
“Besides, this is on you, Drowned Queen. Only you can employ the tasks to wrench your husband back into godhood.”
“But the god-killer,” I protest. “Whoever it is may be laying traps for us even now.”
“Seven hells, woman. One thing at a time. If we don’t take hold of the reins of the mortal lands, it won’t matter which of us he targets next. You aren’t a god without your followers!”
And he doesn’t even bother to explain more, he just flicks his sword and he’s gone in a blink, and I’m left staring at the place where he stood.
If he’s right that I must make a decision between Oke’s life and his quest, then I know what my husband would want.
He would never hold his life as more valuable than his Lighthouse.
And if I choose to go against him, then I risk breaking his heart, his spirit, and his body all at once.
I clench my fist, thinking hard, but no matter how hard I think, I believe that I know what I must do.