Chapter 18 #2
By the time they finished, the rain had thinned to mist, and pale rays of sunlight pierced the parting clouds.
Their clothes were soaked, their hands blistered and caked with mud, but the grave—their final act of love—was done.
They’d made a shrine where San could rest in peace, where she was loved and not forgotten.
A Non-Human tradition, Phoebe had explained.
Murmuring something about tending the horses, Phoebe slipped away, leaving Alena alone with Kaixo in the hush that followed. The boy stood unmoving, gaze fixed on the newly made cairn as if willing himself never to leave it.
Alena placed a single asphodel at the foot of the shrine.
The flower trembled in the breeze, fragile against the mound of stones.
Above them, sunlight pierced the silver leaves of the olive grove, casting shifting mosaics of gold and shadow over the cairn.
In time, the mound would grow soft with grasses, herbs, and wildflowers.
San would have liked that—life blooming where hers had been taken.
Kaixo’s damp hair clung to his head, a few strands sticking to the mud-flecked bandage. Alena moved beside him, uncertain what to say, unsure if words could ever be enough. Instead, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and he leaned into her, his grief seeping into her own heart.
“The Freefolk believe the dead return to the stars, where they watch over us,” she whispered.
Kaixo raised his head, tears swimming in his bright green eyes.
Alena gave him a soft smile. “Your mother will always be with you, Kaixo. She will watch over you now and will never be forgotten.”
His shoulders began to shake. Alena pulled him close, letting him bury his face in her tunic. She held him as he wept, while her own tears burned at the back of her eyes and slipped quietly down her cheeks.
Later that night, after they had washed up and Kaixo had allowed Alena to tend to his injuries, the three of them gathered again in the stone shelter.
At the entrance, the two wolves lay curled in the shadows, eyes half-closed, while Apollo slipped into the night to hunt.
A small fire crackled at the centre, casting flickering light across the walls.
Kaixo lay bundled in a blanket of furs, fast asleep, while Alena quietly recounted everything to Phoebe—her fight against the praefect, meeting the South Wind, and the strange, terrible Gift she’d been given. The listened in silence as she sharpened her sword, asking only a few pointed questions.
When Phoebe made a final pass along the blade, Alena’s gaze drifted back to Kaixo.
He looked so small, so fragile in sleep.
After nibbling at bread and dried meat, he’d drunk the tea she made to ease his pain without complaint.
Aside from the cut on his brow, his wounds would heal quickly, though riding would still hurt for a day or two.
What troubled her more was the silence that lingered in him.
Not the quiet of sleep, but the kind that settled deep, born of grief too heavy for words.
“He’ll be fine,” Phoebe said, sliding her sword back into its sheath. “He’s not the first child to lose a parent. Give him time. He’ll find his way through it. Besides, he has you.”
“That’s what worries me,” Alena murmured. “He needs stability. A home. He’s only eight years old. He can’t keep wandering through foreign lands with me, chasing after the Emperor. I’m not who he needs.”
“You’re exactly who he needs right now,” Phoebe said firmly. “He might be quiet, angry, even full of hate—but he needs you to hold on to.”
Alena knelt at Kaixo’s side and tucked the fur blanket closer around his shoulders. His face had softened in sleep, though a crease still marred his brow. “I promised San I would take care of him and I always will. But I can’t put him in danger anymore.”
Movement flickered at the edge of her vision. A creature slipped through the shelter wall—a small owl with brown-speckled feathers, its body shimmering with a veil of deep blue magic. It landed without a sound, then hopped across the stone floor towards Phoebe, a scroll clutched in its talons.
Phoebe accepted it without surprise, stroking the owl’s head as if it were a common pet. The bird gave a soft hoot, then turned and vanished in a ripple of blue light.
Alena blinked. “Are you going to explain, or should I start guessing?”
Phoebe gave a sly smile and held up the scroll. “Message from my contact in Tiryns.”
Alena huffed. So that was how the had received news from Tiryns while they were stuck in the mountains. “Right. And this contact of yours… let me guess—another ?”
“It’s Queen Charis, actually,” Phoebe replied, scanning the parchment.
Alena stared, caught off guard. “The queen? You know her?”
Phoebe shrugged. “Not personally. But Tiryns welcomes all Amazons. Some settled there after the war and never left.”
The thought that the queen had offered sanctuary to the Amazons after the war made Alena like her immediately.
Charis, Queen of Tiryns.
And Leukos’ wife.
The image of Leukos standing beside a beautiful queen, their hands entwined, haunted her. Each time the thought of their union returned, it struck like a dagger, twisting deeper with every passing day.
Had their union already taken place? Was Leukos now King of Tiryns?
Did he still think about her?
Alena swallowed, hating the knot in her throat. Against her better judgement, she asked quietly, “Did the queen mention anything about Leukos?”
Unable to meet Phoebe’s smug gaze, she busied herself with the waterskin.
“No,” Phoebe answered, drawing out a pause and clearly savouring the suspense. “But she did share something… interesting.”
Alena sighed, corking the waterskin with a snap. “Spit it out already.”
Phoebe leaned closer, her expression turning grave. The flickering fire cast dramatic shadows across her bandaged face. “Your sister tried to infiltrate the city,” she revealed. “She made it past the Maiden’s barrier, almost dying in the process, and was taken prisoner.”
Alena stiffened. “Katell’s in Tiryns?”
Stars be cursed. What was Katell doing in Achaea, so far from the northern front where she was supposed to be?
“Yes.” Phoebe’s silver eye gleamed in the firelight, unblinking. “She must be on a mission for the Black Helmets.” When Alena didn’t respond, Phoebe hesitated, then added, “Alena… she won’t be the same sister you remember—”
“I know,” Alena snapped, her voice cracking under the weight of everything she’d held in. A fierce anger surged through her.
How many more dark truths about Katell would she uncover?
“The sister I grew up with, the one I loved, would never have betrayed the Freefolk like that.”
Her words hardened as memories of Leywani and Scylas’ gaunt faces burned in her mind. “I don’t know who she’s become, but I guess we’ll find out once we reach Tiryns.” Her fists tightened, nails biting into her palms until it hurt.
But she welcomed the sting.
“What I do know is that my sister and I need to talk. And this time, she’ll listen to me, whether she wants to or not.”