Chapter 1 #3
I sat back in my seat as I considered this terrifying new development.
Until now, the Fuath merely took what they needed and had been leaving most of our infrastructure untouched.
But burning down such a crucial port might not have been an accident.
What if they were starting to actively disrupt important trade routes?
And could it have anything to do with whatever, or whoever, was interfering with Riordan’s ability to use his magic on the Fuath?
“I suppose that means you will be paying my prices for lumber after all,” Isaura snickered at Stamos whose face mottled with his rage.
“And we will see how you like it when I raise the price of grain and fish!” he snarled right back at her.
“No one is raising prices,” I asserted in exasperation. “We are allies who must weather these attacks together.”
“And yet it is only my farmers and fisheries who are taking the hits!” Stamos complained.
“What are you jabbering about, Stamos? They target all of us in our turn,” Castor chastised him impatiently.
“Not to the same extent they single out my—”
“Enough!” I shouted, surprising them and myself with the firm authority in my tone.
I cleared my throat and tried to compose myself while they sat blinking at me.
“The escalation of their activities is what concerns me the most here. I might not be familiar, but I did not think their kind were very… intelligent creatures.”
“Dangerous in great numbers but certainly not known for their reasoning,” Dio agreed with an approving nod. He had already anticipated what I was about to say.
“I see the concern, Queen-Consort, but it was surely a coincidence the port burned and not a strategy. Fuath do not possess the necessary faculties to deliberately impede our economy,” Stamos said with his usual condescension.
He was the only one who ever insisted on referring to me by that horrible title of Queen-Consort.
“I still think it would be best if Dio returned to Erétria to directly oversee a more concentrated effort to protect our trade routes and ports. We cannot continue to sustain these kinds of losses,” I pointed out.
“I agree. There is little for me to do here. As riveting as these meetings are,” Dio added with a wink at me that made me smile at him knowingly.
“Is there a port close enough to handle the shipments until Anatolí can be repaired?” I asked, and Dio nodded.
“Oh, very well,” said Stamos with a dismissive wave as if he were indulging the whims of children.
I rose as they did, clenching the missive from Erétria while my mind worked over the news of the burned port. Although I understood why Stamos wanted to dismiss it as coincidence, I could not shake the sense that we were missing something important.
I glanced toward Ares who had been accompanying me to the meetings to act as my guardian in Orion’s stead.
That had caused quite a scene the first day since only skiá were supposed to join the council, and of course, the fact Ares was Ktínos had not helped matters.
But the council had been swayed by my insistence that Orion had his own list of duties from the king.
And Dio had pointed out that I was as entitled to a guardian as the other councillors.
I would miss having his support with the council after he returned to Erétria.
I found Ares was closer than expected, having moved right up behind me, and his teeth were bared defensively. Turning back toward the other councillors in anticipation of a threat, I saw Castor waiting with his hands tucked casually behind his back and brows raised at Ares.
“May I have a word?” he asked me calmly.
I glanced at the other councillors, most of whom still loitered near the doors and bickered.
Dio stood with them, but he caught my eye and tilted his head as if to ask me if I needed some backup.
I smiled subtly in reassurance and refocused on Castor who smirked as if he knew just how little I wanted to be alone with him.
“Of course,” I answered, and he gestured in invitation for me to walk with him. We passed by the other council members and strolled into the hall outside the chamber. Ares took up his usual post right behind me, walking next to Castor’s skiá whose name I still had not yet learned.
“Stamos is a foolish old man,” Castor declared once we had put some distance between us and the chamber.
“Um…” I struggled for a response, startled by such an unapologetic statement.
“It was very astute of you to note such a distressing escalation of behaviour from the Fuath. It is perhaps one of the few times that your… ignorance of our world will prove useful. You are free of the biases that some of us are clearly suffering from,” he muttered.
“You don’t think it was a coincidence they targeted the biggest port between Erétria and árgos,” I acknowledged, ignoring his subtle insult about me being ignorant.
“Not for a moment,” he reassured me, casting a glance over his shoulder as if to ensure we were not watched or followed. “And I do believe there is… something sinister happening in Erétria. My spies are reporting less and less every week, and what they do report is troubling.”
He hesitated again, and I glanced up at him in concern to see his brows were furrowed deeply.
“There has been an increase in missing persons and mortalities, and none of it is being properly recorded by the Administrative Offices. Or if it is, then the reports are not making it here to Kórinthos. I have been waiting for Stamos or Dio to bring up concerns about it, but it seems that they are unaware,” revealed Castor.
“Why would you not bring this to our attention as soon as it came to yours?” I demanded suspiciously.
Castor was quiet for a moment while he appeared to consider his response. After an excruciatingly long wait, he finally drew in a resigned breath.
“I have known for some time now that I cannot trust the people in that room. And I will admit that you were my first suspect,” he revealed without a hint of remorse. “Witches have been known to abduct fey and griffins for dark rituals so they may steal our power.”
I glowered at him in exasperation but quickly decided to let it go. There was no point in arguing with him.
“Then why are you telling me now?”
“I have been watching you,” he insisted, reminding me of his disappointment in me for not expecting him to spy on me from the start. “I am convinced of your genuine desire to help both the Imítheos and the Ktínos.”
I scoffed at him and shook my head. “My mate is also genuinely determined to help the Imítheos and the Ktínos. But you have not found him worthy of your secrets.”
Castor tilted his head at the scathing inflection in my voice, obviously picking up on my suspicion. “You think that I am trying to use your naivety to manipulate you,” he guessed with an approving nod. “Do not ever lose that skepticism. It will keep you alive here in Kórinthos.”
“Why are you not bringing this to Riordan?” I insisted, determined to ignore his infuriating gift for insulting and complimenting me at the same time.
“The king is a fair and astute leader, but I have always known he was not made with enough patience for politics. Just one of many reasons I was skeptical of his kingship,” Castor admitted smugly.
“But you are,” he added with such utter confidence that all I could do was stare at him.
“You both have your strengths that are opposite to one another. It will make the two of you a rather fearsome team once you have honed your individual roles in this administration. I understand now that he chose you to complement his weaknesses rather than his strengths.”
I did not bother to hide my shock, which only seemed to amuse him further.
“Sending Dio back to Erétria to manage the defensive efforts is a good start, but it will not be enough. Not if we are dealing with something more complicated than an incursion of the Fuath.”
Once more, my mind wandered back to the night when Riordan’s power was thwarted in the Silver Moor, and he was unable to attack the Fuath. He could sense a powerful air magic on the creatures, which meant that it was almost certainly another griffin, or several, acting against him.
“I do not know that the missing and murdered fey are related to these attacks,” Castor continued. “But it would seem that someone in our midst may be covering up those deaths, which means that you cannot trust anyone.”