Page 66 of The Shadow of Polaris

“Well… I wasn’t expecting this. You sure know how to keep me on my toes.” He chuckled. “But so be it.”

With a snap of his fingers, the bones of the palace shook. A vigorous tremor whipped through the earth, producing ripples in the beaches below. Thousands of men in gleaming bronze armor clawed from the sand until only a sea of helmets was visible across the horizon. The sounds of an army setting up their tents and sharpening their blades floated in the salty breeze. No longer was the beach a peaceful haven. It was a war camp.

“Now, a kiss to seal the deal,” Procyon said, leaning over me until his face was inches from mine.

“You said the bargain had already been set as soon as I sent the arrow- so no chance,” I snapped.

“Ugh, fair enough.” He flicked his long brown braid back over a shoulder.

“Well, have fun storming the castle.” With one more snap of his fingers, he vanished.

Chapter 35

In the weeks it took to prepare our sixty-thousand men for the impending war, Aryx grew more and more distant. Our meetings with Procyon’s generals, Xenophron and Balakros, were succinct and uncomfortable. He’d taken a bedchamber down the hall from me, avoiding my gaze as we passed each other in the narrow hall.

When we sat for dinner, the table stacked with platters of roasted fish and an endless array of fruits and nuts, he would make his plate and retire upstairs for the evening. With each accidental brush of our hands and silent stares, my guilt over Procyon’s bargain strengthened until it stole both my thoughts and my dreams.

On our last week of preparation, Altair waved his hand toward the horizon, pulling from the depths a fleet of two hundred warships. The harbors grew restless and overcrowded with sailors and soldiers, itching for the vast open horizons of the sea.

I needed some time away from the bustle of soldiers, with their boisterous laughter and crude jokes. It was a world I had little experience in, and with Aryx’s growing heartache, I was certainly not welcome in it. Taking a walk down the empty city streets, far from the harbor, I searched for city folk who’d survived the massacre. Every day, I’d look down back alleys and shadowy underpasses. Every day, I’d find nothing. Once the bodies were buried and the blood scrubbed away, it was as if the city itself had been empty forever.

On a harsh, sunny morning, I took my usual walk. Rah soared above the silent streets, his wings glinting in the sunlight. We passed the Temple of Altair, crossed the city’s empty market, and made our way up the sloped street. Finally, at the top of the hill, it was quiet. Not even a murmur of the encampment on the beach whispered through the warm breeze. I stopped to draw in a breath. Up here, where no one was listening, I let myself crack. I felt everything. All of it, once bottled up, now rushed out of me in overwhelming fury.

I wasn’t a good person. I never claimed to be, but my bargain with Procyon was lower than I’d ever been before. I’d given up someone else’s choice, someone else’s future, for my own. What did that make me? There were more similarities between Tethys and me than differences these days. What made me the hero, and she the villain?

Good and evil aren’t black and white. There’s a spectrum of grey morality that intertwines the moral and immoral. Heroes make selfish sacrifices. They take lives; they cause destruction just as the villain does. In war, bloody, gruesome, deadly war, there is no good side or bad. There are just two with opposing goals. To Tethys, I was the villain, and maybe she was right.

I’d lied, manipulated, and broken a man who cared so deeply for me he’d risk his life if necessary to keep me safe. Yet, he lied, manipulated, and broke me. He had taken advantage of the pain I’d endured, using it for his own vices. There was a time I hated him for it, despised even the sight of his perfect face.

Now the only face I despised was my own. We all made decisions, and we had to live with the everlasting impact of them. Aryx would haunt me forever. When this was all over, would I truly be at peace? Would I truly be able to live my life in carefree freedom? I wasn’t so sure anymore.

This war had changed me, and maybe not for the better.

I sobbed, choking on the realization now burning in the back of my throat. Maybe I deserved to be in that tower. I may not have committed the accused crimes, but I caused plenty of pain and destruction. I was a monster through and through. No one was safe in my path.

“Elpis?”

Wiping the sadness from my eyes, I turned to face Lytos seated atop a bleached white horse. His broad chest was bare aside from the silver claymore sheathed across his back. Glistening beads of sweat trailed down his temples.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, keeping my gaze low to hide the swell of my reddened cheeks and nose- evidence of my weakness.

“I came to fight. Margerie threw a fit when I told her, but eventually she understood. I can’t just sit by and wait for Aryx to return home.” He dropped from his saddle, soothing his horse with long, gentle strokes across its snout.

“Well, Aryx will be pleased to see you, but I can’t say he’ll be happy you’re here to join our army.”

“I figured as much.” He chuckled, but his eyes burned with a strong will. Nothing would convince this man to return to home. By his firm stance, I knew he’d made up his mind.

“You must be tired from the ride,” I said. “I’ll walk with you to the palace.”

Guiding his horse by the reins, we started back down the hill, leaving the small spatters of tear marks to evaporate on the stone in the blazing afternoon sun.

“So, how are things going? It seemed tense when you left the city,” Lytos asked, smoothing his short brown hair back.

“Things are… okay.” I trailed off, scuffing my boot against the gravel.

“So things are terrible,” Lytos snorted. “What did my brother do now?”

I opened my mouth to speak, unsure of what to say. He wasn’t the root cause. I was.

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