Page 58 of The Shadow of Polaris

“What was he promised in return?”

“What?” Aryx asked, shifting in his chair.

“That greedy fool does nothing for free. What did you offer him?”

“Trade routes,” I snapped. “We assured him that Ursae re-invokes the trade agreements the late king set.”

“How can an escaped prisoner make any political change? Ursae guards have been hounding my citizens for weeks searching for you. There’s something else to his bargain you’re not telling me. I can see it behind your eyes,” Altair said.

I swallowed the rising bile in my throat. Aryx shook his head toward me, eyes dark in shadow.

“Well? What is it, Daughter of Polaris?”

“I agreed to overtake the mortal throne.”

A wide smirk curled over Altair’s full lips.

“I see…I knew Procyon had another motive. He doesn’t just lend out his armies to any half-goddess. He’s bargained for a puppet.”

“I will be no puppet,” I spat. The tingles began their familiar trail up my legs. Breathing deeply, I closed my eyes and focused on locking my emotions down.

“I believe you truly think you won’t be, but you’re dealing with gods, after all. Manipulation is our specialty.” He chuckled coldly and returned to his seat.

The room fell silent aside from the flow of a peaceful turquoise sea. Sighing, I slumped back to my seat, tracing the veins of my hands. Altair scanned my face, watching the inner battle between my demons splayed out in the wrinkles of my brow.

This broken God had just lost everything. His city, his people, his home. In an instant, there was nothing left. He was right. Vengeance was never the answer. Violence against those that have wronged you is a road not worth taking. Surface satisfaction with deeply rooted darkness. Vengeance consumes you. It blazes around you, eating away all the goodness and brightness of your world. I knew that.

He tangled my freedom in the palm of his hand. Without his ships, this was hopeless.

“We came here today, ready to fight.” I sucked in a breath as the blue of his eyes sizzled with power.

“I won’t beg or plead. You’re set in your ways and your beliefs on revenge. I understand that. All of my life I’ve fought through hatred, cruelty, abuse. This war isn’t about vengeance. This war is about freedom. I’ve been through hell to sit here before you. I’ve made sacrifices, pushed away those that I care for. I’ve nearly lost my life. I’ve taken lives.”

Aryx reached for my hand, stroking his thumb against my palm.

“Those people outside, the ones whose blood now seeps into the cracks of this city, they deserve better than me. Better than Aryx. Maybe they even deserve better than you. But we’re all they have. When the city heals, and eventually it will, what side of history do you want to be on? Lend us your ships. Stay on the winning side of this war.”

Altair raised a brow. Through pursed lips, he watched as I rose from my seat.

“Elpis, it’s hopeless. We’ll find another way.” Aryx shook his head, sliding the legs of his chair across the rough temple floor.

I sighed, starting for the golden archway.

“I will get you across the Raging Seas, but I have conditions.”

“Of course you do.” Turning, my heart stopped.

“When you plunge your dagger into Tethys’s heart, you think of my people. Think of every life that was taken today. Every single one. Then twist your blade until all essence of life fades from her entirely.” Altair’s voice deepened with black tarry, hatred. A kernel of sadness glinted in his brilliant eyes.

“I promise I will,” I said, reaching my hand out to meet his. His palm brushed delicately across mine as he bowed slightly.

“Good, now, one other thing. You’ll need my falcon. Only he can guide you safely through the rough seas.”

“Okay fine. Where is he?” Aryx asked.

“After Tethys’s soldiers receded to the sea, he escaped up the mountainside. You’ll have to catch him, which is no simple task. The bird’s as slippery as an eel,” Altair said. He nodded once more to me and, with the snap of his fingers, vanished, leaving a salty mist in his wake.

“What’s with immortals and their abrupt exits?” I cried, throwing my hands on my hips.

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