Page 75 of The Shadow of Polaris

“You have not only brought shame on yourself, but also on your family. Because of your actions, the mortal realms have lost trust in the stability of their immortal rulers. These actions cannot go unpunished.”

“Please, I’ve done nothing!” I pleaded. The weight of iron chains dug into my wrists. After scanning the room, searching for any hint of a friendly face, all I found were furrowed brows and disgusted eyes.

“Silence!” the king boomed, his voice causing tremors throughout the cavernous marble walls. “You had your chance to speak. To explain yourself. But that’s passed and now it’s time to face judgment.”

I swallowed hard, entirely frozen by the sheer force of his all-commanding presence. His terrifyingly fierce eyes snipped my vocal cords, leaving me entirely speechless.

“Bring in the testimonials!” the king’s aide squeaked. A door behind the panel of judges swung open. Procyon, with his head held high, entered the courtroom. A short, fragile-looking woman trailed behind him, her head hanging low. I watched as the god stepped into the rays undulating from the ornate window panes. His long, braided beard swung across his chin as he took long, powerful strides. I stared at him, hoping he’d recognize me and come to my aid. I wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Procyon, please, help me! I-”

Someone kicked the soft side of my knees, throwing me to the ground. My head cracked against the floor, sending blurs of stars whizzing through my vision.

“You don’t speak!” a black-hooded figure growled behind me. I pushed myself to my knees, feeling the joints crack beneath my weight. Long, blonde strands of hair hung over my face and suddenly, I realized I wasn’t me. I wasn’t Elpis anymore. This wasn’t my past or my future.

Procyon spoke, but his words were unintelligible. I watched him, trying to translate the string of syllables and sounds coming from his lips. He was furious, his orange eyes kindled with each strand of sentences.

I’d done something so terrible, so horrific, it caused the court to whisper and gasp. Caused tears to stream down the eyes of the queen and the quiet, brown-haired woman to cower behind Procyon.

A faint glimmer of movement in the room’s corner caught my eye. Sitting limply in the shadows was a frail, full bearded man. His wrists were bloody and irritated from the shackles that held him to the wall. His eyes fluttered in and out of consciousness. Procyon scowled and pointed a strong, deadly finger toward him, then back at me. Somehow we were connected, but the only thing I recognized in him was the faded flecks of gold behind his tired, amber eyes.

The king and queen rose, pulling my eyes away from the broken man. The king’s voice sent ice down my spine, like the coldest of morning frosts. I swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably on shrieking knees. The deafening ring in my ears subsided enough to make out his words, “Tethys, I no longer recognize you as a daughter of this court. Given the accusations presented against you today, I banish you to the immortal realms. Take her away.”

Cold, rough hands gripped around my biceps, pulling me back into the shadows. The courtroom faded away, leaving nothing but a lingering desperation of my impending sentence.

Chapter 41

The following morning came too early, as if time itself had blinked forward. The nightmare, still thick in my throat, haunted me with the rising sun. Our oars skimmed through the water in a synchronous rhythm, greeting another day closer to our ultimate fates. My connection to the Spring Queen hadn’t felt this strong before. She’d come to me in dreams, but never like this. I’d lived out one of her memories.

Was her time in court merely a scene tangled in my subconscious, or was it the harsh reality of a time long gone?

I sighed, running my hands down my biceps, expecting to feel swollen, purple bruises from the guard’s tight grip as he pulled me back into those frigid shadows. I wanted to tell Aryx of my night time travels, but with every fleeting look, his eyes hardened. The love that once burned so brightly there had run out of fuel, leaving a cold vacancy that split my insides into pieces.

“My Queen, there’s something on the horizon,” the oarsman said, his eyes nervously darting from wave to wave.

I peered over the railing, scanning where water met sky. We weren’t close enough to see Elder’s Island. There, on the port side of our bow, was a small black blip hiding behind the rise and fall of the distant sea-foam waves. The sun made it next to impossible to distinguish.

“Rah, what is that ahead?” I called.

The falcon, in his heavenly perch on our tallest mast, squawked and took flight. He soared into the sky, feathers rustling as he climbed in altitude until his glorious wings were merely a speck in the great stretch of cerulean. I watched the bird until he disappeared entirely, then my eyes focused back in on the shadow staining the horizon. It was dark, but not black. Judging from the blurs of sea foam crashing around it, it was solid. The hair on my arms pricked. Whatever it was, I seriously doubted it was friendly.

Aryx paced across the aft deck of his ship, watching the blip with arms laced behind his back and a furrowed, sun-soaked brow. Given the embers of determination radiating from his eyes, I knew we would be ready for whatever we were about to face.

I swallowed hard and alerted my sailors of the looming threat. The men jumped into action, moving and working along the deck. The oarsman barked orders forward, a hint of trepidation crackling in his voice.

You will not like my report, Rah whispered through our tether, causing a heavy lump of dread to fall through the pit of my stomach.

“What is it, Rah?” I continued to watch the blip, scanning its motion as it blurred and sharpened with each crashing wave.

It is called Charybdis. Scylla’s brother. An ancient, powerful creature. It tracked us using the scent of its sister’s death. We need to push on before it catches up. Otherwise…

I swallowed hard. Otherwise we’d be dead.

An obstacle of ancient, primal descent- far older than the elements themselves. We’d barely escaped Scylla’s cliffs with a fleet double in size. How could we possibly weather another attack of the same magnitude?

“Oarsman, we need full speed. If that catches us,” I pointed out to the horizon, “we’re fucked.”

The blip was slightly larger now and much clearer. Dark grey clouds, thick and saturated, gathered on the horizon. The sun shrouded itself behind an all-powerful storm, taking refuge from the looming threat. The sky transitioned to a deep periwinkle. Waves gathered force until their crests crashed over our railing, sending misting my cheeks with salt spray. Seasick rowers below deck groaned and retched with each steep roll of our hull.

---