Page 12 of Bane of the Wild Hunt

Ares bristled, and his wings drew into imposing towers on either side of his head before he stepped smoothly in front of Rhea to stop her.

“You want me to ignore being sneered at, princess?”

“I want you to show the respect you wish to be given,” Rhea corrected him.

“I do. Until I am disrespected, and then I will always respond in kind,” Ares insisted.

“How do you expect to earn respect—”

“Respect is neverearned, it is owed to everyone. It is esteem that is earned, and I do not cravethatfrom any Imítheos aside from your brother,” Ares interrupted her.

Rhea glared at him harder, and I could certainly see her resemblance to her brother in the defiant set of her face. Shehad his dark, wavy hair which they must have gotten from their father because their mother had russet hair. Rhea’s was waist length and half of it was pulled up into an artfully messy bun while the rest of the long, loose curls twirled over her bare arms. She was taller than me and slender, but still appeared very strong, with dark gold eyes that drilled into Ares. Her delicate and aristocratic features came from their mother, but they were prettier and less frigid. Her silk dress was a creamy blue colour with silver accents and a darker sash over her shoulder which was tucked into the belt around her waist. She had dark eyeliner smudged around her almond-shaped eyes, and it made her look even more fierce.

I had a feeling that surrender was a foreign concept to both Rhea and Ares, and I had no interest in watching them glower at one another all afternoon.

“Ares,” I called softly, hoping he would listen to me, and luckily he did, although with great reluctance.

Rhea did not say anything more as she continued to lead us to the entrance of the mountain tower. The stone hallway was wide enough to accommodate the wingspans of three griffins side by side. Hanging gardens cascaded down the walls between enormous, elaborately carved statues which were spaced every ten feet or so. Up ahead, I could hear the sound of many voices echoing as if they were in a large chamber.

“Welcome to Kórinthos, the capital of the city-states. Also known as The Mountain City,” Rhea added as we reached a stone balcony.

My eyes were first drawn up above to a dome of gold and cream through which sunlight gleamed brightly and ignited the chamber. I was stunned, wondering how they got light into the heart of the mountain like that, and then I looked down into the large chamber below. It appeared to be a bustling marketplace with dozens of vendors. Their customers wandered through withbaskets cradled on their hips, and many of them carried or walked with children who had the tiniest, downy wings.

“The city proper includes the farmland you would have flown over on your way here as well as the college and the Rookery where the Ktínos live. But this tower is the Metropolis, and it is the hub of our city!” Rhea claimed, beyond proud of her home. “Below is the South Bazaar which is one of three major marketplaces in the city that import from every city-state in the Vale.”

“It is beautiful,” I assured her, not wanting to dismiss her obvious enthusiasm, because the Metropolis truly was beyond beautiful! But my heart was stumbling over a horrible suspicion that was triggered by her description of the city proper. “Only Imítheos live here?” I verified as we turned to walk along the wide balcony that ran all the way around the enormous cavern.

“We are far fewer in number than the Ktínos as we do not breed quite so… quickly,” Rhea explained, and I was sure that she’d stopped herself from using a harsher word. Neither Ares or Helena missed this either, and I saw them exchange droll looks.

“So… is the Rookery that city across the lake from the war college?” I asked her tentatively, and I saw Ares and Helena trade another glance.

“That’s right,” Rhea confirmed, oblivious to my heart sinking at the knowledge that that decrepit city was home to all the Ktínos while the Imítheos had this tower.

“Have you ever been down there?” I asked.

“Of course not,” Rhea said, looking confused by my question before she cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the impassive Ktínos. “It is not thought to be safe for Imítheos to go down to the Rookery,” she explained.

“But Riordan goes?” I guessed.

“He does,” Rhea answered with a sigh in her voice. “Much to our mother’s discontent.”

We had almost reached the midpoint of the cavern when two griffin males emerged from an arched doorway. They looked elegant in their long, cream togas with richly coloured cloaks over one shoulder and matching sashes cinching their waists. Like most of the other noble men I’d seen outside, their dark hair was shoulder length and braided with gold adornments. They wore gold cuffs on their arms and had charcoal smudged around their eyes. The cylinder bag that one of them carried appeared to be filled with aged scrolls.

The men stopped talking at the sight of us and stared. Their gazes were not friendly.

“Do Ktínos really not come here?” I whispered to Ares once we had walked by them.

“With the exception of Orion,” he answered, his mouth drawn down in a frown. “It is the first time I have seen it for myself. It is… as he described.”

“And how did he describe it?” Rhea asked, raising her brows at him.

“You wouldn’t appreciate the humour,” Ares assured her with a shake of his head. Rhea narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, but she did not press him.

Someone called out a sharp reprimand from behind, and the only word I could recognize wasKtínos.

Rhea stepped around Ares, shoving his wing out of her way as she put herself in front of him to face the man that was walking quickly toward us.

“Nikos,” she greeted the newcomer who had slowed in surprise at the sight of her.

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