Page 12 of A Spell of Bones and Madness
“Afraid of me now, blondie?” Dimitris chuckled.
“Stop calling her that,” Ajax growled from behind both of them. “She ranks higher than us both and deserves respect.” He stepped closer to the prince, who had a smug look about him.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you two”—he flipped his finger between Ajax and Ember—“were together.”
“We’re not.” Ember huffed a breath, brushing off the sand still left on her leathers. She needed to change the subject, she couldn’t let one more look of broken longing slip when someone mentioned her and the commander. “We need to focus, it’s a long journey through the caves. There are creatures there even my father cannot protect us from.”
A broody commander, a smug prince, and monsters of the underworld—what could possibly go wrong?
Chapter Eight
Kohl
Smoke snaked through the air, and with each inhale and exhale it got thicker, shutting out the thrumming noise in Kohl’s head—the same noise that had buzzed from that compass device as they journeyed to Skiatha. It was constant now, sometimes a damning voice, other times, it was just a piercing hum, deep pitched and all consuming.
With each passing day, the headaches had worsened, becoming even more unbearable. Bright light from the sun, even that of a fire, caused stars to cloud his vision. Nausea settled constantly in his stomach, never eased by food or drink. The only thing that gave him some reprieve wasolerae.A drug he once shamed his father for, was now his only way to keep hold on reality. But what was realityanymore? A world where Katrin was not with him? One where he ruled an isle that was supposed to be theirs? Where Khalid reigned while the Alentian crown sat upon Kohl’s head? His father knew where Katrin was, he had to. Khalid always knew. Apparently, even the whereabouts of ships that went missing without anyone there to take record of how.
Earlier in the day, a guard had delivered a missive thatThe Typhonwas attacked before reaching Lesathos. There was only one ship that stood a chance against the mighty craftsmanship of Harrenfort and that wasThe Nostos. Were they there now? Imbibing in their victory? If his father would just let him go after her—would tell him where they sailed for—he could help. Perhaps the hunt for his Aikaterine would ease the ever-present pain that pounded in his head.
Kohl chucked the glass he was drinking from across the room, the crystal shattering against the wall, amber liquid dripping down onto the floor. Another thing he had dealt with the past few days—an unnerving rage he could not control. His father had driven him to his last bit of patience. “Where is my wife?” Kohl’s voice rattled from his throat.
Khalid sat at the table, picking a piece of meat out of his tooth with his lengthy pinky nail. “It appears she has run off again. Left quite a mess in her wake too. Can't you see, my boy? Their kind will always choose each other first.”
“Run off? Maybe she would not have run off if your men had not tried to kill her and her sister. She would have stayed by my side if she thought she wasn’t being brought out for slaughter, paraded about our wedding like a prized possession of yours rather thanmyconsort.” Veins of black began to thread through his eyes, and the humming in Kohl’s mind got lounder.
Khalid sipped from his cup, a trickle of blood red wine dribbling down his beard. “My men would not have harmed Katrin if she had chosen to stay. Ember—well she had to be dealt with. I couldn’t have that girl running around as Prytan of the Spartanis any longer. It was a disgrace to the isles and the warriors who came before her. A girl leading the strongest army in the isles—the continents would have looked down on us as if we were children.”
Kohl’s father hated to see women, especially ones he deemed so young and vapid, with such a title. But murder? Ember had never done anything to warrant that.
You tried to kill me.
The words shot through his mind, intertwining with the low hum. He had not tried to kill her at the Acknowledgement. He tried to save her from that fate with the blow to the head. He was better than his father. Wasn’t he?
Laughter filled the room. Dark unsettling laughter. “Are you trying to convince yourself you wouldn’t have done the same?” Khalid stared at his son, his upper lip twitching in a grin.
“Shut up, you spiteful man!” Kohl’s fingers went to his temples. The pain was too much, even with the black smokey drug encasing his mind. He had to shut it off. He couldn’t think straight anymore. Again reality was slipping, his memories blurring. Had it been jealousy and power that caused him to lift his sword and strike down the girl? Kohl’s hand began to burn, and he could have sworn the intertwined snakes on his palm glowed blood red.
Standing up, his father walked around the table to where Kohl had sunk into a chair, putting his hand on the table to lean intoward his son. Endless ebony irises shot daggers into Kohl’s soul. This close, he could see small red veins spidering out from the blackness. “Don’t you ever speak to me like that again. Remember your place, boy.”
Breaking his father’s gaze, Kohl sank even further into the chair. “I am sorry, Father. I just—what is happening to me?” Kohl’s fingers threaded through his disheveled brown hair. The pain was uncontrollable now. Venom began to creep up his veins, circling his arms like the snakes burned into his palm.
“That is power, Kohl—unbridled power. Stronger than even the wretched Grechi, if you learn how to wield it.” The sorcerers of Votios. He had read about them, but they were supposed to be wiped out after the war. Yet there it was. Magic seeped into his veins, begging to be unleashed on the world. Begging to destroy.
Khalid pulled a small golden knife, clutching Kohl’s unbranded hand, slicing into his flesh. Blood lifted up out of Kohl’s palm, circling the knife as it began to glow with a bright golden hue. The black in his veins started to recede down his arms, until the blood from his palms turned that obsidian color. Then the humming stopped. His mind went blank. No thrumming, no voices, nothing. Kohl looked down at his palm and his flesh had stitched itself back together, no trace of the black or the crimson liquid to be found.
“You need to let it out. The noise will consume you.Hisvoice will consume you, if you do not sacrifice some of the power.” Khalid handed over the thin gold knife, nodding as Kohl tucked it into a sheath on his vest.
“His voice?” Kohl croaked.
“Hades, of course. The only true god,” his father replied.
The only true god.An Olympi. The mark on his palm, the magic in his veins, the isle he now controlled. It was all tied together. Hades. God of the Underworld. Aidoneus’s counterpart in the era before the Peloponnian War. How long had his father been a servant of this being? How long had Khalid been plotting all this?
“Is this why you sent me here? Why you sent me to rescue Katrin years ago?” Kohl’s brows furrowed as he took in the glint in his father’s eyes.
“It was not my original intention,” Khalid sat down next to Kohl, clutching both his son’s hands between his own, “but it has proved to be quite useful in our pursuit of freedom.”
“Freedom?” Tremors raced their way up Kohl’s arms and down his back, his breath catching. They were already free. Free from the grasps of the Olympi. It is what his people fought for—the men and women of all of Odessia had fought for—a century ago.
