Page 2 of A Spell of Bones and Madness
Maybe I cannot call you Starling anymore, but I beg you, listen to me. Leave Alentus. You are not safe.
-Ander
Aikaterine,
This is the last time I will plead with you—get out. Save who you can, but above all else, save yourself. If I do not hear from you, I will come. You may not want me, but I will come anyway.
I love you.
No matter what you say, I will always love you.
-Ander
Aikaterine,
The Nostos has set sail for Alentus. We will be swift over the waters, I will make sure of it. If you get this before I see you—because I will see you—find Ajax. He will help you and your sister get to port. He will protect you. He is not one of them.
Still forever sorry. Still forever yours.
-Ander
Part One
?δης
Hades
Chapter One
Katrin
“It’s impossible,” Katrin whispered to herself, flipping through each letter again and again in Ander’s quarters aboardThe Nostos, trying to make sense of his words.
You are nothing, like I was nothing to you. The words she wrote mere weeks ago were an imprint in her mind, a mirror of what he had written her in one of these letters. Hers had never been sent—she made sure of it. No more than a way to write down all of her feelings and hatred that were bottled up inside, never truly meant to see the light of day. It was burned in a fire, she witnessed it with her own eyes, the way it blackened in the corner, furling in on itself and turning to ash before it disappeared in the night’s wind.
There was only one way he could have read those words, and Katrin’s lungs gave out at the thought—both because she felt ill knowing Ander had to face her vitriol alone, but also because it meant what she could not even admit to herself was true.
Only a Fated could do this.
Crumpled pieces of parchment scattered about the floor as Katrin knelt at the center of Ander’s quarters aboard. Teardrops fell from her face, splattering against the ink and causing it to blur in places. Each letter was marked with the same harsh curves of Ander’s script and she couldn’t help but picture him sitting there at the worn, wooden desk, pondering every word he might write to her to explain. Gods, did she long to have him here, to look into those sea-tide eyes once more and apologize for ripping away her trust so quickly. Apologize for trying to burn the ship—the man—that had rescued her time after time. Why had she been so fickle with her emotions? Why did she not give him a moment to explain before sending him to his death? Why was she always so quick to judge?
Was he still breathing? Was he lying dead somewhere in the forest of her isle? Merely a body cast out to sea? No—he couldn’t be. Not when a warming fog swept through her thoughts, protecting her, easing her, calming her. Not when his voice silenced the beckoning call of night and the horrors that came with it.
It wasn’t your fault,that simple voice trailed along the walls of her mind again. It was all she could do to not break down—imagining Ander’s voice in her head so clearly it was as if he stood behind her, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke. Picturing him as he pressed against her, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist until the starlit fire within her lulled. White linen shirtunbuttoned, leather trousers hugging his thighs, a half-curved smile on his lips, faint crinkles framing his eyes as he looked at her.
Being back aboard this ship without Ander, sleeping in his quarters again, with his clothes still folded in the wardrobe, the books he used to give her still stacked along the wall, was surreal. Olive oil, lemon, and the salt of the sea after a heavy rain lingered in his sheets as if he’d just stepped outside for a moment. Katrin would wrap herself in them, wishing for the simple touch of his fingers along her skin, the graze of his lips on her cheek as she drifted to sleep. But the warmth of his body never came at night, only the chilling fear of what fate Alentus now held for Ander.
Debilitating—the only way to describe what it was to miss him. The days back in Alentus were a blur of regret, shame, and alcohol-induced emptiness. Not once had she allowed herself to miss him, let the seriousness of it all sink in, realize how she really felt, consider that each of his lies had been to protect her.
She loved him.
Katrin Drakos loved the Prince of Nexos.
She was not sure when it happened—if that flicker of desire and kinship sparked the day she took shelter in his cabin in the woods of Alentus, or if perhaps it was when he challenged her to a sword fight aboard this very ship. Ander never underestimated her, never saw her as less than for being a woman, always pushed her to be her best, most powerful self. Although it took her time to realize, those were the things that true love was made of. Not duty and honor, not protection at the sacrifice of freewill. It was all-consuming, soul-crushing, fate-defying love and she’d never had the chance to tell him.
Darkness crept through the small window in the side of the ship and Katrin moved from the floor to wrap herself in the blankets on Ander’s bed, inhaling what scent of him lingered as her eyes fluttered shut, preparing herself for what was to come. It was always the same place she would go to. It was always him.
Drip. Drip. Drip.Water splattered on the floor, shadows swirling around her body. The dungeon was colder than usual, an icy aura swirling in a breeze that should not be there so far below ground. Across from her lay Ander, and no matter how many times she screamed his name, no matter how many times she tried to run toward him, she remained soundless, motionless.
