Page 33 of A Spell of Bones and Madness
Placing two fingers to Thalia’s forehead, Aidon began to chant a low spell in theEllinika Glóssa.A faint light radiated off both the seer’s skin and that of herpsychí, before it turned black and dissolved to smoke.
“She is fading,” Aidon said. “Her soul creeps farther from her body, guiding itself back to the Stygian River. We must get her to themystikistís.” Aidon snapped his fingers and two cloaked figures appeared, their skin as pale and pallid as the seer’s. The healers went to lift her collapsed body, but Dimitris would not let her go.
“And what exactly are these healers to do, Aidon? My father has told me of themystikistísthat live in these caverns below, what dark magic they use to heal thedaimonsthat roam these halls. You expect me to risk the soul of a living mortal? Let them fill her head with darkness?” Dimitris seethed through clenched teeth, vein pulsing in his temple.
“Stand down, wolf. My men will not harm her. I know Thalia well and do not wish for her to leave with a more horrible fate thanshe has been dealt, but I do wish for her to leave. There are rules in this realm for mortals, ones you accepted as soon as you stepped foot past my gates.” Aidon’s eyes narrowed and shimmered with an obsidian hue. “As for your father, Nikolaos should keep his nose out of what does not concern him. This realm abides by stricter laws than even he.”
“You are not fucking touching her,” Dimitris growled once more, flashing his canines.
“Have it your way, Prince, but I warn you—if they do not start now, she will be lost for good.” Although Aidon sounded resolved in his words, the tick of his jaw and darkening of his eyes told another story.
Ajax stood behind Dimitris, placing his hand on his shoulder. Thalia’s chest was barely rising with each strangled breath, and her eyes had still not opened since she was tossed against the stone. “We need to let her go. It’s the only choice we have, brother.”
“Fine, but I am staying with her. My brother would never forgive me if she died.” Dimitris slid his hands beneath the seer once more. Even though the prince wobbled as he stood, he managed to follow the first healer.
Ajax placed Mykonos in the second healer’s arms, and for a moment, he did not want to part with the white fluffy creature, feeling like he was sending her to her demise. The feline and her fading seer were not the only ones Ajax feared for, though. Because at least they were here, with them.
“Aidon, there is a pressing matter we need to discuss,” Ajax said, turning back toward the most fearsome Grechi in existence.
“Let me guess, it is about my daughter.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ember
Everything burned. The air around her, each breath she inhaled into her lungs, her eyes that were crusted over with some strange thick film. Terror. Pure terror. She couldn’t open her eyes and all that flashed in her mind was the horror of what had occurred. Ember had never experienced the dread of having an Olympi seek you out, have their clammy hand graze your skin, nicking a fine drop of blood from your cheek with his talon-like nails. Deepened eyes had loomed over her features like a creature of the night admiring its prey. Andworst of all, it had beenhim—the one being that looked exactly like her father, or was her father possessed. Illusions. Illusions. Illusions. Why would they not stop?
Water rushed in the distance and crackling fire spattered even closer. Smokey warmth wafted over her skin, tickling her nose. Still, Ember refused to wipe the liquid from her eyes and open them. What form of torture would meet her if she did? Where had the Olympi taken her after that beast ripped Ajax limb from limb? Acid burned in her stomach.
He could not be gone.
He could not be dead.
Her hand gripped the floor beneath her, not the floor—silk. Her hands went to the film that coated her eyes, its gooey tack cool to the touch. She used the back of her arm to wipe what she could, and with each ferocious swipe of her hand, it became easier to peel her lashes apart. The substance was like a translucent paste where she could see a semblance of light, but it was cloudy as if staring through sea glass worn from years at the bottom of the deep.
Finally, Ember was able to open her eyes enough that she could take in some of her surroundings, but it was not the darkness and despair she had thought. Turning her hand over, she inhaled deeply, absorbing the scent of what had coated her eyes mere moments before. A springy medicinal smell wafted in the air. Eucalyptus? What trickery was this?
Ember adjusted to the warmer lights. Lanterns lined the walls, a large golden chandelier hung from the ceiling above her—bed? The room looked identical to hers in Alentus, except the white and turquoise linens were replaced by black silk and crimson velvet.
Had he looked into her mind? Seen her home, her safe haven in the castle? Crept through what she did in those chambers—thethoughts she kept locked tightly away? Ember began to run her fingers over her skin, searching for markings, bruises, crusted blood, but there was none. And yet she remembered it so vividly—the torn apart flesh lying before her, the way she’d clung to his corpse while screaming until everything turned black. Until she ended up here. Was it a ruse? Another illusion Hades created to make her feel safe before ripping her away to a torturous setting once more?
Light steps came from outside the door across the room. Was it locked? Was she trapped inside? Did Hades plan to keep her here? She had nothing to tell him. Even Ember did not know why King Nikolaos sent them to Aidesian, except that her father knew more. Had she been a fool to trust the king? Was Nikolaos in league with the Olympi as well? The lock on the door clicked open, the hinges giving a low hiss as it swung into the room.
“You’re awake,” the low voice rasped. He was back, dressed now in a sleek, black silk jacket and leather pants—reminiscent of the clothes her father always wore when visiting Alentus. Had he seen that as well when he looked into her mind? Ember scurried back in the bed, patting about for her sword or bow, but they were not in reach. The gods-damned wretch had taken them from her.
“Stay back!” Ember screeched, her voice still hoarse from before. “I don’t know why you want me. I don’t know anything!”
Her body trembled despite using every ounce of energy she had left to calm it. This was where she died—in a familiar place, yet so far from home.
He stepped toward the bed, reaching out his tanned hand for hers. Ember yanked it away with such force she almost fell off the side of the bed. “Don’t touch me!”
“I understand why you are frightened, Ember, but I will not harm you.” The man’s brows creased above his nose, deep sable eyes looking back at her. “You’re safe now. Tartaros is far behind you.”
Despite the familiarity and warmth in his features, she could not trust him. Sliding off the bed, Ember picked up a silver candlestick from the small worn out table. “No! These are just your tricks again. You might have fooled me last time, but I’ll—I’ll bash your head right in with this.”
The man chuckled, the sound like a sweet caress from a midnight breeze in summer—a stark difference from the cackle he released in the dungeons. “Look at you.” A large smile crossed his face. “What would Kora say now?”
“What do you know of my mother?” Ember hissed. Again, his fascination with her mother was unnerving.
