Page 15 of A Spell of Bones and Madness
“It takes two things to raise an Olympi from their tomb. The first is the artifact. It links the gods, symbolizes the transfer of power.”
“And the second?” Kohl asked, settling his mind despite the blur from the alcohol. He slid to the edge of his seat, nearly falling over from the spins that seemed to take root in his head.
“Blood, of course. A sacrifice of two people who are Fated. That is another thing we have to figure out—which gods that are Fated would willingly give their blood to raise another.”
“Why can’t we use my blood and Katrin’s? We are Fated just the same.” Kohl’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the worn wooden table. Blackness began to snake its way up his fingers. His blood boiled beneath his skin.
“Being bound by the will of the Fates and being Fated are two very different things.” His father paused for a moment, staring deep into the crackling embers of the hearth. “I too was bound by the Fates once, before your mother. A woman I loved very much. But that was a different time, one filled with promise for the isles. I was young and naive, as were you for thinking that girl would care more for you than herself—than her kind.”
It was impossible to imagine his father being in love. Duty and the idea of heirs had always been the reason Khalid married Zahra, nothing more. Even more impossible was that his father referred to himself as naive. Who was this woman from his past?
“You’re wrong, Father. Her prophecy, it told us what would happen. It tethered me to her. Our stories are not the same.”They weren’t. They couldn’t be.
“Perhaps they are not. That is something I cannot tell you. That is something you will need to figure out yourself, Kohl.” Yet another thing Khalid would keep from him. It was infuriating.
Kohl repeated the words to himself once more.They weren’t, they weren’t, they weren’t.
The new king trudged over dirty clothes strewn about his bedchambers. He was too on edge to clean, too embarrassed to ask for a servant to do it for him. His father’s riddles were driving Kohl to the edge of ruin, enough to make his hands violently shake when he would lift the crystal glass of amber liquor to his lips. He needed rest, to sleep without the voices that so frequently invaded his thoughts, the dreams that seemed so real he could not tell when he was awake or asleep. If he just closed his eyes and hummed maybe it would all stop. If he thought back to the days he used to journey through ancient mountain caves and swim in the caverns of the gods with Katrin. If he could just have some quiet, maybe he could make a decision on what he should do, who he should believe. Leaning back in his bed, Kohl’s eyelids fluttered close.Sleep…just sleep.
Leaves crunched under his boots as Kohl ran through the forest. Trees had weathered to their fall hue, blurs of amber and topaz blurring as he sprinted faster and faster after her. Braids swooshed across Katrin’s back, one on each side like she had styled her hair when they were children, though her hair seemed darker now, almost black. Warm laughter floated in the air toward his ears, circling around him, warming every piece of his heart. He was only steps from her and Kohl pushed harder, digging into the dirt below.
Katrin approached the clearing ahead, where the castle would come into view. She reached toward the ground, lifting a long blackweapon from the brush below her. Aiming toward the sky, a bright light flared around it. Something stung his nose, ashy and pungent. His eyes began to burn as he moved swiftly toward her. The air thickened and darkened around Kohl, and when he neared the clearing, all he could see was flame. The castle was crumbling.
“Katrin!” he yelled, and she turned, but the woman in front of him was not Katrin at all.
Part Two
?λυμπος
Olympus
Chapter Ten
Katrin
The sting of salt pierced Katrin’s nose with every inhale of the chilled air around her. Spray from the sea’s waves peppered her skin, crystalizing as it landed on her face and neck. Glancing out at the isle that lay before her, the worn wood of the ship’s rail was a comfort under her calloused palms. She wasn’t home yet, but this place would get her one step closer to rescuing Ander from Alentus. They needed allies, people they could trust, and besides Nexos, this was the closest isle that had that.
Katrin tugged her thick cloak tighter around her frame, grateful to have it as a shield against the harsher climate of Xanthia. The isle was often battered by northern winds sweeping off the frost-peaked mountains of the continent Voreia. Their autumnwas much shorter than that of her homeland of Alentus or the seedy isle she travelled to months before Lesathos, appealing to those who preferred snowy evenings and long springs rather than the heat.
Puffs of her breath floated in the air before her, mirroring the smoke that rose from the merchant chimneys in the nearing port. Katrin would welcome the embrace of a crackling fire and a steaming pot of tea once they safely reached their destination.
It had been years since she had stepped foot in Xanthia, for fear it was too close to the Kingdom of Hespali on the northern continent, an ally to Nexos. An ally that was now hers as well, at least until they rescued Ander.
Leighton had received correspondence from his fellow soldiers at home in Skiatha, a troop had traveled by land to the port of Hespali, where they commissioned two ships to sail to Xanthia. They hadn’t wanted King Edmund or King Athanas’s spies to catch wind they were nearby. The advantage of surprise would be the only way they could rescue Ander. Khalid was too smart to leave the castle unarmed and Edmund had proven to be more vicious than the Viper himself. But Katrin was determined to have Ander back. If only to stop the new nightmares that plagued her sleep. So that she knew, without a doubt, he would not be hurt again. So that she knew he was alive.
Ander had saved her, time and time again. Now it was her time to do the same. She would burn them all, set the courtyards ablaze, see her castle reduced to ash if it meant he was safe. If it meant the kings were dead. To see those sea-swept eyes filled with such love and longing, to meet those lips even one more time. Wars had beenstarted for much less in ancient times. This was one she’d be happy to wage.
Light radiated from her palms, sparkling against the deep mahogany of the ship, searing its wood. Home. She had to think of home—something Ander had taught her to dull the urges, calm her mind, control her power. It was the very reason she was here—on yet another isle, another mission—why she sought to destroy the very place she grew up. Home was no longer a place, no longer a castle set on receding cliffs. No—home was Ander, their bond, the way his eyes flickered when he stared at her, the warmth of his arms wrapped tightly around her.
So she would let every trickle of her father’s darkness and fire consume her. The power of night. Stars, flame, intoxicating burn for those who had wronged her and the ones she loved. Katrin would revel in it. Drink it like the first sip of wine, drown in every drop. Her enemies would pay with their lives, the only fitting punishment for the men who shattered every piece of her soul, taking all she held dear in this world. A smile lit across her face, picturing King Edmund and King Athanas and, gods, even Kohl on their knees. Begging for mercy they would never deserve. Her body began to glow once more, and the smell of smoke filled the air. Katrin had no mercy left.
“You need to get out of your head,” a lilting voice came from behind her. Chloe padded over to the rail where Katrin stood. “I know I am, how you would say, direct at times, but he cares about you so I care about you. I saw Ander’s power almost devour him before he went after you five years ago. He wouldn’t want the same thing to happen to you.”
She had forgotten the story he told, of how he knew someone that had almost been destroyed by their own power. Had not placed that he was speaking about himself. “I have it under control. You should worry about your own.”
Chloe chuckled, lighthearted despite the firm words she spoke. “Oh Katrin, my power is with the wolves alone—their unique abilities. And trust me when I say, no god has it under control. It is a fine line we all walk, a fine and deadly line.” She placed her hand on top of Katrin’s, squeezing lightly, combining the gentle gesture with a piercing gaze of those icy blue orbs. “Don’t let them break you. Those that hurt us are never worth the pain they cause, by their hand, or our own.”
Katrin’s gaze softened, breath flowing into her lungs like a new sense of life. “He once said something very similar to me—your brother. It seems you are as wise and eloquent with your words as he was—is.”
