Iwoke in the embrace of silken sheets, the light of the setting sun spilling in through the window. Head groggy, I sat up, memories resurfacing from a deep fog.
Someone had dressed me while I slept. My hair was tied with a neat ribbon, and I wore the pale blue dress patterned with flowers. Sliding out of bed, my feet touched the cold floor, and everything came back to me at once.
My breath came in jagged spurts, and my hand trembled on the bedpost as I stood. Heart weighed down by worry, I ran to the door and grabbed the knob, expecting to find it locked.
But it wasn’t. The door swung open freely, revealing the quiet hall of the lord’s estate. Nervously gnawing on my lip, I stepped out, every muscle in my body tensed as I quietly padded down the hall, wondering if the night before had been but a dream.
We’d been drugged, hadn’t we? Should I not have woken in a prison?
“Awake already?” Phaedrus’ voice came from behind. Startled, I spun around to see him leaning in a doorway, light faintly shining on his back. “I thought you might be out until tomorrow.”
“What did you do?” I sputtered.
“Come.” He beckoned. “We have much to discuss.”
He ducked back into the room, and I peered inside. A fire crackled in the mantle, castingcozy light over anopulent parlor decorated with soft white couches and an elegant silver and gold rug. Phaedrus leaned on the back of a chair, beside a table set with a jug and two small glasses.
Had I caught him in a moment of weakness? Strands of his fiery hair escaped his bun, and his collar was unbuttoned and hung open. Shadows darkened his eyes.
“The others are fine.” He said, preempting my question. “Confined to the dungeons under tight watch, but unharmed.”
“So, you’re the masked nobleman,” I said, fingers digging into my arm. “Are you some kind of actor? Familiar with dying your hair and using different voices?”
“You could say that,” Phaedrus lifted the jug. “We had the same teacher, you and I.”
My breath caught. “That’s how you knew Ainwir. But you’re a nobleman! Why would he. . .”
“How little you know about your master.” Phaedrus poured amber liquid into the two glasses. “Ainwir was House Cynthus’s spymaster, long ago. I learned a great deal from him.” He lifted a glass. “But we aren’t here to talk about him. You want answers, and I have them. Answers Seraphim would never give you.”
Overwhelmed, I stepped back, bumping into the wall. “He was your spymaster? Why? When?” Questions tumbled from my mouth. “Do you know where-”
“Questions for later,” Phaedrus said sharply.
Swallowing, I bit my tongue. Trapped in a nobleman’s estate with no allies. . . what would Ainwir have told me to do?
Closing my eyes, I recalled his face. The harsh gaze above a hawk-like nose.
Resistance and ugly words earned ire and death. Amicable cooperation lowered their guard.
“Alright,” I said, approaching Phaedrus. “You said you’d tell me everything. Let’s start with this: you helped Seraphim flee to Duath Nun after her experiments came to light. Why, if you intended to betray her?”
“I didn’t, back then.” Phaedrus swirled his drink, staring into the liquid. “My sister and I were united in our beliefs, even if I did not like her methods. I wanted her alive and safe. We had every intention of reuniting, down the line.”
“So, what changed?”
Grabbing the second glass, Phaedrus offered it to me, and I accepted. Sniffing the liquor for any unusual scents, I took a sip. A warming burn ran down my throat. Phaedrus watched me carefully.
“Everythingchanged.” He said quietly. “I was neither chthonic nor psyche when my sister left.” He turned a hand over, where a scar glinted on his palm. “One extraordinary event is rare enough, but two? I realized then, the gods had long abandoned us, and only their cursed magic remained.”
“You suffered tragedy.” I guessed. “That doesn’t explain why you seek to undermine your sister’s efforts.”
“Not undermine,” Phaedrus muttered. “Undo.Prevent.” His eyes traced the flowers stitched into my skirt. “Here stands the one creature who can brave the Empty. Who cancontrolit. Seraphim would risk your life to seek a cure when you should be used to ensure its finality.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The Empty should not be stopped, Aethra,” Phaedrus said harshly. “It should be welcomed with open arms. Cruel is its slow approach, its torturous spread. Let it swallow the world in one fell sweep.”
“But, I can’t-”
