Slipping outside, I hurried down the hall, peeking into the parlor. Lord Phaedrus stood before the flames, staring into themas though watching a fond memory dance in their light. Clearing my throat, I knocked on the door frame.
Roused from his trance, Phaedrus turned, raising an eyebrow. “Going somewhere?”
“You said I had the run of the manor,” I said. “And you aren’t the kind of man to kill dogs. Is Whisper here?”
He nodded. “I put him in the stables, for now. Were you fond of him?”
“Yes. I’d like to see him, if that’s okay.”
Phaedrus’ eyes flicked over my face, but if he read my intent, he didn’t act on it. “Seraphim and I had a dog just like that, once.”
“When you were kids?”
“Yes. Lord Kasos’ father shot him while hunting. Seraphim was inconsolable for days.” He tilted his head. “I’ll never forget how it whined as it died. . . unable to understandwhy.”
Despite all this man had done to me, all he had said, my heart ached for him and the image he placed in my head.
“Go on.” Phaedrus waved me off. “Take whatever courage you need for the days to come.”
I stepped away, but my muscles locked up, forbidding me from leaving. Returning to the doorway, I hesitated before speaking. “I’m sorry. For all you’ve suffered. I wish. . .”
“Strange.” Phaedrus smiled faintly. “That you were not gifted the powers of a psyche.” He turned back to the fire and his memories.
Pulling myself from the doorway, I walked down the hall, nervously glancing at every passing servant. As I descended the grand stairwell, I counted four guards patrolling the bottom floor and two more watching the outside entrance. They observed me, but did not stop me.
Finding my way to the side entrance, I stepped out into the dark yard and followed the paved stone path leading to the lord’s personal stables. Grabbing the low wooden fence wrapping the horses’ field, I swung one leg over and dropped down on theother side, imagining how easily Seraphim and Seth would have vaulted it.
A familiar hound raced toward me before I’d taken two steps. Whisper sniffed me vigorously, tail flailing like a weapon of war. Grinning, I dropped to my knees and ran my hands through his wiry fur, wincing as he covered my face in wet licks.
Pushing the hound off me, I stood, searching the yard for guards. A tower rose in each corner. Faint lights glowed at their peak and in the turrets, signifying patrols keeping watch over the area. Down the main path, iron gates barred the entrance, watched over by more heavily armored guards. Thick, tall stone walls encircled the entire manor, with nary a crack to slip through save for that main gate.
With men watching from on high, I could scrabble up maybe two inches of wall before they descended upon me to drag me back. And if I got caught fleeing, Phaedrus would confine me to my quarters.
Grabbing a broken branch, I paced back and forth, pretending to play with Whisper. Throwing the stick across the field, I watched the hound sprint after it.
Think, Aethra. I ground my fingers into my scalp, trying to force my brain to work harder. Phaedrus thought my magic could push away the Empty, or aid its growth. Could it do nothing else?
Whisper dropped the stick at my feet, and it broke into pieces. Staring at the fragments, my mind snapped into clarity. “C’mere, boy,” I called, running toward the stable doors.
Closed and locked. Glancing over the barn, I searched for an open window or gap, but found none. Gathering myself, I shook my hands and focused on the left stable door.
The Empty destroyedeverything. Disintegrated it. The herald of despair, it washed away life, color, and hope. To destroy it, I had to give in to its nihilism. But to summon it, to wield the Empty indefianceof it. . .
I neededhope.
There was no escape from this manor. We were all trapped. But I was the sole beacon of hope that yet remained.
A wave of hushed, stagnant air washed over me, and magic bloomed in my breast, begging to be set free. Silent, instant, the stable door crumbled into dust.
Gasping, I stared at my handiwork. Whisper flinched away, head lowered, hackles raised. My lips tugged up into a grin, and a laugh burst from my chest. “Stay with me, Whisper,” I called, ducking under the chain dangling from the broken door.
Adjusting my eyes to the shadows inside, I found a blonde horse with a stark-white mane. “Athena,” I whispered, running a hand down the mare’s neck. “Come on, girl.” Grabbing a lead from the wall, I wrapped it around her neck and led her outside.
There was no time to properly saddle her. Eyeing the bulk of her bare back, I shimmied back into the stables, found a step ladder, and dragged it to sit beside her. Stepping up, I grabbed onto her mane and pulled myself onto her back. My legs floundered and kicked, but I managed the feat.
If Percy ever wrote a ballad about us, I hoped he’d leave out the heroine’s inelegance. Grabbing Athena’s mane, I dug my knees into her side and took a deep breath. Once I started down this path, all hell would break loose, and there would be no going back.
“Alright.” I patted her neck. “Let’s go.”
