Rolling his eyes, Percy found a rock to sit on as Seraphim retrieved her ball of fire from the pond and hovered it above her palm. Seth folded his arms and stepped closer to me. He’d found time to scrape the mud from his coat and had unlaced it to show off his collarbone and a hint of his tattoo.
I stared longer than I should have, remembering waking curled up on his chest. He met my gaze. The depths of his scarlet eyes consumed me, as though I’d been cast into an endless fire.
The air felt thick. Struggling to breathe, I shimmied away from him.
Eleos joined us last, the briefest flicker of a smile touching his face as he stood beside me, and gently touched my arm.
Silence fell over us like a heavy blanket. There wasn’t any need to say what we all knew.
Seraphim chose a different topic instead. “We’ll need to be careful in Therapne. Two of us are wanted there, and our faces are well known.”
“Right.” Percy cleared his throat with noticeable guilt. “We could wear our masks, but the refugees present a problem. Arrive with them, and we’re sure to fall under scrutiny.”
“We can’t abandon them.” Seraphim shook her head. “We’ll guide them in, and hope the clergy sees them to safety. Can you think of a cover story, Perse?”
“Easily. We’re traveling for a funeral.” He offered. “But that’s not the problem. My father knows me all too well, and Eleos. . .”
I stared into the fire, brow furrowed. Percy called Therapne home, and so did Eleos. I could muster a guess as to why Percy would be unwelcome—he’d deserted the army and his father was an officer, after all—but why Eleos?
I looked to him for answers, but he remained silent.
“Well,” Seth rolled his shoulders, “I say we forego disguises. We’ll drop the refugees off and skirt around the border.”
“Agreed,” Eleos said.
Reaching into her coat pocket, Seraphim produced the Maiden’s Bloodstone. “If this thing shielded us from the Empty, I couldn’t tell.”
“It didn’t.” Eleos spat harshly. “It’s a religious relic, propped up as an excuse for stagnation.”
“Rumors and legends come from something.” Seraphim turned it over in her palm, the scarlet stone catching the light of her fire. “It doesn’t look like any normal rock. It has to besomething.”
“But what?” I asked.
Eleos chuckled harshly. “Who knows? Lying comes easier to clergy than even nobles.”
The bitter hatred in his voice was unlike him. I blinked at him, surprised.
Percy removed his hat, shaking a bug out of it. “Who cares? We have Aethra.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Seth said. “We’d need a legion of mages like her to push it back any meaningful distance. The short path she made for us nearly knocked her out.”
“Still,” Percy marveled, “It’s incredible. I don’t think anyone believed the Empty could be erased.”
“Aethra,” Seraphim said sharply, “Don’t overexert yourself. The Acheron will take us where we need to go. Save your strength for when we find ourselves in a bind.”
“Trust me,” I said, “It wasn’t exactly pleasant. I’m not in a rush to repeat it.”
“Good.” Seraphim cupped her ball of fire, letting it dance around her fingers. “We’re all exhausted. Get some rest. If all goes well, we’ll be in and out of Therapne within a day.”
“Hm.” Percy tilted his head. “I think I’ll stay out here. Compose a song.”
“Another tragedy?” Seth guessed. “The Empty’s going to appear and swallow you.”
“Someone has to remember those who died. That’s what dirges are for.” Percy said somberly, pulling his lute off his back. “Want to keep me company?”
Seth glanced at me, tracing my figure longingly. Heat rushed to my cheeks when I realized what he was thinking, though I got the impression his impure thoughts had been subconscious.
Realizing what he was doing, Seth quickly turned away. “I suppose. Gods know you’ll get kidnapped, otherwise.”
