I straighten. He saidbrother.Three men, and with Zephyrus present… “You are the Anemoi,” I state. “The Four Winds.”
The West Wind bows at the waist. “At your service.”
The pale-skinned man rubs at his forehead in what I believe to be irritation.
The robed brother opens his mouth to speak, but Zephyrus hurriedly says, “This thing with Prince Balior has gotten out of hand. When we heard a rumor that the prince was returning to Marles, we decided it was time to end this before it reached the City of Gods. So we gathered at Boreas’ fortress. It’s really quite something. Hundreds of doors leading to alternate realms… Anyway, we pass through one of the doors to Marles. Came out of a woman’s closet, if you can believe it—”
“Zephyrus,” growls the tall, black-haired man. “We’re wasting time.”
The robed man steps forward, hand outstretched. “My name is Notus,” he says, and his gaze is steady, his demeanor calm. The South Wind, if I’m not mistaken. “These are my brothers, Boreas, the North Wind. And you’ve already met Zephyrus, it seems.” I nod. “Where is Eurus?”
At this, my expression falls. “Probably on his island by now. He’s been captured by Prince Balior.”
“Captured,” Notus murmurs, frowning. He tugs at the apricot-colored head scarf wrapped around his hair.
“I’m sorry, did you say hisisland?” Zephyrus crosses his arms in mock outrage. “Why hasn’t he invited us for a visit?”
“Focus,” growls Boreas.
“It’s my fault,” I whisper. “I b-betrayed him, and now Lady Clarisse will kill him and use his heart’s blood to create a potion of immortality.”
The Anemoi gaze at me in various shades of puzzlement. Though they look nothing alike, I do note a similarity in their mirrored expressions. “Slow down,” Boreas says. “Who is this Lady Clarisse?”
I shake my head, throat thickening.
“Min,” the West Wind murmurs. “It is Min, right?” He crosses the old, worn floorboards to where I stand. “We can’t help you unless you tell us what we need to know.”
He’s right. It is a blessing that Eurus’ brothers are here at all.
Briefly, I describe my relationship with my old employer, why she has aligned herself with Prince Balior, and how they intend to carve out the East Wind’s heart.
“Then none will be able to defeat Prince Balior,” Boreas murmurs, his aloofness thawing into something resembling apprehension. “At least, no one in the mortal realms.” He frowns. “We heard the beast was killed in the tournament. Is this true?”
I nod, glancing between the three men. “What about your powers?”
Once more, Zephyrus, Notus, and Boreas exchange a look of silent communication. It is Boreas who says, “Our powers are no more. We are mortal men.”
My stomach sinks. Right. Eurus mentioned this, if I recall. He found the idea of his brothers’ mortality downright appalling. “Can you handle weapons? Maybe a sword?” I ask hopefully.
Dark-eyed Notus lifts his chin. The walls of the estate shudder as the storm crawls ever nearer. “I am skilled with a sword. These two—” He gestures to his siblings. “Not so much.”
“I would have my bow ifsomeonehadn’t forgotten to bring it,” Zephyrus quips.
The North Wind looks prepared to shove his brother out the window. “How was I supposed to know you wanted the bow?”
“We were gathering to face a prince of darkness. Don’t you think I would want some sort of weapon?”
“Not my problem,” Boreas snaps.
“Why are you trying to help Eurus after so many years?” I ask them.
The Anemoi glance at one another, then away, each harboring a separate guilt.
“Our father was a hard man,” Zephyrus murmurs, “but we could never have imagined the abuse Eurus suffered at his hands. It was our fault, really, for failing to notice sooner. We had our own interests, our own lives. The day he returned withwings—” He breaks off, swallows. “Eurus refused to discuss what had happened, or why.”
It is not my place to explain thewhy. If the East Wind wants to enlighten his half-siblings on their shared blood, he will do so in his own time.
“It is no excuse,” the South Wind interjects fiercely. “We were not there for him then, but we can be there for him now.” He then shifts that clear-eyed gaze onto me. “Neither mortal nor god is spared the guilt of betrayal, or of neglect. We have all done immoral things. We have paid too high a cost. The question is, will you let it break you?”
