“Have you heard from Notus?”
And the tension spirals higher, locking the joints of Eurus’ shoulders, the lower span of his back. “No. And I don’t care to.”
Lies. Eurus mentioned meeting his brother in Ammara, prior to being captured. I glance between the two men in caution—well, one man, one god. If there is to be bloodshed, I intend to keep my distance.
But for whatever reason, the East Wind stalls our departure. “Why do you ask?”
“The beast has escaped the labyrinth,” Zephyrus says. “Word is that it’s looking for you.”
There is a silence. I’ve a desperate need to yank back the East Wind’s hood so that I might gaze upon his expression, whether impassive or puzzled, irritated or worried.
“I see.” His grip on my arm loosens, but I’m not foolish enough to flee twice. “Notus told you this?”
“He sent me a message,” Zephyrus confirms, arms crossed. “I assumed he sent a message to you as well, and to Boreas.”
Four brothers. Eurus, Zephyrus, Notus, and Boreas. Do they, too, hold power over the winds, or storms?
“I never received a message,” Eurus says.
“Really? It was sent to Marles—”
“I wasn’t there,” he snaps, then takes a breath. “I was returning from my visit to Notus when I was captured. I’ve been imprisoned for the last three months and only recently escaped. Not that you, or anyone, would have stepped in to help me. Isn’t that right?”
Green eyes flick to the East Wind’s massive wings, their thin gray skin and overlapping scales. “We would have helped you,” Zephyrus murmurs, “if we had known. Eurus—”
“I don’t need your pity,” he growls.
His brother appears deeply troubled. To his credit, he does not retreat. “The beast travels with a man named Prince Balior,” he continues, kicking the toe of his boot into the dirt. “Notus claims you know of him?”
I straighten in interest. Prince Balior: the gentleman who arrived at the estate late last week. Lady Clarisse also mentioned a companion he traveled with. Could that be the beast Zephyrus is referring to?
“I know who Prince Balior is,” says the East Wind. “But why should I care about the life of a mortal?”
“According to Notus, he now wields the power of the gods,” Zephyrus states, expression whittled into subtle aggravation. “He seeks to expand his realm. It is possible he will invade Carterhaugh, the Gray, maybe even Marles. He must be stopped.”
“When we were banished from the City of Gods,” says Eurus coolly, “we were granted the right to our own realms, our own lives, our own space. I have no obligation to Notus, to you, or to Boreas. These problems are not mine.”
“But they will become yours, eventually,” Zephyrus counters. A cloud passes over the sun, momentarily shading the deserted alley. “If what Notus says is true, few in the mortal realms will be able to stand against the prince. Boreas, Notus, and I no longer possess our powers.”
“Because you were weak,” Eurus snarls, and if I’m not mistaken, the dim obscuring his hood blackens further. “Because you allowed your foolish hearts to undermine your power. Do not place the responsibility onto me simply because you were too stupid to see otherwise. You chose this.”
At this, the corner of Zephyrus’ mouth slants into his cheek, a gesture of bitter emotion. “Yes, I fell in love with a mortal woman. I have no regrets. I doubt Boreas and Notus do either. All I wanted was to inform you of what was coming. Can you imagine what would happen if this prince managed to infiltrate the City of Gods? It would be catastrophic.”
“Maybe that is what the council deserves,” Eurus says, “after all the pain they caused in banishing us from our home.”
With that, he scoops me into his arms and springs upward, as though he wishes to escape his brother as much as I wish to escape him. I clutch the back of his neck, my face tucked close to the opening of his hood. Even in brightest day, nothing penetrates the interior.
We fly east, back toward Marles. With the sun having pulled from the earth, the air has warmed, even at this altitude. The East Wind falls into a preoccupied silence. I can all but hear the twisting amalgamation of his thoughts.
After a time, I tentatively ask, “The City of Gods was your h-home?”
To my surprise, he responds with nary a growl or scoff. “It is where my brothers and I were born. The realm where all deities reside.”
“What will happen if Prince Balior reaches your homeland?”
He cups the back of my head as we bank right. “I don’t believe he will. It is all but impossible for a mortal to enter the realm.”
I consider mentioning that Prince Balior visited Lady Clarisse, but I do not want to add kindling to the fire of Eurus’ anger. “How can you be sure? Your b-brother said he wielded the power of the gods. Wouldn’t that make it easier for h-him to access their realm?”
