He tugs his hood forward, further veiling his face. I’ve the maddened notion to push it back fully, reveal what he so desperately shields, but I do not particularly care to lose a hand. “I see.” He clears his throat. “Did I say anything else? Anything about the council?”
“No.” My curiosity demands more from him. “Why would you mention the council?”
“Because their lives are the ones I plan to end.”
“What?” I gape at him. “You’re going to poison the Council of Gods? You’re going to kill th-them?” But of course, he has already provided his answer. There is only one question left to ask then. “Why? I thought you wanted a favor from the council.”
The East Wind slides to the edge of the mattress. “Yes,” he says. “Iamhere for that. When I win the tournament—and I plan to win—I will ask that they reinstate my title during the victor’s banquet. Seeing as I am disgraced in the eyes of the council, winning is the only way to guarantee my invitation. And it is at the banquet where the council will gather in one place, allowing me the opportunity to kill the ones who banished me in one fell swoop.”
“But if you’re no longer banished, why—”
“Because they did not protect me!” he roars, shoving to his feet.
I stand stock still, gaze wary as he clutches the bed frame with both hands.Run, I think. Yet I see how he trembles. He is an animal, cowering in the corner of its cage. “In what w-way?”
Eurus sags forward in defeat, wingtips dragging along the ground. I might brush their delicate arches if I were not afraid of spooking him.
“The previous council—the one my brothers and I fought to overthrow, well, they knew my…” He shakes his head. “They knew of my suffering. And they chose to donothing.” This last word, spat with venom. “I had hoped that by defeating the council and installing a new one in its place, things would be better. But they turned against me and my brothers, banishing us. And this new council has proven itself just as corrupt as its predecessor. It is time for the institution to end.”
A softness moves through me. Pain I understand. I understand, too, how one’s lungs can shrink, and there is not air enough in the world to remove the weight crushing your chest. “So the Council of Gods n-not only failed to help you as a child, but they b-banished you and your brothers as well?”
“Exactly. Which proves the council as an institution has too much power as it is. Clearly, they do not use it for the benefit of our people, if I have been doubly failed.”
Maybe, maybe not. But I know better than to argue. “So what’s your plan?” I whisper.
“Once the poison is complete, it will be added to their meals at the victor’s banquet. Three weeks later, they will fall ill, as you claimed. While they are indisposed, I will visit each of their residences and carve out their hearts. And it will be finished.” He releases a huff of air. Laughter, I believe, though it has twisted onto itself, this ugly mutation of joy. “Think of me what you will,” he says. “Let it be one more reason for you to despise me.”
“I think you are in m-much pain,” I say, “and looking for ways to heal it.”
His head snaps around. My breath hitches, but I do not retreat.
Eventually, Eurus sighs. His wings droop. The sight saddens me for reasons I cannot name.
“All I know,” he says, “is that I am tired. I am ready for this to end.”
I prod the silence carefully, testing its shape. Tough, like the belly of a goat, yet there is a bit of give. He is not completely closed off, this god.
Without a word, I scurry to my bedroom, digging through my supplies for a small vial, which I offer him upon my return. “Here,” I whisper.
The East Wind stares at the object with reproach. At least, I believe that is what he does. “What is it?”
“It is a draught to bring easy sleep.”
“I don’t need help sleeping,” he growls, then strides toward one of the windows and tosses the curtains aside. Moonlight whitens my vision, and I duck my head, eyes watering from the unexpected intensity.
“There is no shame in it,” I reassure him. “Sometimes we n-need these things—”
“I said I’m fine!” he snaps.
I glare, but he does not notice, for his back is to me, the scales of his wings reflecting the pooling light like hundreds of minute stars. “You’re not f-f-fine,” I mutter. “Not even close.”
Eurus scoffs. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I do kn-know, Eurus. But continue w-weaving that story for yourself, if it makes you feel better.” So many days of his poor treatment, and I have reached the threshold of what I am willing to accept. It is freeing to speak my truth.
Slowly, he turns to face me. My heart hammers; my face warms. I am not small. I am empowered.
“You may have stolen me from my h-home,” I whisper, and somehow the darkness is tempered, fashioned into a fabric rich with depth. “You may have threatened me, coerced me, taken advantage of m-my goodwill. But I have slept better in the last few weeks than, well… truthfully, I cannot even remember. And maybe I am y-your captive,” I say, voice strengthening as I stare into the empty space of his cowl. “Maybe I am nothing more than a weak mortal. But at least I have purpose n-n-now. And that is something I have rarely felt in my life—ever.”
