“And here you are in Okeanos’s house. In his bed.” He flicks a finger and his eyes narrow. “Wearing his pearls. His wife in all but devotion, it would seem.”
“If you’re not here to kill me,” I say with a raised eyebrow, “then I wonder at your presence here at all.”
He pauses, tapping a finger on the table, and then seems to make up his mind and speaks all in a rush. “Take it away. Set him free.”
Now I am truly worried, for there is a kind of pleading in his voice. I don’t understand the request.
“Okeanos is as free as he’ll ever be,” I say quietly.
The dead, of course, are the freest of all.
He stands so quickly that I scramble backward across the bed, the blankets tangling in my legs, the bed swinging wildly on its hanging chains. I have no defense and I’m vulnerable here sprawled before him like an offering.
“Have it your way.” He is flushed in the cheeks like I’ve made him angry and he snatches up his sword and slices it through the air at the same time that he cups his hand like a bowl, twists it, and is gone.
Well.
I have been visited by a violent god and survived. I willhave to remember that my home—my very bed—is not the sanctuary it had been while Okeanos was alive.
I am not sure what to make of Markanos’s mad statements. He spoke to my husband? Not an hour ago? He wants me to free him?
From what, exactly? Is it possible that Markanos ran into the room after I’d slain my husband, scooped up the pearl—that I did not see when I skewered Okeanos with my spear—and then spoke to his soul?
That is the only explanation that makes any sense. And if there is a way to release these souls from their pearls, then I do not know it yet.
I will not let it worry me. Today is about returning to my people. Today is about making things right. I dare not let anything else distract me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Iprepare as much as I can. I dress my hair, wear the pearl cuirass, and find the cleanest of Okeanos’s clothing.
After changing my mind three times, I even bring out Vesuvius.
He is of little help.
“Unless you’ve called me forth to parade before me the body of my enemy and to let me watch while you hang him up for the nations to ridicule, I have no interest in your company,” he says, looking me up and down with a grimace. “You look terrible.”
I ignore his insults. “I am about to meet my people as their god. Any advice you have to give would be helpful. How do I access the power of a god? How do I channel it to their needs?”
“Everything is bought with a price,” he says, circling me as if he is judging a new purchase.
“And what is your price for this information?” I ask, setting my jaw with distaste.
“Tell me something interesting,” he suggests. “Tell me something I won’t already know.”
I weigh my options. I think Vesuvius is trapped in this pearl and that he cannot harm my plans or tell them to another, but I am not entirely certain of it. I choose something I think cannot harm me.
“Markanos visited me here this morning.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Interesting. Will you wed again, Drowned Queen? Are you entertaining suitors?”
I remain silent and he gives me a close-mouthed smile. “Very well, then let me say it again and we shall see if your weak mind can catch my meaning. Everything is bought with a price. If you need something for your folk, then you will pay for it. A small price for a small thing, a great sacrifice for a great thing.”
“As if you would sacrifice for anything,” I scoff.
He leans in close so that if he had a corporeal form I would be smelling his breath in my face. I do not flinch back, though every bit of me wants to.
“You’ll never know the sacrifices I’ve made, little queen. You have not the mind to appreciate them, but let me spell out one my predecessor chose and see if it enlightens you. She was a weak god, but perhaps you can strive to her mediocre level. Her people were set upon by raiders one night and scattered. She built them a great light in a tower that would guide their ships home but burn up any enemy ship ittouched. The price was steep. To make the light stay lit only for her people, and to make it deadly to all others, she had to feel the fire in her bones the entire time it burned. They say she screamed in agony, roped to the altar of her temple for a full three days as her priests poured water over her again and again as it hissed up in clouds of steam. I wish I’d seen it. Not that it would have stayed my hand.”
