We’ve arrived under his statue in the common area of the stark white island. There is no table and no dead goddess displayed this time, and yet I’m just as tense.
Water still trickles from the mouths of the towering statues. This time, I look and confirm that Ordanus’s mouth is as dry as El’Dorian’s. Who will they be replaced by and how soon? I can’t help but look over at the statue of Okeanos. I had stood under its shadow last time and I had not hadthe chance to properly appreciate it, but here it is in all its glory, and I’m struck again by his beauty and power and otherworldliness and the horror that I tried to shatter all that. There is no image of me beside him and his fountain still dribbles out a finger-thick runnel. I do not know what to make of that.
“So the gods have assigned places here, then?” I ask, trying to steady myself by focusing on the task at hand.
“Of course. We must sleep one night here every epoch. We’ve each staked out a place of our own. Did you not sleep here in Okeanos’s bed?” He makes a solid point. “And people—even gods—like familiarity. Especially here, where we’re disconnected from the world beyond. Fortunately, there are few places to hide here.”
He gives me a weighted look at that and I return it.
I follow him out across the stone bridge that curves like a rib. Last time I was here, the sun was setting, painting this white bridge in soft color, but now it is fully dark and only the illumination of the faraway lanterns lights our path. I grit my teeth and place my feet with care. Though there is water nearby, I can’t seem to properly feel the sea. It’s as if it is a very long way away even though it ought to be right here. I can feel the echo of it, but it is like a memory of a friend long passed to the Nightwaters.
Okeanos used the power of the sea to fight when he was here, but I am not certain that it will be available to me. It seems too far away.
I take in a long breath to steady myself. There is no roomfor anything less than courage. I have already lost everything. I have already gambled my life and soul. What is one more venture to forward my goal? I reach for the tide, feel it reach back, and I allow myself a very slight smile. Well and good. I hold my trident in both hands as Markanos keeps talking, not even noticing my battle and triumph over the tide.
“That’s why he’ll be on his island here. People seek the comfort of familiarity. They can’t help it. It’s instinctual. A smart man might think he’d choose to hide on my island or yours, but he’ll hide on his own. It’s his. Familiar. Right.”
“I don’t understand why he’s here at all,” I grumble. “Isn’t he leading a rebellion? If he was not at home, then it makes more sense that he would be with an ally.”
“The gods are not so friendly as that, Wife of Okeanos.” Markanos laughs. “Offering succor to another god would be like taking a serpent to the breast. It will not end well. And even if that were not the case, he would still be here. Why go to all the trouble of luring us out just to hide when we fall into his hands?”
He helps me over a part of the rib that is tricky to navigate both because of its slick surface and strange curvature. I offer him a wry smile of gratitude.
“I don’t see how you think he lured us here. We are huntinghim,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow. “Of course he’s luring us. That’s what the attack was—in part, at least. I don’t think he would have cried if it succeeded, but he had to have guessed it might fail. My prowess in battle is well known, as is my thirst foraction. He is certainly luring me out to ground he is more familiar with so that he might strike when he is most likely to win.”
“And is he most likely to win here?” I can’t keep the dryness from my tone.
“No one is likely to win if they oppose me.” He seems very sanguine for someone who believes he is walking into a trap.
“I would think he would have lured you to his home, then,” I say.
Markanos grunts. I shoot him a sideways glance. He has no answer for that, and for some reason it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Something is not quite right here.
“And what do you expect me to do when we find him?” I ask, feigning diffidence. I haven’t told him that I don’t know how to fight. I would have assumed he could already tell by looking at me and seeing my performance so far.
“What I expect from you,” Markanos says, still leading the way, “is for you to provoke just one of those creatures. You don’t have to kill it. Keep it distracted long enough for me to sort out the other one and engage Treseano in battle.”
“And how will I keep its eye on me?” I ask tightly.
“Don’t die too quickly.”
That seems to be all he has to share and I’m almost grateful. It’s hard enough to hold on to my nerve without too many instructions distracting me.
We have crossed the rib and are on the other side wherethe islands hang cloaked in mist and lit by their elaborate hanging lanterns. I watch the cloaked heaviness with wary eyes, feeling that at any moment one of those terrible black creatures might shoot out of the mist and wrap me in its sinuous body. I can still feel the bruises where it squeezed me yesterday and I taste acid in my mouth at the memory of it.
“Tuck in behind me,” Markanos growls to me. “My job is to look ahead for a sign of the enemy. Your job is to scan the islands as we pass and to keep an eye behind us. We’ll aim straight for Treseano’s island, but it is grouped among those farthest from here.”
“My job sounds a lot harder to manage,” I say, trying to look everywhere at once.
“Do you think so? If you’d been with me when we took Grentale Castle, you wouldn’t be saying that. The first vanguard caught an arrow in the eye. The second was done in by boiling oil through a murder hole. Didn’t hit him head-on, just splashed. Terrible way to die. I can hear his screams still if I try to recall it and it was nigh on a thousand years before now. Third man took a blade to the gullet. That was Brennicus, my best friend, a wrestler.”
“A wrestler?”
“Mmm.” He sounds lost in thought. “It was he who found me a place in the army. I carry his dagger yet.” He pats his hip. “I was fourth in the vanguard. I stepped over him as he bled out and took the day. That was before I was a god, of course, but I did love war even then.”
“You loved it?” I whisper, aghast. My eyes are tryingto discern if that is something moving or if it is simply a shadow.
