Eleos
Adrenaline flooded through me, concealing the pain radiating in my fractured arm. Pressing the gauntlet to my chest, I hurried up the stairs when a horrible noise stopped me dead in my tracks.
Silence. Unnatural stillness muted the raging fire and ring of steel. Everything returned at once, like a final gust of wind before slamming the door shut.
Ringing pain flared in my ears as the wall to my right crumbled. The stairs shook as a support pillar collapsed. Grabbing the railing, I rushed up the last few steps and beheld disaster.
The Empty began a mere pace from the archway I exited. Pure nothing consumed the center of the chamber, a familiar sight—but not one I’d seen since we’d arrived in Duath Nun. Red light flared at the edges of its expanse.
Seth leaned against the wall to my left, part of his cloak torn away—disintegrated. The panic writ on his face told me he’d narrowly escaped a quick, painless death.
Rushing to his side, I checked him for injury. His eyes flared, and he tackled me, throwing us both to the floor.
The Emptyburst. Wind rushed over us, strong as a gale in ahurricane. It slammed us against the wall. Peeling my eyes open, I peered through my helm at the abyss as it twisted and writhed, consuming itself before vanishing back into the single point of darkness from which it had begun.
Flowers erupted in its wake, growing from the stone floor, rising up the walls like creeping ivy. Petals scattered across us and fell atop Aethra as she collapsed to the ground.
Seth flew to his feet, but he was too late. Commander Aeacus reached Aethra first. Hauling her up by her hair, he pressed his blade to her throat.
Lowering his spear, Seth slowly paced toward him. “You can’t kill her, Aeacus.”
“I cannot harmyou,” Aeacus corrected. “But are you willing to risk her?”
Seth faltered. “Why does Father want me alive?”
Breathing in, I reached for Aeacus’ thoughts.
Terrible conflict stirred in the confines of his closed-off mind. He saw in Seth both the boy he’d trained, the young man he’d tortured, and the traitor he despised.
His orders came from Haimyx, and to the god of life and death, he was utterly loyal. Within that devotion, I found something interesting.
Haimyx had loved Ma’at. No matter what his son did, no matter how they fought, the king would not lose the last piece of his wife that remained.
“The king wants to reconcile?” I guessed. “He wants his heir to return home.”
“He would never—” Seth spat.
“He does,” Aeacus said. “Tell me.” He curled his fingers into Aethra’s hair. “Do you love her?”
Flinching, Seth refused to answer.
“Return home. Beg forgiveness. Your father would happily give her to you.”
Conviction underlined the words. Aeacus believed what he said. My gaze flicked to Seth, searching for his reaction.
“I don’t believe you,” Seth growled.
“Do you think we labor in cruelty for leisure?” Aeacus’ voice rose. “We are the guardians of the Acheron. To allow anyoneinside risks the world falling into ruin.”
“You never cared about the risk,” Seth hissed. “Father only cares for his power, his immortality. And the rest of the ‘gods’ are no different.” He raised his spear. “How dare you try to justify your actions?”
“The Maidens keep the Empty at bay,” Aeacus shouted. “Had you stolen Cassandra away, you would have condemned the world to death. All of us!”
“I don’t care,” Seth snarled.
Everything in the commander’s words was true. Gravity and regret pooled inside him.
I looked up. “Did Ma’at go into the Empty willingly?”
