“Death isn’t sorrowful, or frightening, so much as it is shameful,” I explained. “Like being rundown while fleeing from battle. And—” I hesitated. “And they are certain it won’t find them.”
Eyes darting back and forth, Percy nodded. Resuming his ascent, he stopped just short of the foyer.
Several knights lounged in the room, glittering gold bastards who escorted the Oracle wherever she traveled.
Music spilled across the room, not like a sorrowful requiem but a comedic jaunt from a play. Shame washed over me, the same sensation the men upstairs felt.
One grabbed his face and hurried away. Another fell to his knees, staring at his hands in horror. I saw red rush through a third’s cheeks before he backed into the mantle, catching his cloak alight.
Percy’s spell infected me. I felt like I lay on my deathbed, surrounded by those I’d failed, those I’d allowed to die. Aethra peered into my eyes, accusing. Hating.
A jagged blade dug through my heart, ripping it in half. The moment I’d seen Aethra step into the Empty and survive, I’d vowed to protect her, though I’d voiced my promise to no one.
But I’d failed her. She glared at me, blood streaming from her eyes, blaming me for her death.
A hand grabbed my wrist. The haze cleared.
It was just a spell. Taking a shaky breath, I tried to forget the images Percy’s magic had conjured.
“C’mon.” Percy yanked my arm and ran up the steps.
Dashing through the foyer, we avoided the panicked, flaming guard and flew up the last spiral stair.
Emerging on the fourth floor, my eyes fell upon an ajar door spilling light into the gloom. Hand tightening on the pommel of my dagger, I crept silently to the door and peered in.
The Oracle’s guest suite was lit by countless candles, hanging from the chandelier and set across the wardrobe and table. An enormous bed of silken white sheets nearly hid the woman sitting quietly by the pile of pillows.
Hoping she remembered me as fondly as I remembered her, I pulled back my hood.
‘Trust me,’ I mouthed at Percy before stepping into the room.
The Oracle tilted her head, long white locks shifting across the back of her nightgown. “Prince Set,” she said. “I had a feelingyou’d be coming tonight.”
Dragging Percy inside, I kicked the door closed. “That seems a very insignificant thing for the divines to tell you.”
She chuckled, meeting my eyes. Fondness gleamed in her pale, gray irises.
Thank the Maiden.
“Seth,” Percy corrected her. His brow furrowed. “Wait,prince?” He balked.
Tucking her hands behind her back, the Oracle—who I’d always simply called Cerys—rose and waltzed toward me. “Last I checked, his name wasSet.” She raised an eyebrow at me.
Oh, boy. When Percy found out my fake name only involved changing a single letter, he would give me hell.
Percy glanced between us. “You’re . . .” He trailed off, brows knitting together. “Friends? Why did you make us hide from her?”
“I imagine,” Cerys said, “to hide the truth from that psyche.”
“Eleos?” Percy glared at me. “Why are we hiding things from him, exactly?”
When I didn’t answer, Cerys shifted her attention back to me. “I thought you were never coming home?”
“I didn’t plan to.” I glanced at the open window, feeling the breeze wafting in. “Someone from the Merchant Isles thinks they know how to destroy the Empty. I want to help.”
“Right to the point, I see,” she said.“You came here because you’re hoping I can help.”
“You must’ve been to Hades recently. I need to know what it looks like these days.”
