“Did you compete?” Percy asked.
“No,” Seth half-laughed the answer. “Mymotherhadn’t been born yet. But Callesis is next, so either we face a trial of art or luck.”
“Art sounds lovely. Let’s assume luck,” Phaedrus said. “We’ll have to think on our feet. Luckily, two of us are psyches. It should be easy enough to communicate.”
“Not a chance.” Seth stepped back. “It was bad enough hearing Eleos in my head.”
“You don’t trust me? Why did you task me with protecting Aethra, then?”
Seth looked away, hiding his face behind his bangs. A tiny smile played at Phaedrus’ lips—he meant to drive a knife through Seth’s heart.
In doing so, he made clear an unpleasant truth: Aethra was safer with our enemy than with us.
I sighed. “We don’t have much choice. Allow me one thing, and I’ll agree.”
“Name it,” Phaedrus said.
“Drop your walls. Let me see you don’t mean to betray us.”
Standing straight, Phaedrus’ shoulders tightened. After a moment, he relaxed and nodded. “Alright.”
The walls shielding Phaedrus’ mind dropped. Seeking his consciousness, I found my way into the still sea of his thoughts.
Most people had an underlying emotion that dwelt always within their subconscious. Aethra existed beneath a torrential rain of sorrow; Percy jumped with fear, always worried the clock was about to run out. Seraphim bristled with a quiet anger that hid powerful grief.
Phaedrus felt nothing.Nothing.
Unsettled, I pushed past the surface. Every errant thought rushing through his mind came and went without disturbing the stillness. Calm, composed, even-keeled. Much the way Aethra had described me.
Inside his mind, I found twin thoughts that revealed his truth.
‘We both seek the Acheron. If others bar our path, working together is the best option.’
‘I wonder if he suspects I’m trying to deceive him.’
Though I hadn’t sought it, another whisper caught my ear.
‘Seas. He looks so much like her.’
Grabbing hold of that thought, I followed it, hoping to dive deeper into his subconscious.Her. Who did he remember?
Muted emotions accompanied his memories—felt not in the present, but in the past. Fondness. Adoration. Grief. But Phaedrus had long since numbed to their joys and pains.
Something stirred, deep in his mind. A single dash of color in the gray of his soul.
Hope.
‘I can’t believe he’s alive.’
Snapping my eyes open, I broke the connection. Aethra was right. I might be able to drag him back from the brink.
“I trust him,” I said, looking at Percy. “Open your minds. If we get separated, we’ll still be able to coordinate.”
“Alright,” Percy said readily, extending his hand.
Scowling, Seth tentatively offered his. “I don’t like this.”
“I don’t likeyou,” I said.
