An elegant toga revealed his wealth, and the embroidered cuffs and stylish boots hinted at his vanity. A heavy cloak hung from his shoulders, drifting across the road behind him. And though his face was not naturally handsome, his sharp nose, well-groomed short hair, and salt and pepper beard painted a handsome figure nonetheless.
Ainwir.
Gasping, I froze, watching my mentor leave the lantern’s bounds and return to the shadows. I couldn’t think, couldn’t twitch so much as a single muscle as he turned down a bend in the road, and I lost sight of him.
I’d been imagining things. Sleep deprivation and pain had driven me mad. A man had crossed my path, but it hadn’t been Ainwir.
It couldn’t have been.
My legs moved before my mind. Stumbling off the patio, I broke into a sprint, chasing after the specter of my past.
12
Seth
Inever slept well. The moment Aethra’s comforting warmth vanished, my eyes flew open.
Sitting up, I scanned the dark, cramped room, hoping she’d wandered off to the latrine. A few problems caught my eye.
The furry mound at the foot of the bed had gone missing, and Aethra’s boots no longer rested by the nightstand.
Swearing under my breath, I flew out of bed and grabbed my cloak, tying it around my shoulder. Strutting about half-naked, I’d look about as subtle as a whore in a temple, but Aethra had torn the only shirt I had.
Whistling, I summoned Whisper, but no one answered.
Right. The furry mound had gone missing.
Well, at least she’d had the good sense to take the dog.
Throwing open the window, I searched the street. Cold wind blustered in, rustling my hair. Aethra was probably freezing in her sleeveless, tattered dress.
A shadow darted by on the eastern street and disappeared around the bend. A smaller shape clung to thewoman’s heels. Whisper.
Vaulting the window, I dropped to the street below, ignoring the protest my knees gave out. Clinging to the edge of the road, I chased after her.
She hadn’t gone far. Crouched behind a wall at the end of the road, Aethra peered around the corner, watching something. Silencing my steps, I managed to sneak up on her. Whisper saw me coming but made no noise.
Wrapping my hand around her mouth, I pulled her back. “What are you doing?” I hissed.
Aethra stared at me with wide eyes, shaking her head and pointing down the road. Moving her behind me, I took her old position and peered around the building’s corner.
Several Hades Knights gathered around a courtyard fountain. Their commander was unmistakable: clad in lavish ebony armor, his crimson cape lined with fur.
Aeacus.
Pressing my head against the wall, I tried to overhear them.
A man sat by the fountain, cowering as Aeacus paced before him. I recognized him, the mound of messy black hair and tanned skin—he’d stood a few paces away from us when the Oracle had been paraded through town.
Which meant he’d seen us. They were interrogating him.
I caught a few words of the conversation. “Strange red eyes . . . with a tainted . . .”
Ducking back around the corner, I held my breath. Aeacus knew we were here—and he’d soon realize who’d attacked him in the forest.
Waving a hand, Aeacus gave an order. One of his men hauled their captive up and dragged him away, while the rest turned in our direction. If they saw us, we would be easily captured. With this injury, I would never be able to best the man who’d trained me.
Though the commander had no idea what my chthonic magic looked like, once we were locked in a prolonged clash, he’d recognize my style instantly.
