“And,” I said, “you think they’re safe?”
“Most likely. Seth is smart enough to know to leave with all haste.” Cerys said.
“Then we go to Ma’at,” I said. “Seth already suggested as much—he’ll bring Aethra there.”
“Hm.” Seraphim jerked her head. “Stay in the front, Phae. Where I can see you.”
Phaedrus gestured to the Oracle. “Point the way.”
“Align yourself with the mountain’s peak.”
Following her hand, Phaedrus trotted down the hill, waiting for Seraphim to catch up before proceeding.
I started following, but stopped. Seth knew how to navigate this country because he was the prince.
Weasel.
Percy and I fell in step with the Oracle. While he looked her up and down, summoning the courage to speak, I asked a burning question. “You spoke of an insurgency?”
“Yes.” The Oracle nodded. “Many rebellions have risen and fallen over the course of Duath Nun’s history. The last . . .” Her gaze drifted to Seraphim before snapping back to my face. “Life is cruel to many in this place. When you reach Ma’at, I will show you how.”
So that’s how they knew one another. Seraphim seemed precisely the type to join a losing battle.
“I sensed it in Naunet,” I said. “Something is wrong here.”
“It’s nothing magical, if that’s your intent,” she said softly. “People simply have no hope.”
Percy found his voice. “What’s an insurgency?”
“The Merchant Isles haven’t seen one in decades,” I explained. “Insurgents hide in the shadows, working in small cells to destabilize their rulers.”
“Oh! So kind of like thieves, on a heist.”
“Sure, Percy. That works.”
The Oracle smiled, chuckling. “Allowing you to reach the Acheron will throw the kingdom into disarray. It just might be the advantage we need.” Her mouth drew into a thin line. “I cannot accompany you for long. My escort will grow suspicious.”
“But you’ll help us? And you’re a . . . goddess or something, right?” Percy’s hat slid down his face, and he flipped it back up. “Great! So, uh, can we call you Cerys or . . .?”
“I am not a god,” Cerys said. “And I would like to be called by my name again. Set was the only one who did.”
“It’s a beautiful name,” Percy said dreamily. Clearing his throat, he straightened his back. “Ever wanted to learn about the Merchant Isles? Or maybe you’d like to hear about Seth’s misadventures? I am a bard, you know.”
“Oh.” Her eyes lit up. “You’re a muse, too, aren’t you? Catch me up on the past ten years. Set will never tell me himself.”
“I never would have guessed you were one, too.” Percy blanched, regretting his words. “I mean, not to say—”
“I’ve hidden my hobby for decades. I’mgladyou didn’t guess.”
“Oh. Well, in that case.” Fixing his hair, Percy launched into his performing tone, where he spoke with elegance he could not muster elsewhere. Tilting my head, I noticed an unexpected light in the Oracle’s eyes.
She found him terribly amusing. A smile tugged at her lips, and she listened eagerly.
Reading the air, I fell behind, giving them space. The slower pace was welcome. Everything still hurt.
Focusing on Phaedrus’ back, I mulled over Aethra’s insistence that the man Seraphim remembered was not fully gone and could be revived. If he left his mind open to me, perhaps I could find the thin threads leading him to our side and pull him back.
Long ago, I’d been a monster myself. I liked to think I wasn’t anymore.
