“What’s wrong?” I asked, turning her toward me.
Eleos tried to say something, but winced and cradled his head.
Great, now everyone was going to stare at me and my two invalids.
Shaking off his discomfort, Eleos spoke. “We need to get back.”
Wrapping an arm around Aethra’s shoulders, I guided her away.
Eleos walked on her other side. “Aethra . . . do you feel it too?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “This horrible dread.” She pulled out of my grip. “Where’s Percy?”
Glancing around, I searched for the bard. Had he gone with Cerys? Both had vanished.
“Seth,” Eleos said, teeth grinding together. “What’s wrong with your people?”
Swallowing, I watched the people shakily return to their day.Even without psyche powers, I could read them like an open book: Lord Haimyx had departed their city, which meant something terrible had just passed, or would soon occur.
The dread Eleos and Aethra sensed humming below the surface had increased tenfold. Unavoidable fate—a timer set to run out—had begun ticking without warning.
Aethra doubled over again, face twisted in agony. A wave of anguish struck me, and my hand slipped from her waist. Anger followed, an all-consuming fiery rage that burned me from the inside out. Grabbing my head, I scanned the streets for the psyche I knew was responsible for this torment.
A woman wandered down the road, wan, dressed in a tattered gown. She grabbed one arm, face cast downward, thoughts spiraling out for all to hear.
The people scattered, avoiding her as if she were poison. Like a ghost who didn’t really exist.
“Another one?” Eleos spoke through gritted teeth.
A flash of red passed my vision as Seraphim placed a hand on my back and spun around to my front. Her eyebrows knit, and she planted her hands on her hips. “I thought I told you tostay put.”
“I—” Aethra tried to speak, but Seraphim cut her off.
“Save it.” She turned to me. “Come with me. It’s time to tell them the truth about Duath Nun.”
Lll
I couldn’t relax, couldn’t breathe, knowing my father was nearby. Yanking my dagger from its sheath, I spun it in my hands, keeping myself busy.
Seraphim sat on the floor of our hideout and rolled out a map of the country. Phaedrus paced behind her, and I shot him a glare.
He noticed. “I’m not about to stab Aethra. Relax.”
Hearing her name, Aethra looked up. Eleos rolled his eyes. “Can we focus on the task at hand?”
“This.” Seraphim jabbed the center of the map. “Is the capital city: Hades. Home to the king and the Acheron. Though no one’s sure why, being so near to the heart of the Empty affects life here.” She looked up. “People do not die of old age.”
“Ever?” Eleos questioned. “What about illness? Injury?”
“As far as I’m aware, they can be born ill, but not develop it later. Injury kills them just fine, though.”
Aethra’s brown eyes flashed to me. “You said your father is Haimyx. Seas. How old is he?”
“Four hundred?” I guessed.
She blinked, unable to process what I’d just said.
“That can’t be right,” Eleos protested. “Haimyx’s legend reaches back a thousand years in the Merchant Isles.”
