Dreading the state of the basement, I crept down the old stone steps, breathing in the stuffy air. Lighting a lantern, the innkeeper set it down on a table in the center of the rough stone room.
“Tomorrow sent word you’d be coming,” she said quietly, returning to the foot of the steps after Phaedrus descended to shut a rickety wooden door. “We don’t have much time. If you’re to aid, we’ll need to plan quickly.”
Tomorrow? That must be Cerys’ code name.
“I heard,” Phaedrus drawled, leaning against the wall. “The empty seat of Ma’at has finally been filled.”
Stunned, I whirled to face him. Seth was not going to take this news well.
“By who?” I asked.
“Haimyx’s daughter. Lady Eris,” the innkeeper said. “Her first procession through the city is this evening. And we’re going to show the king what a mistake it was to overwrite our lady’s legacy.”
Lll
I understood why Seraphim had wanted Phaedrus and me on this job. Discreetly destroying your enemy without weapons was right up our alley.
A thick crowd gathered in the square, nervously awaiting the arrival of their new lord. Even the young faces wore sketches of anger—Ma’at must have been beloved in life, to grow larger in legend after death.
Or perhaps she had simply represented the last tide of resistance left in this world.
Slipping between two men, I eyed the platform where Lady Eris would give her speech. A statue of Ma’at rose from its center, arms spread wide, wings enveloping her back.
Great pillars rose in a circular pattern around the perimeter of the square, framing the road by which the new lady would arrive. Guards stood at alert, clearing a path from the western entrance to the platform.
Our plan was simple: scattered in the crowd, we would drawthe guards’ attention in multiple directions. Seraphim would wound one of the knights, while I would cause a distraction, pointing them toward the wrong culprit. Phaedrus would slip inside another knight’s mind, forcing him to disobey orders and refuse to attack.
Hopefully, the show would result in Eris appearing to have no control over her knights and no power to keep herself or her people safe.
A small thing. But enough small things could eventually turn the tide.
Seraphim touched my back and glared over my head at her brother. “If you leave without her . . .”
Phaedrus rolled his eyes. “Think, sister. Even if I wanted to betray you, I need the girl alive.”
“I can’t believe I used to think you were funny.” Seraphim squeezed my shoulder. “We’ll meet back where we started.”
Nodding, I touched her arm. “Don’t get caught.”
Winking, she slipped through the crowd, taking her position at the other side of the square.
Gasps and murmurs swept through the gathering as heads swiveled toward the west. Bowing my head, I searched for the Seraphim in the crowd, but she had vanished.
Blaring horns rang through the square, and everyone dropped to their knees. Joining them, I lifted one eye to watch the spectacle.
Hades Knights in ebony armor marched at the head, bearing glaives tipped with jagged blades. Commander Aeacus led them, though his blood lion was absent today. The new lady of the city arrived on a throne carried by four men, nearly hidden by the crimson drapes hanging from its sides.
Eris was strikingly beautiful. Long black waves framed her snow-white skin, and scarlet eyes rolled lazily around the crowd. Her resemblance to Seth was all too obvious. Sharp jaws, sharp cheekbones—every feature of their faces matched.
Seth had described Eris as little more than a scapegoat. A sacrifice worth making to strengthen his son—the one heir who mattered.
Did she harbor a grudge toward Seth or Haimyx?
The laborers set the throne down, and she gracefully stepped from the seat onto the platform, a long black gown flowing behind her. It hugged her waist and revealed a generous portion of her bosom—she had confidence to spare.
Smiling sweetly, Lady Eris waited for her men to join her on stage before she addressed the crowd. “Nearly twenty years have passed since we lost Lady Ma’at. She was this city’s beacon of light, a monarch for whom there could be no replacement. Few miss her as dearly as I.”
Eris’ voice carried the same accent as Seth’s—the words flowed together as though hissed by a snake. She sounded friendly, even genuine.
