For the last five weeks, Tethys waited, vomited, slept, and waited some more. Although Altair’s correspondence with Polaris was frequent, her sister had yet to arrive. Nora and a select team of midwives examined Tethys nearly every other day. Measuring her belly as it grew, tracking how many times she ate, drank, and even relieved herself. The rate at which her pregnancy progressed surpassed that of the mortal gestational period, and Nora supposed that she’d deliver the babe in six months’ time rather than nine. Immortal life slowed past adulthood, but sped by just after conception.
Tethys’s throat burned from expelling her stomach contents earlier that morning as she sipped from her water glass. Fragrances she once found comforting, freshly bakedbread or a poured cup of coffee, now sent her sprinting to the washroom. Even the lavender soap and primrose oils she loved so much repulsed her.
The days were agony, the nights even worse. Days passed, then weeks, with no reprieve. How much longer could she take?
“Why don’t you sit, sister? I have a message from Lieutenant Araes,” Altair said, placing a sealed scroll beside her. Tethys made for the window, raindrops sweeping down the glass, and watched two beads race down the pane. If the left won, she’d force herself from the safety of the study’s neutral smells of leather and aged books and draw a bath. If it was the right who came out victorious, she’d sink into her usual leather wingback, and rot under a velvet throw whilst waiting for daylight to fade into night.
“Thank you,” she replied, keeping her eyes locked on the competing droplets. “Any word from our sister today?”
Altair braced his elbows against his knees and gestured for his sister to sit. While Tethys never outright told Altair of the little light growing within her, there was an unspoken acknowledgement from him. She couldn’t hide the frequent checkups with the Aquilaean midwives, or the constant nausea laying waste to her appetite.
It’d been a week after Araes returned to Venia when Altair arrived at her bedchamber door, an anti-nausea tonic in one hand and a plate of plain bread in the other. She’d accepted his offering, like an olive branch between feuding realms.
Tethys clicked her tongue and returned to her seat.
“She’s sent word, yes. The full moon is tonight. Her wards should be strong enough to risk leaving Ursae for a day or two. The Ursaean council is meeting now to discuss their defense strategy while she’s away.”
Tethys’s throat dried. “She’s told her council of our plans?”
Altair barked a laugh. “Absolutely not. She’s told themI’ve called our siblings to Aquilae to hold counsel of our own. No one outside of our select circle knows of the plan, or that you’re here, for that matter. Do you not trust our sister?”
Tethys’s lips thinned as she scrutinized her brother’s eyes, now dimpled in amusement.
“Of course I trust her, but this lack of urgency of hers when faced against a primordial evil is concerning. She will be here tonight, then?”
“Yes, sister. She will be here tonight. Now, drink up. You’ll need your strength. The journey ahead won’t be easy,” Altair said, tossing her a knowing glance at her belly. He placed a tonic beside Araes’s message, left unread.
Tethys nodded, uncorking the glass jar and closing her nose before draining its contents. The brownish liquid, all too similar to muddied river water, sloshed down her throat, leaving a lingering taste that raised gooseflesh across her arms—mint and rotten lilacs.
“Eos above, that is revolting. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” Tethys grimaced, shivers rolling through her body. The tonic churned her stomach, draining her face of color. “Distract me, Altair, from this ungodsly taste. Before I’m sick on your precious reed rug.”
Altair frowned, toeing a woven wastebasket closer to her chair. “Every strand woven into this rug is laced with gold thread as delicate as spider’s silk. If you stain it, you’re buying me a new one.”
Tethys scoffed, her nose prickling with an onset wave of nausea. She leaned over the marble coffee table and retrieved Araes’s letter. Unfurling the scroll, she scanned its contents, keeping a solid dam against the flood of heartache his small, concise script welled up.
“What news does he bring?” Altair asked, snapping a finger. A crystal glass of whiskey appeared in his palm.
“The 15th have led a number of scouting missions, and his captain plans to lead an attack on the rebel base.They’re marching at dawn,” Tethys replied, her fingers gripping the parchment. “Even with the 12th and 10th, they’re outnumbered three to one. It seems the rebellion’s roots are far deeper than we ever could have imagined. And now with Venia in flames, they’ve doubled their numbers with eastern separatists.”
Altair returned his whiskey to the table beside him. His eyes, now a dark shade of grim, watched Tethys closely as she continued reading Araes’s letter.
“It will be an execution if they attempt to take that outpost, Altair,” she said. Her body tensed as the color drained from Altair’s umber skin. She expected her brother, the wise eldest son, to respond with a comforting encouragement, but he remained silent.
“Activate the southern army. They don’t stand a chance without your support,” she begged, her words practically clawing at the hemline of his cerulean robes.
“I’ll send them, but Tethys, even if they left within the hour they wouldn’t arrive in time. It’s a week’s ride to that outpost for even a solo rider. The best we can do right now is to focus on sealing the gate. You said yourself, there won’t be a realm to defend if we don’t,” Altair said, placing his palm on hers. His comfort was a sunbeam against her skin, and yet the warmth stayed surface level. Her blood was a cold blast up her veins. It was more than likely, by tomorrow’s sunset, her lieutenant would be dead.
† † †
Araes stood at attention, watching his new commanding officer, Captain Haidee, pluck a speck of lint from a no-rank’s uniform. With Haidee standing no taller than five feet, it was nearly impossible to contain his snort as the no-rank’s throat bobbed under her vicious eyes. He didn’t doubt her cutthroat demeanor made up for what she lacked physically. Her scolds sent shudders throughnot just the no-rank, but the whole damned battalion, now taut and stiff in formation.
“We’ve spent the last month training, fighting, and ensuring every precaution and preparation is executed with the utmost of perfection. The fate of our great realm lies in your hands today, soldiers. North flank” —the section to Araes’s left barked a response— “you’ll take the sentries along the outer keep’s exterior. Southern flank” —a gruff response from Araes’s right— “once the northern flank gives their signal and opens the gate, we’ll attack from the south. The 12th and 10th will follow close behind.”
Haidee, with palms laced behind her, paced down the front row of men, pausing every so often to adjust a soldier’s posture or wash a stone-faced no-rank with scrutinizing eyes.
“There is no room for error. Understood?”
The ground trembled with the thud of spears and scrapes of steel shields across gravel.
