“Canissaen weapons, perhaps?” the soldier asked, kneeling beside Araes.
He shook his head. The Canissaen sigil wasn’t arrowheads, but a stag. Their weapons, although barbaric in comparison to those forged in Venia, were nonetheless lethal. This crudely hammered dagger was blunt and heavy in Araes’s hand. Although beautiful, the craftsman’s intentions for these blades clearly weren’t to battle.
“Maybe Captain’ll recognize that sigil,” the soldier suggested. Araes huffed a reply, his thoughts spiraling as he scanned the remaining dead. Protruding from each blood- and grime-soaked sheath was a gleaming golden pommel.
They weren’t stolen from the Canissaen armory, nor were they strung together with river rock blades and hand-spun twine. Someone supplied these men with weapons. Araes shifted on his feet, watching the early morning mist crawl across the courtyard, seeping through red-stained clothes and pale, lifeless skin.
“Search the keep. Collect every one of these blades,” Captain Haidee barked from across the yard. Araes rose to his feet, knees cracking with exhaustion.
Storming the fortress was supposed to be the last push in silencing the rebellion, leaving the realms in peaceful, quiet harmony. Instead, however, it would be the ripple of thunder before the final storm.
Chapter 65
“Are you sure about this, sister?” Polaris asked, midnight hair whipping across her cheek in the approaching offshore gale. The jagged cliffside jutted from the sea, sending furious waves breaking against grey stone.
“As sure as I can be,” Tethys replied, pulling her cloak tighter. Altair transmitted them to their familial home shortly after their sister arrived in Aquilae. Her dark navy skirts trailed her like snowflakes and the opal pendant, now dangling from her slender neck, twirled in the rising winds. Stars speckled the night sky overhead, casting out the shadows that lurked between rows of wild sea grass and massive willow trees. The orb Tethys kept concealed in her pocket hummed with ancient, excited energy.
“Let’s make haste then, before Mother and Father realize we’re here,” Altair whispered, leading his sisters up the dirt path toward their massive family palace. Like a fortress carved from sea stone itself, the castle pierced the sky, splitting the grey, overcast clouds into swirling trails of rainy threats. The three immortals followed the trailthrough fields of pampas grass and broken boulders—artifacts from their home’s creation.
“The wards are stronger than I remember,” Polaris whispered, the screaming winds nearly stealing her voice away.
“Maybe Father strengthened them to keep us out. Do you think he suspects our return?” Tethys asked, curling her hair into a knot behind her ears.
“He’s too busy dealing with Proc, I’m sure. I can feel Mother’s light. Polaris, can you sense his darkness?” Altair asked.
Polaris closed her eyes for a moment, the tendrils of hair draped down her frame flowing with shadows.
“His essence is faint, but nowhere near strong enough to be here,” she replied finally.
“Well, good, it’ll be easy enough to sneak under Mother’s nose, then.” Altair raised a palm to the iridescent curtain sparkling across the open gateway, like a warning not to enter. “Perhaps this ward isn’t to keep us out, but to keep something in...”
Tethys scanned the massive fortress walls towering over them. The palace had only two points of entry—gates that burrowed through thick stone and opened into a massive courtyard.
“I don’t know if this will work, but what do we have to lose?” Tethys asked, approaching the translucent wall. She retrieved the prism key from her cloak, pressing it into the magic with trembling hands. Polaris, just over her shoulder, drew a breath, watching her sister with concern furrowed in her brow.
The prism key vibrated in Tethys’s palm, as if it were a siphon stealing the ward’s power. Tremors shot through the ground, sending ripples over the coastal grasses. The ward parted just above Tethys’s waist to form a keyhole, its shape mirroring the key’s silver teeth.
“Go ahead, sister,” Altair said, gesturing toward theward. Tethys inserted the key, her breath fixed in her lungs and twisted. It clicked into place, releasing a lock mechanism somewhere with the magic. Then, as swiftly as the keyhole appeared, the ward dissipated, leaving only shimmering specks of aether floating on the wind.
“Well, let’s go, then.” Tethys smirked and returned the key to the safety of her cloak. Although the storm loomed overhead, the air inside the castle yard was warm and dry as a perfect sunny day.
“I guess Mother still maintains her magic here,” Altair said, starting for the castle’s entrance. “It’s been—Eos above, how many centuries since we’ve all been back here?”
“I’ve lost count, but it’s just as we left it,” Polaris replied, pulling a wooden training sword from its rack. Tethys smiled sadly, glancing at the sword in her sister’s hands.
“I believe that’s yours, brother,” she said.
Etched on the crudely carved hilt was Altair’s name in scribbled lettering. Altair smiled and took the training blade from the night goddess, faking a dramatic parry as he sidestepped away. How many hours did Tethys watch her brothers in the yard, jabbing and slashing at one another with feigned aggression?
“I always did want to join in your duels, Altair,” Tethys whispered, watching her brother dodge an imaginary enemy. He froze for a moment, catching the sadness lingering over her expression.
“I’m sorry I never let you,” he said, his voice suddenly earnest in its tone.
“You were a child then, influenced by our father’s traditional customs,” she said, holding her palm out toward Altair. He placed the training sword in her hand. It was heavier than she’d imagined. “I still enjoyed watching you kick Procyon’s ass.”
The memory soured when she thought of Procyon. Hehadn’t returned to Aquilae, and while his absence lifted the weight pressing on her chest, his rage over what he’d learned that day trailed her like a shade.
Little fires circled from every direction, creeping closer to the kindling beneath her feet. She sighed and followed her siblings to the castle’s entrance. Extinguish one at a time. Rescue the Venian children today, face Procyon’s wrath tomorrow.
