Something else ate away at her thoughts. Like Vorthal, she was born from the deep, endless emptiness that lurked beyond the mortal realm. If he harbored such evil, such malice, what did that mean for her? Was she still an immortal child, even? The others were so drastically different from her. She’d felt it since childhood, but now there was an explanation. A piece of herself long-since buried clicked into place, but what it would bring was still so unclear.
“Tethys?” Polaris asked, her voice strained. Tethys braced her elbows on the bedside and leaned into her sister’s space.
“Do you need something, sister?” she asked, smoothing a loose strand of black hair from Polaris’s sweat soakedbrow.
“No, no. I just…” Polaris’s violet eyes kindled just behind her pupils. “You were right. I wasn’t there when you needed me.”
Tethys’s lips parted and she sucked in a shallow breath. She stroked Polaris’s cheek with her thumb. Her heated skin was clammy and grey.
“If I don’t make it, I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.” Her sister’s voice cracked as silent tears escaped her eyes. Tethys clicked her tongue, wiping them away. She had been cruel to her sister, but that anger burned so brightly within her.
“You were there today. Without you and Altair, my life…my son’s life would be lost.”
“It’s a boy?” Polaris grinned and intertwined their fingers.
“Yes, and he’s strong. Trust me, this little one’s a fighter,” Tethys replied, a smile spreading across her lips. As if in response, her little light sent a flutter through her body. She placed her sister’s hand across her abdomen. Polaris gasped as he sent another little kick through Tethys’s belly.
“Just like his mom, then,” she whispered. “I love you, sister, but I haven’t proven that in a long time. You don’t deserve this life we’ve forced you into, and you’re right, I’m just as bad as our brother. I saw the signs, heard your cries for help, but did nothing.”
Polaris’s shoulders shook with quiet sobs. Tethys breathed, watching the stoic oldest sister fall apart. She hadn’t remembered a time when she’d seen her sister cry, or even allow a single tear to escape. Her chest cracked open, but it wasn’t rage or hatred or fury that flooded through her. It was love.
“Even if you had, Procyon would’ve found a way to get what he wanted. I’ve come to terms with my marriage and the traumas of the past. He won’t touch me again. Nor willhe ever come close to my son,” Tethys said, resolute in her tone.
“No. He won’t. Altair and I will make sure of it,” Polaris whispered, wiping her eyes.
“Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when Altair returns,” Tethys replied, planting a gentle kiss on her sister’s cheek. Polaris sighed and closed her eyes, pulling the silken sheets over her shoulders.
“I’m so proud of you, baby sister. You’ve grown into such an incredible queen, Tethys,” she whispered, letting her brow relax. Tethys smiled, the warmth in her chest spreading through her veins, and blew out the bedside lamp.
Chapter 69
“I think you should remain in Aquilae until you’ve recovered fully after the birth,” Altair said. The three immortals sat around a golden table the following morning. Early dawn’s light filtered in through soft linen curtains, painting the sunroom in shades of peach and topaz.
“I hate to say it, Tethys, but I agree. Venia’s borders are still incredibly unstable and not only will you have a newborn to care for, but you’ll be weak,” Polaris said, sipping her cardamom tea. Her sister, having recovered from a good night’s rest, arched a brow at Tethys as she opened her lips to protest.
“I can’t simply leave my people without their queen.” Tethys scowled, reaching for a second chocolate scone.
“I merely offer my opinion, sister. I never want you to feel like a prisoner here,” Altair said, pushing the tray of scones closer. Tethys placed one on her ceramic plate and gazed out the window. The calm morning tide lapped gently along the shore below. Her brother offered his home, his protection, and although she knew the decision washers, the options were null.
“I know. You’re right. I’ll stay,” she said, watching a falcon soar along the horizon. Its cerulean wings ruffled in the steady southern breeze as it dove toward the sea, plummeting into the waves, then reappearing on the surface with a glistening fish. “Besides, I’ve come to enjoy your company.”
Altair snorted and returned to his novel. Tethys supposed it was a work of nonfiction, a scientific publication, perhaps on the new innovations in ship building. With the children home safely in their beds and her lieutenant’s battalion on their way home to Venia, maybe she’d browse his library’s shelves. Her heart ached thinking of her own curated collection, now a mere pile of ash.
“And as much as I’d love to stay and enjoy the day with you both, the north calls. I’ve been away for too long already,” Polaris said, draining her mug. The goddess rose to her feet, her silver gown draping her narrow frame. “As always, Altair, it’s been a pleasure.”
Altair pressed a hand to his chest and offered their sister an exaggerated bow.
“I’ll see you soon, sister. Ipromise,” Polaris said, grasping Tethys’s hand. Her sister’s touch was winter’s night in her palm, and although the cold seeped into her skin, she knew Polaris meant it. This goodbye felt different. Unlike the fleeting comfort of a quick embrace, this was a promise. Everything had changed.
“You are always welcome in Venia,” Tethys replied, a quiet tear rolling down her cheek. “Besides, you’ll have to visit your nephew.”
Altair shifted in his seat. Tethys hadn’t told him the sex of the baby yet. It was a secret she hadn’t yet been willing to share, but feeling her brother’s power course through her body in the Rift, knowing what risk he’d taken in offering her that piece of himself, Tethys was ready. Shewasn’t alone in the fight anymore.
“Never a birthday missed, sister. I promise,” the night goddess said, clasping her cloak.
“There’s one other thing, Polaris.” Tethys retrieved the prism key from her robe pocket and placed it in her sister’s hand. “Keep this safe. Maybe somewhere in the archives, but tell no one of its location. We can’t risk it falling into the wrong hands.”Tethys’s hands,is what she meant.If Vorthal’s vision wasn’t merely a mirage of persuasion, then she couldn’t keep it in her possession.
Polaris’s eyes widened, but she nodded and closed her fingers around the thin silver metal. Shadows, although fainter than before, still spidered in her veins. In a few days’ time, Tethys hoped they’d fade forever. She pulled Polaris into the fight, gave Vorthal the opportunity to touch her, and now, she’d sealed her sister’s fate by entrusting her with the key. Entrusting her to keep it far from Tethys’s reach. While her guilt hung heavy just over her shoulder, something else drowned it out.Trust.Polaris wasn’t just the Ursaean patron, not anymore. Maybe it’d taken centuries, but finally, her sister showed up, and that was all that mattered. She’d chosen blood over duty. She’d chosen Tethys.
