“While I agree it’s due time, there’s another matter we must discuss,” Altair said, eyeing his sister.
“I assume you mean my husband,” she replied, watching a falcon circle the raging waters below. “I must admit, our impending reunion haunts me. Past your wards, I’m powerless against him.”
“Procyon has called our father to council,” Altair said. Tethys turned on her heels, stunned by her brother’s words. “His accusations are…well, extensive.”
Silence fell between them save for Aryx cooing in her arms.
“And Obscuros accepted the request?” she asked, sucking in a breath.
“He’s agreed to hold court in Venia, actually. In two days’ time.” Altair watched her expression closely, his brilliant eyes scrunched at the corners. It wasn’t often the summer king involved himself in anything outside the southern realm, and now, he stood between the east andwest.
“We will leave tomorrow, although I fear there isn’t much of a home to return to,” Tethys said, holding her son close. Altair’s eyes wandered to the babe. “Do you want to hold him?” She knew her brother wouldn’t ask, but he desperately wished to. The southern king nodded and held out his arms.
Tethys placed her swaddled son in the Altair’s embrace, grinning as her all-powerful older brother cautiously pulled him close. Aryx was so small in Altair’s arms, just a delicate little bundle of blankets wrapped in two massive forearms. The babe yawned and settled into his warmth, like a soothing summer’s day.
“He feels nearly weightless,” Altair breathed his eyes glinting with wholehearted affection. “Eos above, sister, he’s…”
“Perfect?” Tethys offered, brushing a thumb along the infant’s brow.
“You’re so loved already, little fighter,” her brother whispered. A weight lifted from her chest. This was the family she so desperately sought. The unconditional love shared between blood. “Wait until Polaris gets a hold of him. I don’t think she’ll ever let him go.”
Tethys laughed in response. “Until she has to change a diaper or two.”
Altair’s grin was one of pure joy. The world around them burned to ash and the future still lay deep in the dark unknown, but it was undeniably brighter. Even if only a flicker.
Chapter 73
Tethys traveled through the murky haze of stars until the sores on her feet bled. How long had she walked? When had she last slept? It was hard to remember in this all-encompassing darkness.
“We’re nearly there,” a voice said from beside her.
“Nearly where?” She couldn’t remember where she was going. Only where she had been. Everything else was stardust.
The voice didn’t reply, so she continued on, her joints cracking beneath exhausted muscles. The shadows stole her very identity, right down to the marrow in her bones. What was her name? How long must she walk in this horrible place? It was cold. Too cold. She wouldn’t last much longer.
There was a glint of a golden sword up ahead. The first light to catch her eye in hours, days, centuries? She wasn’t sure the last time she’d faced the sun. After trudging through the endless void, would her skin burn under its rays? Maybe she morphed and molded to the dark like a creature of shadow. Maybe she was the shadow itself.
“Follow without doubts, Daughter of Dawn,” the voicewhispered, echoing from every direction.“Keep your eyes pointed toward the light. Now and until the end of time. Always find the light.”
In the distance, a man with blonde hair and swirling black ink raised his sword and sprinted into battle.
Chapter 74
Stained glass windows painted the rising morning light with shades of orange and pink. Gemstone chandeliers lined the Venian high courtroom, illuminating the panel of Venian council members that watched in their wingback velvet thrones. Tethys’s gaze connected with Lord Kalos as she approached the dais. His lips thinned when he noticed the wiggling infant bundled in her arms.
The partially reconstructed manor had greeted her upon their return to Venia the night prior. Tethys’s chest ached as she looked upon the skeletal frame of the east wing, but with her son snuggled tightly against her breast, she knew they’d rebuild together. The memories of her trauma were ash. It was time she made new ones. Ones filled with soft smiles and the patter of little feet.
Now, Obscuros and Phosphora sat center in the line of hardened, expressionless faces. Their aura of primordial reign radiated about them like translucent beams of power washing over their marble-like skin. The primordials refused to meet her gaze, keeping their eyes fixed on thestained glass mural behind her.
“Lords and ladies of the High Court,” Lord Drakon croaked. “We’ve been called upon today to discuss these revoltingly treasonous actions.”
The audience, both Canissaen and Venian nobility, turned to face the spring queen and her babe. A door behind the council members swung open. Procyon, with his head held high, entered the courtroom. He approached the dais, his long, braided beard swinging from his chin with each stride.
Tethys trembled in his presence, flashes of his abuse scattering her thoughts. She took a step back, keeping distance between them.
“Nice to see you again, little bird.” Procyon smirked, his cruel gaze like a brand upon her. The shimmering current of Altair’s ward encapsulated her. She glanced behind her and whispered a breathless thank you to her brother. He nodded in response and the ward rippled like coastal sunlight. Polaris stood beside him, her complexion whiter than northern snowfall. Eos’s edition of the progeny clenched tightly in her left hand.
“Procyon, since you’ve summoned this court, care to elaborate on these accusations?” Obscuros boomed, his voice sending tremors through the cavernous marble walls.
