Almost as handsome as Lucian, golden where the younger brother was colder, the man wore formal regalia almost as impressive as Hera’s gowns, bright blue upon silver.
The only thing I knew about him was that he was a politician and therefore, untrustworthy.
“I mean, given the events of the last twenty-four hours, I’d say, yes,” Gideon offered.
I bit my lower lip, somehow bothered, though I could see his point.
This hall included temples to the gods on the first level, which meant that, if called, they could cross into our world. Yesterday proved that made it dangerous. But the idea of leaving this man entombed here and throwing away the key didn’t sit well with me.
“He’s not going to stay unconscious forever,” Kleos reasoned, frowning. “I can feel his energy. It’s…huge. And he’s not hurt anywhere, I think. This coma feels?—”
She didn’t finish her thought, but watched him, frowning.
“Well, that’s that.” The captain of the Guard sighed. “I say we bring him to the infirmary in the Hall. It’s closer than the hospital.”
Lucian was the first to move, metamorphosing a broken bench into a stretcher with a wave of his hand. Then he frowned. “Unexpected.”
“What?” I asked, instantly on edge.
Lucian wasn’t generally bothered by much. I attacked him mostly unprovoked weeks ago and the man never lost his cool. I didn’t like to see him ill at ease.
“I tried to move him to the stretcher. Didn’t work.”
“He’s likely protected against magic, like me,” Kleos guessed.
Only Kleoswouldhave been able to be moved magically, if she were unconscious. Her protection was against nefarious interference. A simple spell to change her location wouldn’t trigger it.
“I guess nothing beats some good old-fashioned strength,” Gideon boasted, flexing his admittedly impressive shoulders before moving into place.
He grabbed the man under the shoulder and…
Nothing.
Bending his knees, face tense in concentration, the half dragon pulled with his all his strength.
“I think he might just have moved a centimeter or two, dear,” Cassiopea Regis encouraged him reassuringly.
I chuckled, suddenly sure of something.
“Move over, schmuck. This calls for a specialist.” I was bragging, just a little, and I could have been completely wrong.
But when I took Gideon’s place and lifted him up, he moved without any issue, though I had to admit, he was heavy—for me.
This meant one thing.
This man was made of the same as me.
2
SILVER
Ididn’t have any true reason to visit. I supposed I did it because the comatose deity was housed in the Hall of Truce’s infirmary, a mere stone’s throw away from the Guard through the connected tunnels, and I didn’t have anything better to do on my lunch break since Kleos no longer worked with me.
“That’s going to take some getting used to, you know. Her living in the underside,” I found myself saying out loud, as though I were having a conversation.
To be fair to him, Cas was a good audience. Though comatose, his energy was too potent to seem entirely passive. It felt like someone was listening—and of course, never interrupting.
We had no idea what the stranger’s name actually was. My teammates François called him Cas, because he destroyed glass and shields the moment he entered our hidden city in the heart of the Alps, in the most dramatic fashion imaginable, andcasser, in French, means breaking. It suited him in my humble opinion, though I amused myself by guessing his real name now and then. Something strong and manly, for sure. Maximus?
