“Careful there.” Kostas leaned back. “Wind and fire make a feisty combination.”
Iyana quirked an eyebrow at him, a sudden blush heating her face, but released her hold on the winds. The flames settled, and Iyana walked over to Galene.
Together they lay down a short distance from the gods, where they could still feel the warmth of the flames. Iyana got as comfortable as possible on the hard ground, gazing up into the sky—a midnight backdrop with a thousand glittering diamonds faceted onto it.
She rolled onto her side to look at Galene. “How are you doing with all of this?” she whispered.
Galene’s green eyes were glassy in the starlight, and she rolled to face Iyana, too. “I’m grateful you’re here.” She kept her voice low. “And I’m grateful things lined up so I don’t have to attempt this alone.”
“I said you wouldn’t regret me coming.”
“It’s still so dangerous.”
“Um … you’re a deadly warrior.” Iyana tapped Galene’s heart. “You fought your Immortality Trial beast and nearly had it. Nothing could be worse than that sea creature, and now there are five of us. We can take anything on.” She worked to keep her voice confident. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe what she was saying, but the taraxippi had been frightening enough.
“You’re right.” Galene smiled, then leaned closer. “I can’t believe Braxtus followed you out here.” She paused. “Actually, I can. Especially if he thought you were in mortal danger.”
“I was in mortal danger.”
“It’s still a big move.” Galene paused. “I always thought you two were good for each other.”
Iyana let out a breath from her nose. She already knew how Galene felt, and it only tightened the knot of conflicting emotions inside her. She was genuinely almost frustrated that Braxtus was with them. It complicated things. Her face still got hot when he came too close. He was sweet and funny and they had great memories and … and Furies she missed him. But he’d had his chance, and now she’d chosen Demitri. She loved him—Demitri was good to her. He took care of her and loved her deeply. She wished Galene would come to like him as well.
She shifted to look at the gods. Demitri had just settled down to sleep, isolated from Kostas and Braxtus, the two lost in a deep conversation.
Iyana turned back to Galene, who had followed her gaze to the gods, a soft expression on her face. Iyana glanced back and forth between her and the three of them before realizing who she was watching.
“Kostas is handsome,” she said slyly.
Even in the dark, Iyana could see Galene’s freckled cheeks blush. She gave Iyana a wry smile. “He’s decent, I suppose.”
Iyana poked her for the lie, and they hid their giggles before Galene spoke again. “I’m trying to figure him out. He keeps saying things that surprise me.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Yes.”
Iyana smiled. “Hopefully, we’ll be back on Olympus, cleared of all charges after this is over. Then you’ll have all the time you want to get to know him.”
Galene went quiet. Tension settled across her face.
“Talk to me,” Iyana probed.
“I’m worried about Chrysander,” she whispered. “If we follow Kostas’s plan and trap the rebels in the avyssos, the Olympians will kill him for this.”
Iyana found Galene’s hand and squeezed it. “Then you convince him to run. We can trap the others to confirm our story. Without his people he can’t hurt Olympus.”
“He’s stubborn and passionate about what he’s doing. Convincing him to run is going to be difficult.”
“You’re going to have to anyway. His life depends on it.”
They lay in silence by the fire until it burned down low and the others went to sleep. Finally, Iyana closed her eyes.
She stood in the training arena, battle-gear strapped on. With a click and a thunk, an arrow came flying at her.
Iyana caught it on her raised shield, and dread raced through her as she remembered this moment. She turned, throwing a spike at the automatic crossbow to disarm it, but missed by a good foot.
Two more arrows launched themselves at her.
She ran, dodging one, but the other cracked on her shield powerfully enough to make her arm tremble. She knew this, remembered what was going to happen, but was unable to stop herself from reliving it.
Her foot caught on a loose stone and she stumbled. The shield slipped down her arm as she tried to catch herself, leaving her exposed as two more arrows sliced through the air toward her.
But it was okay, because this is when Demitri saved her. She could see him now, coming as though in slow motion, diving at her from the wall of the training arena, ready to knock her to the ground …
He turned to mist, vanishing a second before impact.
The arrows slammed into her.
Iyana jolted awake, sweating, the cool rock beneath her reminding her where she really was.
She sat up and wrapped her arms around herself. Her dreams were becoming increasingly more realistic. She shivered at the memory of that humiliating day on the training grounds. But Demitri had been there to save her. And he was still with her, keeping her safe.
She looked over at him, sleeping peacefully with his arm outstretched. Maybe I can steal some of his body warmth. It might chase away the dreams, too.
Just as she decided to move to him, a sound grabbed her attention. She stiffened, straining her ears. Above the crashing and hissing of the waves, a scatter of sweet laughter rang out. Iyana rose from the rock, moving to find the source. Her bare feet pressed against the cold stone as she picked her way along the most silent path. Reaching the edge, she peered down.
The ground sloped away onto a rugged beach with tall, stone pillars shooting from the earth and water. The waves swirled around and crashed against them, sending spray shooting into the air, sprinkling the four beautiful figures perched atop.
Iyana recoiled at the sight of the women. Humans. I can’t be seen. Then she hesitated, squinting at them. They weren’t small enough to be human women, so they were … goddesses? Out here on the same lonely rock?
They sat in flowing, cream dresses, rich-colored shawls draped over their shoulders and arms. Though they all had perfect skin and long hair, each looked completely different from the others, with varying skin tones and hair colors.
One hummed a starting note, then sweet, velvet voices rang out in perfect harmony.
The sound struck Iyana to the core, stoking a powerful sense of yearning.
Sirens! Panic shot through her and she jerked her hands toward her ears, but then the blonde hit a high note that rang pure and clear. It drew her in—she longed to reach it. She let her hands fall to her sides.
As the ethereal tones built in intensity, the redhead rose from her rock and dropped to the ground below, her bare feet splashing in the tide. Lifting her rich green shawl from her shoulders, she twisted her hands around the fabric for a better grip and began to dance.
She flew across the sand, hardly seeming to touch the ground as she moved with the music, spinning her shawl around her.
A moment later, the woman with ebony tresses and bronze skin leapt down to join her, still singing. She raised the deep violet shawl above her head and mirrored her friend. The two of them danced together, circling, twisting those shawls and catching hold of each other’s.
Their music grew more compelling, pulling at Iyana’s heart, urging her to join them. She teetered for a moment, then, confused at her own hesitancy, started down the slope.
At her step, stones broke loose and rolled down to the shore. Their heads snapped in her direction. The dance slowed but didn’t stop, and they kept their eyes locked on her, appraising her coolly until as one, they beckoned.
She hurried down the side of the plateau, but stopped before she got too close, aching to join them, strangely self-conscious. She swayed to the haunting, thrumming melody. The third goddess dropped from the rock, landing
in front of Iyana.
Cowed by her unearthly beauty, Iyana took a step back. Rich brown locks spilled over the crimson shawl, and her almond eyes gazed at her. A tiny smile of approval formed on the brunette’s perfect lips, and she untied an extra shawl from around her waist, extending it to Iyana.
The music thrummed in her ears and heart, and she reached out to take hold of the blue satin. She ran her fingers along it, marveling. The goddess took her own scarlet shawl and wrapped it around her hands, showing Iyana how it was done.
Together, they began to dance, first stamping to the rhythm, then rotating and spinning with their shawls. The goddesses took her arms, moving her until she picked up speed. Throughout it all they sang, never losing their breath. Iyana hummed to the haunting melody in ecstasy, and the world turned to a blur as she danced.
16
KOSTAS
Kostas woke suddenly, unease crawling down his spine.
It took a moment for him to orient himself. He was lying on his back. Their small fire had gone out. And he was alone.
A soft beat thrummed behind a wistful melody. It tugged at his heart, teasing his emotions.
He clapped his hands over his ears. “Kronos!” he cursed, leaping to his feet. “Sirens!” The notorious sea monsters used their song to lure any being within earshot, lulling them into a stupor so the sirens could kill and eat them. They preyed mostly on humans, but would happily take a god if they could catch one. This is bad. If their song had coaxed his companions away, they could already be dead.
A shadow moved, and his heart leapt. “Galene!” he called, starting after her. She was walking away, silent in her bare feet and tunic as she moved toward the edge of the plateau, unresponsive. Her aura rippled sky-blue calm and pale green longing.
He started running, hands still over his ears. “Galene, stop!” Catching up to her, he hesitated, then dropped his hands and grabbed her. He spun her to face him, and the music flooded back into his mind. Though he could feel it coaxing him, he pushed it back out.
Galene’s eyes were distant. She tried to turn back toward the sound, but Kostas slapped his hands over her ears, shaking her head slightly.
After a few moments, she blinked, eyes focusing. Then fear ripped through her aura, the emotion washing over him as she gasped. She reached up to cover his ears. “Kostas! You—”
“I think I’m immune. Mostly,” he quickly assured her. “Their magic seems to focus on overwhelming the mind with emotion. My gift resists outside influence.”
She nodded in relief.
“Where are the others?” he asked.
“They’re not here?” She moved her hands to her own ears, pressing on top of Kostas’s hands. Once they were firm, he slid his away. She looked around frantically, her alarm rushing against him. “Kronos, they might already be on the beach. We have to go after them.”
“But you’ll get transfixed again! You stay here, I’ll go. I can help them snap out of it.”
“No!” Her eyes were wide. “I’ll keep my ears plugged. I’ll yell. But Iyana’s down there!” She didn’t wait for his permission, turning and racing to the edge of the plateau, then starting down. He leapt after her, heart pounding.
Down on the beach, five beautiful figures danced. He could tell instantly they were neither gods nor humans. Their auras were muted, with basic colors fluctuating sluggishly. The dominating feeling emanating from them was a greenish brown: hunger.
The sirens laughed and sang in incandescent harmony, loose hair shining in the starlight. Kostas’s breath caught at the emotion in the music, but he tore his eyes and mind away, scanning again for his companions.
Braxtus and Demitri were at the bottom of the plateau, both moving toward the charming sirens. Kostas swore under his breath, moving faster to keep up with Galene as she hurtled toward them. If he could get to them before they made it all the way …
One of the sirens let out sweet laughter, spotting Braxtus and Demitri. She held out a hand, beckoning, and both of them eagerly picked up their pace.
Galene skidded to a stop, and Kostas collided with her. “What?”
“It’s Iyana,” she whispered.
He looked around again. “I don’t see her yet, but that doesn’t mean—”
“No. It’s Iyana.”
His eyes fell back on the sirens, and he understood. The one who had beckoned to Braxtus and Demitri danced for them again, familiar white-blonde tresses spinning as she moved.
His stomach dropped and he broke into a sprint, skidding down the slope. The intensity of the music climbed, and he had to grit his teeth against the influence. “Don’t forget to yell if you have to!” he called over his shoulder.
Two of the sirens moved to meet Braxtus and Demitri, reaching out and clasping their hands, still singing.
“Braxtus!” Kostas yelled. “Stop!”
Braxtus didn’t seem to hear him, but the tall brunette dancing with Iyana jerked around. Her eyes narrowed at him, a touch of dark orange caution leaking into her aura.
He forced himself to slow down as his feet touched the sand. Pretend to be entranced, he told himself, letting his eyes glass over. The brunette still watched him, but she let him approach.
The redhead was singing sweetly to Demitri. He stared at Iyana, but the siren tugged him away, and he followed her toward the tide. The black-haired siren cajoled Braxtus, trying to pull him away, too. Before Kostas could reach his friend, the golden blonde cut him off.
She smiled, raising a soft yellow shawl and looping it around his neck. She sang, and a nearly irresistible longing penetrated him. He gaped at her.
No. The thought surfaced. I am God of Games. Emotions are my realm. I control how I feel. He forced the feelings back. She paused, but it wasn’t long before she smiled again, pulling him along. When they were close to the others, Kostas grabbed the shawl, ducking out from under it and spinning toward Iyana. He grabbed her shoulders mid-twirl.
“Iyana, it’s a trap!” he hissed.
She pulled away, not looking at him. The two sirens close by watched, unsure of what he was doing.
He seized Iyana again, this time ducking his head until she looked directly into his eyes. “They tricked you!” he tried again, giving her a shake. “Come on!”
She shoved him, hard.
Kostas staggered away.
Iyana’s eyes were cold as she turned her back on him and kept dancing.
“Kostas!” Galene cried. “They’re going to kill them!”
Kostas spun, looking to see Demitri and Braxtus up to their knees in the water, oblivious to their state as the sirens pulled them farther into the sea. Galene stood on the shore, hands over her ears, face screwed up in concentration. The tide slunk back, keeping the gods from getting deep fast, but it seemed to be all Galene could do against high tide.
Kostas started to move again, but a cold hand closed around his arm in an iron grip. He twisted, bringing his elbow up to slam into the brunette’s jaw. Her aura snapped red. She hissed, letting go, and Kostas sprinted into the water.
“Braxtus! Demitri! Wake up!” The water slowed him down, but he forged on, cursing himself for not bringing his bow. The siren with Braxtus looked up, the melody on her lips transforming to a snarl. She left Braxtus—who stood there, stupefied—and lunged at Kostas, anger dominating her hunger.
He raised his hands to block her first strike, but her second took him across the temple, and he stumbled. Lowering his shoulder, he tried to ram her, but the dark-haired siren twisted aside, using his momentum to pull him past her. She struck with open hands and brutal strength. Kostas barely kept up with the bludgeoning—his skills didn’t lie in hand-to-hand combat.
The siren shoved him back, then seized his arm, twisting it painfully until he lost his footing. His head went under the water, and she forced him against the sand.
They think they can drown us, Kostas realized, staring through the seawater. To his right, he could see Braxtus’s bare feet, standing still in the se
a. He struggled for a moment, then let himself go limp, breathing out bubbles into the water.
The siren’s grip loosened.
He kicked her, then launched himself at Braxtus, swinging a fist at his blank face. The punch landed hard, and Braxtus toppled backward, falling into the currents. He looked up in shock, and his eyes lost their dazed expression. Kostas grabbed his arm and yanked him back to his feet. “Fight!” he commanded as the siren screeched, leaping at them again.
Braxtus turned and caught the siren’s hands with his own, bringing his knee up to sink it into her stomach. She screamed louder, writhing and wrestling to break free of Braxtus’s grip.
There was a large splash behind Kostas, and he flipped around to look for Demitri. He and the redhead were nowhere to be seen, but bubbles rose to the surface a good distance away.
“Demitri!” Kostas left Braxtus and the siren to their fight, splashing through the water to try to reach him. He can breathe underwater. He can fight. If he’s not still entranced. Kronos, what if he’s …
A figure erupted from the water: tall, dark-haired, and dripping. One hand grasped his javelin, the other was tangled into the red locks of the siren, dragging her head above the water. She screamed with rage and fear, raising the hair on the back of Kostas’s neck at her inhuman cry. All the entrancing music had stopped.
“Get out of here,” he yelled. “I’ll deal with this.”
He pulled his javelin back. Braxtus ran into Kostas, pushing him to the shore, so Kostas didn’t see the javelin fall, but he heard the scream cut short.
Snarls and splashes from behind them sounded that Demitri had engaged the dark-haired siren as well. On the shore, Galene faced the blonde siren, a few paces apart. The blonde tied her yellow shawl around her waist and raised her hands, as though ready to stop Galene from passing. Behind the siren, Iyana still danced with the brunette, oblivious to the screams, somehow still entranced despite the lack of their bewitching melody.
The Immortal Game Page 11