Grief of the Undying (The Ichorian Epics Book 3)

by Emilie Knight

  Keeping the crimson rope formless, she let it coil around itself like a snake before drawing it back into her hand.

  “I stuck a spike through his gut,” she lied, praying they would never see the body.

  “Impressive,” Queen Aethra said. She held a grin in place, but Pen sensed the concern. “I’d like to thank you personally for helping us. You will be substantially rewarded, of course, and welcome to stay as long as you like. You can even come and go as you please. I’ve heard you like to travel, but you will always have a place here.”

  “You have my thanks, Your Grace.”

  Pen believed the offer to be genuine, but she also heard the underlining idea in Aethra’s mind. This could have easily been a more private meeting in her office, but the queen wanted a spectacle for the people’s sake.

  It irked Pen, but she could only suspect the stresses of being royalty, and she knew pleasing the people was a part of it, so she tried to not take this audience personally.

  Once she was dismissed, Pen bowed and went to leave the grand hall, but another steward caught her arm just outside the doors.

  “Her Grace would like to speak with you privately, so if you would just wait here until the court is over.”

  “Oh, fucking Skia, fine.”

  The insult on his face looked so personal, she nearly laughed from the nerves as well.

  “I’m just having a bad day,” Pen quickly explained. “I’ll wait for the queen.”

  “I’m sorry about all that pageantry, but it is to be expected. They deserve to know what happened,” Queen Aethra said once they were alone in the large private parlor.

  Pen just stood by the door and nodded, not sure how to reply. Her hand clutched the little votive figure in her pocket, reminding herself to look into it later but after getting some proper sleep.

  Aethra approached a table with a bottle and poured red wine into two crystal goblets.

  “Come sit, you look exhausted.” She handed Pen one of the crystal goblets and took a seat by the fire. “My steward, Jasom, told me that you cursed when he told you of this meeting. I hope it wasn’t directly at me.”

  Pen froze at her tone. It wasn’t harsh but it wasn’t playful either. Aethra was carefully guarded as always.

  “I’ve been having a bad time lately,” Pen confessed, “but it wasn’t at you. I’m just not feeling well.”

  She hoped that was enough to tide her over as she took the other high-backed chair.

  “Are you all right?” Aethra asked after a sip.

  Pen really couldn’t tell if her concern was well acted or genuine. She didn’t bloody care anymore either.

  “No,” she said.

  After a pause Aethra said, “Is it about the Fang?”

  “Your city is fine now,” Pen gulped down half of the wine.

  Aethra sat back, drumming her nails on the crystal. The high pitched tapping grated at Pen’s skull.

  “Is there anything else you need me for?” Pen asked.

  “No, and I wanted to thank you more personally, but you don’t seem to like me much.”

  “You didn’t seem to like me when I got here either,” Pen retorted. “Blaming me for Tellus and your husband’s death.”

  Aethra kept her composure well against Pen’s tone.

  Her own thoughts were screaming at her to shut up. Aethra was royalty, and here she was snapping at her.

  Pen bit her tongue and looked to the fire.

  “I was rather harsh about all that,” Aethra said surprising her.

  Pen stayed quiet, not wanting to make things worse.

  “You did well, Pen,” the queen continued. “And what I said down there stands. If you ever need an ally or sanctuary, Stymphalia is open to you.”

  Pen stole a glance and managed to keep her mouth shut.

  “I do … resent what happened to my husband and friend,” Aethra admitted, “but you clearly lost people too. Maybe even recently?”

  Still silent, Pen shifted and looked away. Raisa rose in her thoughts again.

  “I can see grief a mile away,” Aethra said. “And you did bring Tellus home.”

  Pen downed the rest of the wine, hoping it would dislodge the growing lump in her throat. It just made her stomach lurch again. She kept still, though everything inside trembled.

  “I was hoping we could part on good terms,” Aethra finished.

  Pen forced a breath and looked to her.

  “We can,” she said. “Like I said, I’m just not feeling well, but thank you.”

  Aethra smiled. “More wine?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  Chapter Fifty

  Pen

  “Don’t tell me he ate the worm,” Palamedes said appalled.

  “No!” Pen said laughing. “He just wanted to show us. Arch was surprised by the size of the damn thing. He kept it to go fishing later.”

  “Kid had to be proud of that.”

  “Oh, he was. He ran off and just kept digging for more.”

  They laughed together at the image of little Alard digging in the garden. Pen’s mirth faded quickly, though.

  Pen laid back in the grass now. The full moon lit the clearing they settled camp in for the night. It was cold, and would probably frost in the morning, but the fire was high.

  Palamedes sat on the other side of the fire, cleaning off a dagger he used to gut their rabbit dinner.

  Pen couldn’t remember how they’d gotten to the topic of Alard digging up worms, but for once it was nice to talk about him. She wished she could have told Raisa more about him and Arch, but she could tell Drivas. She hoped she could tell Drivas anyway. There was no way of knowing yet if she’d read the letter Pen left with Palrig.

  It still hurt to talk about them, but it was a slightly duller deep ache now. The sharpness had lessened a touch. It was still bad when thinking about Raisa, but forcing herself to write to Drivas helped.

  Conversations with Palamedes were easier than before too, and she was able to relax into them eventually. The first few days after leaving Stymphalia in silence hadn’t even been awkward.

  After a few days, Pen forced herself to talk for his sake, and it finally broke the ice. She didn’t want him mad again, like back at the Travelers Rest, but he wasn’t. He even understood that she needed quiet for a while.

  Scythe’s words would invade her thoughts now and then as they walked, and Pen felt guilt eating at her for blowing her off. She admired Scythe, and Scythe had even granted the unageing addition to Nyx’s curse. She deserved more respect than being ignored. Pen decided to visit her and Dagger at some point soon, and she could check in on Arch and Alard again too.

  They were close to Kression now. It was only a few days north of their camp. At her request, they veered south, avoiding large settlements and main roads.

  Pen raised her arm and examined the scar tissue along her wrist and hand. She hadn’t had to use her power much during this trip, and while she appreciated the break, she noticed she was actually glad the power was there. She’s made an impact with it, a good one. Maybe the Blood Warrior reputation could be mended. It would be scarred, like her hand, but perhaps healed.

  It wasn’t until they were building this camp that Pen saw Malliae and knew that her feet drew her here.

  The torches from the town’s edge lit at night, beckoning yet blocking her.

  Palamedes had known too, though he didn’t say anything. She caught him glancing from the town to her and back several times.

  Arch and Alard’s graves were just a short walk away. That ice hadn’t thawed yet.

  “Did you and your brother do anything like that?” Pen asked hoping for a distraction. “Go fishing? Arch loved it, but I always got bored.”

  A short laugh escaped Palamedes again before he said, “No fishing, but we’d sneak into the amphitheater whenever we could and watch the fighting pits. We were caught once, so we had to run like Nyx herself was behind us.”

  They laughed again, but it died in Pen’s th
roat too quickly.

  Watching the moon, she heard him ask, “You want to visit them?”

  Sitting up and pushing her hair aside she said, “Yes.”

  “I figured you would,” he said. “Want some company?”

  “Not right now, but thank you,” she said standing and appreciating the offer.

  “Can you avoid the town?” he asked standing too.

  “Easily. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll be here.”

  “Just keep the fire lit so I can see it coming back.”

  “Of course.”

  Taking a longer stick from the wood pile, Pen lit the end for a torch. The moon was full, but the tree roots in the forest were still tricky.

  Casting one more glance with a small smile to Palamedes, who waved back, she entered the woods.

  Malliae’s lights vanished as the trees thickened, and Pen trusted her path. The thick pine trees blocked most of the moonlight, but her torch provided enough light.

  A tiny clearing opened up to a little pond, and Pen knew she was close. Arch would come here with Alard to catch frogs. She paused watching the frogs and tiny fish leave ripples on the surface.

  Moving west, she followed the overgrown path to her old home. The cottage loomed out of the darkness only when her firelight reached it.

  Coils of sadness wrapped around her chest at the sight of it. The garden was overgrown as weeds took over, one of the windows was broken, and the roof was sagging. It was completely devoid of life and rotten through.

  She didn’t know what to really expect, but she was surprised no one had taken it over in the past fifteen years.

  The willow tree at the edge of their clearing was huge. It was big before, but now the long branches reached the ground and coiled around themselves.

  Steeling her nerves, and ignoring the cold, Pen approached the tree to see them.

  The branches swayed in a small breeze revealing more than the headstones.

  Her heart stopped at the sight of the figure standing over them.

  “Hey!” she shouted jogging the rest of the way over. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  He wasn’t doing anything, just standing there, staring down at the smaller of the two graves.

  Pen couldn’t see his face with his back turned, and he hadn’t moved when she spoke.

  “Who are you?” she demanded, about to reach out and force him to look at her.

  She didn’t have to touch him because he looked up. The coils around her chest, which had lessened a bit in her anger at the intrusion, strangled her now and grew thorns.

  The torch light fell over Arch’s face, and he watched her silently.

  Pen stumbled back a step at her husband’s face. It was exactly the same as that night. The same slept in, short, black hair and rough beard.

  She couldn’t breathe as he spoke calmly.

  “You killed our son.”

  Pronunciation Guide

  Most names of places and people are based off of the Ancient Greek language in this story. It’s not too difficult to pronounce most things actually, mainly because there are hardly any silent letters, all of them are spoken, and there aren’t many combinations such as “th,” or “ch,” making their own sounds. There are exceptions to the rules of course, but this guide should help with the most common names seen in this story.

  Adrienne – Ad - rie - ne

  Agrios – Ag - ri - os

  Anathanos – Ana - than - os

  Biros – Bi - ros

  Callas – Kal - las

  Carras – Kar - ras

  Chalcis – Kal - kis

  Erenos – Ere - nos

  Emera – E - mera

  Kaliasma – Kali - as - ma

  Kaya – Kay - a

  Kression – Kress - eeon

  Kynthia – Kyn - thia

  Lambros – Lam - bros

  Leander – Le - and - er

  Lume – Lu - meh

  Malliae – Mal - eeae

  Maniodes – Mani - o - des

  Melanthius – Mel - an - thi - us

  Mellas – Mell - as

  Mikrosucros – Mik - ro - su - cros

  Milanos – Mi - lan - os

  Mount Xiphos – Mount Zi - fos

  Myron – My - ron

  Palamedes – Pala - med - es

  Phaos – Fai - os

  Potamis – Po - tam - is

  Proteus – Pro - te - us

  Raisa – Ray - sa

  Rella – Rel - la

  Sallis – Sal - lis

  Sophronia – So - fron - ia

  Stymphalia – Stim - fal - ia

  Tetrides – Tet - ri - des

  Theodora – Theo - dora

  Thyestes – Thy - es - tes

  Xenakis – Zen - a - kis

  Zein – Z - ein (rhymes with vein.)

  Zenous – Ze - nos

  Acknowledgements

  Yeah, I’m still bad at these parts but I do honestly want to thank the people who helped me put the book together. The editors are JC McDowell and Sherie ONeil, the map illustrator is Zakarais Österling. My good friends who designed and illustrated the cover and title are David Schmelling and Louise Phillips. David and Louise also helped with brainstorming some new moments, when I was stuck. Thank you all for helping me make this!

  About the Author

  Emilie Knight studied Ancient Greek and Roman history at the University of Windsor. Using that and her love of Greek Mythology and horror, she ties them together in an amazing dark fantasy combination. Her first novel, Era of Undying, does this as well, even being compared to the Odyssey or Beowulf.

  You can find her on Facebook, TikTok, and Youtube, as well as her website.

  www.emilieknight.com