“And that’s how the Olympians came to power?” Kaia asks.
I nod. I knew all this and much more by the time I was half her age, but this kind of learning is neither taught nor prized in Sinta. Southern Hoi Polloi are usually about as versed in ancient history as northern Magoi are in farming. But now Kaia has her royal tutor, and I’m constantly filling in knowledge gaps for the rest of the family. Well, not for Piers. With the amount of time he spends in the library, he could probably teach me a thing or two—not that I would ever admit it.
“Zeus and Hera took over, and the Dodekatheon was formed—twelve Gods to rule Olympus. Zeus eventually got bored, created man, a few more worlds, et cetera, et cetera.” I wave a hand in the air. “He impregnated a bunch of mortal women and at least one Titan princess, and here we are.”
Anatole quirks a grizzled brow. “Here we are?”
“What Cat means,” Griffin clarifies, obviously remembering a recent conversation we had at the realm dinner, “is that the Titan princess had a son. Zeus took him from Tartarus and created Thalyria for him. He was the Origin of this world—and its first king. He ruled until his own Demigod children struck him down and then warred amongst themselves, eventually splitting Thalyria into three realms—Sinta, Tarva, and Fisa.”
Griffin cuts me a sharp look, the few remaining pieces of the puzzle that used to be me slamming neatly into place. “Fisa’s royal house is the only one still blood-related to the Origin. That means Zeus is Cat’s great, great, great—”
I wave my hand in the air again. “Go back a few millennia.”
“Grandfather,” Griffin finishes.
I frown at him. “You don’t have to sound so put out about it.”
“It’s just so…” He stops talking, probably trying to figure out a way to say it’s incredibly disturbing without offending me.
“It’s fantastic!” Kaia cries, bouncing in her chair. “Cat’s a Goddess!”
Heat rises in my face. “I wouldn’t go that far.” Really, I wouldn’t.
Anatole leans forward, looking more serious than I’ve ever seen him. “As shocking, and interesting, as that new revelation is, what does any of this have to do with the Chaos Wizard in Fisa?”
I answer before Piers can jump in and steal my thunder again. “He’s a conduit for the Gods, especially Zeus. He’s completely insane. His knowledge is essentially Chaos, a whirling mass without form. Everything. Ever. Forever. If the Gods are listening, and feeling generous, they can help the wizard to focus. If you go about it the right way, he can tell you anything.”
Piers looks skeptical. “So Grandfather Zeus is going to help you out? Tell you where the Ipotane are and how to not get massacred by them?”
I narrow my eyes and lift my glass, tilting it toward Piers in a slightly mocking salute. “Here’s hoping.” I take a sip.
“What’s the right way to get answers?” Griffin asks, always the pragmatist.
Good question. “We’ll figure it out.” Although the last time I tried, I got stuck with a fate-of-the-world prophecy instead.
My dinner suddenly feels like a block of marble in my stomach. I’m going to have to tell Griffin about that.
“We leave in four days,” Griffin announces. “I need to put things in order here, prepare for an absence.”
“So soon!” Nerissa pales.
“Are you serious?” Piers all but growls. “Just because Cat suggests something doesn’t mean you have to do it!”
“It’s a good idea,” Carver says. “If we wait too long to act, Acantha Tarva could regroup and attack. Leaving now gives us a chance to get the Ipotane on our border before she makes her next move.”
“This can’t be the wisest course of action.” Piers addresses Griffin alone, as if the rest of us don’t exist. “I can build a bigger army. I’ve already started.”
“Our recent successes won’t hold off Delta Tarva for long,” I say. “A few months, maybe. She’ll be distracted by preparations for the Agon Games for now, and tradition dictates that the Tarvan royals attend at least the final rounds and then greet the victors.” There’s no need to explain what the Agon Games are. The highly popular, bloodthirsty competition only happens once every four years and is slated to begin several weeks from now, hosted by the equally bloodthirsty Tarvan royals. “A lot of people, especially Magoi, take the Games very seriously, and having them canceled because of an invasion could easily stir up trouble and resentment Delta Tarva doesn’t want.”
Griffin readily agrees. “She wants Magoi support, not anger.”
“Helen’s right to think Delta Tarva won’t take action again before the Games. And then it’ll be the rainy season, which might hamper her, too,” I add. Storms could buy us time. “But even a few months from now, Piers’s army will still be green. With the Ipotane, we don’t have to worry about that. With them guarding the border, they’ll stop any attack before it even starts.”
Piers focuses on me with barely suppressed ire. “If you come back. Going to the Ice Plains is rash, even for you. Dragging Griffin and Carver there is even rasher.”
Even for me? Dragging Griffin? “Should I sit in the library, read all day, and then dazzle people with my ability to retain information I’ll never act upon?”
Piers’s eyes glint furiously. “Maybe you should stop being an arrogant show-off and think about the danger you’re putting people in.”
“Did I bring your family to this castle? Did I suggest taking over the whole Gods damned world?”
“Cat! Language!” Nerissa says sharply.
I don’t look at her. My expression would make her flinch.
Piers holds my stare. His voice drops in anger. “You’re making things seem possible that aren’t, that would never have seemed feasible before you came along.”
“Came along? I was abducted!”
“Semantics.” Piers flicks his ink-stained fingers in the air.
My jaw drops. Words are important! He’d know that if every single falsehood fried him from the inside out. “Griffin took over an entire realm before ever laying eyes on me. He had a vision. He made it happen.” I level a frosty look on Piers. “Is hope forbidden now? I didn’t get that scroll.”
Piers leans toward me, crowding me with his wide shoulders that throw me into shadow. Is he trying to intimidate me? Ha!
“It’s not hope, it’s hopeless. Almost no one survives the Ice Plains. Surviving them, then a war with Tarva, then a war with Fisa…” He shakes his head. “There’s no way.”
“There’s always a way,” I say fiercely. “You just might not like it.”
“War, Cat,” Piers snarls back. “Do you know what it’s really like? It’s not only the other side that bleeds.”
Eleni flits across my consciousness like an iridescent dragonfly under a dazzling summer sun. Laughing. Dying. “You have no idea what I’ve seen. Or who I’ve lost.”
“Enough!” Griffin’s fist hits the table with a startling thud. “We still build the army. We need it. But the Ipotane would be an enormous asset, especially if we move fast and get them back here before the Agon Games begin. They could spare Sintan blood.”
“Or spill yours,” Piers mutters.
Griffin silences further protest from his brother with a quelling, full-on Alpha look. The innate dominance in his granite eyes puts an instantaneous end to the argument.
“Who will you take?” Nerissa asks anxiously.
“Me,” I say, my tone wholly uncompromising.
“And me.” Carver’s tone matches mine.
“Beta Team,” Griffin says flatly.
No argument. Amazing. Although I am kind of indispensable to the mission.
Jocasta’s throat moves on a nervous swallow. Her blue eyes dart to me and then drop to her lap. Is she worried about Flynn?
Kaia bounces in her seat. “I wish I could g
o.”
“No!” the entire table shouts at once.
Her shoulders slump. “You have no idea how boring my tutor is. He’s crusty. He has actual crust on him.” She frowns. “Like a shell. I’m not sure he’s human.”
That’s it. These girls need rescuing. And Gods help me, I need to get away from Piers, or I might maim him by almost, sort-of accident. “Four days, you said?”
Griffin nods.
“Can I take Jocasta and Kaia out for a while?”
Griffin goes utterly motionless. Never a good sign. “Where? And how long is ‘a while’?”
“Not far, and just three days. Into the woods north of Sinta City. One day out, one day to explore an underground cavern I know, and then one day to come back. We’ll leave for the Frozen Lake the day you’re ready.”
“No.” Griffin slices his head to the side. “Too dangerous.”
Griffin doesn’t like me out and about without him because of a not entirely irrational fear of someone trying to steal or kill me. Add his sisters to the mix, and it’s even worse. “We’ll take Carver with us.” I glance hopefully at Carver.
Griffin shakes his head again. “I need Carver here.”
“Then give us Kato and Flynn.”
His already stubborn jaw hardens. He’s about to cross his arms. After that, his eyebrows will slam down, and I don’t want to give him time to think of another reason to say no.
“We’ll be fine, Griffin. I’m chock-full of Dragon’s Breath, and we’ll be back before you can blink.”
“I just blinked,” he says, crossing his arms.
I take a deep breath. This is going to take some finesse, something of which I have very little.
CHAPTER 7
I don’t get my way in the end. Griffin wouldn’t budge, and the extent of his stubbornness was about to drive me insane when I realized I don’t want to be apart from him anyway. I stopped arguing, but not without a bargain. Three days in the castle woods, safe behind our own thick walls. No questions. No checking up on us. No men. No crusty tutor. We go back to the castle every day before dark, which works just fine for me. I get a bath, a hot meal, and then Griffin.
“I did it!” Jocasta shouts.
I grin at the target. Her knife isn’t in the middle, but it’s pretty damn close.
“My turn.” Kaia positions herself in the way I showed them both, the movement fluid and automatic by now. She completely ignores the way the reddened skin on her hand must chafe and lets her blade fly. It sticks dead center, and she jumps up and down, cheering.
I let out a long, low whistle, making her flush with pride.
It’s our final day out, and both of them are hitting the bull’s-eye more often than not. It’s time to move back a few more paces, or aim from the side.
“I still think we should have used your usual practice range instead of making this new one.” Kaia’s naturally bright eyes turn dreamy. “We would surely have seen Kato that way. And Flynn,” she adds as an afterthought.
Hmm. No wonder she’s not running around kissing the pages. She’s already in love.
“We’re trying to avoid them, remember? This is a secret.” Jocasta gets ready to throw again.
Kato already knows. He took me into the city, and I bought the girls each a set of knives the morning we started target practice. The knives are double-edged at the tip and medium weight with sleek metal handles wrapped in sinew for grip. They were hideously expensive because the sinew comes from Kobaloi, gnome-like creatures fond of playing tricks. The vendor said the sinew retains the creature’s magic, which is always useful. I bought myself a set, too. I just hope the knives don’t play tricks on us.
“I don’t see why it has to be a secret. They could have taught us, too. With swords.” Pink infuses Kaia’s cheeks, and I have a feeling she’s imagining Kato’s strong arms around her and his big body cupping hers from behind as he shows her the right way to move. She’s tall for her age, taller than either Jocasta or I am, and as dark-haired as Kato is fair. They’d fit well together.
Gah! What am I thinking? He’s way too old for her.
I frown. What is she thinking?
“Neither of them actually prefers the sword.” I motion for Kaia to stand farther away from the target. She’s so good that anything too close range will start to get boring. “And knives are a good start. They’re lighter, easier to conceal, and you can defend yourself without letting anyone get too close.” Or else they’re really close, but we’re working on throwing, not stabbing.
While Kaia moves back and gets ready again, I help Jocasta with her position. She tends to throw high and to the right. I reposition her shoulders and slowly extend my arm, holding hers by the wrist. “Let go here,” I say when our arms are straight, “when the tip points to where you want it to go.”
Kaia listens and makes a minor adjustment before she throws, keeping her wrist stiff to avoid wild rotations. She hits the red hibiscus flower we pinned to the target as a bull’s-eye and lets out a shriek. She bounces over and hugs me.
“You’re a natural.” I awkwardly pat her back.
“I wish Kato could have seen that.” She grins so wide I see her molars. “He would have been impressed.”
“Kato is more than twice your age,” Jocasta points out gently but firmly. “And he wouldn’t approve.”
Actually, considering the overprotective grrr factor of the four male members of Beta Team—which meant I couldn’t go shopping without one of them as an escort—he was fairly casual about the whole thing. Then again, I did present it to him as a fun new hobby for the princesses rather than a vital self-defense technique.
“Why not?” Kaia asks. “Would Flynn approve?”
“No, he would not.” Jocasta sounds like she just bit down on half a lemon—and broke a tooth on a seed.
“But Cat has knives. And a sword. They fight together. They’re a team.”
Jocasta looks to me for help. I wish she wouldn’t. I don’t exactly have a delicate way with words.
I flip a knife in my hand, the sinew-wrapped hilt hitting my palm with rhythmic, dull thuds. I wish I could spin it vertically like my friend Vasili at the circus does, with the hilt twirling on my hand, but it always tilts right off. “The difference is that I came to them that way. A grown woman. Already a warrior. They know I can handle myself, and they’ve seen me take my fair share of hits and come out stronger for them.” I point back and forth between the two of them with the tip of my new blade. “You, on the other hand, came to them as little baby girls, and they’ve watched you grow up. They’ve seen you scrape your knees and play in the mud after the first rains. Helped you climb trees. With you, their only thought is to shelter and defend. It wouldn’t even occur to them to let you protect yourselves.”
Kaia’s youthful face scrunches up. “That’s obnoxiously unfair.”
“That’s men. Stubborn.” I throw my knife. The blade scrapes against Kaia’s in the heart of the flower.
“Does Griffin treat you that way?” Kaia asks.
I snort. “He can try.”
They both grin at my choice of words. “You’re officially family now. You’ve adopted our motto,” Jocasta says.
My insides take a sudden, violent dive. Griffin would like to make it a lot more official than that.
To distract myself from that alarming train of thought, I whip around, slip my foot behind Kaia, and shove hard on her upper body. With Kaia down, I snake my arm around Jocasta’s neck and haul her up against my body, cutting off most of her air. She squeaks and slaps at my forearm.
Laughing, I let go of her and step back, shaking my head. “At the very least, you should have stomped on my toes or elbowed me in the ribs.”
Jocasta glares at me, but her mouth moves like she might smile. Kaia gets up, grinning. She doesn’t bother brushing herself off. They’re both flushed
and disheveled.
“We have time before dark. I finally got you two wearing tunics and pants, so let’s work on balance and grappling.” I shift into a fighting stance. “I’ll show you how to take someone down and hold them there. Then you’ll have to practice on each other while I’m gone.”
They look disturbingly eager, and I wonder what I’ve started, and whether I should have left well enough alone.
* * *
We assemble in the Athena courtyard after breakfast on the fourth day. Griffin and I are already mounted, but the rest of Beta Team—Kato, Flynn, and Carver—are still finishing their good-byes, strapping on the last of their gear, and readying their horses. If I’m not mistaken, Flynn is moving slowly because he keeps shooting discreet glances toward Jocasta from under lowered auburn brows. Carver, his long, leggy gait slower than usual, only just left his family under the shaded arcades that band the castle’s ground floor like an ornate marble ribbon. And Kato, all blond hair, blue eyes, and corded muscle, moves with casual purpose and lionesque indolence—unhurried in his stride but powerful and inherently ready for action. Despite the stakes of the journey, none of them seems to feel any real urgency to leave.
I don’t like lingering over farewells, and their lagging makes me feel like I have ants in my pants. It’s all I can do not to start hopping in the saddle. Panotii is champing at the bit, and so am I. He prances sideways and bumps into Brown Horse. Brown Horse doesn’t move an inch and regards us with calm, intelligent eyes. He’s so much like his rider that I almost laugh.
Unable to hold back a smile, I drink in Griffin with my eyes. Actually, I look at Griffin all the time. I think about him even more, and every time I do, it’s like a wild kick of adrenaline straight to the heart. It’s distracting. He’s distracting.
A tingling warmth spreads beneath my skin. “I can’t wait to gallop.” I haven’t been outside the city walls since Ios. Panotii and I need to stretch our legs, see for miles, and feel the wind in our faces. It’s good for a horse. For a person who’s been confined to a cage, it’s cathartic. Castle Sinta and its grounds may be big, beautiful, and full of Griffin, but in some ways, it’s still a cage. Real freedom is answering to only yourself, and being responsible for no one. Since that’s a moral vacuum, none but the truly wicked are ever truly free.
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