Page 33 of A Spell of Bones and Madness (Nostos #2)

Surprisingly enough, her armoire was stocked full of gowns, similar to ones she wore in Alentus, but again in those deep hues of the room around her.

It was not only the gowns that drew her attention, but also an assortment of fighting leathers folded neatly at the base of the armoire next to a pair of broken-in boots that were just her size.

She selected a set, the color of a deep glass of burgundy wine, and it hugged her body with enough give that she could move freely, but not so loose that she felt swallowed by it.

The material was lighter than her suits in Alentus, a softer leather that seemed to keep her warm and cool at the same time.

Were they spelled to be this way or, more terrifyingly, had they been made from some beast that lived in these halls ?

Once she dressed and deemed herself calm enough to step outside the comfort of the room, Ember made her way through the winding halls.

Each one seemed eerily familiar like her father had mentioned, save the onyx painted walls and oil-gilded chandeliers that lit every step she took with a magical glow.

The paintings were all the same as well, yet distorted with a blurry sheen, leaving one unable to make out the exact lines of the faces they depicted.

Thick crimson velvet lined the great hall, a stark contrast to the simplicity of Alentian gold and turquoise.

It would take some getting used to the obsidian marble that replaced the driftwood tables and chairs, as well as the ornate detailing of the sun and lightning bolt in black instead of the shimmering hue back home.

Ajax sat with Dimitris and her father at the head of a long table by the dais.

They did not notice her at first, light steps were something she learned at a young age.

You do not want to be clacking about in your shoes.

It is unladylike, Kora would always say.

How Ember missed her mother. A small part of her had thought she would be here, in Aidesian.

That the Binding Laws of the Grechi had somehow faltered and would allow her to travel between non-mortal realms. It was clear that wish would not come to fruition—it would be years before she would be able to look into her mothers eyes again, and fall into her comforting embrace.

On one end of the table lay a spread of food, a cornucopia of berries, pomegranates, loaves of bread. A roasted pig sat on top of a silver platter, not yet cut into. Silver chalices sat by each seat, ornate with rubies and onyx accents.

There were papers and books strewn about the other side, and the three men fumbled through them.

Near her father was some long object, wrapped delicately in black velvet.

A tip of gold stuck out from one end, reflecting even the dim light of the chandeliers.

Her father looked up first as Ember neared the end of the table.

Dimitris then glanced over and smiled softly.

Ajax’s back was still titled toward her in his chair, he was deep in one of the diagrams that lay in front of him.

“You look terrifying, blondie. I like it.” Dimitris smirked, the words dripping off his tongue, looking her up and down with a predatory, yet entrancing gaze. “Don’t you agree, Commander?”

Beside him, Ajax went stiff, turning his head over his shoulder slowly. His eyes locked on Ember’s and his jaw tightened. “Yes. She is quite terrifying when she wants to be.”

Heat crept up her arms, gaze turning to his lips. The lips that ruined her for any other. Her chest tightened, the very air around her unable to fill any part of her. Only his breath could keep her heart beating. As her eyes floated back up to his, his pupils dilated, the rings turning auric.

“Ahem.” Dimitris cleared his throat. “Would you like to sit?” He rose and slid out the chair beside him, slipping his hand to the small of her back.

Nodding, Ember took her seat, shifting uncomfortably on the cold stone at the glare Ajax gave his prince.

The low growl in his throat as Dimitris had touched her.

It reminded her of the look she gave Farah in Alentus as she bantered with the commander.

The green-eyed fate of a person doomed to live alone while the one they cared for looked at another.

But maybe after today, there was hope for them.

Otherwise, the three men were quiet. Exchanging glances back and forth along the low table, each picking at their hands or tapping their feet, returning to the papers that lay before them.

“So what are you all so clearly trying to keep from telling me?” Plucking a few pomegranate seeds from a plate in front of her, Ember arched her brow. “I may be younger than all of you, but I can handle whatever it is you have to say.”

Her father tapped his fingers against the arms of his chair, the other hand grasping the claret wine before him.

“It’s not that simple, Ember. I can not tell you what is happening, I have to show you.

And once I show you”—he pointed to a vial with clear liquid beside the silver chalice—“I will need to forget.”

Ember inhaled a sharp breath. “Father, that’s not—”

“Water from the Lethe, yes.” Aidon tilted his gaze away from her. “It is the only way.”

“But you’ll forget, you’ll forget everything.” Pools began to settle in the rims of Ember’s eyes. He could not drink that. If she had to snatch the vial right from his hand, she would.

“I could never forget my family—not truly. But if it keeps you safe—keeps our people safe—how can I not sacrifice my happiness for theirs?” Aidon replied before scribbling down a few words on the parchment before him.

Why were neither Ajax nor Dimitris fighting him on this? To have a Grechi drink from the Lethe, the river of forgetfulness, was potentially catastrophic. Even more so when that particular god was the terrifying God of Death. Were they not concerned with the repercussions?

“No! You are all mad if you think this is a good idea! What could possibly be so important that you’d need to do this?” Ember slammed her hands down on the table, the boom echoing off the walls of the great hall .

“It is the only thing I can do, Ember.” Her father could not meet her stare.

“I’ve been having blackouts, I will wake up somewhere different from where I should be.

Always in the depths of my dungeons. It’s him, Ember.

Hades. He is growing stronger and he searches—through my mind and through the mazes of Aidesian—for an object that once belonged to him.

Each of the Grechi protects one. A lightning crystal, a trident, a pair of golden wings, a bow, and the serpent’s staff. ”

Aidon unwrapped the long object that had been draped in black velvet. A golden bi-pronged staff lay on the table, snakes twining along each spike, ending in a sharp point where their tongues should be. A shadowed blue glow radiated off the weapon.

“What is that?” Ajax’s nose twitched and he and Dimitris recoiled. Somehow the velvet cover had protected them all from the horrid scent that coated the object. Death. It traveled up their noses, coated their mouths. Rot, decay, maggots, and copper.

Ember’s father gripped her hands across the table.

“It is the one thing that can truly bring him back. It is his relic—the ancient bident of Hades. His power is bound within and it is what allows me to access my own magic—at least that of the underworld. Ember, I need you to take it. Keep it safe. I cannot remember that I had it—that I gave it to you. If he finds it, if it finds its way into the hands of Khalid or Edmund, it can kill me. Truly kill me.”

Her skin was stripped of all color. Nothing was known on this earth that was able to kill a Grechi once they came of age. Wound—yes—but truly wipe from existence? And her father entrusted this demonic artifact to her ?

“But if it can kill you, can it not destroy him as well? Could it not vanquish his spirit or corpse or whatever Khalid and Edmund plan to bring back?” she asked, desperation in each word.

“It is not that simple, Ember. It could kill him, but it is too risky. When I drink this, it will send me into a deep slumber for two days. By then your friend should be healed. I will send word to Nikolaos to meet you on the beaches of Avernia. The blue fire torches will lead you from the palace to the ferry boat. You will be granted passage back to the shore. But please, Ember, promise me that you will hide this. That you will not go after him.”

Ember’s eyes stung with the salty sign of despair, tears streaking down her cheeks. “Father, please,” she begged one more time.

”I’m sorry, angel. I am so sorry.”

Aidoneus Drakos, King of the Underworld, God of Death, raised the vial to his lips and drank.