Page 37 of A Spell of Bones and Madness (Nostos #2)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Katrin

K atrin slumped in her chair, fiddling with her hair and her nails and the leather strapped around her waist. It had been two days back on The Nostos and still Ander was not healed.

Those gods-damned shackles on his wrists would not stop thrumming, sucking his very being from him.

Not even Katrin’s concentrated power could break the seal that bound them tightly to his bones.

She wanted to be rid of them, for his sake but also her own.

Katrin could hear it, the screams of those forgotten to the world.

Could hear everything he did. There was no power left for him to stop it, to shield her from the noises that scratched at his soul.

It would come in waves, a tingle first at the base of her neck, working her way up and causing a thin film of sweat to bead along her skin.

It was unusual still, that unwilling connection they had, two minds becoming one.

She wondered if that was how Mykonos and Thalia felt every day, each splinter, every shell they stepped on, every emotion all at once amplified by some ungodly power.

Or perhaps it was a godly power—something passed down to them by the Olympi.

But which Olympi would it be? Had it come from the sea god?

Or did all who were Fated have this keen ability?

Ander was no help, not that she would have asked him to sacrifice a single other thing—not even his time. He needed the rest, to save his energy as best he could.

A fever had struck the first night they were back aboard The Nostos and he had mostly drifted in and out of sleep.

When he would wake, Katrin would ply him with water and broth, small bits of fish to not make him sick, and a tonic Cal concocted that was supposed to speed the healing process.

When he would drift off, she’d check his bandages, wiping the sweat from his skin with a cool cloth, watching to make sure he didn’t fade away or stop breathing.

All things he had done for her. All things she would now do day after day, as long as it took.

When they returned to Nexos, she would need to question Nikolaos on how to get those wretched cuffs off.

There had to be some way—some power—that could destroy them.

Ander had escaped their hold once, though he told her he could not remember how.

Maybe Hades simply willed it that way, a scapegoat so his loyal minions could infiltrate Alentus. Infiltrate through her.

That thought swallowed her whole. The reason the Alentian people were in danger, the reason her sister had to flee.

Iason. His death was on her and Katrin would do everything she could, give every piece of her power and strength to make sure that loss was not in vain.

Hades would not return. Not while air still pumped through her lungs and blood filled her veins.

But to do that they would need more information—at least, more than the fragments they pieced together now. It would only be a few more days, gods will it. The seas were calm even though the wind whipped them swiftly toward the east.

Katrin inched closer to a sleeping Ander, running her finger tips along his exposed arm, tracing over the scars he’d gained.

She noticed how some were turning a pinkish hue, the skin rough and sturdy, much like the noticeable markings on her own body.

It was still a mystery why some of the scars would sink away back into their skin, while others left such a permanent reminder of the torture they endured.

Was it the Fates’ will to keep them humble?

To know even a god-born could be marked? She may never know.

“You’ll be home soon, Ander. Home at last,” Katrin whispered before she lay her head next to his.

She would not sleep—not until she knew he was alright—but for now, being in his quarters with the lull of howling winds and slapping waves against the hull, Katrin’s heart felt lighter.

A still sea broke in front of The Nostos as they entered the crystal water surrounding Nexos.

Cal had monitored Ander’s state in the last week they’d sailed toward Ander’s home, determining he healed as much as any man, god-born or mortal, would with the power-sucking shackles.

For the first few days, Katrin had been hopeful.

Cal was the God of Craft, afterall. If he could create the most complex objects from thin air he could surely break the manacles off of Ander.

Cal tried everything he knew to break the hold they had on his nephew, but much to Katrin’s dismay, his tricks did not work. Power was not the answer.

Katrin led Ander up to the deck of the ship for the first time since he’d returned, hoping the sunlight and crisp breeze would help him—or, at the very least, distract him.

She thought back to her first days on The Nostos where the only semblance of peace and safety she could feel was on this deck, staring off into the abyss of the sea.

Gulls squawked overhead, a sign they were approaching land, though no sandy shores appeared on the horizon.

“Are you nervous? About being home after all this time?” Katrin asked.

“I’m not sure. I’ve told you my father and I never saw eye to eye, and that night—when I came for you—he tried to stop me.”

Katrin’s eyes widened for just a moment.

Ander had never told her that. Gods, no wonder Nikolaos seemed so reluctant to help her.

Katrin knew she was the reason he wasn’t allowed to return home by the curse, but to learn he went against his father’s wishes—that he’d defied another god and still Nikolaos gave them shelter, gave them supplies.

“I’m sure he has forgiven you.” Katrin clutched her hand around Ander’s, giving a soft squeeze, careful not to touch the gold that still encased his wrists.

“You may have met my father, Starling, but no one can guess what goes through that man’s mind, not even my mother.” He looked over toward her, meeting her gaze for the first time in days, but no spark lingered, only a sea of gray and muted blue.

Putting her arm around Ander’s waist, Katrin led him to the old wine barrel she’d spent so much time on when she was first aboard The Nostos , letting him sit and stare out into the crystalline abyss before them.

It was healing—at least that was what Ander had told her months before.

Watching the sea creatures below the wake or the way the stars would flicker in dusk, preparing the beauty that is the night sky above was uniquely perfect in her mind.

Now she could be the one to calm the twitch of his hand or flinch of his jaw when someone was near.

Breathe , she thought, all he has to do is breathe.

“He is still your father, Ander. If he went to lengths to try and stop you from rescuing me it means that he cares about you. He knew what consequences there would be by defying the Fates. He was trying to protect you.” She wiped his hair from his brow, cupping his cheek in her palm.

“That kind of love does not fade over time.”

“Maybe not,” he sighed, shoulders slumping.

“Trust me. I could see it in his eyes when I first met him. The look he gave your mother, gave me when I said I would stop at nothing until you were back on his shores. He tried to hide it, act fierce—I mean, he is almost as terrifying a Grechi as my father after all—but it was the same look you give me when you talk about your sister. That is love. Pure, unfiltered love.”

Ander laughed, a small one at that, but a laugh nevertheless. “Yes, well, we will see.” He rubbed at the space above his heart, eyes squeezed shut. “I haven’t thought about returning home in years. Never thought it would be possible. ”

“Because you did not think I would fall in love with you?”

“Is it so hard to believe that someone so broken wouldn’t think they deserve love?” His words were soft, yet intentionally chosen.

A pang hit straight through her chest. Had she not told him as much that day she left The Nostos ? How wrong she was. Regret seared through her. “No—but I am broken too, yet you love me anyway.”

Opening his eyes, Ander flashed that smirk of his, fighting to smile through the pain. “So you admit it then? You love me.”

“Oh, I see. This was all a ruse to get me to say it out loud.” Katrin leaned in to brush a kiss on his lips. It was the first time she had done so since she found him in the dungeons, afraid even the smallest unneeded touch would hurt him.

Clashing of metal followed by angry screams instantly drew their attention away from their brief moment of peace.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Farah yelled as the other piercing noise stopped. The princess flew across the deck, hands clenched in tight fists.

The southern princess stomped up to the foredeck and tendrils of black smoke singed the ground she walked over, leaving chars in the wood in her wake. She was too far away for Katrin to stop her. Katrin could only watch as Farah raged toward the two culprits of the raucous.

“Me!” Chloe yelled back. “And what exactly am I doing now that is so inconvenient for you?”

“Your arm was just crushed and you’re up here training like a gods-damned fool! And you,” Farah turned, pointing her finger at Leighton, jabbing it into his chest, “why are you encouraging this? ”

Leighton could only shrug, a smug smile on his lips and Katrin couldn’t help the snicker that slipped from her mouth.

“He is not encouraging anything, Farah, I asked him. I was bored! It’s insufferable being aboard this ship for so long. Plus, I was only using my left arm.” Chloe rolled her eyes, sheathing her sword behind her back.

Katrin understood the young girl’s frustration. It had taken every ounce of her poise and about half of Ander’s bookshelf to keep her occupied.

“You know what’s insufferable? You! You think everything will be perfect and roses. No—you don’t think at all!” Now Farah was beside Chloe, so close to her their noses might touch, but then she turned and stormed back below deck, leaving another trail of black smoke in her wake.

Ander turned toward Katrin once more, his brows perked up. “What is going on with those two?” he asked.

“Only the Fates know,” Katrin chuckled.

“Oh no, you don’t get to do this. Please tell me something good? I miss Thalia’s gossip.”

Katrin missed her gossip too. And Mykonos.

“She is the best for secrets. Let me see,” Katrin tapped her finger to her lips. “Your sister has informed me that those romance books in your quarters are indeed yours , not one of the ladies’.”

“Ah, I see you’ve caught me,” Ander said, clutching his heart. “They are just so entertaining.”

“That they are.” Katrin winked.

It was only seconds of laughter, of peace, but it was enough—at least for now.

The crew lingered on the deck, Ander was able to walk with Katrin and Chloe’s aid, spending this final day at sea staring aimlessly out across the water.

Nearing the shore, Farah and Chloe stood on the deck, each peering through a scope to see if guards were posted to bring rafts to collect them.

A cloud of blackness began to swirl on the deck.

“Farah! Behind you!” Leighton called from behind the wheel.

The princess whipped around and Katrin clenched Ander’s arm, but he only sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s just my father. He always likes to make an entrance. Don’t you, Nikolaos?”

“Welcome home, son,” the king said, his hand clenched in a fist above his heart.

“It is good to have you back.” A single tear dripped down the gruff and fearful god’s cheek.

Rarely had Katrin known a god to cry, at least one as stoic and treacherous as the God of Sea and Shadow, but only relief and an unnerving warmth cascaded over Nikolaos.

“It is good to be back, even if just for a brief time.” Ander tried to push up from the barrel he sat on, legs shaking as Katrin caught him under one of his arms.

“Don’t move so fast, you’ll—” Katrin stumbled on the words.

He’d hurt himself? How much more could this man hurt?

A little fall was probably nothing on the scale of what he’d endured.

She had hated when people treated her like such a delicate creature after she was taken, and yet that was exactly what she was doing.

“If you thought you were bad at asking for help, Starling, I am infinitely worse.” The corner of Ander’s lip twitched up before he turned toward Nikolaos. “So am I forgiven now, Father? For leaving all those years ago?”

King Nikolaos waved his hand as shadows once again flew from his palm. “Forgiveness was never our issue.”