Page 42 of A Spell of Bones and Madness (Nostos #2)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Kohl

W ind howled from the east, stirring a tempest below the hull of The Hydra .

Rain had poured for days, thunder cracking overhead, lightning sparking in the near distance.

They could not have picked a worse time to sail to this mysterious isle of Cyther.

A few months ago, Kohl would have said it was impossible to sail between realms, but he had traveled over the seas to Skiatha, so why should it surprise him that they could make their way to another lost isle by ship.

However, it seemed the Grechi were working against them, threatening their course.

Sailing into the wind put them behind several days.

The captain had to tack the ship back and forth, sails pulled in tightly to make any headway.

Men who lived on the seas still ran to the rails of the ship, skin tinged green as they hurled the contents of their stomach into the treacherous abyss below.

Kohl couldn’t help but wonder if this was all his fault.

The raging sea and foul weather a stark reminder that he fucked up.

The gods were angered—punishing him for letting Alexander slip through his fingers.

At least one god in particular. He would not have worked.

The voice in his head only got louder with each day, each mile they crossed closer to Cyther.

He was not the one I needed. Those words came to him everytime he let his mind wander, let the brand on his palm glow a blackened hue.

It was the least he could do, relinquish some of his sanity to the Olympi he now would serve—by his choice or not. Maybe then his thoughts would quiet. That voice would quiet. Although, by the will of the Fates he probably would not be so lucky.

The compass that wretched man, Dolion, had given Kohl was tucked safely away in his pocket.

It did not seem that they needed it to travel past the veil to Cyther, his father and Edmund possessing whatever kind of magic one would need to pierce that ward, hidden from mortals, tucked away for centuries.

Would it be like the journey to Skiatha—seemingly nothing for miles and then another world would just appear before their eyes?

Would there be people waiting for them—acolytes to greet those loyal to the true God of Death?

These were all questions Kohl’s father refused to acknowledge before they set sail and Khalid disappeared back to Mornetius.

The king was still bitter that his son let a woman best him.

Two women to be exact. His sister and his wife—if he could even call Aikaterine that.

How the tables had turned. Even after the gods take us meant nothing to her.

After all Kohl had done for her, the empty vow stung worse than a sword to the heart.

His father had been right, she would take everything from them, would protect her kind above all—protect Alexander.

It gutted him that she would trust—would love—a man she knew mere months over him, someone she knew her entire life.

Maybe he had her under some sort of spell, some mind-control of sorts.

If Kohl truly was rewarded by helping to resurrect Hades, perhaps he could break that spell, get his real Aikaterine back.

It must be that. It had to be. There was no other explanation for the sudden change in affection.

He would save her, once he had more power.

Once he was strong enough to kill a god.

No one took what was his, especially his wife.

His whole body heated at the thought—finally being able to rid the world of Alexander, what a beautiful thing it would be.

Drops of freezing rain fell and tempered their way down Kohl’s arms, puckering into steam as they hit his scorching skin, the black veins below slowly retreating back to their normal blue-green hue.

A brief moment of relief from the voices.

Eventually the storm would end, they would enter the land of the Olympi.

Kohl only hoped that it was warmer there.

The icy chill of late autumn was upon them, which meant winter was fast approaching, and Kohl hated winter.

In Morentius it was much more temperate than the northern isles, and although he experienced slightly colder temperatures in Alentus, he never got used to the bite of the air against his skin.

A pale palm gripped his shoulder, startling him from his swirling thoughts.

“It is time for you to come inside, Kohl. We will be approaching Cyther soon, and there is much to brief you on beforehand. He has spoken to me, and has told me what is necessary of you.” Edmund’s blonde hair whipped around his face.

“You will be a great asset to the cause.”