Page 43 of A Spell of Bones and Madness (Nostos #2)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Ember

T hen we are all doomed . Ember had roiled over those words for hours as she lay on the couch in her chambers.

Why did the Kirassos family love to end on such daunting words?

Giselle had scampered out, running away to what—Ember could only imagine.

It was strange, that her blood had somehow left its mark in such a peculiar way, but were they even sure it was because of her?

Could it not have been Hades while he controlled her father’s mind?

Or maybe the underworld knew its queen was on the verge of returning .

That was it. It most certainly was not Ember. No. Not at all. She would need to speak with the Queen of Nexos, figure out why she was so concerned with something as small as the white flowers. Even if those white flowers had sent an equally uneasy churning to her gut, and a chill down her spine.

At least if she was about to spiral—hear some ungodly reason these flowers would be their demise—she could do so from this bed.

Nothing in this realm, nor any other could compare.

What did Nexos have that nowhere else in existence did?

It felt as if she was sleeping on a cloud, or the very seafoam in the crashing waves that sounded through her open window.

Everything was crisp, light, and airy, much like Alentus, yet better.

Ember sat wrapped in a thick navy blanket, the weave of the knit denser than most she had seen.

A steaming cup of spiced tea sat next to the bed, ready to calm her racing mind as soon as she took a sip.

Light knocking came from the door to her guest chambers. Katrin wasn’t supposed to be visiting now, at least, Ember thought she wouldn’t—most likely still distracted by the dark-haired man who seemed to consume her very being.

“I thought you’d be too distracted by the prince’s bed to visit me—” Ember started, but was met not by the warm smile of her sister, but the curled locks and confused grin of the person she wanted to see the least.

Farah Athanas could have stayed in Alentus for all Ember cared and yet now she stood at her door. Gods, she could punch the traitor. It did not matter that she went with Katrin to rescue Ander—she could not be trusted. None of the Athanas family could.

“Well, that wasn’t the greeting I was expecting.” Farah leaned against the frame of the door, arms crossed tightly across her chest .

“Oh my mistake. I thought someone worthy was at my door.” Ember made to slam the door, but Farah’s hand caught the wooden barrier, shoving it backward.

“Look—I get that you hate me. I would hate me too. I lied to you. I made the man you love lie to you.” Love.

She didn’t love Ajax—at least she wouldn’t admit she did, especially not to this woman.

“I betrayed your trust before I really knew you.

I confused you and made you think there was something between the commander and I.

Because there wasn't, truly. I know what I said when I first saw you on the ship after the attack, but I wish we had told you, let you in on our plan. Spending time with your sister—with the others on The Nostos —I realize that I was quick to judge. Maybe I should have trusted you more.” Farah had somehow snuck her way into the room, now pacing about the living chambers.

No—Ember couldn’t take this. Maybe she had gone with Katrin, but this—this was too much. She was here all of a sudden, apologizing for faking a relationship? For knowing what Ajax meant to her and using it to her advantage? For pretending to be a friend, an ally?

“How dare you come in here and try to apologize. I don’t care what you’ve done to wrap Ajax around your finger, but I don’t believe a word of what you’ve said.

Your brother did the same thing—pretended to be on our side, pretended to care about Katrin and I—and he almost had us killed under the orders of your father!

How do I know you aren’t just feeding our plans back to them? ”

Farah reached for her hand, but Ember recoiled, stomping back toward the other side of the room.

“You don’t. That’s what trust is. I mean it, Ember.

I am sorry. I’ll do what I can to prove it to you.

I am on your side—the side of all of you.

How many times does Ajax have to vouch for me?

Does it mean nothing that the spymaster of Nexos—Nexos that hates Morentius—trusts me enough to be one of his aids?

I would never give up any information to my father. ”

Ember whipped around, clutching her fists so tight, tiny halos on her palms began to bleed.

Something deep in her very soul swirled about like a tempest ready to strike.

Her blood boiled under her skin, causing a slight sheen of sweat to coat her neck and brows.

“Would you not? You betray your flesh and blood for what? I know how loyalty works in your family, even you are not foolish enough to betray them.”

“My father is a vile man and my brother is spineless. Those are both things we can agree on. I helped them rescue Ander, I helped distract Kohl. For gods’ sakes, I knocked out my own brother, potentially killed him! Is that enough proof for you? I am not on their side and I never will be.”

Ember walked toward the door. She needed to be out of this traitor's sight, even if it meant leaving her own room.

“It is not enough proof for me! I trusted Kohl, Katrin trusted Kohl, and look where that got us! Staying here in Nexos, of all places. I lost my home, my position, a man who was like a father to me—all because of your family!”

Farah slammed her fist into an opposing wall, stone cracking beneath.

“I lost someone too! Did you ever think to ask that?” Blackness crept through Farah’s veins as she seethed across the room.

Ember had never seen such a thing before.

Her heart began to pound in her chest, the thump thump thumping echoing in her ears .

“What is going on in here?” Ajax burst through the door, sweat lacing his brows, sword in hand. The commander rushed over to Farah, stroking her hair, clasping his palm over her own. “Shhh. Just breathe.”

“Of course you run to her first,” Ember spat, spinning on her heels and heading for the door, and although she said the words, she could not blame Ajax for his reaction.

The way he reacted did not appear to be out of lust, but rather akin to the relationship the crew of The Nostos showed each other. A familial sort of love.

Had she not provoked the princess into whatever spiral caused the blackness now beneath Farah’s skin?

It wasn’t as if she ever asked Farah to explain why she turned on her family—why she became a spy for Nexos.

Gods, how many times had men in Alentus questioned her resolve or her position without asking if becoming Prytan was what she really wanted, if she thought she could uphold the honor.

Was what she was doing to Farah—this oversight and immediate judgement—not the same?

“Ember, stop—” Ajax’s voice hung thick in the air, but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t. She needed to get out of this castle. Needed to be alone. Needed some quiet to decide if she was the one who had been wrong all this time.

And most of all, she needed to hit something.

Ember had traipsed down the winding hall, still brushing dirt from her clothes.

In her bout of fury and frustration, she had found Leighton at the training gymnasium and welcomed the sparring partner.

The nauarch, in between handing her her ass multiple times, had proved to be an empathic listener and a wise advisor.

You can punch me , he had told her, I always find the best way to calm my—how do I put this kindly—antics is to punch something or someone.

Preferably not the someone I seem to be angered about.

She had laughed, momentarily easing that hot-headed rage.

Going blow for blow with her, Leighton never asked why exactly she stormed into the room in a frenzy, who had made her feel this way.

He was always so level headed and that was exactly what she needed in the moment.

Someone to explain that she was not crazy, but also that she should give the southern princess a bit of grace.

Apparently, several times she could have outed their mission to rescue Ander and each one she instead proved her loyalty beyond a doubt.

Perhaps an apology was in order—eventually.

At the end of the hall, a floor-to-ceiling painting stopped her in her tracks.

There was no mistaking the lush green trees of the Nexian Wood painted on the mural before her.

Its robust greenery and intricate red flowers, Ember did not recognize, their petals short and curling in at the tips.

But it was not the delicate flowers that had her tracing each line on the wall.

It was the humming in her ears, a melody she barely remembered, and the woman who knelt in the painting, braid cascading over her shoulder, picking the flowers from the clearing in the wood.

In the corner, a wolf stalked her from behind the brush, its eyes darkened the color of tree bark around it, lip ticked up in a snarl.

Each stroke of the scene seemed familiar. A dream she’d had? A replication of a painting in Alentus? It was dizzying, scouring her mind to try to find where she knew this from. Stars began to twinkle in her eyes, a pounding in her temple making Ember collapse to her knees.

“Please make sure to head back home before the sun begins to set,” her mother’s voice rang from the archway to the courtyard. Olive vines twirled up each side of the arch, meeting in the middle with a white flower, crimson dust, filtering out from its center.

“I won’t!” the girl yelled back, picking up her flowing blue dress and racing out through the gates toward the forest beyond, basket in hand.

It was her favorite part of the day, roaming through the darkened wood, breathing in the crisp pine air around her.

Weaving in and out through the dirt trails all the way to the lake at the center of the forest. She would spend time there, picking flowers to take home to build crowns and bouquets for the servants in the castle.

They deserved the same level of beauty that the royal family was gifted.

It was not of their own doing that they were born into lower families than her.

Today was no different. The summer air caressed her skin as she wandered around the lake, picking each flower and inspecting it to make sure it was perfect for today’s crafts.

As she approached her favorite clearing, blood-red peonies scattered about at her feet, she knelt in the midst of them, bringing one to her nose and inhaling its scent into her very lungs. The pollen from the center tickled.

The healers would be grateful when she brought back a whole basketful of the delicate flower—and she would be grateful for the herbal concoction they brewed with it.

Their tea was the only thing that seemed to ease her sister’s nightmares, which had grown worse and worse over the last month.

Maybe, if she collected enough, they would finally allow her sister to leave her room and come out to explore the woods alongside her.

It had been so long since she was allowed past the barred windows and doors, for fear of what she might do to herself—to those around her.

Rustling leaves in the brush had the girl scanning the perimeter.

Usually she was the only one who ventured this deep into the forest. A shadowed figure lay crouched behind a wall of stones, lurking just beyond, following her every movement.

The predator’s golden brown eyes glistened, even in the daytime, and its white canines flashed equally as bright as it let out a low growl.

Deep green trees scraped against the girl as she ran into the thicket.

She was fast, but not fast enough that she could out run him.

Her strawberry locks glistened in the sunlight, flowing backward in a loose braid.

Her mother never made her tie it back like her father suggested.

Yes, it would be easier to not have her hair in her face, but she loved the way it whipped around her with the flow of the breeze.

Pounding steps and snapping twigs came from behind.

It would only be moments now, before he caught her.

Before their game would end. She had reached the end of the woods, the lake laying in front of her.

Should she wade in? Would he follow? Turning to face him, the wolf stared back at her, but this time, bow and arrow in hand, she was ready for him.

She pulled the arrow back and let it fly straight at the wolf’s heart.

Ember fell backward, her hand breaking contact from the mural on the wall.

The pounding in her head began to reside, her vision and breathing regulating.

What kind of magic laced these halls? It had seemed so real, the visions around her, though now she could not remember exactly what they were.

Standing, Ember turned back toward the hall to her room, but the only thing that remained in her head was that humming melody.