Page 58 of A Spell of Bones and Madness (Nostos #2)

Chapter Forty-Six

Kohl

T he caves within the mountain, as Kohl learned, were much easier to navigate than the labyrinth he’d imagined.

There were only three center caverns that opened up in the center of the mountain, one of which was where they kept Kora and Aidon bound to golden thrones.

Another was to its left—this was where they kept their other sacrifices caged.

Women hailing from all over the continents and isles lay on stone tables in some sort of stasis, awaiting the death that would come.

To the right was more of a living space than what Kohl would call a cavern, though it lacked the hominess that any castle he’d spent time in provided.

The space was dreary, though it looked like it used to hold bright and grandiose mysteries.

Crimson-stained columns rose from the earth, protruding so far above the hole broken into the mountain that they looked like they touched the sky.

Onyx curtains hung from each rafter along the border of the chamber, the bottoms disintegrating into dust. This is where he was led by a soldier of Cyther, one of the men that had taken him along the jungle’s road at Edmund’s orders in search of the crew of The Nostos mere hours before.

When they entered the cavern, Kohl was told to wait, that his directive would come soon enough, but so far it had only been him alone, consumed by his thoughts.

A snake, just like your father.

Did I not take you in, did I not all but raise you?

What would Katrin think—to know you slaughtered her parents for spite?

Kora’s words echoed in his mind, pulsing like fire, searing nothing but unadulterated pain through his skull.

It wouldn’t go away, the venom in his veins, the unbearable headaches—not since he’d arrived on this gods-forsaken isle.

Was it fear? Was it anger? Was it the loathing feeling of jealousy that drove him to this madness?

Or perhaps it was knowing nothing he did mattered anymore.

If he listened to Hades, if he condoned the slaughter of Katrin’s mother and father, he could never go back.

He could never win her back. Not that it seemed logical that she would ever return, not with that look of pleading and hatred that had glimmered in those amber eyes.

The same eyes that once looked upon him with adoration.

The same eyes that sparkled as she spoke the words he tried to cling to.

Even after the gods take us. A lie. It was always a lie.

If instead he turned against the will of the Olympi, he would surely be killed. By the hand of the wrathful god or his own father. Where was his father? Had he made it here from Morentius or was his father leaving him to fend for himself in this darkened abyss.

This room had no light save a single torch on the opposing side. Leaning against the icy walls, Kohl slid down to the ground, digging his fingers into his head. Why wouldn’t it stop? Why won’t they shut up?

“You can hear them again, can’t you, My King?” a voice came from the otherside of the room. “Can’t you hear them calling to you?”

Kohl lifted his head, but no person stood before him, only a shadowy outline of a figure hid from the single flame. That oily voice he would recognize anywhere. It was the same that echoed in the cavern before, the same that spoke to him in his dreams, whispered to him from the seas. Hades .

“Why? Why can I hear them? Why won’t they stop?” Kohl’s voice cracked as he leaned his head back and tears threatened to release from the constant throbbing of his temples.

Hades moved closer and his body became clearer—one Kohl recognized from long ago.

Those deep black eyes and almond skin. The frigid stare that haunted most mortals.

The only difference from the man in his memories was the crown that lay upon his head.

Instead of golden stars, it bore twining black snakes, two prongs stood in the middle, ending in droplets of rubies.

It was almost as if the two men were twins, yet the grin on the god that appeared before him was nothing like the one he remembered.

It was oddly peaceful as he knelt down to Kohl’s seated height.

“Because, My King, it is what the Fates promised. Did you ever wonder why it was only you who could hear the voices of long ago by the oak? Once thought to be a symbol of my wretched brother. The corrupted myths don’t know what it truly means.”

Cold, dead hands cupped Kohl’s face and his mind flashed to the courtyard in Alentus.

Blue flames lit every leaf and branch of the majestic tree.

Ash sank to the ground, yet the tree did not fall.

A young man knelt in front of it, but Kohl could not make out his face, only the blood that poured from his arms—thick, blackened blood.

Two bodies lay limp at the base of the tree, silken blindfolds wrapped around their eyes, hands bound with golden chains.

A chant began to echo through the courtyard from a single voice.

A language long forgotten, though Kohl knew what was spoken.

Appearing in front of the man was a long, onyx weapon. He gripped it firm in his hand and stood, the black blood circling around the object, winding through the air in a spiral. Power pulsed out from the tree, sending a blinding charge throughout the isle. Then Kohl was back in the cave.

“For the thysía and for your loyalty, you will be repaid,” Hades spoke, his voice in almost a whisper before his shadowy figure disappeared. And then the voices in Kohl’s head stopped and he knew exactly what path he must take.