Page 13 of Death of the Glass Angel (Apotheosis #1)

Janus

For the last time, Alfaris does not appreciate when you diminish his talents down to fortune telling. For star’s sake, we never even got him to wear that silly veil.

-Private letter from Gemellus Instigo to Professor Aevus

Janus awoke in a daze, hair wild, and a pillow covering her face. As her vision cleared, she first noticed a stuffed dragon on the nightstand staring at her before registering Raja standing over her, arms crossed.

What an awful feeling. Janus felt like she had lain down for a two-hour nap and instead awoke a week later.

Sitting upright, Janus accidentally flung her pillow off the bed, narrowly missing her maid. “Raja! Good morning.”

“You’re late.” Raja snapped, flinging something at Janus.

Janus caught the bundle of cloth clumsily. “Late for what?”

“Your hike.” Raja stormed away.

The door slammed. A hike? Janus hopped on one leg, pulling on her trousers and kurta. She wiggled into the beaded collar Raja had laid out and hurried out the door.

Talon stood outside her chambers, coat draped over his arm. “Morning. . .” He trailed off, gaze drifting to her hair.

“Hey,” Janus said, wringing her hair into a bun. “There’s a hike? Who’s going?”

Talon’s eyes widened in surprise before quickly sharpening. “Felsin invited you on a hike. You said yes.”

“I did?” Janus rubbed the sleep from her eyes. What happened? Last she could recall, they had only just arrived in the city. If she concentrated, she could vaguely remember a fancy ballroom and a frigid night, but. . .

Oh, no. It happened again.

Talon straightened her hair, sweeping a loose bang behind an ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek. “Calm down. It’s just a walk through beautiful mountains. You’ll like it.”

Frozen, Janus watched his hand slide off her face.

A man had just swept her hair behind her ear. She’d dreamed of that sort of thing happening for years.

Heat rushed through her cheeks. She stared at him, trying to figure out what to say.

A humored smile touched Talon’s lips. “You should hurry. Kalid’s waiting outside.”

Stepping around him awkwardly, Janus slammed into a decorative pillar. Rubbing her nose, she flew out the door.

“There she is,” Kalid said fondly. “The Altanese don’t appreciate fashionably late.” He joined her side, escorting her. . .

Somewhere.

Janus followed her guard, resisting the urge to ask for details. She hated the look people gave her when, in their eyes, she was acting like a forgetful ditz. Something an evoker could not be, though few stopped to consider that.

Gemellus was the only soul who treated her with patience. He’d calmly explain, no matter how many times she asked, no matter how many days she’d forgotten.

Janus wished her mentor were here right about now. Having such a talented evoker at her side would assuage all of her fears.

Kalid brought Janus outside the city, though not through the main gates. Trees grew thick around the stone roads, and grass poked between the rocks. A colorful crowd gathered around a troupe of horses and hunting hounds, with nary a familiar face among them.

A blonde woman approached, dressed in full armor with a blue surcoat overtop. She bowed, braid swinging over her shoulder. “Lady Janus. So glad you could join us. I was worried you’d miss the festivities.”

Janus stared at the woman, wondering who she was and how they’d met. “The festivities?”

Another stranger approached, and everyone else might as well have disappeared.

Janus recalled telling Talon cefra were pretty, but too slim for her tastes. At least one of their kind was tall with broad shoulders, and had soft, black waves and entrancing, golden eyes smudged with black kohl, and. . .

And though it was freezing out here, his loose tunic was undone to reveal his well-muscled chest.

He smiled at Janus like they’d met before. Oh, gods, she hoped she hadn’t said anything embarrassing.

“We’re not going, Avalon.” He said. “Just heading out at the same time.”

“That’s a shame.” The woman frowned. “I’d rather die than miss an Altanese hunt.”

Names drifted at the back of Janus’ mind. Avalon. Felsin. She had met them before, but the memory was hazy.

A booming voice interrupted her thoughts. “The honored guest arrives!” A broad man in a yellow kilt trudged to her side and clapped her back hard enough to send her sprawling. “Are you sure you want to sit this one out?”

Yellow kilt, commanding voice. Janus could surmise this was the Kahn Chief.

“I’m sure.” She stood on her tiptoes to meet his eyes.

“Maybe you’ll be back in time to see our war prizes.” The Kahn Chief winked at her with another heavy clap on her shoulder.

“Enjoy your ride.” Avalon bowed and walked away with the chief.

“We can set out once they funnel out,” Felsin nodded at the cluster of hunters, “But there’s something I need to get before we leave.”

* * *

When the handsome prince of Altanbern left to retrieve a forgotten item, Janus had not been expecting a cat.

A rather strange-looking cat. One of its big, black eyes drifted lazily off to one side. A veritable orb of white fur, the cat’s general shape could be summed up as a ball with legs.

The tiny, fluffy white cat slept soundly in Felsin’s bag, ears sticking out of the flaps.

“Is there a particular reason you needed the cat?” Janus asked, stepping over a rock.

“Sors goes with me everywhere,” Felsin explained. “He’s. . . not an ordinary cat.”

Wondering if Felsin was pulling her leg, Janus reached over and ruffled the cat’s ears. Eros had always wanted a pet. He probably would have loved this little cat.

Throat suddenly dry, Janus swallowed and stared at the woodline. She had trouble keeping eye contact with Felsin, partly because of how vibrant his eyes were, and partly because of his half-open shirt.

Gods, but this place was gorgeous. Snow-powdered mountains loomed all around them, and trees grew in thick, deep green clusters. A well-traveled path carried them up and around one of the mountains.

Shouting and pounding hooves sounded below as the hunting party rode through the valley. Janus peered over the edge, watching the colorful tabards of the noble party pass beneath them.

“You mentioned something I’d like,” Janus said. “What?”

“It’s a surprise,” Felsin replied.

Glancing behind her, Janus could see the distant shapes of her guards watching them. She really wished she didn’t have to take them everywhere, but wasn’t so stupid as to run off alone when assassins hunted her.

Her boot rammed into an uneven stone, and she tripped up the mountain. Felsin caught her arm, steadying her. “You alright?”

“Oh, yeah.” She chuckled. “Happens all the time.” Noticing a strange tattoo on his arm, she tilted her head. “What’s that?”

“This?” Pulling up his sleeve, Felsin revealed a fascinating image. A great winged being, trapped within an intricate frame, its eyes covered with a cloth. “I suppose someone was going to bring it up sooner or later.” He looked at her seriously. “I’m a fortune teller.”

Janus ducked under a low branch. “Really?”

“No, but that’s what Avalon, my brother. . . really anyone will tell you. They think it’s hilarious.” He rolled his eyes. “I read the stars and their cards. This one,” He pointed to the tattoo, “is my favorite.”

“What does it mean?”

“Fulfillment. Purpose.” He said. “I don’t draw it very often.”

Struggling up a steep slope, Janus’ breath emerged strained. “Can you tell my fortune?”

“I don’t see why not.” He chuckled. “It might not be as exciting as you’re imagining.”

“I’m imagining a crystal ball and candles in low lighting. Some Athelstani performers toss carved rat bones.”

“And they wear thick makeup and a veil?” Felsin traced the black liner running around his eyes. “Halfway there.”

Bewitched by his smile, Janus looked back at the treeline.

In his youth, Evander had complained that ‘talking to women was difficult.’ But didn’t men realize talking to them was just as daunting?

White mist seeped from the forest and rushed down the mountain, rolling across Janus’ boots like flowing water. Fear shot through Janus as she tried to back out of it. But the sudden mist moved as quickly as it arrived and engulfed the path.

Panic rose in her throat. Grabbing at it, Janus’s breath came quicker as she fought off a panic attack.

Felsin grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down until they both kneeled. “Sh.” He said quietly. “It’s alright.”

Janus stared at the mist, entranced.

“Mist like this is common here,” Felsin said softly. “Whatever rumors you’ve heard, it’s perfectly safe.”

The rumors Janus had heard could frighten the stoutest of men. Ghosts walked the world of Altanbern, they said, seeking the demise of their murderers.

Would Eros appear within? Would he point to his killer and condemn her?

“Comforting, even.” Felsin continued. “Your ancestors and loved ones watch over you.”

“I’d rather they didn’t,” Janus said quietly.

“Why not?”

As abruptly as it had arrived, the mist dispelled, rolling off the cliffside and tumbling down the mountain. Touching her back, Felsin helped her to her feet, hands lingering on her arms.

“Always kneel.” He said. “The ancestors are harmless so long as you show respect.” When he noticed her face, he lowered his voice. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” Janus nodded.

Felsin stared at her intently before stepping away. Pulling the cat from his bag, he handed the ball of fur to Janus. “Why don’t you carry Sors?”

Without thinking, Janus hugged the warm creature tightly and buried her face in its fur. When she looked back up, Felsin was smiling at her.

“Come on,” He said, “What’s awaiting us will cheer you up.”

Thankfully, he chose not to pursue the matter. Janus cradled the cat as they ascended the final leg of the hike. The trees thickened as they reached the mountain’s peak, leaving only a single spot where a clearing overlooked the valley.

Janus had once thought nothing stood taller than the peak of the Valerian tower. Evidently not.

Felsin nudged her. “Look there.”