Page 4 of Queen to the Sunless Court (Brides of Myth #2)
Between Realms
Calliste
Calliste exhaled, her gaze refocusing on the crown of the tree high above her—magical and dreamy, with iridescent, smooth bark and branches dotted with those opalescent white blossoms. Their petals floated down, each shimmering on its bright journey.
She took a moment to track one of them while her mind settled after visiting the mortal realm, where she’d floated in the corner of her chamber as an unseen observer.
It had been odd to see her own body being sewn up, but she could only applaud the neat job Panakeios had done. Watching the level of mastery he’d displayed, she could tell he was unmatched in his class and couldn’t help but respect him for it.
What had solidified her respect was his confession to Theron. Although it had felt strange to eavesdrop on their conversation, it was also liberating. She’d been able to scrutinize each face for clues, and some of them had surprised her.
When Panakeios had spoken about his inability to save the queen, her heart had twisted, recognizing the agony in his voice so well.
But the tormented expression that had crossed Theron’s features as Panakeios spoke about the death of his wife gave her a pause.
She had seen it often enough. Pain, she could understand. But guilt?
What do you feel guilty about, Theron?
Then, everyone had left: the exhausted Panakeios, wary Lykos, quiet Gaiane. But Theron had stayed behind, solitary and wrapped in soft shadows.
An invisible force had pulled her back to the Underworld, but not before she saw him snuggling close to her. Gods, Theron. I wish…
She wished she could have embraced him. And then she remembered him kissing her against the wall of jasmine, his thirst evident on his hot, dominant mouth. She regretted not insisting on more among the jasmine and candlelight.
Then she was back in the stillness of the Underworld, among the roots of her own tree. Her chest didn’t feel icy anymore. She lifted her tunic to discover a silvery scar above her heart. Another addition to the collection.
Thanatos was sitting in the silver grass a few paces away, rising as she stood. “I’m glad you made it, Calliste.”
A small smile crept onto her face. “Not half as glad as I am.”
“No doubt,” Death sounded amused. “Hades will be pleased, too.”
“Pleased… how?”
“He wants to chat with you.”
She swallowed. “Does that bode well for mortals?”
“Not as a rule, but you have nothing to fear, Calliste.” He gestured for her to walk beside him.
“Whatever happened in the Roots has gone too far. Hades has questions, and he wants to hear about everything directly from you. He’s waiting for you at his court, on the other side of Styx. I’d carry you, but unfortunately…”
“Your touch is death.”
“Precisely. So I’ll accompany you to the shore of Styx. My brother will be there to fly you across the waters.”
“Hypnos?” she asked hesitantly, remembering the cage shooting up from underneath the flowers, taking him by surprise. “Is he unharmed? He was trapped—”
“Later, Calliste.” Thanatos raised his hand. “Hades wants to see him too and hear both accounts.”
Images from the Roots began to emerge from the haze of her mind, elusive like a distant dream.
She glanced down at her translucent pendant.
There were many things she should worry about, yet they felt distant, like the faint hum of the sea in a shell held to the ear.
Perhaps it was the effect of staying in the Underworld.
“I’m glad you heard me calling from the Roots.
If you hadn’t…” She shuddered. I’d be dead .
“I heard you and sensed my brother’s muted presence, but I couldn’t fully grasp what was happening, except that you were both in danger.
Since you were more vulnerable than my brother, I rushed to the mortal realm to find your king and instructed him to wake you up.
” He ran his hand through his hair, troubled.
“But it took me too long. You could have perished if Epione hadn’t intervened to save you. ”
That powerful, soothing, sweet presence. Calliste touched her chest again where her new scar still tingled. “She saved my life.” Again .
“She did more than that.”
Calliste glanced up, avoiding his eyes but waiting for more. When nothing followed, she prompted, “Did she?”
“Yes. You’ll see.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Would it kill you to elaborate?” To her surprise, he smiled again.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Come.”
***
Soon, they arrived at the shore of Styx, gleaming with fine, silvery sand. Thick shrouds of mists rising from the river obscured whatever lay on the opposite shore.
She watched them shifting, recalling Hypnos’ deranged fall. “Thanatos?” She hesitated, but then continued. “What would happen if someone fell into Styx?”
He considered before replying. “Why? Are you worried my brother might accidentally drop you?”
It was a small blessing that she wasn’t supposed to meet his eyes. “Curiosity.”
“Styx isn’t called the River of Hate for nothing. A mortal wouldn’t survive falling into her. As for one of us, I can’t guess, but it would likely be excruciating, and I’d rather not dwell on it. Only Charon is immune to its poison.”
Calliste rubbed her arms, smoothing down the goosebumps as she recalled Hypnos' firm grip while he’d plunged toward Styx. So he might have inadvertently killed me—
“When my brother arrives, he won't discuss anything that happened in the Roots with you. Hades’ orders—he wants your account of the events,” he said, lowering his voice.
“But whatever happened there, my brother didn't take it well. He was shaken after reconciling with his body...” His gaze lifted to the impenetrable mists. “He’s coming. I’ll see you at Hades’ court.
” In an instant, he was airborne, his majestic wings inky and gleaming against the graphite haze cloaking the deadly river of the Underworld.
He hovered for a moment, waiting until another winged god emerged from the mist, golden-haired and crowned with rubies.
For a moment, Death and Dream regarded each other, their powerful wings stirring the mists around them. Then Thanatos flew away, soon vanishing from sight.
Before long, the scent of green apples thickened in the air as Hypnos landed before her.