Page 23

“What is this?”

“An aqueduct. You said Altanus is having issues with the water being tainted. If you build this on a slight angle, you can funnel the water from the mountains directly to the city. Or all over Aureum, if you prefer.”

“And this semi-circle?” he pressed.

“It’s an arch. It distributes the weight of the topmost section more easily. It shouldn’t take too long for your engineers to figure it out. Now, are we done?”

He looked from her drawing to her, and she knew the answer. A new light dawned in his eyes, covetous and determined. Good Goddesses, she’d made another mistake. Aurora backed up, her heart racing. Those weren’t the eyes of a man who was satisfied with his spoils. They were the eyes of a predator tasting blood for the first time.

“Do you know what this knowledge is worth?” he asked quietly.

“More than what I owed you for healing me.” Aurora glared at him. “My debt is paid.”

“And now I am indebted to you.” He advanced on her again.

“Then let me leave in peace.” She backed up.

“No.”

“I thought you were a man of honour!”

He held up a hand.

“Allow me to secure you safe passage. I am not without resources, even here.”

“This is just your attempt to slow me down,” she accused him. This was all just another trick of his.

“This is my attempt to ensure your safety. A lone traveller is an easy target. Especially one who doesn’t know their way.”

“I can find my way just fine,” she lied.

She only had to follow the Queen’s Road to the Colonnades. From there, he’d shown her the way to Altanus, where High Priestess Myrina would be. But she’d never travelled those roads without assistance. Certainly not with only a few baubles and a prayer that they would be enough to pay for food along the way, to make no mention of lodging.

“Oh? With what map? I’ve not seen one among your possessions.”

She bit her tongue, preferring instead to glare. That secret was something she had no intention of divulging.

“No doubt you’ll decide that a map will cost me my freedom. I’m not interested.”

That’s who he was. If she accepted his aid now, she would soon find her debts impossible to repay.

“Let me help you.”

“You don’t want to help me, you want to control me!”

He laughed, pushing his hair from his face, his smile as beautiful as it was dangerous.

“Oh, Aurora, I have a feeling that under the right conditions, you would very much enjoy being controlled by me.”

Her breath caught. Blood rushed to her face in earnest then. Her heart crashed against her ribs. No one knew those dark desires. How dare he speak them aloud? How dare he assume he was someone she would trust with that? This arrogant pig. He closed the distance between them again.

“When was the last time you truly surrendered yourself to someone who could handle you?”

Aurora swallowed thickly. Triad preserve her, this man was dangerous for her.

“Surrender requires trust. And you’ve proved you’re unworthy of mine.” She raised her chin and glared, even though all she wanted to do was run. Were her fists trembling, or was that merely her heart pumping so hard she could feel the thrum under her skin?

“You are utterly maddening,” he scoffed.

“As are you,” she spat back.

“You stand there with the confidence of a monarch and treat my offers of aid as tainted. Where do you fit all that pride?” He asked, smiling genuinely, as if being thwarted were his favourite pastime.

Aurora sighed, pushing down her jitters. She’d tarried long enough. If she allowed him to speak any longer with his silver tongue, she was in danger of either losing this game of wills or scratching his eyes out. Or worse—surrendering.

“Your Majesty, I neither need nor want your assistance.”

“And if I apologised?”

“Then you would be doing the bare minimum of courtesy.” She narrowed her eyes.

He sank down to one knee before her, surprising a gasp from her. What was a king doing, kneeling before her? Monarchs only knelt for two reasons—prayer and defeat. He took her hand and kissed it.

“And if I apologised on my knees?”

As bold as she’d been towards him, as familiar as she’d acted in his presence due to her long association with Viridian royalty, this felt like a step too far. Not even Phaedra dared kneel to Aurora, even in jest. If anyone saw him like this, it would tarnish his honour…and put a target on her back. After all, whoever could get a monarch to kneel was not someone to be ignored.

“Your Majesty…” she began, flailing in her panic. She didn’t hear anyone on the garden paths, but that could change in an instant.

“Theron,” he corrected her, as calm as could be. As if his reputation weren’t a single pair of eyes and loose lips away from being tainted.

“Theron, you’re taking this too far.”

“You asked for my apology. I apologise for losing my temper with you. Will you forgive me?”

Her insides twisted in knots. This was a mistake. A dangerous mistake.

“I will, now please just stand, or loom, or do something other than this.”

He pulled her close, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Would you like that improper apology now?” he asked, his hands skating up her legs.

“I—I—n-no,” she stammered. “P-please just stop kneeling.”

“It won’t be kneeling if you join me,” he said, hands gripping her thighs before he trailed them back down her legs. “You have a king on his knees. Why not take advantage?”

Her brows pinched. How could he suggest such a thing? They’d been at each other’s throats just moments ago. Maybe she would never understand him. Once again, she was playing his game. He might be on his knees, but he remained in control. Goddess, he was bad for her. She couldn’t forget who and what he was, even for a moment. Every time she did, he turned the tables on her. Time for a course correction.

“Then tell me why you lost your temper with me.”

“That—”

His eyes shuttered. He made to stand. Aurora placed her hand on his shoulder, stilling him.

“—Or do I not actually have a king on his knees?”

His hands gripped her thighs as he glared at her mulishly. Better. This was much preferable to falling for his tricks. If he wished to ensnare her, he’d best not fall into his own traps.

He remained there for some time, hands gripping her thighs, refusing to let go. Long enough for her to recognise that he was wrestling with demons and not just stubbornness. And the moment he saw that she’d understood that, he jerked away as if burned, getting to his feet. Aurora advanced on him, refusing to give him space to rebuild his walls. If he could smash through hers without a thought, she would return the favour. Let him be on the defensive for once.

“If you can’t answer me, we’re done. You’ll never see me again,” she threatened.

“That’s not—”

“What? Fair? When are you ever fair?” she interrupted, raising her brow.

He ran a hand down his face, weighing his options. It was clear he considered being vulnerable a weakness he simply didn’t tolerate in himself. She had to know if he were capable of truly giving something of himself to her. It was clear he was happy to share his physical body, but not his heart. And a man who couldn’t share his heart was not to be trusted.

He snarled.

“As you wish. I told you of my brother. The moment I awakened my magic, I was responsible for his health. The night he died, I’d slipped away to drink and carouse. When I’d returned, he was gone. What you said…it reminded me of that night. There, are you happy? Satisfied? ”

Oh, merciful Triad, no wonder he’d acted the way he had. He blamed himself. Just as she’d blamed him.

“How could I be?” she asked, her brows pinched.

He lunged at her, fury in his eyes, tackling her to the ground. She braced for the impact, but even in his anger, he’d cupped the back of her head, preventing any hurt.

“You dare—”

“Theron,” she said, her voice soft. “I’m sorry. No one with a heart would be happy after hearing that. You must’ve been young when it happened.”

“I don’t want your pity!”

She reached up to cup his face. Goddesses forgive her, she’d stepped on the tenderest part of his heart without knowing it. Beneath all his bluster and scheming, he was just a man. She recalled that night again, the things he’d said, the things she’d shouted back, but now she understood.

“What about my kindness?” she offered.

“I don’t need your coddling.”

“Then what do you need?”

He froze, as if he couldn’t name the thing he needed—dare not name it. He swallowed, eyeing her like it was she who was crouched atop him , pinning him down in the dirt. In that moment, her heart hurt for him. For them. Two people who had no one they could rely on utterly for warmth and compassion. At least she’d had Phaedra. Would have her again if she succeeded. Had he ever had anyone like that?

“Are you proposing to give me what I need?” he asked, leaning into her touch.

“Within reason,” she replied, sweeping her thumbs across his cheekbones.

She could be kind to him if he proved he could be the same without ulterior motives. It would ease some part of her to have even a sliver of that warmth in her life again.

“And if I asked…” His gaze wandered down her neck, his womaniser’s grin back in place.

Aurora rolled her eyes. That didn’t last long.

“Not that,” she snorted.

“Shrew,” he accused her playfully.

“Pervert,” she retorted, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

He smiled. A real smile.

“Harridan.”

“Tyrant.”

“I suspect you would enjoy my tyranny.”

“And I suspect you enjoy my scolding.”

“Doesn’t that mean we’re perfectly matched?” he raised a brow.

“No, it means we’re perfectly mismatched, Your Majesty.”

He leaned in. She could feel his breath on her lips. She need only lift her head a fraction to claim his. Or shift her hips to discover how ardently he desired her in turn. Some reckless, mindless part of her wanted to. Warmth could be had in more ways than one. In different ways to the one she truly needed.

Why couldn’t she have met this man in her own time, before her thread had been twisted with Drakon’s? She could have revelled in carnality then, free from the death and duty that stalked her. She could have given him what he desired, indulged in what he’d offered, secure in the knowledge that such a dalliance would not come back to bite her.

But she was not in her own time, and that life was long lost to her.

And this man had very sharp teeth.

“This is usually the part where a lady closes her eyes for a kiss, Aurora,” he said, his lips a whisper away from hers.

“Then I must disappoint you, Your Majesty.”

Theron sighed, leaning his head on her collarbone, his breath fanning her chest. Her nipples hardened, despite the heat. This was surely her punishment for neglecting her prayers to Passion on more than one occasion. It would be fitting indeed to be struck by lust for a man so wholly wrong for her at exactly the worst time.

“One day soon, you’ll look back on this and wonder why you didn’t just kiss me,” Theron chuckled, heaving himself off her. He got to his feet, leaned over, and offered her his hand.

Aurora took it, dusting herself off once she regained her balance.

“If I live long enough to dwell on such regrets, I’ll count myself lucky indeed.”

In an instant, her magic surged from her.

She was torn from the gardens, a puppet hurtling through the air, an invisible hand yanking on her strings.

Aurora stood in the atrium of the vivarium. The place was bathed in the light of the setting sun, but the details were fuzzy around the edges, as if a painter had forgotten to fill out the full canvas. Guests milled about, dressed in opulent finery as servants plied them with wine and delicacies. Her heart hammered in her chest.

“Please, you must leave!” she shouted, pleading.

Instead of heeding her, they laughed, leering at her. She bunched her fists in the gauzy fabric of what could only, with the greatest charity, be referred to as a dress. The fabric was all but transparent. The other prisoners of the vivarium were similarly attired, living trophies for Queen Flora’s guests to gawk at and mock. Only prostitutes wore such garments, a fact made all the more apparent by the presence of the very same in attendance dressed in better garb than the prisoners.

She watched the area beneath the musicians, waiting for what she knew was to come. A warm hand touched her shoulder. Theron looked down at her with a calmness she couldn’t fathom. He was a statue made of gold, covered from head to toe in glittering paint and an absurd number of green jewels, his dignity spared by the presence of a mere loincloth.

“You should go somewhere safe now, madam fairy.”

“I can’t! They won’t listen! They’re going to—”

“Aurora, you did everything you could.”

“Please, don’t stay here! Come with me!”

“I will not run from my fate.”

“It can’t be fate! I can change it!”

Screams erupted. The shadows beneath the musicians roiled like boiling water. Some managed to flee, while others were devoured whole by the monstrosities clawing their way out of the shadowy muck. Nobles, entertainers and servants fled, tripping over themselves. Chaos erupted in the atrium as monstrosities began ripping and slashing and devouring. Everyone the beasts could snatch became a gory splatter. The green and gold of the vivarium was swiftly painted crimson.

“Aurora!”

She gasped, her eyes searching wildly for the monstrosities pouring out of the shadows. But there were no screams here. There were no floors covered in viscera and walls painted in blood.

She was drowning in Theron’s magic, pouring through her like water in a sieve.

“Aurora!”

Her eyes met his and she released a shaky breath. He was terrified, searching her for some injury. If only. Merciful Triad, she’d had a vision. She covered her face in her hands and whimpered. Was this some test? Was she supposed to face it or flee? What could she do against monstrosities, without a drop of divine magic in her?

“Does anything hurt? What happened?”

“I…”

How could she explain it? No one in their right mind would believe her.

“I thought you were having a seizure. But you didn’t exhibit any of the other signs and my magic couldn’t find what was wrong. Is it some kind of fairy sickness? What can I do?”

It didn’t matter if he didn’t believe her. So what if time magic was so rare it was almost unheard of? If her vision came to pass, he may very well die before he ever got back to Aureum. That wasn’t how history was supposed to happen. It wasn’t how she needed to change it. What if she held back, and she made everything worse?

“Monstrosities. In the atrium.”

His eyes widened. He held her closer, eyes darting towards the guest palace.

“You can hear that from here?”

“I…” She swallowed. Well, at least if he thought her mad, he was more likely to send her on her way. Some small silver lining to bolster her faltering courage. “I saw it. It’s not happening now. But it…it will. In the evening. On the night of a party. The prisoners here will be dressed as prostitutes. You will be painted in gold. The monstrosities will come up from underneath the musicians.”

“You…saw it.”

“Yes,” she whispered, eyes askance.

“And you’re not hurt?”

“No, not by seeing it.”

Not physically, at least. If she lived long enough, she was apt to lose her mind. The same as every other oracle. An early death or a slow slide into madness. Such lovely options.

“Wait here.” He sat her down under the shade of a tree.

Aurora made to stand.

“No, stay there,” he commanded.

There was something in his tone that made her heart sink. He was repelled by her. Perhaps he thought her mad, and that it was catching.

“Are you coming back?” she asked softly. “It’s alright if you’re not. I’ll understand.”

“I’m coming back,” he said quietly, his expression guarded.

So this was goodbye. She squeezed her hands and nodded, trying to keep her smile from faltering.

“I’ll wait,” she lied.

She waited until she couldn’t hear him. Then she waited a little more. But when she could no longer deny the truth, she stood shakily. Well, that had been easier than she’d imagined. Aurora could have saved herself a rather stressful afternoon if she’d just told him about her magic. Funny, how quickly things could change. There was no chance of gaining his aid now.

Aurora found her hole in the wall and removed the stones covering it up. If the stones appeared blurrier than before, it was nothing more than a combination of the summer heat and her sweat. Or a bit of dirt. She couldn’t be blamed for getting a bit of dirt in her eyes. In any case, her tears would take care of it soon enough.

Another shaky breath escaped her lips. She could do this. Phaedra was counting on her. Silvanus too. What did it matter that one doomed king thought her delusional? If nothing else, he’d taught her to guard her heart more closely. She’d been reckless, letting him in so readily. That wouldn’t happen again. Aurora needed to let people prove themselves before placing such trust in them. There, lesson learned. Nothing was a waste so long as she learned something from it.

Aurora placed her satchel by the entrance to the hole so that she could grab it once she’d gone through. As she got down on her hands and knees, she heard sounds in the bushes above. Sounds that became more frantic.

“Aurora?” Theron called.

She sat there, dumbfounded. What was he doing back here? Had he come to relieve her of her artefacts? What else could it be but that? They were worth a great deal. She pushed the satchel into the hole and shimmied in after it. She’d almost reached the other side when he grabbed her ankle.

Aurora shrieked as he pulled her back through.

“I told you to wait.”

“Why should I? You think I’m mad. You probably only came back to take my artefacts,” she accused him.

He snatched her wrist and pulled her forward, his expression severe.

“Stop!” she cried.

He placed a blue crystal orb in her palm. The same kind he’d used to show her Aureum.

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me what you saw.”

“But… You… You believe me?”

“I believe what I can see. Show me, Aurora.”

“How do I…?”

“Focus on what you want to see. Hold it in your mind.”

She did as he’d asked. She focused on the feeling of that inescapable tugging, on the things she’d seen. Between blinks, she was reliving the horror with Theron as her witness, the hopelessness, the screams, the fear, the blood. She was glad when it was over.

“Queen Flora is planning a party to celebrate the end of the plague and the reopening of Boreas. By the lighting, it appeared to be early evening,” Theron mused.

“You really believe me?” she asked, cautious hope taking up residence in her heart.

“I don’t want to. It would be easier if you were mad. But your visions explain a great deal. And dressing me like some kind of gaudy golden statue after I complained of the quality of the attire she provided is exactly Flora’s style of pettiness. Now we must find some way to avert the future you saw.”

Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest.

And then her magic ripped her away.

She hurtled through vast emptiness until she found herself back in the atrium.

Monsters poured out of the shadows, tearing through guards like wet paper. Severed limbs and bloody guts littered the slippery floors. More soldiers poured into the space, desperate to keep the monstrosities contained. Theron led from the front, keeping them from devouring her with his shield and spear.

Aurora tried to scrabble to her feet, to her artefact that was so tantalizingly close in the melee, but slipped again when an elongated arm shot out from the nearest shadow. It dug its taloned paw into her ankle and dragged her towards its serrated teeth as she screamed.

A group of paladins joined the fray. Aurora prayed they would make it to her in time.

Theron turned, seeing her being dragged to her death. He leapt to her defence, jabbing his spear into the beast. He looked back to assess her condition.

It was but a moment, but in that moment, everything changed.

The next monster that rose drove its talons through Theron’s body, showering Aurora in his blood and guts. Red poured from a wound the size of a dinner plate. A river ran down his back and legs, covering gold with the deepest ruby.

Aurora gasped.

Then screamed.