Page 47 of Flamesworn

She thought about that as they continued to her father’s tent. “Maybe so, but my father has a right to know that his brother is still alive and is being used against his will, that hecouldhave killed me and Theron both, and didn’t. My–My uncle,” she said, tripping a bit over the words that sounded so strange to her, “he deserves to know my father has never forgotten him, and wants him to come home.”

Saying it out loud at least settled her resolve, and all the rest of her worries slotted back in the appropriate place for her to take out and examine later. She pushed the flap to her father’s war tent open, blinking in the sudden dim light. “Father, I have news. It’s important–” She stopped, because the tent was empty save one man--and it wasn’t her father. “Sir. Is my father nearby? I have information that is vital he learns.”

Stavros, the only other occupant of the tent, shook his head. He glanced at Ares, nodded slightly, then walked quickly tothem, beckoning them in and closing the heavy canvas behind them. “He had to go back to Axon. He took a small contingent of soldiers and left before dawn. We received word a raiding party was headed to the capital.”

Kataida glanced at Ares, and she remembered their astral visit, seeing Elena with a cold stare and a drawn bow, bleeding dominance as she stood over a fallen enemy soldier. She didn’t want to explain to Stavros how she’d known that, so she nodded, falling into attention and vaguely aware of Ares next to her, mimicking her stance.

“As I said, this news is vital. He needs to know.” She remembered Stavros telling her that one of her father’s inner circle was suspected for treason, but–certainly nothim. Stavros had never met a rule he didn’t decisively want to follow or make sureothersfollowed.

Then again, she would have thought all her father’s closest advisors were just as loyal, to Arktos if not to Evander.

She had to get this news to her father, and if trusting Stavros was the only way…shedidtrust him, of course. Her father would never leave her or Theron alone at camp with traitors, would he?

“I know who the Beast is,” she said, making her decision, “and you might not believe me, but I saw him. Sir, it’s Damian Akti. It’s my father’s brother.”

Stavros stared at her. His dark eyes were unreadable, but it was clear she’d shocked him, jaw slightly slack. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m always serious, sir. It’s him. He even admitted the reason he didn’t kill me or Theron. He knows who we are. He doesn’t want to be there, sir. They’ve–for thirty-one years–” She felt tears sting her eyes, the emotion she’d been so forcibly stifling overwhelming her at last. “They’ve kept him chained in the dark.”

Stavros closed his eyes, a tick in his now closed jaw. Stavros, Menelaus and Damian had been friends, she knew that. Her father had told her once, when Theron slipped off with his friends and refused to let her tag along.

My big brother did that to me too, sometimes, with Stavros and Menelaus, and now they’re very good friends of mine. Give it time, Kataida. You’ll see.

She hadn’t, not in the same way he had. Evander had to take over for his brother, and perhaps that was the only reason he’d become so friendly with Stavros and Menelaus. Who knew what might have happened if Damian lived? If Damian hadescaped?

“That’s impossible,” Stavros whispered, running a hand over his face. “We would have known. We–We would have found him. It’simpossible.”

“No,” Ares spoke up softly, their voice quiet, which was something Kataida noticed they’d begun to do as of late--instead of entering spaces and conversations like a cannon-shot, they were more careful, more apt to watch, to listen, to match the tone of a person instead of drowning them out with the boom of their voice. “It was him. I was there.”

“Explain that,” Stavros snapped, then closed his eyes briefly and said, firmly, “Please report, Soldier Akti.”

So she did. Kataida tried not to blush when she told a man who had changed her diapers that she’d been in bed with agod, but she needed him to believe her, and it was the truth. Stavros did give a bit of a startle, but he didn’t look completely surprised, which likely meant the fact she was sleeping with Ares was common knowledge in the war camp.

Stavros made her go over it twice, then had her and Ares describe the scene with Damian in detail so he could take notes and try and pin down a location. When she was done, she said carefully, “May I be permitted to go find my father, sir? I havefull respect for you and that he was your friend, but I think my father might want to hear this from me.”

Stavros took a long, deep breath. “I understand that, and for what it’s worth, I agree. Damian Aktiwasmy friend, but he was your father’s brother, and I know how Evander has always blamed himself for what happened. The sooner we can ascertain where he is and get him out, the sooner this can be over.” Stavros, too, looked as if he were trying to resettle himself, dam up a sudden swell of an emotional deluge until he had the time and space to let it free.

She waited, giving him the time he needed, though she could feel sweat prick the back of her neck from the stuffy air of the tent and the restlessness that was never far from her. She needed to get back to Axon, and waiting for him to come to a decision felt like torture.

Finally, his shoulders went back and his voice went sharp with dominance as he faced her not as a longtime family friend, not as an honorary uncle, but as a high-ranking officer of the Arkoudai issuing commands in a time of war. “Soldier Akti, thank you for bringing this information to me in your father’s absence. You willnot,I repeatwill not,act impulsively and rush off toward Axon.” He held up a hand as she drew breath to protest, thinking he meant to deny her. “I will send you back to your father, but properly. We are still at war, soldier, and you’ll need a force to accompany you. A small one, but we can’t risk having you captured, too.”

Annoyance simmered; she did not need nor want an armed escort. She would prefer to have simply taken Ares in their sword form and a horse and ridden hard toward home within the hour. She could defend herself and she knew how to use the landscape to her advantage, and what better companion for such a journey during wartime than the god of war themselves?

“Soldier, you will do as I say in this matter. It’s an order,” Stavros said, and his voice, while sharp with dominance and heavy with command, wasn’t unkind. “Let me make sure you arrive safely to give your father this news. Your father left me in charge of this outpost, and you are a soldier under my command.”

She was, of course, but she was also Evander’s daughter, and the thought of sitting in camp with this information for even anhourfelt unbearable. “Yes, sir.”

He must have seen the reticence she was too tired to entirely hide, because he sighed, and some of his imposing, stern demeanor eased. “The identity of the Beast,” he said, a note of disgust at the moniker now, “is something the enemy already knows. What we need to do more than anything is find out where he’s being held, and the more people we have looking for him, the quicker we’ll find him.”

“Yes, sir,” she said again, a headache blooming behind her eyes, a sick flower grown in soil and nourished by exhaustion, fear, battle-lust, all of it. The very foundations of her existence were shaken, and it felt like there was an earthquake moving underground, like Ares’ brother Leviathan swimming silent under the sea. But this wasn’t a dragon god stirring silt with his wings, this was a nameless thing, this new danger.

My brother Leviathan is the Beginning,Ares had told her, speaking of their family to her in the privacy of her bed,but the rest of us just are.

Isn’t Azaiah the end?She’d asked, because what was the end if not Death?

No,Ares had said, shaking their head.Death is only change. War is conflict. Art endures and dreams start and stop with no rhyme or reason. Gods exist because life exists. The End wouldn’t be gods or humans or animals or plants--it would just be.

That was what she felt coming for her, that this nameless force like a storm beneath the sand, that it was an end. Maybe not for Iperios, but certainly for Arktos.