Page 125 of House of Dusk
Really?She scoffed at herself.That’s what you care most about? Whether the god of death remembers that you kissed him?What mattered was the plan.
“Will you distract the other skotoi?” she asked, as if it were perfectly normal to be making battle plans with a giant serpent.
I will do far more thandistractthem.
His words whispered in her mind, which ought to have terrified her. But there was a dry warmth to it, almost amusement. It sounded like Nilos’s voice. Just a little. Enough to unlock her frozen limbs.
Which was good, because the Serpent was already moving, rippling out into the center of the labyrinth. Now that Sephre had some distance, now that his eyes weren’t haunting her, she could better comprehend his size. He was larger than any natural serpent, thick around as a horse at the broadest point. And endless. There were still dark coils rippling past her, though he had almost reached the bridge.
But would it be enough? The boar-skotoi was enormous, too. What if—
The Serpent struck swift as lightning. One moment he was rippling across the stones, the next moment his jaws were around the neck of the boar-skotoi, his coils winding around its rotting body. The boar bellowed. Bone snapped.
My realm. My rules.
Within the coils, the boar began to crumple. Bone and rotting flesh fell to ash, sifting gently to the earth. A slithering darkness tried to escape, but the Serpent snatched at it, jaw wide as the sky, before snapping tight. Swallowing down what remained of the demon.
The remaining skotoi shattered. Some of them—the smaller ones, she thought—simply fled, twisting away into the depths of the labyrinth. But others remained, including all those that had clothed themselves in flesh.
The Serpent gave a snickering hiss. He drew back, away from the bridge. Away from the stone pillar where Timeus still hung.
This was her distraction. Sephre crept out from the passage, hunched low, scuttling. She gripped the small dagger in one hand. It was better than nothing, and she’d always had a good kick. But even better not to get into a fight at all right now.
A daze still clung to her thoughts, and breathing was becoming more of a challenge. As Nilos had warned her, without the Serpent’s mark, she was simply a mortal woman, walking the underworld. That was...not a good thing to be.
She quickened her pace, forcing her weary legs to a jog. Dimly, she was aware of black coils lashing and rippling. She heard the shrieks of the skotoi, the low, humorless rasp of the Serpent’s hiss. And closer, the whispers of the spirits. They drifted behind her, as if she were a falling star, and they her silvery trail.
Then she was at the pillar. Staring up at a lanky boy with overlarge ears who looked utterly astonished at her arrival. Though Timeus often looked astonished, so perhaps it had nothing to do with her.
“Sister Sephre? What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t lose my best apprentice.” She climbed up onto the stone plinth. Stretching, she could just barely work the blade of the dagger under the cords that bound him. Not rope, she realized, shuddering. Tendon. She whispered a low prayer for the spirit of whatever corpse had been desecrated to provide them. “Then I’d have all the bother of training someone new.”
He laughed, though it came out as more of a croak. The bindings parted, loosening his hands. The boy collapsed, but she was quicker, and managed to catch one long arm. Fates, he really was just a collection of knobbly knees and elbows.
“Can you stand?” she asked.
“I think so.” He got his feet under him, easing himself upright.
“Can you call the flame? You need to get to the center of the pool. Drive off those other skotoi.” She pointed. A sigh rose from the spirits drifting nearby.
Timeus turned to her, confused. “I—But you—”
She shook her head. “I can’t do it.”
“But—”
“I’m not an ashdancer anymore. It’s...it’s too much to explain right now. But we need to drive back those skotoi, so that the spirits can reach the flame.”
He blinked. “Er. Right. So I guess I shouldn’t ask about that, either?” He pointed past her, to where the Serpent writhed and coiled, snapping at skotoi.
Sephre gave a hollow huff. “I’ll tell you everything later.” If there was a later. She caught the edge of the pillar as another wave of dizziness washed through her.
Timeus made a noise of concern, but she pushed herself back to her feet before he could reach for her. “I need you to do this, Brother Timeus,” she said. “You’re the only one who can.”
She stared at him, fixing his wide brown eyes with her own. She saw a flash of uncertainty—he still doubted himself—but resolve chased after it, and won. He nodded, lifting his palms, kindling handfuls of crimson flame. Then he turned and set off along the narrow stone bridge.
The spirits followed, their whispers louder now, eager. Silvery-gray mist buffeted Sephre as she tried to follow as well. Not that Timeus needed her. He was a red brother now. And in time, he would be a yellow brother. And who knew? Agia Timeus? That would be nice. He was wiser than she’d first thought. Wiser than her.
