Page 24 of House of Dusk
Sinoe shuddered, sagging into her brother’s arms. Yeneris watched, feeling impotent and stupid. The girl’s hair fell over her face, a sweep of darkness, gemmed with those stubborn crimson glints.
The servant who had brought the brazier leapt forward at a gesture from Lacheron, and began to smother the flames. Slowly, the smoke cleared. But the king’s expression did not.
“So. It’s true. The Serpent will return.”
Lacheron was silent for several heartbeats, brow furrowed, a look of calculation. Then he nodded. “Indeed. And you must be prepared to meet him, my king. You must have the maiden reborn at your side.”
Hierax glowered. “And yet Agia Halimede continues to refuse to restore her.”
Yeneris held herself very still, but the words shook her deep inside. Restore the kore to life? Impossible. Unthinkable. How could such a thing even be possible?
“She cannot deny you now,” said Lacheron. “Not with the word of the Fates on your side. And it seems she holds other secrets, as well.”
He paced over to the scribe, who Yeneris now saw had been dutifully recording Sinoe’s words. He bent over the tablet, a strange, quick energy seeming to spark in each movement. He was excited. Eager. On the hunt.
“The first light must reveal the weapon of unmaking,” he read out, then turned to face the king. “And what is the first light?”
“Dawn,” said the king.
“Indeed. The Sibyl of Tears has made our path clear. We will find answers in the House of Dawn. We must go to their temple. We must go to Stara Bron.”
CHAPTER 8
YENERIS
“Good,” said Hierax, with the fierce attention of a man biting into a bit of choice meat. “Lord Lacheron, you and Prince Ichos will see to it. It’s time the fire witches made themselves useful.” He swept his gaze back to Sinoe, still cradled in her brother’s arms. “You’ve done well, daughter.”
Sinoe’s eyelids fluttered. She mumbled something.
“I’ll take her back to her room,” said Ichos, hefting her more tightly against his chest.
“No, Ichos,” said Hierax. “You have other work.” He nodded toward the prisoner, slumped in the grip of the two soldiers at the edge of the room. “I promised he would die screaming. You will keep that promise.”
“But Sinoe—”
“The girl will tend to your sister.”
It took Yeneris a moment to realize that she was “the girl.” She tucked the golden potion away, then stalked over to Ichos. The prince had gone ashen, lips bloodless and tight. The look he gave Yeneris could have turned her to stone.
But he had little other option. Nor did she. Yeneris thrust out her arms, her throat dry.
“I expect you to take good care of my sister,” said Ichos, his voice a threat and a promise.
“She’ll be safe with me,” said Yeneris. “I swear it by the Fates.”
Something seemed to shiver in the air between them, over Sinoe’s red-gleamed hair. Even Ichos appeared to feel it, lips parting slightly, as if breathing in the vow, tasting its truth.You fool, she told herself.What was that?She had no business making any such promise, especially binding it by the Fates. But the words were out now. Spoken. And they’d done their work. Ichos pressed Sinoe into her arms, a soft bundle smelling of smoke and honey and just slightly of fish sauce.
Yeneris clenched her jaw, keeping her expression stern, trying to ignore the tickle of Sinoe’s hair as the woman nuzzled into her shoulder with a sigh. Ichos tucked a trailing fold of Sinoe’s borrowed cloak more securely around her.
“I’ve given you a task, Ichos,” said the king. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
The soldiers dragged the prisoner forward, into the center of the hall. Yeneris had one last glimpse of the prince’s face before he turned away. Pale as ash, with a terrible resignation in his eyes.
Yeneris retreated for the door. The screams began just as she quit the room.
• • •
Yeneris hovered outside Sinoe’s bathing chamber, debating whether to knock again. The princess had awakened soon after Yeneris carried her over the threshold of the royal apartment, and had retreated at once to the bath. The last time she’d knocked, Sinoe had told her to go get some sleep, by the Fates, that she was perfectly fine.
