He didn’t answer, though his attention remained on Selena. Or, more appropriately, remained on the inside stitching of his hood, pointed in her direction.
Selena must have had the same thought. She scoffed. “Are you horribly disfigured or something?”
His mouth twitched again. “The opposite.”
“Well, I’ve seen your face before.” She flipped a page loudly. “I remember you. You may as well remove the hood.”
She knew him? I glanced at her, eyebrows raised.
Pheolix sighed loudly. “Most women buy me a drink before asking me to take off my clothes.” Selena’s jaw tightened, and even though he couldn't see her, his smirk grew. “The hood isn’t for you, though I’m flattered you think it is.”
“Who are you?” I cut in. “Thaan’s never mentioned a Pheolix.”
He ignored me, still trained on my sister. “So. Which part of me do you remember most?” The coach hit a small bump, and we all leaned slightly to the right to brace against it. Pheolix propped his arm along the backrest of his seat. When Selena didn't respond, he cleared his throat. “Can’t decide?”
She snorted, returning to her pages. “The words,jealous over being played at your own game,ring fairly clearly in my memory. The rest isn’t very memorable. You have a plain face, if I recall.”
I tried to place the sentence, but it was as foreign to me as he was. I waited for Selena to catch my bewildered expression. That’s what we usually did—toss covert glances back and forth, filling in gaps with questions and answers spoken by the subtle meeting of our eyes. But her mouth hardened, her brows tightened, and she kept her gaze firmly rooted to the book she wasn’t even reading.
Pheolix clicked his tongue. “Upset that I called your transition a game? You should know that it’s all a game to him. A method of seeing who plays and who doesn’t. Who listens and who disobeys.”
She turned a page. “I think I made it clear in his office an hour ago that I don’t obey.”
The coach hit another bump. I thumped her thigh with the back of my hand, demanding she look at me, and she gave a small shake of her head.
Pheolix exhaled a breathy chuckle. “He expected you not to.” His eyes dropped to the book in Selena’s lap. “They fall in love in the end.”
Selena’s brows tightened, though she didn’t glance up. “Have you read it before?”
“No,” he sighed, leaning back. “That’s just what always happens. She’s some plucky princess locked in a tower, and he’s a prince disguised as a peasant from an enemy kingdom that rescues her with nothing but his cleft chin and bulging biceps. Cue a training subplot and traumatic backstories. The world tries to keep them apart, but against all odds, their adorable love perseveres. He ascends the throne, and they live happily ever after. Am I wrong?”
Eyes locked on her page, Selena’s scowl deepened.
My own lip curled as the Venus Sea carved into view. The red cliffs hung lower here than they did at Laurier Palace. Squat enough to find trails to climb down to the sand and sunbathe. Pheolix tilted his head back, no doubt so he could see the water under his hood. Mid-day in the month ofPiscaa,the sun reflected brightly against the distant sea, and even the gray of the ocean sparkled.
I shifted in my seat, a sudden barrage of nervous bubbles in my belly, though I let the shell of my exterior harden, promising myself that however Selena had met the stupid Naiad, she’d tell me later when we were alone.
If we didn’t die.
“We’ll cast off here,” Pheolix said as though he were in charge, lighting a wick of agitation within me. “Then swim north, directly through the center of their territory. If you see one of them, do whatever you can to escape. Don’t try to fight.”
Selena didn’t even look at him. “Are you planning to swim while wearing that thing?”
He ignored her, standing before the coach completely came to a bumpy halt and swinging out the door in a smooth drop. Selena finally met my eyes, and I widened mine at her, inviting an explanation. But she just rolledher own in a look that clearly stated,I’ll tell you later.Then unfolded herself from the bench, leaving her book on the cushion.
Alone in the coach, I pulled a crimson pill from the pouch of my skirt. As small as a seed, coated in soft beeswax, it sat opaque in my palm, rolling down the track of my lifeline. I tossed it into my mouth, then slid my fingers along my hip, ensuring the rest remained secure to my skin. All thirteen of them, caught under the scalloped edges of scales I’d summoned to the surface.
My stomach heaved.
I thrust myself out before I could think about what I’d just swallowed.
Pheolix had already stalked to the water’s edge. We waited for our coach to turn a wide arc, leaving us on the beach, a soft cloud of dust unfurling behind its wheels.
Selena yanked the ties of her stays, letting her corset flap to the damp sand, once more eyeing Pheolix’s cloak. “What is it, wool? Be a shame if it drowned you.”
I gave an involuntary chuckle. My sister, well-read and brainy, rarely took that tone with anyone but me. Whoever he was, he’d done something to offend her. She generally didn’t hoard grudges either, but judging by how well I knew him, I was left to imagine he’d done something truly vexing. Long ago.
Pheolix flicked his neck-clasp open with a lazy thumb. It dropped from his shoulders, leaving tanned skin and tattooed lines that spanned the length of his back in broad strokes, trailing his sides below his ribcage. The pattern reminded me of something, though I couldn’t place what. I couldn’t place his face, either, but I’d never been skilled at remembering faces. Or perhaps I’d never cared to.
