She seemed to think about it while Sofia tentatively brushed her fingers through her mother’s tattered hair in an attempt to tame the frizzy dark curls.
“Despoina. I am Despoina Ariti,” she finally declared with a proud tilt of her head.
“It is nice to meet you, Despoina. I am Amira.”
“Consort,” she blurted at me, and I blinked in surprise that she would recognize my name.
“Yes. I am King Riordan’s consort,” I confirmed.
“Good king. Just too late,” Despoina whispered with a shake of her shaggy head.
“Yes. I am sorry,” I told her carefully with a glance at Sofia who had stiffened again.
“Many enemies. Many enemies,” Despoina continued, beginning to rock back and forth as she shook her head in growing alarm. “So many enemies coming after you.”
I hesitated as her words prickled my intuition.
“You know our enemies?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as calm and conversational as before.
Despoina lifted her arm to sweep it over our heads so suddenly that we both ducked. Her sunken eyes appeared distant as if she were seeing something else in our place.
“Armies to the horizon. Fey and Fuath. Blood magics that pierce the veils,” she rambled.
“What are you going on about—” Sofia began to ask, but I grabbed her arm to stop her from interrupting.
“The fire is listening. The queen of decay is moving! Light and dark clash in the heavens,” Despoina continued, raising her eyes to the ceiling. “An ancient rage answered by an unforgiving wrath!”
“Despoina, do you know who the king’s enemies are?” I asked her calmly and ignored Sofia’s sigh.
“So many fey sacrificed. The power is in their blood. He trusted him! But they are all beholden to the Spider,” Despoina hissed before her face slackened as if she were listening to something. Then she blinked, her eyes clear again as she looked at me directly. “Hypatia calls you.”
“Hypatia?” I repeated.
“I think that is enough for today,” Sofia broke in with a firm look at me, and I nodded reluctantly, although I was already planning to return. Sofia might see it as mindless muttering, but there were just too many chords of truth in her words for me to discredit them entirely.
We bid Sofia’s mother goodbye and promised to come back soon.
“Thank you,” whispered Sofia, clenching my arm once we were outside again. “I never would have considered that giving her things would have made her a target and that was why she was rejecting help,” she said tearfully. “I’ve left her here all this time because it was too painful to see her and not be allowed to help her! Now I know that Icouldhave helped her if I had just been smarter.”
“You could not have guessed such a thing if you never had to experience it,” I insisted. She nodded, but I could still see the guilt weighing heavily on her.
“Thank you, Amira. I’m sorry for how I acted before,” she breathed as she swiped away her tears.
“No need to thank me,” I told her, turning to face her as I squeezed her arm affectionately.
“You are far too good for this place,” she muttered.
“Oh, please,” I laughed, shoving at her and turning to continue on toward the docks where Helena would have enough space to take flight.
“I am serious,” Sofia pressed. “Are you not the least bit unnerved by what you have learned today?”
“What is unnerving—Wait!” I gasped as I suddenly remembered something else. “Castor wanted Riordan to choose one of his daughters as a mate!” I recalled.
“It was my aunt that Castor wanted to mate to Riordan. As if the king would have ever accepted anyone but you,” Sofia laughed dismissively.
She was oblivious to my discomfort as the reality of the age differences between me and the griffins around me became crystal clear. But at least they did notlooklike they were centuries older than me. Right?
“Did your mother always have such visions?” I asked in order to distract myself, and Sofia scoffed as expected.
