Only when it was time to sleep had we paused in our journey for more than half an hour. As such, my butt hurt thanks to the hard bench, and my joints were stiff and achy—most especially my knees from having to keep my legs bent for hours on end.
Likely because they weren’t quite so nervous as the humans, Atticus and his fellow godkin were currently asleep, leaning against each other, their breaths light and easy.
Kemp slanted me a quick look. “What kind of reception do you think you’ll get from the Sovereigns?”
I blew out a long breath. “Not a welcoming one.”
Aurelia caught my eye. “I’d expected the officiates to shoot you constant glares, considering godkin in general aren’t happy that a human was made a Sayer. But they seem more curious than anything else. Same goes for Talon.”
I’d often caught him watching me, his eyes narrowed, his seemingly permanent frown etched onto his face. Having his attention might have made my stomach all jittery if there wasanything sexually appreciative about his looks, but there never was.
I’d heard some officiates whispering to each other, debating what it could mean that the gods had chosen a human for a Sayer; if Aegeas could be right that it didn’t mean anything at all.
I hadn’t gotten irritable over being stared at. It would have been hypocritical—I’d been paying close attention to the officiates, curious about the stunningly beautiful godkin. Due to having never left Phoenixia until now, I hadn’t encountered the other godkin races of Cathadonya before. But I’d heard about them and knew how to tell them apart.
The godkin of Delphiae sported white hair, a slightly upturned nose, and a glowing earthy skin tone. Those from Nemea were dark-skinned with wide cheekbones and black hair that boasted pure-gold streaks. Any from Lykaos possessed large amber eyes, low-set ears, and heavy-framed builds. Those in Phoenixia shared pointed ears, narrow faces, and widely spaced-eyes.
There had once been other races, but many had been wiped out during battles. Only one other remained—the godkin of Deimos, who all had alabaster skin, black irises, angular faces, and were said to drink blood. More like them existed, but they lived outside of Cathadonya, having fled to the Dark Lands after the failed mutiny—or the Uprising, as most referred to it.
The traitors had each claimed their own domain there, refusing to acknowledge the Sovereigns as their kings. In the years since, the four had so often fought amongst themselves, each grappling for more power over the Dark Lands, that they now considered each other enemies.
The clop of hooves became louder as we began our trek over the bridge, a grating sound filling the air as the wheels dragged over the stone. Finally, those same wheels hit dirt … andthen it was as if nighttime had fallen. My breath caught when the sun all but disappeared as we drove into the forest. The tall, twisted trees—some black, some ruby red, some a rich brown—were clustered so tight together that they created a dark blanket up above.
The wagon’s cover flapped with a breeze that came from nowhere and everywhere. I rubbed my arms as it seeped into the wagon, carrying the scent of tepid, stale air.
Though sporadic beams of sunlight slashed through the gaps in the canopies, it didn’t help me see much of my surroundings. The fog was too thick. All I could make out were wispy visions of the unpaved road that seemed to cut through the labyrinth of trees.
Minutes went by, but the haze didn’t dissipate. As such, Iheardmore than Isaw. Heard the distant thunder of a waterfall, the creaking of branches, the burbling of a stream, the flapping of wings, the—
A far-off bestial howl cut through the air, making several spines snap straight.
The hairs on my nape stood up as a grave unease twisted my insides. Hmm, I wasn’t liking Deimos so far.
More and more animalistic sounds came our way as we drove. Caws. Snorts. Rumbly growls. Even a feline roar.
Some of said sounds were a little too close for comfort. Shadows occasionally moved in the fog. Branches would snap. Fallen leaves would crackle. The Laelaps in the wagon would subsequently growl in warning, their eyes pinned on something I couldn’t see.
I was pretty sure severalthingswere stalking us, hence the intense pounding of my heart.
Time seemed to drag on as we continued through the woods with no end in sight. But at some point, the fog started todisperse and the trees began to thin out. Then, soon enough, it wasright there.
A gray fortified wall as high as the nearby sandstone pillars.
My breath hitched, and nerves gripped my gut tight.
Atop the wall were four, large stone dragons spaced evenly apart, perched there like gargoyles. Statues were all that was left of the magnificent race. The dragons had tragically died in their defense of the gods during the Uprising.
A creak preceded the opening of two excessively tall wooden doors that revealed an arched entrance barred by an iron gate. A gate which then lifted.
We drove straight into a large, rectangular bailey. Just like that, the fog was gone. As if whatever power created it also kept it restricted to the Pines.
Taking in everything around me, I felt my lips part. The city wasmassive. And utterly beautiful.
Workshops, stables, market stalls, and other small buildings could be seen around the bailey. The white stone buildings were covered in vegetation, making them look part of a woodland glade. Vines wound around columns. A blanket of grass lightly overlayed steps. Ivy dangled over archways.
All the vegetation was lush and vivid. Almost ethereally so. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see fabled nymphs flitting around.
The people in the bailey backed away from the traveling party, bowing their heads in respect. Going by their simple clothing, they were all basic servants. They were also … “Human. They’re human.”
