We mirrored him, albeit with extreme reluctance, and entered a half-moon space that was clearly some sort of royal audience chamber. The three Sovereigns were lounging on thrones that were set on a platform flanked by columns. The light shining through the glass windows behind them formed asort of halo around the thrones, giving the brothers a celestial look.
Despite their too-pale skin and eerily black eyes, the dark-haired brothers were striking. Perfectly pleasing in appearance. Almost entrancing, even.
A curvy raven-haired woman who vaguely resembled Minos stood off to the side, her back ruler straight, her pretty pale face a study in serenity. Probably his daughter, Ariadne. When word of my birth was sent to the Sovereigns due to my being a Sayer, she had come to investigate and made it clear that they should be notified if I exhibited any displays of power.
“Ah, you have returned,” said the broad male on the middle throne. Thanks to the conversation we’d just overheard, I recognized his voice as belonging to Minos.
Several feet away from the platform, Talon stopped dead. Behind him, we came to a swift, clumsy halt.
“These are the offerings from Phoenixia, I presume,” said the half-blood sat on Minos’ right. Trim and clean-shaven, he was all elegance and poise. “Any trouble there?”
Moving to stand near the wall, his hands clasped behind his back, Talon shook his head.
“Aegeas is getting more and more resentful about having to offer up sacrifices, though,” said Ajax, sidling up to Talon.
The third Sovereign—who possessed a bulky frame and a thick, curly beard—flicked his hand in a dismissive gesture. “He wouldn’t dare make a second attempt to dethrone us.”
“There’s a human who might interest you,” said Ajax.
I went still, my jaw firming.
Minos’ brow dented. “I highly doubt that.”
Ajax waved a hand at the tight cluster of offerings. “See for yourself.”
Minos pushed off his throne. At that, the Phoenixians in front of me began parting swiftly. I thought about mimickingthem … but it seemed cowardly. So I remained in place as more and more people moved aside until, finally, I was in his direct line of sight.
The Sovereign made a slow, graceful beeline for me … and yes, my nerves had a breakdown. Still, I remained very still as he made his approach.
Minos gave me an assessing look, his gaze gleaming with interest, his power pulsing around him like a living presence. “You are the human Sayer I once heard about.”
“HumanSayer?” echoed the slender half-blood, clenching the arms of his throne. He looked at Ariadne, accusing. “You said that she would likely not live long.”
“She was a sickly babe, Eacus; none of the townspeople expected her to survive the fever,” Ariadne babbled.
She wassortof right on that. I had been terribly ill as a baby, and most had thought that I’d die. But none of the acolytes had held such a belief, sure that a human Sayer would not be born only to pass within a month of its life.
The third Sovereign, who could only be Rhadamanthus—and what a mouthfulthatwas—spoke. “It should not be possible for a mortal Sayer to exist.”
“And yet, Rhad, here one stands before us,” said Minos, a million questions dancing in his gaze. He glanced back at both of his brothers. “Did you ever imagine that we would see such a thing?”
A thing?
Eacus crossed to us, a line between his brows. “She is the only Sayer to have been born in the past decade, so we have no way of knowing if they will all be human from now on if she is an anomaly. Have the gods ever used you in any way?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “No.”
Minos eyed me closely again. “Your name?”
“Anara,” I told him, my heart now pounding so hard that I was surprised my ribcage wasn’t rattling.
“Anara,” Minos drawled as he very slowly circled me, making my muscles bunch even tighter. “I recognize this garment you wear. You are an acolyte.”
“Ah, so the primordials selected one of their attendants.” Rhad left the platform and walked to his brothers. “But why? A mortal cannot act as a divine conduit—it would kill them. To anoint her was nonsensical.”
“I did always wonder if perhaps she is an experiment,” Minos told him. “It would be like the gods to place the soul of a godkin into that of a human to see if it survived. They do like their experiments. And it would not be the first time they placed a soul in a body that was not intended to home it.”
Eacus’ brow creased in thought. “It would explain why they haven’t used her. Their experiment failed. She survived, but she is useless to them.”
