Page 143 of Between Two Kings

The corners of Apollo’s mouth creased. “So impatient.”

Tem rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

Apollo let out a bark of laughter. “No one has ever told me to shut up before.”

“I find that exceedingly difficult to believe.”

He shrugged. “Most find me a witty conversationalist.”

“Most are wrong.”

Apollo only laughed again.

“Apollo, wait.” Tem grabbed his arm, and he stopped. “I…” But she trailed off. She’d hoped that the fear nagging at her stomach would have disappeared by now, but it hadn’t.

“I don’t want to murder anyone.”

Apollo raised an eyebrow. “I see. In that case, I shall take you back to the mountain.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I want to learn to petrify. I just…don’t want to kill anyone innocent.”

Apollo took a small step closer. His breath joined hers. “Innocence is not a measurable element, Temperance.”

“I know. But can’t we pick someone who deserves to die?”

Apollo tilted his head. “Such as?”

“I don’t know. A bad person.”

“And how would you determine that they are a bad person?”

Tem sighed. She supposed there wasn’t really a way to determine that. Truth be told, she hadn’t thought this part through. It was true that she wanted to learn how to petrify, but she hadn’t thought about who she would petrify. If Jonathan or Christopher were still alive, she might’ve volunteered them. Maximus was the only other bad person she knew, and he was sequestered in the dungeon, his imprisonment punishment enough.

“I don’t know,” she said again. “But there must be a way.”

Apollo considered her. “I see what Caspenon meant.”

“Excuse me?”

“He told me you were sensitive.”

“Sensitive?”

Apollo raised his hand. “Please do not take offense,” he said, and the sincerity of his tone surprised her. “I know you are part human. I understand it is important to you that your own kind does not suffer.”

At her silence, Apollo stepped even closer.

“I cannot guarantee they will deserve it. But if it will ease your mind, we will choose someone who would be better off dead.”

When she still didn’t reply, he sighed.

“Temperance,” Apollo said quietly. “You can trust me.”

They were empty words. What was trust in the face of utter uncertainty? Tem didn’t trust Apollo. And she certainly didn’t trust herself. Her basilisk side had no qualms with what they were about to do. But her human side was horrified. She was here out of necessity—out of some latent need to…what? Prove that she could do this? Prove it to whom? Tem was the only one who held herself to such a high standard. It was only her own judgment she measured herself against. Caspen himself had made it clear he never wanted her to petrify anyone. She was here entirely of her own volition.

Did that mean she was willing to become a murderer? It was difficult to see it any other way. It was easy to think about petrification in the abstract—to vaguely imagine what it would be like to turn someone to stone. But this was real. Tem was about to voluntarily take a life—a life that didn’t need to be taken. Every choice she’d made thus far had been to avoid bloodshed, to prevent death. Now she was choosing to kill. What did that say about her?

“Fine,” Tem said. She couldn’t seem to manage anything else.