Page 115 of A Sea of Fate and Starfire

He slid along the wall now, one arm ahead, the other wrapped around Selena behind him, keeping her within reach. When I murmured, “There’s light ahead,” he stalled, and I could almost see the dilemma flickering through his thoughts.

If there were drones waiting somewhere for us in these quarters, Pheolix was the only one who truly knew how to fight them.

But the rest of us could see if anything darted out at us.

Two different brands of blindness warred behind his eyes. Selena studied him in silence, then pressed past him. He grabbed the lacing of her corset, dragging her back. “I know where she is,” Selena whispered, her voice frenzied and thin.

“So do I,” Pheolix answered, his fist entrenched in her ties like a barb laid into skin. Dimas swept past them, taking the lead, and once again we were moving, hunkered over each other like a fucking night-dwelling centipede.

Unlike the towers, no wind crept through cracks of windows and shutters this deep in the foundation of the palace, nothing to cool my skin as I moved, stacked between Diara and Leal. I’d always hated how sound echoed down here. Solid rock in every direction, resonance should have directed our breaths and voices back to us. Instead, the servant’s quarters absorbed noise as if we were buried somewhere deep in space.

Ahead, a single door rested on its hinges, soft light from inside drenching the hall.

Diara glanced ahead at me, mint-green eyes round with worry.

Ano’s room.

I wished I could do what Maren could. Stretch my senses beyond walls, listen for heartbeats or voices or even the fucking groan of creaking wood as the palace shifted on its roots. Instead, I searched the side of Selena’s face for clues, half smothered by the dark. Her hands covered her mouth, frozen still until a guttering sob tumbled through the open door ahead.

Then, like a bird taking flight, she shot for the light.

51

Maren

“Stay,” Aegir whispered. “This pool you’re standing over, the side you’re standing on—"

“This is your throne.”

“It’s the side of the pool where the Queen of Venusia sits.”

I stopped him with a blunt hand raised in the air. Nausea churned in my belly as I glanced around, realizing what I’d done simply by sitting beside him. Here. On his dais.

“If I’ve given you the impression—”

“Oh, don’t do that.” His words were soft as silk sheets, but his voice held a rough grit, like sand in my bed. “You haven’t given me any impression. You’re still loyal to your human.”

“My husband.”

“Husband.” He scrunched his mouth and nose, lifting his shoulder in an offhand shrug. “A human word accompanied by a human paper signed by human priests?” He leaned forward. “A cordae between Naiads alters the soul. It changes our blood, binding us as mates forever.”

“I’m flattered,” I said, though it was hard to make the words sound anything but flat and dull when a wave of dizzying sick swept over my stomach.

“It’s not about flattery,” Aegir laughed. “Look at us. Look at what we could be together. Videres of Venus and Juile, side by side.”

“We can be side by side as allies.” I stood, and Aegir did too.

“I’ve waited for you. For years, I’ve waited for you. As soon as Cebrinne told me she would leave for Leihani, I understood what no one else did. Theia was matching Naiad blood with the people of the moon—people who hated sirens. She was creating something only a goddess can create. Sidra let Juile dwindle and die, but think of what I’m offering you, what you’d gain if we joined colonies. Males for your females—”

“My females don’t want males.” I almost laughed.

“Ah, so they’ll go on cordaeing each other and killing precious humans to reproduce. That must sit easily with you.”

I spun on my heel, sea silk sticking to my calves as I descended the stairs. He caught my arm halfway across the throne room.

“Think about it,” he started, letting me pull from his grasp.

“There’s little to think about.”