Page 52 of A Sea of Fate and Starfire

Only a month later, he walked with assurance, as though the walls moved around him rather than the opposite. A red-toned luster had broken through the roots of his scalp, and even the length of his hair seemed thicker, darker. Everything about him glowed brighter from his skin to his teeth, which were no longer chipped. I wondered whether he was skilled in healing, if he could somehow rebuild the calcium in his mouth.

The only part of him that remained the same was his eyes, a cloudy pair of ghosts that swerved as he tracked the people who spoke, a trickster’s smile shadowing his lips.

We’d decided to conference at Selena’s table. She only owned two chairs, but eleven of us stood together within her quarters. Seating devices were pulled from all corners of the room: two from Thaan’s table, a footrest from Selena’s reading corner, a bench that belonged to her vanity.

The tallest in the room, Kye and Hadrian offered to claim a place along the wall behind me. Maps were spread across the table, and I was surprised at the span of maps Selena pulled; a full canvas from the northern tips of Rivea to the eastern islands of Cypria and Cressi.

“Twenty-five years ago, almost twenty-six,” Aegir began, tapping a finger over the inked words Venusian Sea, “Thaan sent three Naiads into my waters to lure me into a trap. Two hive heirs and a gnat.”

He paused politely, glancing across the map at me, as though assuming I’d ask him to clarify the words. My back stood tall and proud in my chair, but annoyance scratched against the façade of my ego, that he’d correctly guessed my unfamiliarity with the ocean-born vernacular.

“What’s a hive heir?” I finally asked, deadpan.

“You are, my Queen,” Olinne said softly. “A Prizivac able to take the throne, or one who has taken the throne already.”

The table waited a collective moment. Selena had offered me the chair at the head of the table, facing the various parchments toward me and directing everyone else to take up the seats along the sides and back, a choice I had expected to vex Aegir. But the Venusian sat on a velvet pouf with his elbows propped against the table’s edge, assessing the mountains limned in ink.

I let my head tilt slightly to the side, unbothered by the thought that my expressionless voice might be considered rude. “And a gnat?”

“A drone.” Olinne shifted uncomfortably, stealing a glance at Nori. “A Naiad without water-calling. I didn’t realize there were any still alive today. Sidra didn’t practice making them, and most ocean-born Naiads wouldn’t trust them. We’ve never met one.”

Pheolix had angled his chair sideways, the backrest wedged along his ribs as he rotated a short knife playfully in his fingers. “You have now,” he said.

23

Maren

Selena’s brows pinched at the sight of the knife in Pheolix’s hand. “Put that away.”

Nori stiffened. “You’re a drone?”

Pheolix’s mouth quirked. “I am indeed.”

Seated around Selena’s table, no one said a word, and it wasn’t until the fine hair along the back of my arms began to rise that I’d realized the air had changed in the room. Strained and quietly ringing with a sense of lurking threat, like we’d taken a wrong turn and found ourselves in a cave filled with hidden vipers. A lethal mistake waiting behind each potential step.

Olinne pressed her spine into the back of her chair, distancing herself from him. Aitne froze in place, eyes wide. Nori placed her hands on the table, ready to push to her feet.

“Prove you are,” my Oculos challenged, though she didn’t sound as though she wanted him to. “Eclipse us.”

Across from them, Cebrinne slouched, eyeing the inked shape of Cypria with exasperation. Selena tucked the corner of her jaw into the crook of her fingers, lips curved, and even Aegir watched with subtle amusement, the green in his eyes somehow less sharp.

Pheolix sat a little higher. His unseeing eyes hovered across the line of our faces. “If I kill Selena’s plants, she’ll make me sleep on the balcony outside.”

Selena waved a hand, unconcerned. “Just keep it to the table.”

The temperature dropped a few degrees, and Selena’s apartment suddenly felt much smaller than it had before. Like wooden walls, shrinking ceilings. Aitne sent me a nervous glance, a soft chill lacing across my shoulders.

I tensed, a strain in my wrists and fingers as I waited for something to happen. Nothing did, and yet my nerves fired like I was under attack. I sat in expectant silence, my body teetering between the need to run or fight.

No one spoke as the table grew colder. I pulled my hand from the wooden surface to flex my fingers, the simple movement biting against the stretch of my tendons. A ring of condensation framed the print of my palm, and I frowned, looking down at it before becoming aware everyone was, once again, watching me.

“Is he going to do anything?” Kye asked, still leaning against the wall with darkened eyes, face bright and warm against the white wall. My own skin was not so vivid. It paled with cold, the nail beds of my fingers a thin shade of blue.

“Drones freeze the air,” I guessed aloud, flicking my gaze at Aegir and Selena for confirmation.

Nori’s chin lowered. “Try calling to water.”

I did, and nothing answered. I pushed harder, and Pheolix’s mouth twitched.