Page 89 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Her dream. Her desire. Everything she’d spent a decade working for.

It’d been hers before. At such a young age.

“Who’s admiral now?” Kora couldn’t resist the question. Aryn smiled in return.

“Skylar took up both posts after the Mist. I’m sure you could talk her into sharing.”

“Oh, good.” Kora sat back. “That’ll be a fun conversation.”

“Just pretend you’re talking to yourself,” Aryn commented. Kora lightly swatted him, and they both laughed as she pocketed her next gift, adding it to her filling satchel as her heart slowly mended.

38

Kora

The crowd milled around a raised wooden stage, away from the docks. A shimmering bronze banner had been erected above, in celebration of Hallow’s Day, and beneath were three palladium goblets embedded with moonstones on separate stone pedestals. Aryn hovered beside Kora, his sharp gaze transfixed on Aerion as he stood beside Zephyr and Skylar upon the makeshift dais.

“Why don’t you try talking to him?” Kora whispered, as strangers stood way too close for her liking. She pulled her hood down, making sure her hair was hidden beneath.

“There’re things that happened in the past . . . he doesn’t understand why. Decisions that I had made. The day before the Mist, we’d had a huge fight that morning, and I’d jumped on Leto’s ship for some space.” Aryn’s voice caught and he cleared his throat.

“And you couldn’t get back to him.” Aryn’s sorrow was palpable. Even now, his stare transcended desire as he wholly focused on Aerion.

“How do you move forward when one of you lives in the past?” Kora brushed his hand, offering a gentle squeeze.

Zephyr matched his children in swaths of brown and crisp white, reminding Kora of autumn and delicious chocolate. A crown made of dazzling silver rested atop his white hair, its sharp ends meeting beads of floating pearls. To the left of the dais stood Cassidy, surrounded by various striking colours of pirates.

“This is the annual ceremony for Hallow’s Day,” Aryn whispered quickly, changing the subject. “Whenever you feel power, you must kneel. I’ll be back soon.”

Kora bristled as Aryn slipped away, appearing to Aerion’s right below the raised dais. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, suddenly aware of the crowd surrounding her, the wave of faces that could potentially recognise her as a saviour . . . or enemy.

“We thank you, Thanos, for shepherding those we have lost to Umbra,” Zephyr spoke clearly. “For ferrying their souls to the dark in absence of your executer. We recognise your mark of death.” Zephyr raised his hand and a burst of air swept across the crowd. Kora instantly dropped as heads bobbed like a sea wave, the sound of knees smacking the cobbled street vibrating through her.

But they’d all turned to face the south, towards the end of the city. Kora blushed, hiding beneath her hood as she faced north. She gasped as Zephyr’s power coursed through her, crushing her shoulders with a relentless weight that caused her hands to grip the ground as she tried to breathe through it, in fear her lungs would collapse.

“We bless the southern wind,” the crowd murmured and Kora jolted in surprise, following their lead as they all stood once again. Zephyr stepped forward, taking a sip from the central goblet. What looked like blood trickled from the side of his lips, staining his beard, and Kora cringed, looking to see if anyone else noticed.

“We thank you, Thanos, for welcoming new life into our world.” Skylar stepped forward next, her power carrying her voice so she whispered into everyone’s individual ears. “For blessing those whose wombs were barren, and sheltering the infirm to see the next day. We recognise your mark of life.”

Like her father, Skylar released a blast of power, but instead of a crushing weight, it was like spears of air whooshing past, and Kora gripped onto her hood to prevent it from falling back. The crowd rotated, facing the ocean, and Kora’s knees groaned in protest as she bowed her head.

“We bless the eastern wind,” they spoke in perfect unison.

She could see where this was going as Skylar drank from the goblet to the left and Aerion stepped forward.

“We thank you, Thanos, for bringing us into this new year, and we celebrate your generosity by drinking the blood of the gods, releasing our essence back unto you. We recognise your mark of power.” Aerion’s face was stern, and as Kora knelt in anticipation, the cobbles biting at her skin, Aerion’s release of power was pleasant. A gentle wave, winding through the crowd, tickling shins and chins, and resulting in a few squeals from children.

“We bless the northern wind.”

Standing up a third time, Kora scanned the dais and frowned. Surely Raiden was the fourth wind as the only remaining elemental of his family? Aerion stepped back from the goblet, wiping his mouth and she grimaced at the blood.

“It’s not real,” the deep, buttery voice brushed against her mind. “They use wine now, instead of actual blood.” A delightful shiver consumed her, and for once, she welcomed the intrusion as the enchanting scent of rain after a storm wrapped around her.

Raiden’s shoulder brushed against hers as he stepped into line, donning a dark brown cloak obscuring his face.

“Shouldn’t you be up there?” she whispered.

He shook his head gently.