Page 96 of A Crown of Hopes and Sorrows

Poseidon’s expression didn’t change. Five heartbeats passed, and he inclined his head. “Very well.”

I followed him into the cave where everyone stood around Valerian, his color ivory, his eyes closed. A chill swept down my spine. He looked dead. Epiphany had grown quiet, her puffed cheeks shadows beneath her red-rimmed eyes. Her fingers trembled as she brushed over his jaw.

Poseidon walked over, nodding towards Hades before pressing a hand over Valerian’s heart and using the other to dislodge the knife. An ivory shimmer, like sea foam under sunlight, swept over Val’s skin and he sputtered and sucked in a breath, his color flooding back into his flesh again.

Epiphany clapped her hands over her mouth and then dropped against his chest, wrapping her arms around him even as she winced from the motion. “Oh, Val.”

Poseidon sighed and laid his palm on Epiphany, the same magic coursing its way over her, melting away the scratches and bruises.

Valerian pulled Epiphany closer. “It’s okay, Pip.”

“Oh, gods.” She wept again and pressed her nose into his shoulder. Valerian dropped his head against the ground and rubbed his fingers down her back. Relief flooded through me. I didn't know if that would actually work, and suddenly the fear I had shoved down in favor of action fizzed through me, leaving me shaky.

Poseidon walked over to me. “Do you feel I have paid the debt owed you, then, Artemis?”

I frowned. “No. But I thank you, anyway.”

“Very well.”

He turned to leave, giving another nod to Hades and Persephone who stood speaking quietly together. But I followed him to the gaping mouth of the cave. “There’s one more thing I ask from you, and then I promise to not call you again.”

“What is that?”

The stallion knickered on the beach, chuffing its tremendous hooves into the sand. “I want your horse.”

Poseidon’s composure dropped, and he crossed his arms. “That’s my best creature.”

I could punch him since the animal clearly had more value to him than I did, but he had just saved Valerian’s life. I cleared my throat. “It feels like an appropriate gift for a daughter, then. I’ve taken a liking to horses recently, and I think one befitting a goddess would be ideal.”

Poseidon’s jaw jumped, and he stared at me for another long stretch before nodding. “Very well. You may have him.” He clicked his tongue, and the stallion galloped up. Poseidon pressed his nose to the horse’s snout and whispered to him, scratching behind his ear before turning back to me. “He’s deeply intelligent and immortal, but headstrong. Don’t attempt to saddle him; it would prove fruitless. His name is Arion.”

“Hello, Arion,” I said. The horse shifted towards me, his bright, perceptive eyes studying me. “I think we’re going to get along well.”

Arion whickered, and Poseidon sighed but offered him another pat before receding back to the ocean. I trailed my fingers down Arion’s fur, the velvety texture of it softer than any other animal’s hide I’d touched. Arion gave his body a shake, energy vibrating through his muscles.

Hecate stepped up beside me, lifting her face to the stars wreathed in a scarf of gray clouds. She crossed her arms as her eyes skimmed over the stallion. “Did your father leave you something?”

I smiled, brushing a finger along his long nose. “He did.”

She nodded. “An immortal horse born of the sea seems a fitting companion for Artemis, high goddess of the moon.”

My heart raced, but then I lifted my face to the sky as well.

And I thought perhaps she had a point.

39

Epiphany

Every moment from the time we left the cave, as we crossed the sea, when we made our way back to Sappho’s residence, and when I finally separated into my private chambers, seemed fuzzy and like a dream. I kept expecting myself to wake up at home, my blankets tangled around my legs from an unsettled night.

Attendants drew a hot bath, and once they left, I peeled off my filthy clothes, easing into it. Poseidon had healed me, but phantom aches racked through my body, my shoulder throbbing. I sank beneath the water, coughing as the soap I’d generously poured into the tub burned my sinuses.

I scrubbed at the blood, and it dripped off of me in dark tides. But the dried, caked blood under my fingernails would not come out. I picked at them, peeling flakes that fluttered towards the bath like crimson snowflakes. Gods, most of that was likely Valerian’s.

Because he had almost died.

A tree clattered against the frosted window in the room, and I untangled my hair, starting at the ends. It would probably take hours to get all the debris and knots loose.