Page 6
If he can see that in me, who else might?
The idea settles heavily, a new weight to carry, and with it, the understanding that it could put me in far greater danger than I’d imagined.
He takes a step back and crosses his arms, drawing my gaze to his jagged black tattoos. The lines start at his wrists and snake up his arms, half hidden beneath rolled sleeves, reemerging above the edge of the dark cloak wrapped tightly at his neck. His silver hair, though still tied in a rough knot, looks cleaner now—lighter, less tangled, and even the short beard has been tamed, trimmed close to the angles of his jaw. But no matter how many layers he straightens or scrubs clean, there’s a wildness about him. It’s in the rigidness of his stance. The way his eyes never stop tracking. As if the chains are gone, but he hasn’t let himself believe it yet.
Could someone who’s endured what he has truly inflict that same pain on another? Somehow, I don’t think so.
“If I did have the power you imagine, what would it matter to you?” I say finally.
“Because suppressing theïkós has consequences. The most dire of which is death.”
The air seems to vanish from the cabin.
Death.
I stare at him as the word echoes in my mind, but before I can even begin to process the enormity of what he’s said, his voice cuts through the haze.
“I’d like to propose a bargain.”
I blink, my thoughts fluttering like startled birds desperate to find a perch.
A faint throb along my breastbone reminds me of the last and only bargain I’ve ever made. The memory of Sphinx’s ancient eyes and sharp smile flashes through my mind, along with the searing pain as she carved the mark into my skin. I still don’t fully understand what it meant, what it bound me to, or what price I might have paid if I’d failed to keep my end of the deal. I’d never heard of bargains before—not that I recall, at least. But Raven clearly had. In hindsight, his relief when the mark flared with golden light and vanished should have made that obvious. But I’d been too distracted by the thought of never seeing him again to think to ask, and with everything that has happened since, I haven’t had the chance to find out more.
“What could you possibly offer me?”
“I can help you control your theïkós,” he says. “I’ll teach you to command it. To make it bow to you, instead of letting it devour you from the inside out.”
My pulse quickens. “And in return?”
“You’ll help me get back home.”
I cross my arms and raise an incredulous brow. “What makes you think I care about helping you again?”
The corner of Lyxander’s mouth twitches.
“I’m under no illusion that you do.” He tilts his head, studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s halfway through solving. “But your theïkós won’t stay contained forever. How long do you think you can hold out before it overwhelms you entirely?”
“Why do you need my help, anyway? For all I know, this so-called bargain of yours is another trap.”
“I need to cross to the other side of the realm, all while evading enemies from both the Southern and Eastern Kingdoms. You’ve already proved yourself more than capable, and your skills, along with your knowledge of the Aviary, could make all the difference.” Lyxander lifts a hand, tugging down the front of his cloak to reveal the collar beneath. His mouth twists into a wry, self-deprecating smile. “And, as you can see, I’m at a disadvantage.”
I stifle my wince as the cruel metal gleams in the low light, my stomach roiling as the phantom sensation of a collar presses against my throat.
When I meet his gaze again, all I see is raw intensity. Desperation. Something I’ve seen in my own reflection. I want to hate him—I try to hate him—but as I hold his stare, my own pain and fear rise to the surface, twisting uncomfortably close to recognition.
I know all too well what that collar is inflicting on him, and more important, I know how to remove it. But if I’m going to accept this bargain, it might be wiser to keep that knowledge as a secret weapon in my arsenal. A means to maintain even a sliver of control.
“You could hire a mercenary.” The retort is weak, even to my own ears.
“In case you hadn’t realized, I’m a bit short on the necessary funds,” he says dryly. “And any old sword for hire wouldn’t be able to tell me the way your birds hunt.”
I press my lips together, turning his words over in my mind. I’d managed to secure a pouch of drachma from Kallias to fund Lyxander’s escape, yet another thing he must have taken, along with my dagger. But he’s right—it won’t stretch far enough to cover the journey and the cost of hiring a mercenary. Not that one could give him what he wants.
“Take some time to think it through.” He lets the silence stretch, his next words hanging in the air like a blade poised to drop. “You have until we dock.”
With that, he turns and strides for the door, as if he hasn’t presented an ultimatum that could shape the course of my life. Or my death.
I don’t trust him. I don’t want to trust him. But if I don’t take this chance, what else can I do? I can refuse, cling to my pride, and let fear dictate my path—or I can seize the chance to claim my power as my own, before it claims me.
