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Eirene handed Grace the torch, and set to work unlocking a heavy wrought iron gate while Milos prowled behind us, eyes glinting occasionally in the firelight as she passed. Riot and I jumped in to help Eirene push the gates open, and it was reassuring to see Eirene go through the process of locking it up again after we’d filed inside.
“This is a very old home,” Eirene explained as we approached the looming structure, the details impossible to make out with just the one torch lighting our immediate surroundings. “My family has lived here for generations. Since the home was not so modern to begin with, I think I have gotten by better than some recently,” she added drily, unlocking the front door and letting us inside.
Eirene took the torch back, leading us into a small living room. We paused at the heavy wooden door, and I ran my fingertips over the rough textured wall. Was it stone? This place really must be old.
“Come, I will stoke the fire,” Eirene announced, kneeling in front of a cast iron fireplace in the corner and opening the door with a creak, stoking the embers and fussing with the wood until the flame was built higher again. Eirene climbed to her feet with a groan and lit some candles.
I’d been right about the stone—the entire house looked like it had been carved out of it. Low, uneven steps wound up behind the fireplace to a second level, and while the rock was smooth, it sort of undulated like waves from the wall to the floor, without any sharp lines separating them.
There was a bench built along one wall with some mismatched cushions on it, and a faded velvet couch and armchair, with a few rugs scattered on the ground to cover the stone floor.
“Upstairs is a suite for you to use. There is another fireplace in the bedroom, but one of you strong daimons will have to carry the wood up; my bones are too old for this.”
“Of course,” Grace agreed, taking the torch Eirene handed her. “Anything we can do to be of assistance.”
Eirene gave her a weary smile, collapsing in the armchair. In this light, the deep lines in her face were more pronounced, as were the dark shadows under her eyes. I didn’t see it before, but it was clear now that she was in mourning.
“I will be down here,” Eirene said, gesturing toward double doors that presumably led to the rest of the house. “Once the fire is hotter, I will cook for us. Feel free to go explore, though there isn’t much to see anymore. There was a beautiful garden, before the endless night…”
Grace moved to comfort Eirene again, but the old woman waved her off. “Go upstairs, rest, wash, relax. Hold one another tight and wait for the goddesses to decide if we all get to live or die.”
Chapter 19
Eirene’shousewassmalland ancient, yet it felt like a palatial mansion to us. The upstairs housed a surprisingly enormous bedroom, with a huge bed that Grace had blushingly explained was standard in agathos homes.
Wild got the fire going in the open hearth in the bedroom, illuminating the room, and we spent a couple of hours grazing on the snacks we had and heating water so we could each wash. Bullet had snuck downstairs to find Eirene fast asleep in the chair, and had topped up the wood on the fire she was sitting next to. She was pretty ancient to be making that long ass walk to and from the temple, and I wasn’t surprised she needed a break.
Where were her kids? Did they all live far away from here? Why was she all alone?
“Still asleep?” I asked Wild as he came back into the room. He nodded once, pressing the door quietly shut behind him so we didn’t wake her. I tended to the fire while he sat down at the head of the bed and Grace flopped down in the center, sighing happily.
“I’ve taken beds for granted,” Grace announced, smiling dreamily at the ceiling. “Never again. I have a whole new appreciation for beds. And warmth. And running water and electricity.”
“Hear, hear,” Bullet replied, wriggling back against the pillows next to Wild. “I really hope the goddesses make up their minds soon, but I’m not going to complain about a few hours of rest and relaxation.”
He was almost fully asleep the moment he stopped talking, and we all watched in silence for a moment, holding our breath. I was confident that I wasn’t the only one waiting to see a trickle of blood from his nose, or see the color suddenly leach out of his skin again.
“He’s okay,” Grace whispered, watching him carefully, twisting the opal ring on her finger.
She glanced up as Wild signed to her, assuring her that he’d stay with Bullet.
Grace turned to face me, giving me an impressively stern look that made me want to bite her lip. “You and Dare need to sleep.”
“Dare first,” I replied, bumping him with my shoulder, making him stumble against the bed. There was probably enough room for us, but my mind was too wound up to sleep. “I’m going to walk around for a bit, check the place out.”
“I’m coming with you,” Grace said decisively, wrapping herself in the blanket she’d used to travel here.
“Grace, you need to rest—’
“I had a rest at the temple,” she interrupted, tilting her chin up stubbornly. She wasn’t the same agathos I’d met in Milton all those weeks ago—the one who’d hidden her blush behind her hands when we’d sat on her couch getting to know each other. She’d grown in confidence, and I loved that for her. What I didn’t love was the world-weariness in her expression, but I wasn’t sure there was anything to be done about that. The lived experiences that had put that look in Grace’s eyes couldn’t be taken back.
“Come on then, Gracie,” I sighed, tucking the blanket tighter around her and draping an arm over her shoulders. “Though I want it noted for the record that I think you should be resting.”
“Noted,” Dare replied instantly, making Grace laugh quietly. I almost rolled my eyes at the satisfied look on his face—apparently making Grace laugh was a point of pride for him.
We made our way through the quiet house using one of the candles for light, heading out through the cozy dining room to a covered patio. I set the light down on a side table before sitting back on the outdoor day bed, encouraging Grace to lie down with her head on my lap. She sighed contentedly as I began working my fingers through her hair, tackling the tangles that had formed over the past few days.
What was beyond the patio? A garden? Or what would have been a garden, before the sun disappeared. If our little rendezvous with the deities went well and the sun came back, would the plants grow again or had the damage already been done? It’d be a real kick in the teeth to go through all this, convince Nyx to lift the darkness, then die of starvation.
