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Annassa Alea looked Chrysanthos in the eye. “Walk with me.”
The war mage returned her gaze. Lio wanted to wipe the cloying smile right off the Cordian’s face. How dare the man smile like that at a mage of Hespera whose power made his look like a candle before a moon?
“Gladly,” said the Dexion. “I intend to make the most of this rare occasion. There has never been a time when a mage of my cult has met with you, Ritual Firstblood, on better terms than my predecessors…and there never will be again.”
“You would be amazed how history can surprise you, were you to live long enough to watch it take shape.”
Aithouros’s heir fell into step beside the only surviving creator of the Hesperine race, and they walked out into the courtyard side-by-side.
The rest of the royal retinue eased amid the delegation to usher, herd, and otherwise engage the mortals. Lio went straight to Cassia’s side. With the Queens nearby, no one could be safer, but he still seethed from the mages’ threats. He would find out what Chrysanthos and Skleros had attempted. In the meantime, he would not let her out of his reach.
Lio bowed before his Grace. “Lady Cassia, allow me to escort you to House Annassa.”
“Thank you, Ambassador.” Her expression was merely courteous, but her aura was full of warmth, welcoming his nearness.
The guests bundled into the bespelled silk cloaks, gloves, and shoes Lio’s people had given them upon their arrival to protect them from Orthros’s polar climate. He and his fellow Hesperines then led the mortals out through the courtyard to the avenue behind the guest houses. There waited the caravan of sleighs that would carry them in comfort through the city. The teams of pure white boreian deer puffed out their clouds of breath and stamped their broad, cloven hooves upon the snow, making the silver bells on their harnesses jingle. Fluffs of fresh snowfall alighted on black silk seat cushions, only to fly away quickly in a fresh breeze.
Annassa Alea hopped up onto the driver’s bench of one of the lead sleighs. For a moment, Chrysanthos stood staring up at her with a strange expression on his face. His aura was at once confused and offended, as if it were the gravest transgression that she did not conform to his dreadful imaginings of her. He hesitated, then climbed in beside her. She held a conversation with him that Lio could not hear.
“I confess, Ambassador,” said Cassia, “I cannot begin to imagine what Annassa Alea and the Honored Master have to say to one another.”
“As to that, Lady Cassia, I can offer no insight. I can only say that no ambassador in the Queens’ service, however dedicated, can do justice to their diplomacy.”
As usual, Benedict clung to Cassia’s arm, and Eudias followed her like a spare hound. Lio could feel their apprehension, but Callen’s and Perita’s too. He blanketed Cassia’s escort in thelemantic reassurance and met her protectors’ posturing with patient courtesy.
His reward was to take the driver’s seat of their sleigh with Cassia beside him. Knight occupied all the space on her other side, leaving nowhere for Benedict to ride but behind them with the rest of Cassia’s retinue. With Cassia close at his side and her enemies in separate sleighs, some of Lio’s tension abated.
“Ambassador, I don’t see any reins,” Cassia remarked.
“The Blood Union makes a kinder guide than a bit. In any case, these teams know the city so well, we scarcely need to direct them.”
Annassa Soteira, leaving the driver’s seat to one of her retinue, settled into her sleigh with the mages of Kyria. Orthros already had at least one potential ally among the Kyrian delegation, Lio realized. He recognized Apprentice Ariadne’s aura from the night the Equinox Summit had ended. She was one of the mages who had secretly delivered Zoe and the other Eriphite children into the Hesperine embassy’s care so they could escape Tenebra.
The Queens shared a glance, and then the sleighs sailed into motion. The mortals found themselves on the tour of Selas with the Annassa as guides. The metal sleighs, large but light, swept along the snowy streets, shining under the spells lights that glowed inside the city’s stained glass lamps. The cavalcade was soon well beyond the Docks District.
Cassia looked all around her, taking in the homes and libraries and workshops. “Elder Firstblood Apollon’s deeds have shown him to be a mighty warrior, but the architectural style he founded shows him to be an artist of great imagination. I see his strength in these structures, but such elaborate fancy, too.”
“My father says he hopes his designs pay tribute to the Goddess’s majesty and beauty, but also her creativity.”
All but Cassia cast furtive glances at the towering buildings.
“Interiors veiled by stained glass,” said Cassia, “and exteriors guarded by fanged beasts of stone. I am all curiosity, Ambassador. What are these creatures with wings and horns, which cap your pillars and lurk above your archways?”
“Gargoyles,” Lio answered. “All fanged creatures in this world, such as snakes and cats, are sacred to Hespera, but gargoyles are her own familiars. Our sacred teachings hold she made them from her blood to guard her realm of Sanctuary from threats by other gods.”
“I see. They are your divine protectors.”
The looks on the other Tenebrans’ faces suggested they found them more terrifying than comforting.
“Do they…” Benedict ventured. “They aren’t her real gargoyles, are they, guarding your city?”
“Well,” Lio answered, “I’ve never seen one my father’s sculptures come to life myself, but the goddess may work any miracle she likes, I should think.”
The Tenebran warrior went pale, and by the way his hand fidgeted under his cloak, Lio suspected he was signing another glyph. When Callen pulled Perita a little closer to him, though, Lio regretted playing on the mortals’ fears.
“Gargoyles dwell in the Goddess’s realm,” Lio assured them. “Their task is to protect against other gods, not mortals.”
For mortals, Hespera’s followers had Hippolyta’s Stand. Aunt Lyta and Skleros rode together in vicious silence. Lio’s aunt looked diminutive across from the necromancer, but Skleros watched the Guardian of Orthros like one predator watches another. Tychon and Master Gorgos sat as far from the pair as the sleigh would allow. Her Stand regalia made it clear she was not there to socialize. She had her voluminous, dark auburn hair bound out of her way in her speires. Mak and Lyros were a silent threat sharing the drivers’ seat. Lyros might be the shorter and leaner of the pair, but his height and strength outclassed the Tenebran warriors by far.
