Soldier, Brother, Sorcerer. Morgan Rice

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      “The south courtyard, waiting for his execution. You see, you’re no different from us.”

      Ceres threw her from the throne to the floor. “Someone take her before I do something I’ll regret.”

      Ceres ran from the hall, pushing her way past the last dregs of the fight around her. Behind her, she heard Queen Athena laughing.

      “You’re too late! You’ll never get there in time to save him.”

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      Stephania sat watching the horizon, doing her best to ignore the bouncing of the ship and trying to judge the moment when she would have to murder the boat’s captain.

      That she would have to do it was without doubt. Felene had been like a gift from the gods when Stephania and her handmaiden had met the captain in Delos. Felene had been a way out of the city, and a way to get to Felldust. All sent by Thanos’s own hand.

      But because she was Thanos’s, she had to die. The very fact that she was loyal enough to convey them this far meant that she was too loyal to trust with everything Stephania intended to do next. The only question now was the timing.

      That was a balancing act. Stephania looked up, seeing the sea birds flying overhead.

      “They’re a sign we’re getting closer to shore, aren’t they?” she asked.

      “Very good, princess,” Felene said, moving around from where she was trying to teach Elethe to fish off the bow rail, standing slightly closer than she needed to. The familiarity of her tone made Stephania’s hackles rise, but she did her best to disguise it.

      “So we’ll be there soon?”

      “A little while, and we’ll sight land,” Felene said. “Another after that, and we’ll reach the fishing village where Elethe says we’ll find her uncle’s people. Why? Eager to stop throwing up?”

      “Eager to do a lot of things,” Stephania replied. Although putting her feet back on dry land was one of them. Morning sickness did not mix well with seasickness.

      It was just one of the reasons she needed to kill Felene sooner rather than later. Sooner or later, she would realize that Stephania was pregnant, and that didn’t fit with the story she’d told about Lucious forcing her to drink his potion.

      When would she guess? It couldn’t have been more obvious to Stephania that she was pregnant now, her dress feeling stretched tight across her expanding belly, her body seeming to change in so many ways as the life grew inside her. She put a hand on her abdomen automatically, wanting to protect the life inside her, wanting it to grow and become strong. Yet Felene continued to spend her time with Elethe, so easily distracted by a pretty face.

      That was another thing to consider when judging when to act. Yes, Stephania needed to leave it long enough for them to close in on land, but the longer she left it, the greater the danger was that her handmaiden’s loyalties might be tested. As useful as Felene might be, Elethe would be far more useful when it came to finding the sorcerer. More than that, the handmaiden was hers.

      For now though, Stephania waited, because she didn’t want to have to pilot this tub when there was no land in sight. She waited and she watched while Felene helped her handmaiden land a struggling fish, beheading it with a wickedly sharp-looking knife. That she looked over while she did it only told Stephania that she was running out of time.

      Thoughts of what she was there to do drove Stephania on, hardening her resolve. Felldust held the sorcerer who had killed Ancient Ones. Felldust would provide her with a way to bring down Ceres. After that… after that, she could deal with Thanos, forging her child into the weapon she needed.

      “It didn’t need to come to this,” Stephania said, standing so that she could look out over the rail.

      “What’s that, princess?” Felene asked.

      “I said, is that land over there?” Stephania asked.

      It was, the black dust of the coast rising up on the edge of the horizon. At first, it was just a faint line above the waves, rising up like some rocky sun until it started to fill Stephania’s view.

      “Aye,” Felene said, moving to the rail and looking out. “We’ll soon have you safe and sound on land, princess.”

      Stephania’s hand dipped into her cloak. With the infinite care only known to those who worked with poisons, she palmed a dart. “Felene, there’s something I’ve wanted to say to you since we set off.”

      “What’s that, princess?” Felene said with a mocking smile.

      “It’s simple,” Stephania said with a smile of her own. “Do not call me princess!”

      Her hand flashed around, the dart glinting in the sun as she went for the exposed skin of Felene’s face.

      Pain flared in her wrist and it took Stephania a moment to realize that Felene had brought her elbow up, letting Stephania’s arm collide with it. Stephania’s hand spasmed open, and she saw the dart tumble over the side.

      By then, pain was already flaring in her cheek as Felene slapped her, hard enough that Stephania reeled. This wasn’t the delicate, ladylike slap of some noble girl. It was a sailor’s blow, and it had weight behind it that sat Stephania down hard on the planks of the deck.

      “Do you think I’m stupid?” Felene demanded. “Do you think I don’t know you’ve been working up to this since we left?”

      “I – ” Stephania began, but the ringing in her ears wouldn’t let her keep going.

      “You’re lucky you’re carrying Thanos’s child, or I’d feed you to the sharks right now!” Felene snapped. “Oh yes, I’ve spotted the signs! And now I’m debating whether to sell you on to a slaver, kill you outright as soon as Thanos’s child is born, or just call the whole thing a bad deal and set off back for Delos!”

      Stephania started to stand, and Felene pushed her back down. “Oh no, princess, you can stay where you’re put. It’s safer for all of us that way, until I find enough rope to lash you to the mast.”

      Stephania looked past her then, to Elethe. She gave just the barest of nods, hoping that it would be enough.

      It was. Her handmaiden drew a short, curved blade and leapt forward. It seemed that Felene was ready for that too, though, because she spun and parried the first stroke, her own knife in her hand again.

      “Pity,” Felene said. “We could have had a lot of fun. I survived the Isle of Prisoners. You think I can’t handle you?”

      Stephania had to sit and admire the fight that followed for a moment, and not just because her head was still ringing from Felene’s slap. Normally, she had no time for the play of blades, or the carefully honed skills of warriors. These two, however, made their knives dance in the sun as they fought, hands trapping one another’s arms, looking for angles. Stephania saw Felene go for a low kick, then dodge back from a swipe. She moved close to Elethe, grappling with her as they both sought to thrust their blades home.

      That was when Stephania stood, drawing a knife of her own and thrusting it into Felene’s back.

      Stephania saw her fall to her knees, her face a picture of surprise as she put her hand СКАЧАТЬ