Shadows on the Aegean (68 page)

Incredibly, Cheftu was sucking on her fingers … ouch! with his teeth! Chloe jerked her hand away, contacting flesh with a
scream. Darkness, sulfur, Cheftu wasn’t in hell with her. Chloe kicked out instinctively, and her ankle was caught.

“If I had known you were alive, Sibylla, I would not have tried,” a woman’s voice said. Chloe struggled to place it, low,
husky, almost masculine. She heard a whine that had nothing to do with humans. Hot breath, long, sloppy tongues …

“Ir—Irmentis?”

“Who threw you down here?”

“Ileana.”

The woman laughed, bitterly. “It would be a justice if all the
skia
she has created haunted her at once.” The dogs were panting. They threw Irmentis’ dogs in here, too?

“Why are you here?”

“The Kela-Tenata thought I killed my brother.”

“Who? Phoebus?”

“Aye. My brother?”

“He lives. He’s fine.” What a very weird conversation to be having in utter darkness with hound breath in your face!

“Then he has left me here as punishment for not returning his
pothos.”

Not sure she wanted to hear more about irresistible longings, Chloe got to her feet, her hands outstretched against hot, furry
bodies.

“Would you like some water?” the huntress asked. Greedily Chloe slurped it down.

“How are you living down here?” Chloe asked.

She felt Irmentis’ shrug. “I have always lived in the dark. Here is really no different than my grove. I have my hounds,”
she said with warmth.

Chloe heard voices around them and then heard Irmentis’ sniffing, then the dogs’ sniffing. “Someone is dying,” she said. “Come
quickly.”

Are we the graveyard detail?
Chloe didn’t ask, she just followed, wondering how she could help. “By the way, where did you get fresh water?”

“The lowest level. There is a well.”

Chloe was thinking a well on the lowest level of a dungeon was ridiculous as she tried to follow Irmentis and her four-legged
entourage through the darkness. The huntress stepped confidently, and Chloe followed, stumbling on the changing turf, trying
to visualize the pathway. Lots of left turns; familiar. What was the pattern?

They stopped.

“Do you have a blade?” Irmentis asked in the constant darkness. Chloe began to feel a little nervous. Something stank, a sickly
sweet smell. The dogs were going nuts! “They took mine before they threw me,” the woman explained.

“Nay, I do not.”

“Very well, you take the other side. He’ll be tough, but fairly fresh. We’d best go before the hounds.”

Before Chloe’s mind could interpret it, she heard a sound she would never forget, the sound of human teeth sinking into human
flesh. Irmentis sighed as she chewed noisily, and Chloe ran. Down the darkness until she felt the floor beneath her drop away
and she was sliding into midnight.

T
WO DAYS AGO
C
HEFTU HAD RECEIVED A MESSAGE
that Chloe’s ship had landed at Hydroussa. The note was not from Chloe, but rather a serf saying she arrived. Now, today,
another message that she was lost at sea.

Not for a moment did he believe that. She was alive; moreover she was nearby. At night he could almost sense her calling out
to him.

Aztlan was in chaos. Cheftu had gotten back to the main island the day the harbor sank, but not before the city of Daphne
had effectively emptied itself on the slopes of Mount Apollo. Like chicks under a hen’s wing, the citizens fled for the hills,
fearing the water’s rage.

At some point in that night the bowl of the bay had crumbled utterly. Not a ship was left. Kallistae was now a much larger
island in the middle of a very deep sea. Even if it were still there, the port would be useless, impossible to anchor in.
How such a thing had happened, Cheftu could not explain, just marvel.

The moon was out tonight, shining on the distant waters. The palace was full to overflowing, for those who had not fled to
the mountain had run here. Cheftu had been taking care of a young Mariner who’d gotten trampled in the panic, among many others.
Where was Chloe?

“Do you gloat in the moonlight?”

Cheftu sighed and turned around. Niko. Couldn’t the man be satisfied with ruling Aztlan through his patron? “Why would I gloat?
Aztlan is destroying itself, yet the Council refuses to meet.”

“I think you are more concerned about the whereabouts of a certain clan chieftain.”

Cheftu licked his lips. “Why would I be concerned?”

“Possibly because Ileana had her thrown into the Labyrinth?”

Cheftu laughed, genuinely amused. “Why would I care? Tell your tales to someone who will believe you.”

“You laugh at me? I’ve seen the way you look at her. Don’t dare laugh at me, for I am the one who knows! You may have deceived
Spiralmaster, but I have the stones! I have the elixir! I visited the island!”

Rubbing his face, Cheftu shrugged. “Do not tell me falsehoods about Sibylla, and I will not laugh.”

“The stones say she will die.”

“What stones?”

“The talking stones.”

Cheftu stilled. Stones had been mentioned in the chamber where he’d undergone the various testings. Mystical stones that enabled
the Aztlantu to ask questions of the former god of this place. “Take some wine with me?”

“You think I am such a fool as to drink your poison?”

“Nay. I would think you know I’m not such a fool as to murder you in my own apartments,” Cheftu said acerbically, stepping
away from the window and pouring a cup of wine. “Tell me about this island.”

“You cannot find it,” Niko said, strutting around the room, touching various objects, running his fingers over the furnishings.
He thought this would be his chamber, his possessions, Cheftu realized. This is painful to him.

“I cannot imagine that I would.”

“I was taken there, taken to the altar with the archway and the colored stone pavements.”

Coughing, Cheftu asked, “Archway?”

“Aye. As fine as anything built by the Scholomance. Red stone that reached into the heavens, protecting the place where the
speaking stones lay. Their god gave me a vision, inviting me to join him.”

Cheftu somewhat doubted the veracity of the invitation, but he wanted Niko to continue talking. A red stone archway, could
that be the way out of here? Out of this time? Was this the counterpart of the gateway in Egypt that had ultimately delivered
him to this myth-shrouded island? Cheftu hoped it was a sign to leave Aztlan.

Someone knocked on his door and Niko opened it. “My master!” a serf said. “Eumelos has fallen ill!
Hreesos
commands your attendance.” With a smug smile, Niko bade Cheftu a cool, confident farewell and followed the serf out. Cheftu
closed the doors behind them and leaned against the wood.

There was a doorway; all he had to do was find his wife.

N
IKO’S HANDS TREMBLED AS HE TOUCHED
E
UMELOS
. The boy was not hot, he was not vomiting, but he was sick. Phoebus’ expression was taut, his eyes pleading. He knew. Eumelos
had the illness, the plague, that had struck the
hequetai
and was decimating the populace.

“Where has he been these past days?” Niko asked.

“He stayed with the priests for a few days, then rejoined me. He was well, until he fell last night.” Phoebus swallowed audibly,
and Niko pulled back the linen sheeting. Ataxia was setting in, already Eumelos’ wiry body was twisting, his shoulder and
arm held awkwardly.

It had struck so quickly!

“Do something, Niko,” Phoebus pleaded. “You are the best, the brightest. Please, help my son.” Niko had never heard Phoebus
sound so weak, so needy. Part of him wanted Phoebus to fight for him like that, the other part wanted to heal Eumelos and
receive Phoebus’ adulation. Yet nothing could be done. They had seen that. Once death set in—

The elixir!

Niko covered the boy, trying to stop his shivering. “He will live, Phoebus,” he said. Though he hated to touch Ileana, the
elixir had saved Phoebus from certain death. Would it do the same for Eumelos? If Niko saved Eumelos, then surely Phoebus
would love him, Niko, again.

“You swear to me?”

Niko looked into the weeping face of his dear friend. He touched Phoebus’ pale skin, still darker than his own. “By the Spiral
and the Shell, I swear it. I will return. Do not leave his side.”

Running from the room, Niko stopped a serf and gave him a message, then ran down the steps to the laboratory. He would look
for the elixir, see if he could uncover Spiralmaster’s hiding place. If that failed, he would mate with Ileana and take it
from her.

Eumelos must live so Phoebus would be Niko’s again.

She arrived faster than he expected. Niko spun around.

“Do you seek this?” She held out the vial, and Niko’s hands clenched.

“I need more. Your grandson is dying.”

“Children often die. There are always more,” she said. “He’s no blood relation to me, at any rate. Are you willing to agree
to the terms?”

“I said as much in my message.”

“You are fortunate I came on such a rude, flimsy request,” she said coldly.

Niko ground his teeth. “My apologies, mistress.” Slowly she smiled. Niko forced one foot before the other, walking to her.
“What must I do to have the whole supply, Ileana?”

She laughed. “You think I will give you all? You are an idealistic fool, are you not?”

He placed his hands on her breasts, squeezing until she panted. “I need the rest of it, Ileana. Give it me.”

Her face was growing flushed, her eyes losing some of their glitter. “I will tell you what to do, and if you please me, I
will give you all of it. If not, I will give you a generous portion. Training does take time.” He hated her smile, her hands
that worked the bindings of her skirt.

This was for Phoebus. He could do anything for Phoebus, suffer any indignity, endure any trial. “What do you want me to do?”
His voice sounded strange in his ears, and he felt his body stiffening as more and more of her white skin was revealed. He
hated her for making him feel this way, hot and unfocused.

“Worship me, Niko.”

P
HOEBUS KNELT BY
E
UMELOS’ COUCH
. His fingers trembled as he brushed the boy’s hair from his face. Where was Niko? What of his promise? His vow? “It will
be well, son,” he said. “You will be fine. Niko has sworn it. Niko has never broken his word to me, you will be well.”