Vengeance Throne (The Callistra Chronicles #2)

SIX

PART SEVEN — PREY

There lies death where Pasiphae of Eo walks.

Chapter Six

The globe spun with stars.

Pasiphae was trying to sleep, tucked into a corner of the moving boat, but for the life of her, she couldn't nod off. The other three were contently resting, judging by the occasional snores that Pasiphae heard. She didn't know how they managed.

They had decided that there was no need for someone to keep watch through the night, given that they were in the middle of the vast ocean, but still, Pasiphae had taken it upon herself to play guard, even if it wasn't entirely a conscious decision.

They would approach Calva soon, and Pasiphae was watching the night pass. She thought perhaps if she could press pause on one moment, she would press it here, a moment right before doom, and thus a moment when her safety was ensured.

She raised her hand to her face, watching her skin glimmer under the moonlight. The patch on her arm where her scars were raised was brighter than usual.

The boat rocked suddenly, and Pasiphae stiffened, thinking they had run into trouble. She relaxed when she saw that it was only Circe, who had sat up and was crawling over.

"Hey," her sister whispered. "You should be sleeping."

"I should be doing a lot of things," Pasiphae replied plainly.

Circe snorted as she lied back down, shoulder to shoulder with Pasiphae. "I'm glad to have you back, Saf. Even if you're always so worldly."

It was the serious way that Circe said it, the way she frowned a little, that made Pasiphae laugh.

"Worldly, you say?"

"Yes," Circe insisted, yawning. "You take the fate of our entire world onto your shoulders."

Pasiphae turned her head on its side, watching her twin as the truth of that statement sunk in. She couldn't help it. If she was built strong enough to lift the sky up, then she would lift the sky up, for her people's sake.

"We're two-thirds of Eo's Divine, Kee," Pasiphae reminded. Her tone was teasing even if her eyes were somber with the knowledge. "Where's our choice?"

"There's always a choice," Circe said simply. She was staring up at the spinning stars.

A quiet moment passed. The boat continued slicing through water.

Will there come a day when we can no longer peacefully disagree? Pasiphae wanted to ask. What happens when I insist on one way and you insist on another? What then?

"Tell me about the Trials," Pasiphae said quietly instead. "Tell me about Embess."

In truth, she hadn't quite come to terms with the fact that their friend was dead yet. She knew that Arche was dead too and she knew that it was her who killed the other witch, but somehow, the difference between knowing, and truly realising that those once closest to her were gone, was worlds apart in her mind.

Embess' family had held their rites and paid their respects, but witches made no habit of large mourning ceremonies. Pasiphae didn't know how to say goodbye, how to say I'm sorry for not being there.

"She went out with a fight," Circe answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "She went out with justice on her lips, using her last breath to bring Arche into the light."

Pasiphae squeezed her eyes shut, but she could still see the glittering lights that shone down from above.

"And you?" she asked. "How did your fight go?"