Vengeance Throne (The Callistra Chronicles #2)

TWENTY-THREE

PART NINE — TYRANT

No enemy will be spared from the terror that is Pasiphae of Eo.

Chapter Twenty-Three

There was a robotic crow flying overhead.

Pasiphae ducked onto the floor of the rooftop, dragging Psyche and Charlize down too, the latter emitting a sharp squeak of surprise. She had thought that the false bird perhaps had a camera embedded into its eye, but the bird didn't stop upon spotting her. It simply flew on ahead, squawking.

It wasn't cameras that Pasiphae had to worry about today: the village they had chosen—one that was not so coincidentally on land owned by Herayn Micorphius—was only patrolled by surveillance A.I, and as long as Pasiphae didn't take her mask off, her identity would remain a secret.

Her biggest worry was being recognised by the villagers themselves.

"Your problem is that you pronounce your vowels too slowly," Seth was saying, since this had been their topic of conversation for the last half hour. "Even when you're faking the Airesian accent, anyone listening hard enough can hear that pesky flat A sound."

Pasiphae sighed, peering over the edges of the rooftop. At last, three knights were starting to lead a blindfolded woman into the village square. Pasiphae, Seth, Psyche, and Charlize had been camped atop this building since morning, waiting for the right moment to drop down, waiting for the knights to decide to carry out the daily execution.

"Excuse me if I can't completely re-shape the way I was taught to talk," Pasiphae scoffed, keeping her eyes trained on the blindfolded victim. "We're already lucky enough that the entirety of Callistra speaks one language. Maybe I can just move my mouth and Psyche can speak from the rooftop."

"Don't be ridiculous," Psyche said.

"I was joking."

Charlize clicked her fingers at the both of them sharply, bringing them back on task. "It's time."

Below, loud wailing had started from the onlookers. The emotional reaction was good, but Pasiphae wished they would stop. It made their suffering too real; it reminded her that she wasn't deserving of being a hero, that she wasn't stopping this for the right reasons.

"Are you two sure you don't want to participate?" she asked Psyche and Charlize absently. "You could gain some more magic."

"I like to think I'm a league above the ordinary knights," Psyche replied, turning her nose up, "it would be insulting if I really do gain from their magic."

Seth rolled his eyes. He didn't care about this twisted process of magic reaping—the only person who outranked him and hence the only person he could truly absorb the magic of, was his own mother.

Of course, he would have to succeed at killing her first, and they still hadn't talked about that. As terrible as it sounded, they needed a murder plan once she returned, but matricide was hardly something Pasiphae was jumping to discuss.

"In seriousness, I fear we would get recognised if we partake in what's about to happen," Charlize said, casting Psyche a disapproving look. "Go ahead, Saf. Remember: big movements."

Big movements, so Seth could see what she was doing and use his magic to fake hers.

Pasiphae stood up.

She was spotted almost immediately by a few of the villagers standing along the edge of the crowd. At first, they frowned, puzzled by her sudden appearance on the ledge of the rooftop, by the alabaster white mask that covered her entire face. This time, Pasiphae couldn't afford to run around with just a swatch of cloth over her face or an itchy head-sock. She had asked Seth to track down something that wouldn't slip around and reveal her identity, and he had delivered aptly.