Vengeance Throne (The Callistra Chronicles #2)

TWENTY-SEVEN

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Along the equator of Callistra, the Isles remained silent. It was at its most tranquil, without the frantic bodies worrying themselves thin upon it, without the burn of steel in its soil while poorly planted crops attempted to spread its toxic roots into the layers of land.

But if one stood still and pushed their fingers into the earth, perhaps one could feel the trembling that shook through the Isles, as if the country knew what was coming for it.

"You're leaving with them," Circe told Lauha, giving the banshee a push up the ramp of the evacuation vessel. "Go to Calva. Help them with any superhuman troubles."

"Do you jest?" Lauha spluttered. She tried to dig her heels into the ramp, but Circe was physically stronger than she was.

"I do not jest." Circe threw another glance over her shoulder. She could have been imagining it, but she thought she saw silver wings shooting through the sky towards the Unseelie ships. The sun was too bright and the glare from the steel of the vessels were too strong to make out much. Still, she had a hunch.

"A battle is coming," Lauha argued. She lodged herself at the porthole stubbornly, though she was the last person who needed to board before the ship left for Calva its second time. "I'm your best hope."

Why are you even so eager to help? Circe wanted to ask, but that wasn't her business, so she swallowed the question.

"It doesn't matter," Circe said. She pushed Lauha firmly over the threshold. "We're all leaving."

Inside the ship now, Lauha whirled around to face Circe, her eyes wide. "You, too? You're going to let the Unseelie Court claim the Isles?"

"No. That's not happening."

"I don't understand."

"We don't have to do anything." Circe pointed to the sky. "Because this entire place is going to blow."

***

Pasiphae skidded to a stop outside of Seth's rooms and started pounding on the door with her left fist. Her right arm, meanwhile, was clutching a bowl that she had found in the kitchenette—a bowl that had been filled to the brim with water when she sprinted out of her rooms but was now half empty after all the sloshing it had gone through.

Despite her loud and continuous banging on the door, there was no response from within.

"Seth!" Pasiphae hissed, trying not to raise her voice too much, lest the workers drifting around the gardens hear her. "Seth, open your door!"

Nothing.

So Pasiphae let herself in.

"You know," she remarked, bursting into the main bedroom, "you really shouldn't leave your door unlocked."

For a second, Seth's rooms were devoid of movement, save the papers fluttering in the breeze. With Pasiphae's entrance, however, a door to the side opened and Seth poked his head through, his hair wet.

"Saf?" he asked. "What are you—"

"Let's go," she said before he could finish. "We need to attack the weaponry hall right now."

"Right now?" Seth echoed dumbly. "Is that a bowl of water?"

"Yes, and yes," Pasiphae said. "Unless you want the war to begin in the next second as the Unseelie army officially claims Seelie territory on the Isles, let's go."

Seth needed a full second to digest the information. Then, his eyes went skyward, muttering a curse.

"Alright, one moment."