Vengeance Throne (The Callistra Chronicles #2)

EIGHT

Chapter Eight

The trek continued.

Though storm clouds were gathering overhead—turning a bright noon into a dull, dreary one—the jungle climate was becoming hot and humid. With its position along the equator, it would appear that Calva's next attempt at killing them would be to cook them from the inside out.

"That's it," Seth announced, digging his heels into the ground. His voice interrupted the quiet, signalling for the rest of the group to stop too. Pasiphae turned around warily, watching him with narrowed eyes as he dumped his pack onto the ground.

She wasn't expecting him to tear off his shirt next.

"Not a good idea," Circe said wryly. "You're more exposed to potential airborne toxins."

"I can warn you about an incoming acidic slime splatter, but I can't stop it from hitting you dead centre in the naked chest," Rhoden added.

Seth scoffed, hauling his pack onto his shoulder. He couldn't wear it properly anymore, not with his wings unfolded, golden strands stretching out among the low-hanging vines.

It was a sight that Pasiphae knew made Circe and Rhoden uncomfortable, though they tried their best not to show it. Years of ingrained prejudice was something they had to work to destroy: it could hardly disappear overnight. It was easy enough to pretend Seth was one of them with his coat on, but there was no denying his contrasting nature when those wings were in plain sight.

"I think I'll take the risk," Seth said.

Circe sighed, shaking her head. "Let's keep moving then. Pasiphae, close your mouth."

Pasiphae jerked her head to her sister, heat flooding to her cheeks. "Excuse me, my mouth was not open."

It sounded like Circe was quietly laughing to herself.

They pushed forward. The hours crawled by.

As the mountains at the centre of Calva grew closer, the landscape around them changed steadily. The trees became sparser and the threats of poisonous moss dwindled, but with the increasing empty space, strange animals started appearing at a far higher frequency.

"Stay completely still," Rhoden would whisper, gesturing for them to stop with little time to react.

The species that appeared were all of the old world, but also something entirely new. Thankfully, Rhoden managed to keep them away from wandering creatures, crouching low when birds of three heads flew overhead and climbing high into the nearest tree when a slithering viper that moved faster than Pasiphae could blink zipped past.

It was entirely bizarre that every strange creature on this country was immune to magic. Any attempt was ineffective, bouncing off the overgrown insects and the slithering amphibians as if they wore a protective shield.

With no way to defend themselves, the three witches and the one faery could do nothing but hide. They truly would have died without Rhoden.

At last, when it seemed like the sun was setting underneath the broiling clouds, its yellow rays tiredly shining from the furthest west, Pasiphae looked up and realised there were no more trees drooping above her.

"We're here," she whispered.

"That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?" Seth asked. He pointed ahead. "We still have an entire mountain to climb."

"At least it is easier to see threats now," Circe remarked, breezing by. She didn't hesitate before stomping down on the base of the mountain and starting her climb up. The slope was steep, but there was the rough outline of a path along the side of the mountain to allow for easy passage.