Vengeance Throne (The Callistra Chronicles #2)

NINETEEN

Chapter Nineteen

If Pasiphae had thought that the polar night of Khotadi was disorientating, she was in for a surprise with Airesi's midnight sun.

She woke to bright light hitting her face, the sensation accosting her so suddenly that for a second, she thought she had been physically slapped. Groaning, she drew the blanket over her face and squinted at the time ticking away on the far wall. It would have only been sunrise on Medeis. At this time in Airesi, however, the windows automatically turned off its shades, letting in a day brighter than Eo's hottest summers.

The sliding door started creaking open. Pasiphae sat upright abruptly, her heart jumping, but it was only Psyche who then appeared.

"Oh," Pasiphae said, collapsing back down into her pillow, "it's just you."

Psyche narrowed her eyes, clearly taking offence that it was just her. "Who else were you expecting? Get up, witch. You're getting your marriage approved today."

At the sound of that, Pasiphae wanted to put her fist through the wall. Multiple times. But since she was determined to remain level-headed and calm, she simply sat up properly and said, "Wasn't that yesterday?"

"This one is official," Psyche replied. "You're going to a temple at the furthest edges of Airesi for the nobles to oversee a pre-ceremony. Didn't Seth tell you this?"

Pasiphae rubbed the sleep from her eyes, wincing. In a bid to avoid Psyche's scrutiny, she turned away and let her eyes settle on the scene outside the windows, watching the figures that were sweeping the gardens. When one of the fae looked up, Pasiphae realised it was Rhiannon in the same second that Rhiannon realised Pasiphae was watching her. The handmaiden dipped her chin in a hurried nod of respect, then turned away.

"Yes, he did," Pasiphae finally managed, "I just forgot. When are we leaving?"

"As soon as you get dressed." Psyche threw a bundle of fabric at her slumped form. "Quick, quick."

Pasiphae rolled her eyes. She sighed heavily before making a move to swing her legs out of bed, feigning theatrics, but she was far from being dramatic when a current ran through her body as soon as she grounded herself, shocking her so badly that her skin buzzed electric.

"Ouch!" she cried, jerking her feet up. "Did you just use magic on me?"

"No?" The faery appeared confused. "Why would I?"

Pasiphae gingerly set her feet down on the floor again, expecting a repeat shock. To her growing incomprehension, nothing happened.

"False alarm," she muttered.

With a frown worrying her expression, Pasiphae pulled on the change of clothing, squirming into the simple get-up that she could thankfully manage on her own. She would never get used to the fae's coarse fabric—perhaps they made it itchy at the hems on purpose.

"So where is Seth?" Pasiphae asked evenly when she finished doing up the last button at her neck.

"He and Charlize went to a few of the more unruly villages earlier this morning," Psyche answered, not noticing anything in Pasiphae's voice to be awry. "They're running damage control for the Mors, not that they will achieve much."

Pasiphae momentarily forgot about her own personal problems.

"It will achieve plenty," she argued. "We have half of the sylph medallion. The new attacks can be prevented."

Psyche didn't look so sure. "His Highness can ward the areas all he likes," she said sombrely. "Those fallen comatose still cannot wake until the medium link—the spy—is dead." The faery shook her head then, shaking herself out of the topic digression. "Anyway, Seth will meet you at the temple. I'm taking you there."