CHAPTER 7

I squint into the heat haze, wondering if I’m hallucinating. “Is that a town?” I was starting to think we’d go all the way to Sinta City without ever staying at an inn.

Sleep in a bed? With Beta Sinta?

My stomach flips over at the thought, even though I’ve been sleeping next to him on the ground.

Maybe he’d just tie me to the bed?

What flashes through my mind makes wildfire splash across my cheeks when I should be seething. I am seething. Beta Sinta keeps me infuriatingly close—on horseback, at meals, in streams. At night. His scent is constantly in my nostrils, the heat of him always scorching my skin.

“Better. A market town.” He turns, smiling at me, and the outside of his thigh brushes the inside of mine. My pulse picks up, and there’s an excited leap in my chest. My unruly physical reaction to him makes me want to kick myself in the head. Or kick him in the head.

“Why now? Not that I’m complaining.” I can put a muzzle on my animosity for a few hours in exchange for a market town.

“You said you’d be less of a pain in exchange for fruit and bread. And no more goat cheese.”

I fight the smile tugging at my lips. “I said I’d consider it.”

“For more soap and a drying cloth, maybe you’ll get us a Dragon,” he adds hopefully.

Of course the others told him about that. They’re worse than a bunch of gossiping fishwives. I can’t even yawn without it being reported back to Beta Sinta within the hour.

“I’ll need more than that for a Dragon. And I don’t even know if I can.”

“You could try.”

I snort. “That’s not my motto.”

I can’t see his face, but I know he’s grinning. His high spirits make me want to grin back, which worries me. Does Beta Sinta think he’s won? How did I even end up here?

“What were you doing at the circus only a few months after taking over Sinta? Didn’t you have other things to do?”

He chuckles, a deep, vibrating sound that rumbles through my body. That fluttery feeling irritates my chest again.

“I told you, I need Magoi on my side. The circus is full of them, but from what I could see, they’re not the usual pretentious, prejudiced lot.”

True. “And abduction seemed like a good idea?”

“I asked first.”

“More like ordered. And threatened my friends.”

He shrugs. “I told you. I do what needs to be done.”

My hackles instantly rise. “Who are you to decide what needs to be done? That’s subjective by nature. No two people think alike.”

“Someone has to decide. Without rulers, there’s chaos.”

Damn it! That’s true. “We had rulers. There was order.”

“There was oppression.”

Damn it! That’s true, too.

“Hold on,” he says. My hands automatically land on his waist while he urges his horse to jump a lightning line. The mark of Zeus stretches as far as the eye can see in both directions, a charred scar cutting across dust, stones, and yellowed grass, proof that the Gods are never far from Thalyria.

Beta Sinta reins in, waiting for the others to catch up. “Character, past, and environment all affect the choices we make. The trick is choosing a path and following it. Make a decision, and don’t turn back.”

“What if it’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” He winks at me over his shoulder. “It’s never happened.”

I roll my eyes, torn between laughing and pulling my hair out. “Since kidnapping clearly doesn’t bother you, why me? I can’t do anything. If I could, I’d be long gone.”

He turns again, his dark eyebrows raised. “Does my rare and surly Kingmaker really need me to answer that?” he teases.

His? My pulse speeds up. “Okay. Fine. Besides that.”

He doesn’t turn back around. His eyes travel an unhurried path over my face, and I can almost feel the heat in them on the curve of my cheek, and then on my mouth. His burning gaze snags on my braid, following it across my shoulder and over the swell of my breast. As his eyes dip, his lips part, and his fingers twitch on his thigh.

My breathing turns shallow. Muscles I’m not usually aware of clench deep inside me, growing achy with tension and warmth. The heat simmering in my core quickly spirals through the rest of me, flushing my face with color. I hate that I react this way to him. And I hate that it shows.

Scowling, I flick my braid over my shoulder.

Beta Sinta blinks and turns back around. “That was it, at the time. The Kingmaker. But you’re a lot more than that, aren’t you, Cat?”

The blood still climbing to my face plummets like Icarus falling to the sea. Gods, magic, and the prophecy I try so hard to ignore all collide in my stomach in an explosion of secrets and dread. Anxiety coats my tongue while an icy chill slides down my spine. The feeling is so familiar, and yet it freezes me solid every time.

I take a deep breath and let it out as silently as I can. “Not really.” My voice comes out light and steady, even though I’m about two Hydra heads away from having a panic attack. “I’m from the north. Knowledge of creatures and magic is normal for us.”

He grunts. Agreement? Skepticism? I can’t tell.

I bite my lip, wondering what he really knows. “Why focus on me?”

Beta Sinta shrugs, rolling his muscular shoulders right in front of me. His lightweight tunic doesn’t hide much. It’s hard not to stare.

“I don’t need more brute strength,” he says. “I won this war. There are politics to deal with now—Magoi nobles, and Tarvan and Fisan royals. I need to know who’s lying to me. I need to know the truth so Sinta can avoid more war.”

“The warlord wants peace?” I scoff.

“Am I lying?”

I grit my teeth. “No.” Of all people, I should know. “Power corrupts.”

“Power corrupts the weak.”

Gods! I hate it when I agree with him. “How did you even know what I can do?”

There’s a slight pause. “At first, without drawing attention to myself, I was trying to get a feel for the different Magoi at the circus, but I found myself always watching you instead. First outside Sinta City when the circus crossed back over from Tarva. Then I went to a few performances in Kaplos. When the circus moved south, I decided to follow. I knew there was something different about you, something special, but I couldn’t figure out what.”

His words stun me into silence. Beta Sinta watched me for weeks without my even realizing it? I’m not careless, or oblivious. None of this makes sense—not him focusing on me, and not my runaway mouth at the last circus fair. And since. Information is valuable, and I’ve been spewing it out like it’s worth copper instead of gold.

“How did you figure it out?” I finally ask.

His pause is longer this time. “Strangely enough, it was a dream. I dreamt I was swimming in a vast and stormy ocean in the dead of night. When I couldn’t swim any longer, I sank to the bottom, and you were there. You lit up the dark like a lightning bolt, took my hands, and pulled me to the surface. You told me we could change everything—that you knew the truth.”

My heart seizes and then crashes violently against my ribs. An oracular dream! Beta Sinta was gifted with an oracular dream—Poseidon’s oracular dream—and he doesn’t even know it.

Queasiness turns my insides upside down. Poseidon, why have you betrayed me?

My mind races while my stomach ties itself in knots. What in the Underworld is going on? Why is Poseidon even interested in Sinta? There’s no ocean in the west, his Oracles are on the other side of the realms, and magic has always been weakest here. The Ice Plains get diagonally bigger as you go east. Sinta has the narrowest strip. As the middle realm, Tarva has twice as much glacial territory, and Fisa, in the east, has even more. To core Olympians like Poseidon, these dusty hills, plains, and old forests are an afterthought. As much as I love Sinta, it’s the runt of the realms.

“From there I started thinking about old legends,” he continues. “I went to Mylos for the knowledge scrolls and found you, or the equivalent of you. The Kingmaker—the woman who hears the lie and knows the truth. Basil was the perfect test. I knew he wasn’t who he said he was. I was constantly drawn to you. The dream told me I needed you. After I saw your reaction when Basil lied, I knew what to do.”

Constantly drawn to me? A weird spasm twists my chest. Focus! “Snatch me with a magic rope?”

He laughs. “Exactly.”

My hands, which for some reason keep ending up on his waist lately, curl into fists. Beta Sinta grabs one and holds on.

“Let go,” I demand.

“No.”

My eyebrows snap together. “Why not?”

“Because your gut reaction is always to punch, and I don’t like being tickled.”

Tickled? Tickled! Indignation swamps me. I’ll show him a tickle.

Before I can move, he drops the reins and captures my other hand, easily maneuvering both my hands into one of his. He picks the reins back up with the other. As usual, he gains the upper hand with disgustingly little effort, and I end up with both arms around him, my face buried in his back.

Beta Sinta’s crisp, masculine scent of citrus and sunshine fills my nose. Hard muscle ripples under my cheek. I’m frighteningly aware of all the places his broad, powerful body touches mine, and I shiver despite the heat.

“Let. Me. Go,” I grind out.

“I. Said. No.”

I open my mouth, teeth bared.

“If you bite me, I swear to the Gods I’ll dump you off this horse and make you walk.”

I close my mouth. The town is still miles away. “I won’t bite.”

“Or punch.”

I grit my teeth. “You’re asking a lot.”

“Am I?” he drawls, tightening his grip on my wrists until I hiss.

“Ow! Fine. Or punch.”

His fingers loosen. “Is that your binding word?”

My eyes widen. Beta Sinta says he needs me for information, but he already knows more about the ways of magic than is good for me.

“Fine. It’s my binding word.” It’s like pulling my own teeth, but I’m desperate to stop hugging him. He’s too hot and…and…something.

“Ever,” he stipulates.

Something between a laugh and a snort explodes from me. “Don’t push your luck.”

“A day, then. Starting now.”

“Fine. A day,” I agree, fuming.

He lets go of my wrists. I sit up so fast I almost tumble off the back of the horse. Beta Sinta’s chuckle is almost as irritating as the jolt of magic that seals the deal. Hoi Polloi can say one thing and do another, even if they shouldn’t. They may feel guilt, or regret, or possibly nothing at all, but there are no physical consequences. I can’t get away with that.

An epic scowl on my face, I wiggle back, rubbing the finger marks on my wrists and thinking about Poseidon. Between Beta Sinta’s oracular dream and my out-of-control mouth, there’s no doubt the God is sticking his trident where it doesn’t belong. When Gods dabble in the affairs of men, anything can happen. It’s definitely not something to ignore. If my God Father wants Beta Sinta and me together, he must have a very good reason for it. Or at least I hope so.

* * *

We stable the horses at Pan’s Pavilion, a completely innocuous inn on the west side of town. Why Beta Sinta is entering a conquered city with so little fanfare is beyond me. What’s the point of taking over a realm just to wander around like a nobody?

He laughs when I ask. Laughs. What is wrong with these people?

“If anyone finds out who I am, we’ll be thronged,” he explains. “Better to just be a nobody if we want to make it to Sinta City before winter.”

I guess that explains his avoidance of populated areas up until now. I roll my eyes. “Oh, the woe of being adored.”

Beta Sinta grins. “It’s a hard life.”

I harrumph. Too bad I made that vow not to hit him. It would be pretty satisfying to smack the smug look off his face right now.

The five of us head straight to the market. The streets are narrow and shaded in the inn’s vicinity, but the closer we get to the agora, the more they widen, letting the afternoon sun beat down. It’s as merciless as Zeus on the top of my dark head. I can’t help wondering where a glacial lake is when I need one. Or a hat.

The architecture changes near the heart of the city, becoming ornate. Temples dot the central neighborhood, a steady flow of people moving in and out of them for prayer.

I insist on going into a sanctuary dedicated to Poseidon. There are only a few coppers in my pocket, along with the obol I wouldn’t even consider giving up. That coin is for Charon, and it’ll stay in my pocket until the day I need to pay the ferryman to row me across the Styx and into the land of the dead.

Settling on my knees in front of a huge statue of the Sea God, I bow my head, say a silent prayer of safekeeping for my friends at the circus, and then put two of my three coppers into the polished bronze bowl at Poseidon’s feet. It’s not much, and Poseidon’s followers are many, but I hope my coppers will eventually find their way to providing for people who need them more than I do.

Beta Sinta kneels beside me and takes a handful of silver coins from the pouch at his side, dropping them next to mine. My eyes practically pop out of my head at the sight of so much money.

“I usually give to Athena and her cult.” He shrugs. “But since we’re here…”

Carver, Flynn, and Kato all kneel and give up a silver coin as well.

After the holy man bestows a blessing on each of our bent heads, we head back out into the blinding sunlight. The heat sinks into my scalp, driving me crazy. Squinting and fanning myself, I look around at the stone buildings adorned with fluted marble columns and carvings of creatures and Gods. What I see makes the geography of our convoluted travels finally click into place.

“This is Velos,” I say.

Beta Sinta glances at me, seeming surprised. “You’ve been here?”

“No, but Apollo and Artemis are everywhere, and Velans worship the twins.” They’re on nearly every facade, in all their naked glory. “Velos depends on game from the forest to the west. Along with the market, meat and leather are what make the city prosper. It’s logical to worship the Gods of archery and the hunt.”

“How do you know so much about Velos? The circus travels a route farther to the west.”

Hours of schooling and a tutor with a whip? “I’ve met people, heard things,” I say offhandedly.

Beta Sinta stops, his mouth flattening in obvious irritation. “Help me, Cat. Or at least tell me the truth. I know when you’re lying.”

“Oh?” My heart trips over its next beat.

“Your eyes get twitchy.”

“My eyes do not get twitchy!”

“This one gets narrower.” He touches the tip of his finger to the corner of my right eye, and a little jolt zips through me. “It’s as if you’re expecting the lie to hurt, but it doesn’t because it’s your own.”

I jerk my head away and start walking again. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll have to work on that.”

“Cat…” he growls, stalking after me. “Everything would be so much easier if—”

“—you let me go.”

Beta Sinta shakes his head. “I can’t. You’re too valuable.”

“Aren’t you the lucky despot? The one who caught the Kingmaker. Forgive me for not being overjoyed about becoming your slave.”

“Not a slave.” He grabs my arm, swinging me back to him. “One of us.”

Incredibly, he believes what he’s saying, even if I don’t. I wrench my arm from his grip, feeling each long finger like a brand on my skin. I wish my eyes could shoot flames. Or my hands. Or really, any part of me would do. “I’ll never be one of you.”

Beta Sinta spears a hand through his black hair, tugging a little. “You’re too stubborn for your own good.”

I glare at him. He simply looks back, and his calm makes me want to hit something. Or someone.

Our small group continues before stopping again in front of a row of colorful market stalls. A light breeze slips over my shoulder, and I turn into it, trying to cool down while Beta Sinta opens his leather pouch again and produces four silver coins.

Flynn rubs his hands together, his eyes brightening. “Payday!”

Flynn, Carver, and Kato each take a coin, leaving one in Beta Sinta’s palm.

“Cat.” He extends the coin to me. “Your pay.”

Of all the things I imagined he might say, that wasn’t one of them. I snap my jaw shut and turn away. I have my last copper.

He doesn’t insist, dropping the coin back into his pouch. “I’ll hold it for you. I know what you want. You complain about it often enough.”

I look up sharply and find his eyes brimming with humor. Is he teasing me?

We approach the vendors, the enchanted rope tugging me along. I wonder what would happen if I sat down and refused to budge. Would I get dragged around on my ass? Tossed over one shoulder? The possibilities keep my feet moving.

Beta Sinta buys enough apricots and oranges to last a week; four loaves of bread; normal, hard cheese; and green grapes. I want the red ones, but since I refused the money, I keep my mouth shut. He finds a soap seller next and takes forever sniffing the different scents.

I roll my eyes. “You’re worse than a woman. Just take the yellow one. It’s always the best.”

He picks it up and inhales. “Lemon. Smells like you.”

I don’t know if it’s the way his voice turns rough, or how his thick, dark lashes dip, fanning his cheeks and shading his eyes, but my insides turn revoltingly mushy.

“And you,” I sputter. “My soap should have lasted another month.”

“We’ll take two,” he tells the vendor, paying and then continuing down the row of stalls.

“There is no we. Don’t act like I have a say in any of this.”

Beta Sinta whirls, frustration darkening his eyes. “You could have a say. And you could bloody well choose your own soap!”

“I did! I told you to take the yellow one.”

“And I did!”

Muttering a curse, he walks off so fast that the rope pulls, jerking me into someone. Or maybe the man stumbles into me. His eyes are unfocused, and he’s listing to the left.

Magic bites my skin. My body responds instantly. I feel the vortex. I let it expand, readying the whirlpool that’ll pull the stranger’s magic into me and make it my own.

I reach out with a shudder. Aside from the steady, light nip of the rope, which I hardly feel anymore, I haven’t been in contact with magic for nearly two weeks, and whatever is coursing through this man’s veins is exciting and potent. I don’t know what it is, but it might mean my escape.

I grab his shoulders, feeling like a child in a kitchen full of cakes. I’m going to stuff myself until I burst.