CHAPTER 5

I’ve never had the best sense of direction, but even I know we’ve passed the same egg-shaped boulder twice on the third day after my abduction.

“Why are we going in circles?” I ask. The rope is as short as ever. There are about three inches between Beta Sinta’s back and my front. And he’s so bloody hot! Sitting this close to him makes me want to dump snow over his head.

“We’re being followed.”

My heart jolts in my chest. Are Aetos and Selena coming for me?

I doubt it. They read my note. They would think about it, fight about it, but in the end, they would leave me be.

“How do you know?” I ask.

“I saw smoke from a campfire twice in the last two days.”

“Maybe it’s a coincidence.”

“That’s why we’re going in circles. To find out if they’re really following.”

“I hope they are,” I announce.

“Why’s that?” He doesn’t sound even mildly concerned.

“Because then there’ll be a fight. If I’m lucky, someone will kill you, and I can finally untie this stupid rope.” I have to eat next to him, sleep next to him, bathe next to him, pee and…other stuff next to him. It’s horrible and humiliating. It’s a worse punishment than Prometheus getting his liver eaten every day by a giant eagle.

Poseidon, why are you doing this to me?

If I have to wake up with my nose in Beta Sinta’s chest one more time, I think I’ll scream.

“I’ve fed you, I haven’t harmed you, and I haven’t asked you to do anything in particular. Your situation could be far worse,” he argues. “With whoever might be following us, it could be.”

“First of all, abduction is a major strike against you. Second, they won’t necessarily catch me. Third, you hit me in the face.”

His back tenses. “That was unintentional.”

“It still happened.”

“You hit me often enough,” he mutters.

“Good idea.” I grind my fist into his kidney, feeling no remorse. He snatched me from the circus and threatened the people I love. He deserves that, and worse.

Gray eyes glint at me over his shoulder. Beta Sinta’s voice turns a little too calm for comfort. “Cat…”

“Your Highness?” My tone is a sweet-and-sour masterpiece.

“Have a care.” His eyes narrow, and he takes his time turning back around.

After we set up camp, earlier than usual, Beta Sinta unties himself for the first time and links me to Carver. Unease grips my stomach in the strangest way.

“What are you doing?” I demand.

“They’re following us. See the smoke?” He points at something that looks like a cloud. “I’m going to investigate.”

“Alone?”

He smiles faintly, angling his body toward mine. His warmth burns a flush into my cheeks. “Worried about me?” he asks.

“What? No! I hope you die.”

His smile fades. Straightening abruptly, he tells Carver, “You know what to do.”

Carver nods and claps his brother on the back. After acknowledging Kato and Flynn, Beta Sinta prowls away without a backward glance. The send-off is pretty minimal, if you ask me.

“What are you supposed to do?” I ask when Beta Sinta is out of earshot.

Carver tugs me toward the campfire, and I drag my feet. Southerners always want to be where it’s hot. “If he doesn’t come back, I’ll take you to Sinta City myself. To Egeria.”

If he doesn’t come back, he’s dead, and his rope won’t work unless someone else claims it. That someone will be me, and I’ll be long gone before we reach Sinta City.

I watch Beta Sinta disappear on foot up a rocky hillside scattered with scrub. “Good riddance.”

“You don’t mean that,” Flynn says.

I cross my arms, frowning. “Yes, I do.”

“Why?” Kato asks. His golden hair glows almost celestial white in the strong beams of the setting sun, and I have to squint to look at him. “He’s been decent to you.”

“If decent means abducting me and keeping me tied up, then I guess he’s been decent, by your standards.”

Carver moves, forgetting I’m attached, and I lurch, falling to my hands and knees. A stone digs into my palm, and I hiss a breath between my teeth. Grating a curse, I grab the rope and give it a hard enough yank to make Carver stumble.

“I hate this bloody rope!” None of these people have magic. There isn’t a dribble of power to steal, nothing to get me out of here.

Flynn is instantly by my side, reaching down to help me up.

I shove his mammoth hands away. “Don’t touch me. I hate you all.”

He looks sympathetic, which makes me want to throw him under a Cyclops’s boot. “That’s not true.”

I glare at him. “I have no freedom, no privacy, and now I don’t even get to have my own mind? Don’t tell me how I feel!”

Flynn sets his ax down with a sigh. “You hate Griffin, even though you shouldn’t, and the rest of us are just lumped in because that’s easiest for you.”

I roll my eyes as I contemplate making a lunge for the ax. I would if I thought I could lift it. “Spare me your psychological ramblings.”

“Do you want a bath?” Carver asks, his question cutting straight through our argument and ending it.

We’re fifty feet from a stream with a tempting clear pool. I’m hot and dusty, and I desperately want to jump in. Swimming is in my blood. I’m a fish in Poseidon’s sea.

I plant my hands on my hips. “No.”

He shrugs. “It’s just that you and Griffin keep going off for long baths.”

My mouth drops open. What in the Underworld is he implying? “He doesn’t give me any choice! Apparently, I stink.”

Kato leans over and sniffs me, his cobalt eyes dancing with humor. “You don’t smell that bad.”

That bad? “That’s because I bathe.”

Carver glances at the water, then back at me. The rope hangs loosely on his narrow waist. “Except for tonight?” He has the nerve to look like he might laugh, so I level the same cold look at him that I used to give my siblings. It’s my The Ice Plains will melt away and the Underworld will freeze over before I give one inch to you look.

Carver arches dark eyebrows, looking annoyingly like a certain warlord whose ass I’d like to kick from here to a Harpy’s nest. “Suit yourself.”

A bitter smile curves my lips. “Always.” It’s a good thing my own lies don’t burn me.

* * *

I hate stinking. I hate it with the passion of the Gods. I regret my stubbornness before dinner, and even more after when I’m forced to lie down next to Carver, who smells even worse than I do. Kato is on watch, Flynn is already snoring, Beta Sinta is off in the brush, and Carver doesn’t feel right. His body isn’t solid enough. He doesn’t smell of citrus soap and sunshine. He’s just…not the same. As much as I hate to admit it, I was getting used to his brother.

Sleep takes a long time coming and then is fitful, troubled by memories that resurface in dreams. Anxiety bubbles in my stomach, acidic and sharp. The churning has me fumbling in the dark, tumbling in the undertow, getting dragged out to places I don’t want to be.

The first scorching blast sinks into my belly, and I snap awake with a startled cry. He only attacks at night, when I’m asleep and can’t see. I don’t know how he gets past the locks on my door, but it’s him, always the same one. He wouldn’t dare come after me when I’m ready and alert. I’m too good with a knife.

His magic rips through me. Fiery needles pierce my skin, burning deep into the heart of me. I arch off the bed, throbbing, and scream until my throat turns raw, blind with pain. Red with fury.

He lets up, and I just barely suppress a whimper. He’s not strong enough to keep going. If his magic were mine, I could go for hours, slowly cooking him until the last breath left his body. He’s not me. For every five minutes of torture, he needs one to recover. That’s when fists fly.

I block, curling into a ball until either I can strike back without leaving myself too open, or Thanos comes to pull him off me. He hovers over me, fingers digging into my shoulders and pushing me down. His hands on my blistered skin are excruciating, but I thrash to loosen his hold, shrieking for all I’m worth, and then hammer a fist into his throat.

My knuckles connect with flesh, and everything suddenly feels too real. My eyes fly open, and Carver is doubled over me, grabbing his neck. His eyes are bulging, and the breath he finally manages to drag into his airway rattles in his throat.

Seeing him, I go limp with relief. A shudder tangles in my chest. I’m not there.

“What in the Underworld was that?” he rasps, rubbing the Cat-sized fist mark already shadowing his skin.

I glance at my shaking hands, expecting to see red bubbles and slashes, blood turned to lava in my veins. They look normal, but I know the truth; they’re stained.

“Nightmare,” I croak.

Carver sits back on his heels. He shoves a hand through his hair, frowning. “You were twisting and howling like a damned lunatic. Scariest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I clamp my mouth shut. If I open it, I might scream.

Drawn by the commotion, Kato and Flynn exchange a look. Flynn drags his bedroll closer until I’m pinned between Carver and him, and Kato sits down near my head, using one of my knives to carve a likeness of Athena into a chunk of fragrant cedarwood.

I should tell them all to go away. I really should. I unlock my jaw, and something else comes out. “Why Athena?”

“Wisdom and war,” Kato answers. “What every man needs.”

“Not home and family?” I ask.

He grins. “Not a young man. A hearth and a wife are for later, when the battles are won.”

“Haven’t you won? Sinta is yours.”

“Sinta is Egeria’s,” Kato says. “There are battles yet to come.”

His cryptic words send a chill down my spine. Is Tarva next? Fisa? “What makes you think she’ll rule any better than the royals before? Capricious, violent, cruel, bestowing favors only to take them away…”

“You’ll understand when you meet her.”

That’ll never happen. I’ll escape soon. I have to.

“That was more than just a nightmare. Who hurt you?” Flynn asks. He sounds angry, and his genuine concern leaves me feeling raw and exposed.

I press my lips together and stare up at the night sky. I have a better question. Why haven’t I had my daily dose of nightmares since Beta Sinta abducted me? That is, until tonight?

* * *

The next morning, Beta Sinta still hasn’t returned. No one seems particularly worried, and they don’t break camp. I grit my teeth and hint that I might want a bath. Even Poseidon is telling me I stink.

Carver grins. “So how does this work?”

“How do you think? We both turn invisible. The rest is pretty much self-explanatory.”

Chuckling at my crankiness, he wiggles his eyebrows at Kato and Flynn, who joke about wanting their turn at an invisible swim. I roll my eyes and make a rude hand gesture. Then we disappear before they can retaliate.

On the bank, I strip and grab my soap. “You ready?”

“Naked as the day I was born,” Carver answers, sounding far too proud.

I tug on the rope and lead him into the stream. The pool on the east bank is perfect, four feet deep with a sandy bottom and a light current.

“Too bad I can’t see you,” Carver says.

“What?” I feel my cheeks heat. “Why?”

“That would be more fun,” he answers matter-of-factly.

I can’t help laughing. “Splash.”

“What for?”

“So I know where you are.”

The water sloshes about three feet from me, and I hurl the soap at him. Carver lets out a satisfying grunt.

“Don’t flirt with me.”

“Why not?” He sounds completely innocent. The rascal.

“Because I’ll kill you.”

“You could try,” he says, imitating his brother’s deeper voice.

I snort, smothering another laugh. “Is that the new royal family’s motto? Very plebeian. Perfect for your lot.”

“What’s wrong with plebeian?” Carver asks. “I’d rather be us than them.”

He means Magoi nobles and royals. “So would I,” I answer truthfully.

I dive under and blow bubbles. Carver must see them because he hits me with a huge splash when I come up. Sputtering, I splash him back, or at least I think I do. Sometime in the middle of a full-on water fight, I realize I’m having fun. I shouldn’t be enjoying this, but I can’t help it, and being strapped to Carver is so much better than being attached to Beta Sinta. That’s all weirdness and tension.

“You win!” Carver cries, a shiver in his voice. “I’m turning blue.”

“How do you know? You’re invisible.”

“I can feel it. Trust me.”

Trust you? Not likely. “You southerners are so fainthearted.”

Water droplets appear out of nowhere, splattering all around me.

“Shake your hair over there!” I yell, flicking water back.

He must jump away because the rope snaps taut, yanks me, and I face-plant into the stream. I right myself, cursing colorfully between coughs.

Carver laughs. “I’m surprised Griffin hasn’t drowned you yet. I keep forgetting you’re attached.”

I think back over the last few days as we climb the bank. Beta Sinta is surprisingly conscious of the rope, almost never jerking me around.

Frowning, I gather my hair and start wringing the water from it. “I need a drying cloth. And more soap.”

“Ask Griffin,” Carver says.

I huff. “Forget it.” I finger-comb my tangled curls, air-drying the rest of me before dressing. I leave my feet bare. “You ready?”

“I’m always ready.”

I let go of our invisibility, and Carver is still completely naked, his clothes clutched in one hand.

“That’s not ready!” I cry, slapping my hand over my eyes. “You’re an idiot!”

“But an impressive idiot.”

“No!” I screech. “Oh Gods! Now I have to replace my eyeballs!”

He laughs, his clothes rustling. “You asked if I was ready, not if I was dressed, but it’s safe now.”

“I don’t believe you.” I keep my hand where it is even though I’m tempted to split my fingers and take a peek.

“Then walk blind.” Carver moves forward, the rope pulling me along.

A moment later, I take my hand down and walk straight into Beta Sinta, bouncing off his formidable frame. He grabs my arms to steady me, lifting a little at the same time. I end up on my toes, tipping into him, my hands flat against his chest.

Startled, I tilt my head back and find him looking down at me, his thundercloud eyes shaded by thick, dark lashes. His eyes flare a heated silver, something shockingly possessive roaring to life in his hooded gaze.

Heat sizzles through me, coiling deep in my belly. My lips part on a silent gasp, and his eyes drop to my mouth. Stark hunger hardens his striking features, and an unexpected thrill skims down my spine. The low sound that rumbles out of him is raw, primal, and utterly male. He looks ready to slam his mouth down on mine.

Instinctively, my eyes lock on his mouth. He has the kind of generous lips that look like they would be hard and soft at the same time, that would demand and coax, and set nerves on fire and melt resolve.

He drags me closer, and my heart leaps wildly in response. Stupid, stupid heart.

“Breathe,” he murmurs.

My eyes widen, and I suck in a huge breath because it’s either that or pass out.

He chuckles. Bastard.

Scowling, I push off, getting nowhere because Beta Sinta doesn’t let go.

“You.” I must manage to look as scornful as I sound because he stiffens, finally releasing me. I drop, landing hard on my bare heels, the strangest chill rattling through me at our sudden separation.

His eyes go from blazing quicksilver to frosty granite. “Having fun?”

“Not anymore.”

“Cat…” Carver warns, dragging his tunic over his head.

“What?” I snap.

“You’re neither a guest nor a friend,” Beta Sinta grates out. “Speak respectfully.”

“If you don’t like my big mouth, then let me go!”

Beta Sinta’s eyes narrow on his brother before swinging back to me. His gaze is dark and unnervingly intense. A muscle pops in his jaw. I have no idea what he’s so mad about. I’m the one getting dragged around Sinta by a magic rope.

I bend down and jerk on my boots. “No? Then just kill me and get it over with.”

“I have no intention of killing you.”

My temper ignites. “You want to use me! You ripped me from my home because you think it’s your right. Beta Sinta can do anything he wants. Ruin anybody’s life he wants. Royals!” I spit. “You’re no different from the rest of them—Sintan, Tarvan, or Fisan.”

“It’s not like that,” Carver interjects. “You’ll have a good life.”

I turn a blistering look on him, only vaguely registering that I detect no lies in either of their words. “A good life? Living in fear? A captive? Waiting for someone to steal me? Torture me? Murder me?”

Beta Sinta’s eyes drop to the scars on my arms, comprehension flitting across his otherwise stony visage. “So that’s what happened to you.”

My chest erupts, a thousand moments of terror and pain suspending my heartbeat and stopping my breath. I reel back, the bitter tang of residual fear splashing in my throat.

“And at the circus?” he asks softly.

My eyes feel like they take up half my face. I swallow, but my mouth is so dry it hurts. “There, nobody knew.”

Most of the irritation vanishes from his expression. “You can relax, Cat. I’m not planning on flying a ‘Kingmaker’ banner from the castle gate.” His voice is level, reasonable, almost soothing. It makes me want to explode. Or vomit. Or both.

“It starts with four people,” I say hotly, waving my hand toward our camp. “And turns into four hundred!”

“It won’t.” He reaches out, gently closing his fingers over mine.

I’m so shocked by the intimate touch and the sheer warmth of his skin that it takes a moment to rip my hand away. I give it a sharp tug, and he lets go. “You don’t know that!”

Beta Sinta unties the rope from Carver and straps me back to him. I feel like a bloody dog. On a leash. With a Gods damn owner! Apparently, the argument is over. He even gets to decide that. Son of a Cyclops! It takes all my minimal self-control not to start kicking him in the shins.

“I’ve already heard from Kato and Flynn. Anything to add?” Beta Sinta is looking at the bruise on Carver’s neck. The others obviously told him about my nightmare. Did they also tell him how they surrounded me like a flock of oversized mother hens?

Carver grins, rubbing his neck. “She packs a mean punch.”

Beta Sinta doesn’t smile back. “Maybe you slept too close.”