PART FOUR — WARRIOR
There was only damnation on the day Pasiphae of Eo lived to die.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Truthfully, Pasiphae felt as if she was wading through water. Perhaps, even, moving in slow motion, her body unable to keep up with her roaring mind.
She tugged her dress high to give her legs room to move, struggling back up the hill. She had to navigate past trampled branches and toppled cups, puddles of bright liquids that either spilled from cups or spilled from mouths.
The woodlands were emptied of fae and humans now, save for the few that were so catatonic they lay twitching at the base of a tree. With the masses emptied out into the city, it was almost noiseless.
Pasiphae slowed her steps, not really knowing why she felt the urge to do so. In the faint distant, she almost thought she could hear the howl of a wolf, though those had not existed for thousands of years.
The palace walls loomed into view. From a highest turret, the sylphs shot into the sky like the reverse of a light beam.
Pasiphae crouched to a stop, panting heavily. She pressed up against a tree, angling her body out of view as three sylphs flew past, making low noises to themselves that sounded like tortured laughing.
After she was certain there was no immediate danger, Pasiphae stepped into open space, running towards the palace walls. She collided with the barrier fiercely, kicking and pounding and desperate for a way in. She could not see the sylphs so close to the looming wall, but she could smell them.
Pasiphae was thrown back in effort. There was no secret entrance that she had missed. The wall was just as solid as it had always been.
"What are you doing?"
Pasiphae clutched at her chest in fright, her head whipping up towards the sound.
Lauha Hollblood, the banshee, was perched at the top of the wall, one leg raised along the edge and the other dangling down. Her silver wings were collapsed on either side, slightly dampened from the rain.
"I'm trying to get in," Pasiphae said simply, lost for words.
Lauha's wings stood straight in a sudden whoosh and the faery flitted down unceremoniously. "This way, then."
She landed with a thump, backtracked a few steps, and then gave the ground a brutal stomp.
As her shoe squashed down on a small plant, nearby stones began to rattle, rolling out of the way.
The ground had split open in a perfect square.
Lauha glanced over her shoulder questioningly, and jumped in.
"Wait!" Pasiphae hissed, rushing over. She peered into the gap in the ground, but saw only darkness. She stuck her hand in, and the air that met her skin was damp with humidity.
"How did I end up here?" Pasiphae muttered to herself. She braced herself, then jumped.
Her boots splashed into a puddle as she landed, and the shock on her ankles sent her stumbling to her knees.
A flicker of light appeared from ahead, and then Lauha's face lit up by the torch she held in her hands.
"You realise there was a ladder, right?" she asked, pointing the torch.
Pasiphae followed the beam. There was indeed a metal structure descending from the gap in the ground, running along the wall.
"Now you tell me," Pasiphae muttered. She got to her feet, wringing out the dirty water from her dress. The sound of the howling wind outside was loud, but she felt none of the breeze. "Where are we? Who are you?"
The moment the first question left her mouth, Pasiphae knew there was a familiarity in the mould on the walls. She looked up, where the beam on Lauha's torch was still lighting the ceiling.
This was where Naeyrs had led her.
"Prees built this place," Lauha said, her footsteps echoing loud as she set off. "There are hidden entrances that lead into the sub-level markets."
Pasiphae almost thought she could hear the rumbling of the stalls through the walls.
"Morgana doesn't know of this?" she asked, gathering her skirts to keep up.
Lauha fell into a strange moment of pause. "No," she finally said. "She almost did."
Pasiphae remembered the surveillance footage: of Lauha secured in a chair and the other faery—Kader. He had been tortured so Lauha would reveal all that she knew about an Unseelie Court infiltration plan.
"You're loyal to the Seelies now," Pasiphae stated. She remembered the boy in the footage. She remembered his golden wings.
She wondered how much she could trust this girl to not be setting a disease on the world.
Lauha brushed her silver wings in a movement that appeared almost unconscious. "That's a hefty claim."
"Well, aren't you?"
"All I am is a faery no longer of the Unseelie," Lauha said. "I suppose if that puts me on the side of the Seelie Court, then the enemy of your enemy is your friend."
"How can you stand it?" The cavern around them dripped continuously with water they couldn't see. "A lifetime without being grounded."
"Half-death isn't so bad," Lauha looked down at her feet, stopping so suddenly that Pasiphae almost walked into her. "This is peculiar."
"What is peculiar?"
Upon the lack of reply, Pasiphae walked up to the banshee. "Lauha, did you release the sylphs?"
Lauha frowned, her eyes still fixed to the puddles on the ground.
"Did anyone?" she replied.
"Will you answer my question?" Pasiphae insisted. She itched for the dagger that once sat in her pocket.
Lauha turned to look at her then, her eyes as dark as void. "I did not, personally. But maybe in another life." She tilted her head. Pasiphae hadn't seen it before in the low light, but it was undeniable now that there was something eerily absent in the other girl's gaze. "Fate did, I suspect."
"Fate?" Pasiphae repeated. "Are you talking about the old world concept or are you referring to a person named Fate?"
Lauha gave a small chortle, her hand pressed against her mouth as if to keep it in, but then she burst into a fit of giggles that Pasiphae felt like she couldn't keep up with.
"Answer me!" Pasiphae demanded.
Lauha pressed a finger to her lips, in the gesture of shushing her. "The Seelies know."
***
"They could have at least told us what we're meant to be doing down here," Circe muttered to herself, running into another dead end.
The moment she realised that they had been dropped into a maze, Circe had reached out her right hand to touch the right wall, maintaining contact to ensure she was only ever taking one path. It was the oldest trick in the book, but before long, the ground was shifting beneath her feet and the sections were shuffling, leaving her circling back to where she had begun if she didn't innovate her methods.
"Since when did we even have—" she panted under her breath, pausing to catch her breath, "—a giant maze beneath Eo?"
Circe tried a new path, and abruptly ended up bashing into another dead end. She gave a frustrated scream, but then paused, seeing something glinting in the lining of the wooden wall.
Circe loosened her knees, noting that it would only appear at a certain angle. The glint came back. She rushed forward.
What on Callistra is this? Circe picked at the glint, loosening a ring. The simple band clinked to the ground.
And then came the screaming.
Circe scuttled back, stabbing splinters into her fingers in her rush to grab the ring. Another witch came into view, screaming his battle cry at the top of his lungs. He paused upon approaching the dead end, his eyes locking onto the ring that Circe pinched between her fingers.
"Hello," she started, "do you know what we're doing here— eeep!"
The squeaky noise she made had been a response to the witch diving at her, and Circe barely managed to dart out of the way.
"What—" She snapped her mouth shut, kicking out with her foot to fend off the witch. He looked older than her, perhaps nearly twenty. There was something desperate in his eyes. "What are you doing?"
"We're collecting rings," he replied frantically. "I don't want to hurt you. Just hand it over."
Circe blinked up at him, uncomprehending, but there was no time to think. The man lunged at her with his hands outstretched, and Circe was forced to be faster.
Immediately, warmth flooded into her fingers at will, like all her blood was returning after her circulation had been cut off. A burst of offensive magic from her hand sent the other witch crashing into the floor, his forehead skidding against the floor and dragging burn marks into his skin.
He lifted his head gingerly, but Circe was already on her feet, billowing over him.
"I don't want to hurt you either," she said, her hands white-hot. "But I will." She slammed down her fist, and the other witch's eyes rolled back into his head.
Taking a moment to compose herself, Circe closed her hand over her mouth and exhaled deeply. She examined the ring in her hands. There was a 3 etched in a little circle on the outward face of the band, crooked at the top. Kneeling, she squinted at the man's hands, one splayed to the side and the other tucked at his torso. The one to the side appeared unadorned, but as Circe prodded the one he had curled close, she noticed another similar ring on his thumb.
Circe grappled with her conscious for a long moment, before sliding the ring off and shuffling back quickly, almost awaiting retaliation.
The other witch remained unconscious.
Circe brought the ring up to the light, holding it up to the lanterns that hung on every square metre of the ceiling. 1 was marked on the outward face.
She was starting to figure out the aim of this trial.
Circe spared another glance down, forcing herself to take a long look at the man's face, to remember what she did.
Then, she kept moving.
***
"The Seelies know?" Pasiphae echoed. "Know what?"
Lauha didn't get a chance to answer her. There was a sudden blaze of light in the tunnels, and then Naeyrs barrelled into view, her mouth pinched tight.
"What is she doing here?" she demanded.
Lauha frowned at the other girl's tone. "Please calm down. This is Pasiphae of Eo. She's here to end it all."
Pasiphae reeled back. "What does that even mean?"
"The spirits talk," Lauha said by way of explanation. The banshee began to wander off, but Pasiphae rushed to stop her, grabbing her arm tightly.
"The spirits talk about death, not my identity," she insisted.
Lauha simply shrugged.
"Are you responsible for the sylphs, then?" Naeyrs asked Pasiphae.
"I was going to ask you the same."
Naeyrs turned on her heel. "Come with me."
"And what are you?" Pasiphae asked, reluctantly letting Lauha go. She scuttled after Naeyrs. "Not one of the fae, it would seem."
"No, only a spy," Naeyrs said simply. She held out her arm, and with a flick of her wrist, her skin turned red—scorching, smokeless fire.
Pasiphae sighed. At this point she had given up believing Khotadi was the exclusive Unseelie country. She wouldn't even be surprised if an undine came waddling in the next second.
"You're a jinni."
And it would seem, not the culprit that Pasiphae was looking for.
Naeyrs grinned, showing her inch-long fangs for the first time, nestled on either side of her two front teeth.
"One indebted to the Seelie throne, unfortunately. I am not here because it is amusing to me. What are you trying to do right now?"
Pasiphae blinked at the question. She could keep up with neither the fast pace at which they walked nor the fast conversation. "Excuse me?"
"What is your endeavour?" Naeyrs rephrased. "We're working for the wellbeing of the Seelie Court, and according to Lauha, you're trying to stop the Mors, correct?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"What are you trying to do? We are obligated to help."
It wasn't like Pasiphae had a lot of options left for help. "I need to find where the sylphs are coming from."
Naeyrs nodded briskly. "Then we shall."
***
Circe's neck was covered in a sheen of sweat. She had been crouched in the corner for a while now after she heard pacing from the next wall over. She hadn't wanted another confrontation, so she thought that she would wait until the footsteps passed by. But they were still shuffling, as if turning in circles.
She eased her ankle out from underneath her body, giving it a stretch, before doing the same with the other.
"Come on," Circe muttered. She brushed the two rings on her fingers. "Leave already."
Curiously, she reached out with her magic, giving a slight shove to see what resistance she would be up against. The witch on the other side felt her tug immediately, and before Circe could pull back, the hollow area behind her collarbone tightened and told her that this responding magic was familiar.
Circe gasped, shooting to her feet and preparing to run, but a silhouette had appeared before her within seconds, legs wide and arms raised, ready for an attack.
"Don't move," Suhai ordered, his palm face-up, a pistol in its own right.
Circe ignored his warning and immediately raised her own hand, mirroring his exact stance.
They were at a standstill, each seeing the rings on the other's hand. Suhai wore one on his pointer finger and the other on his ring finger. He had 2 and 4.
If either one of them moved, this would turn into a battle.
"Kee," he said.
Red anger jumped to her throat. "You don't know me enough to call me that."
"We've been in the same coven since birth," Suhai said. He took a minuscule step closer.
"And you speak to me perhaps once every year." Circe's fingers twitched. "Tell me, Suhai, why do you want to be Divine?"
"I wasn't aware this was an interview."
"I suppose it's time to get to know the traitors of the sector."
Suhai paused, almost bewildered. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Circe whispered coldly. "You can't possibly think I'd have forgotten." She slowly moved closer, step by step, and Suhai responded in backing away. They circled each other, tense, each with the prowess of a predator that didn't want to back down into sub-ordinance.
"The day my sister gets accused of associating with the fae," Circe continued, her words striking with poison, "you make a remark about her history."
She lunged forward, and Suhai stepped back just as quickly.
"That's a sign of someone's guilt?" Suhai snapped. "I never saw eye to eye with Pasiphae but I have more important things to do than draw up a complex plan to get her disqualified for Divine."
"I doubt that." Suhai frowned severely. "Really, if you want to look towards who could want to uproot your sister, I'd look closer into your own group of friends."
Circe dropped to the ground just as Suhai tried to go for a surprise strike. They stilled, with Circe poised on all fours and Suhai against the wall.
"What does that mean?"
Circe pounced up and closed both her fists around each other, throwing her arms above her head and bringing them down. Suhai darted away from the wall at the last second, and she scraped her hands along the wall instead.
"I mean—" he panted, behind her now, "—that you should be questioning Arche's motives instead."
Circe froze. "Arche?" she repeated, whipping around.
"Yes," Suhai snapped. "Not only would she be far more aware of Pasiphae's true abilities, but you must certainly recall how surprised she was to see her on the carriage the day of the initiation."
The day of the initiation... Circe had felt like it was a lifetime ago, and drudging up the memory felt fuzzy.
"Right before Rhoden mistook your sister for you," Suhai prompted. "Arche had the fright of her life seeing Pasiphae, who was not lying comatose in her bed as a strand found on her pillow would suggest. Pasiphae assumed the surprise was because of her messy cosmetics. Later, I put together an alternate theory."
Now Circe remembered, the picture of the other girl's shock flooding back in vivid technicolour.
"How do you recall this?" she asked, stunned.
Suhai shrugged, almost looking amused. "I have had my suspicions about that witch for a long time now."
"Yet you told no one!" Circe exclaimed, throwing a strike of magic.
Suhai fended it off easily. "Like I said—" he bent his knees, "—not the biggest fan of your sister."
He charged at her, but Circe was angry now, and she responded with just as much force. She threw out a heavy push, knocking Suhai back on his shoulder.
Circe was breathless, having spent so much of her power. She should have waited until he was closer.
"Out of energy already?" he sneered. "Of course."
Circe was tossed off her feet. Her head slammed against the floor, hard enough that something rattled inside her skull.
Her vision spun dangerously.
"You were never competition," Suhai was saying, his steps nearing.
Circe shut her eyes and forced them to clear. Her fists were clenched so tightly that she was drawing blood in her palms, tricking from her sharp nails onto the floor.
She waited until he hovered above her, his boot raising.
"Suhai," she rasped. "Please."
He faltered. In that moment of hesitation, Circe raised her bloody fist and crushed the lantern above them with magic. The candle inside snapped out, and all the glass shards of the cover embedded into Suhai.
He cried out and promptly fell to his knees. Circe scrambled up just in time to catch the boy before he went topping headfirst, his eyes having rolled into the back of his head.
With the last sliver of magic she had left sloshing in her heart, she flicked out the glass pieces and closed the wounds on Suhai's neck with the barest healing.
Please, please, please...
She held her breath, her gut clenched as she felt for his pulse. Her mind spluttered when she felt no movement, only coldness, for a moment. Then, a thump came to life, and she exhaled in relief.
"No hard feelings, I hope," she muttered, prying the two rings off his fingers.
Circe got up and kept running.