Page 3 of Dark as the Cursed Abyss

Mykonos purred, rubbing along Chloe’s legs in agreement. “We will miss you too, Chloe. But we will all be back together soon.”

It would only be a few months. A few months on the seas and in these kingdoms, searching for allies that might help defeat the feared Olympi.

A few months until the real battle would begin.

There was a tradition on Nexos that stood out more than all the others: the sendoff of a ship and her crew to a long journey. Chloe said her goodbyes to her dearest uncle Cal and of course the seer and her psychí, even her dastardly brother.

One person, however, was missing from the small collection of court members that led the crew to the docks and left them with cheers and waves as cleats were undone and the Aphrodite’s sails filled to make her way toward Skiatha.

Farah.

The southern princess was nowhere in sight, not since her meeting this morning with the king and queen. It was typical of the woman to disappear; gods, she had left a few years ago without a word. Not even to Chloe. She still thought about the moment she woke up three years ago to a cold bed, not even a note left on the neatly tucked sheets. Chloe had never spoken a word of it to anyone, too embarrassed to admit she was scorned by such a woman.

Chloe Athena Kirassos was Princess of Nexos, beta of the Nexian wolves, and Goddess of Persuasion. She was no fool. Not even for the chestnut-haired, intoxicating sorceress from the south.

Running through the pleasantries of court, Chloe curtsied and nodded to the others along the dock before she made her way back toward the markets. She would find the stubborn woman and drag her back to the castle kicking and screaming if she had to. Neither of them wanted to sail to Hespali, but Chloe sure as shit was not getting blamed for whatever tricks Farah had up her sleeve to get out of the journey.

Farah fucked her over once, and she was about to learn the consequence of doing it a second time.

Sliding her hood up over her hair, Chloe weaved through the market streets, quiet and lethal. According to Nexian tradition, she should be back at the temple blessing the Aphrodite before its perilous journey across the Mykandrian and Manos seas. If she was caught by the guards there would be hell to pay. Her parents did not care if she scampered off to the tavernas and spent her evenings wandering the streets of the seaside town, but formally it was a disgrace to disrespect the Grechi in that manner.

When your father was the god you prayed to, it seemed a bit crass.

The late morning’s sun warmed slightly, casting its amber glow about the whitewashed buildings of the cliff kingdom. She trailed past each one, inhaling a mix of burning wood and sugar and yeast of breakfast pastries. Beneath her fur cloak, Chloe’s stomach let out a growl. Not now, she commanded it, though it was her own fault for not sneaking one of the croissants from the kitchen before she left for the docks.

Cart sellers and patrons strolled alongside her, preparing for what would surely be a busy day. The winter solstice was more than a month away, but that did not prevent Nexians from finding simple joys of Haloa early. Men and women alike browsed for trinkets and specialties to gift to loved ones, trying different food along the winding path through the center of the town.

Chloe would much rather be doing just that than sneaking about after the southern spy. She slipped up to Athena’s, the Kirassos family’s favorite taverna on the isle, although none would openly admit that except Chloe and her eldest brother. Who could blame her, it was called after her namesake.

She peered her head in, stepping past the stone perimeter. Despite the open sides of the establishment, once Chloe passed the threshold a rush of warm air would hit her, spelled for the daunting winter months. There were a few people seated around the taverna, though not nearly as many as after dark. Athena’s was the place to be for supper and further into the night, known for live music and Marianna’s special ouzo recipe that no one could seem to replicate.

Looking around, Farah was nowhere in sight. Good. At least she didn’t break into the ouzo so early, unless she left already, moving on to the next place.

“Mari,” Chloe called into the back kitchen, “you in there?”

A woman, not much older than Chloe stumbled out of the kitchen, apron on and flour streaked across her cheeks and scattered in her hair. “Lo! Surprise to see you here so early!” Marianna said, wiping dirty hands on her apron.

“I am technically not here if anyone asks.” Chloe held a finger up to her lips and Mari smirked back with a light shake of her head. “Have you seen a woman come through here? Curvy, most likely dressed in leathers, amber eyes, long brown hair?”

Marianna let out a laugh. “You’ve just about described half this kingdom, Lo. But if you were asking about the southern princess, no, I have not.”

Chloe’s lips twisted to the side. Maybe she overreacted. Maybe Farah was simply back at the castle, packing her trunks for the journey.

“I did hear about a round of cards starting down at the Iron Wolf, though.”

Or maybe Chloe was totally fucked.

“Just my luck,” she sighed before Marianna gave her a curt smile and a cock to her head.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Lo. I’m sure if Farah’s down there, she hasn’t gotten into half the shit your brother used to. Probably just blowing off some steam before you two set sail.”

Marianna was being far too reasonable. Blowing off steam, Chloe could completely understand. Wallowing in liquor, smokes, and cards was a totally different venture.

“I hope you’re right, Mari.” Chloe doubted she was.

“You come see me before you leave, alright? I have something for you. A good luck charm of sorts.”

Chloe’s features softened for a moment and her hands unclenched. “I’ll try to make it back tonight, then. Thanks for your help.”