Page 5 of Dark as the Cursed Abyss

Why again was she not the one charged with aiding Thalia? Dimitris would have been much better suited to who Farah had become after these years—a gambling spy who apparently took little care with her work. Even on their journey to rescue Alexander she had been reckless with her safety and everyone around her. The southern princess lacked the capacity to follow directives and keep a low profile. The exact opposite personality of any spy Chloe had worked with before. How had Ajax kept his favorite katáskopos a secret all these years?

“Your mother and father will do nothing. They are already sending us to our deaths, why not enjoy the time we have left.” Arching one brow and tilting her lips into a smirk, Farah said, “I do believe I remember a few…activities…you used to enjoy.”

The muscles in Chloe’s back tensed as she straightened her back and stoned her face. No note. No goodbye. Nothing but a cold and empty bed. “We are not being sent to our deaths, Farah. We are being sent to court to negotiate like the diplomats my parents believe us to be. Now act like it.”

“Clearly your mother has left out—”

“We are going, Farah. Grab your cloak and whatever else you brought to this lurid establishment and head to your room.”

A twitch formed in Farah’s upper lip. “I do not take orders from you.”

Sending up a tiny prayer to the Grechi for the smallest bit of patience, Chloe whispered, “Do not make me do this, Farah.”

The southern princess stood firm, reaching her hand out to the barkeep who had returned with two more mugs of what looked to be bitter ale rather than rum. Clutching one in her hand, Farah brought it to her lips and chugged the whole thing dry, letting out a tiny burb as she slammed the empty mug down.

“That is it! I am done with this nonsense,” Chloe growled. She stepped toward Farah, pinching the princess’s chin between her thumb and pointer finger. Eyes dilating, Chloe crooked her head slightly. “You will leave with me now, return to the castle, pack your things, and be on the Parataxis tomorrow morning.”

The tension in Farah’s features lessened and she nodded, but as the princess began to walk toward the door as Chloe commanded, she stumbled once more over her feet. This day could not possibly get any worse.

“Alright, katáskopos, you’re not going to like this.” Chloe grabbed Farah around the waist and hoisted her up over her shoulder, clutching behind her knees to lock the princess in place.

“Is this how you treat all nobility who come to your isle?” Farah questioned as she squirmed, attempting to break loose from Chloe’s hold. Chloe only gripped tighter and strode with ease toward the door, opening it with her other hand and stepping back into the shimmering sunlight of the Nexian markets.

After a moment, Farah relaxed. “I wouldn’t have thought you were capable of hauling me all the way to the castle,” she muttered.

Letting out a small laugh, Chloe whispered more into the chilled air of Nexos than to Farah, “I am a goddess, you have no idea what I am capable of.”

Chapter Four

Farah

Putrid liquid stuck to the roof of Farah’s mouth before sliding down her throat. It tasted ashy and a bit like spoiled eggs with a hint of fish. As soon as the liquid settled in her stomach it threatened to run back up and spew all across the chaise where she’d collapsed. Tang and copper formed on her tongue and Farah leaned her head back, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Why won’t this gods-damned room stop spinning?” The walls shifted around her, a constant loop of white-washed stone and navy silk curtains.

“Because.” Farah let out a yelp at the sound of Chloe’s voice. Where did the wolf even come from? “You drank your weight in rum and then proceeded to finish it off with the worst possible bitter ale on the isle. What did you expect?”

Ah, right. Not her best idea. Mixing alcohols had never worked in her favor, especially when the first of them was rum. That menacing drink was both her greatest lover and most wicked adversary. Usually, when she drank the sweet liquor, she ended up back home with someone, but the only other person in the room was the Nexian princess. Oh gods.

“We didn’t— You know…” she asked sheepishly, scraping her hands down her face. It wouldn’t have been the first time she ended up in the wolf’s bed.

Scowling, Chloe clacked her nails together in a tick. “We did not.” Her tone was…angry?

“Good,” Farah replied.

Except, would it have been such a bad thing if the princess and her slept together? It was time they moved past the incident from years before. It wasn’t as if Farah had meant to leave without a word—or a measly note—but when a katáskopos is called into duty, not even a beautiful woman half naked in bed could delay their charge.

“So, if we weren’t intimate,” Farah said, drawing out the last word, “why exactly are you here? And what gods-awful beverage did I just sip?”

“That is a tonic Cal likes to whip up when my brothers become too intoxicated. It is foul, but it will sober you up faster than any other potion you could purchase in the markets. I avoid indulging too much for that very reason.” She clasped her hand together, rubbing thumb over thumb. “As for how you ended up back in your room, I carried you.”

Farah reluctantly raised the cup to her mouth for another sip of Cal’s concoction. Could even the God of Craft not make something taste the tiniest bit better? Her brow kicked up in a questioning gaze. “You? Carried me? From the Iron Wolf all the way back here?” That was well over a mile.

“I did. You made quite the raucous in the streets all the way home, slamming your fists against my back and yelling at me to put you down. Rather embarrassing for you, if I do say so.”

“I was shouting in the streets?” Gods, could today possibly get any worse? Farah needed off this isle as soon as possible, even if it meant dealing with Avra’s wrath.

Chloe laughed, crisp and enchanting, not like her usual menacing snicker. “No, you passed out moments after I hauled you from the taverna. It was easy from there.”