Treachery Queen (The Callistra Chronicles #1)

TWENTY-FOUR

Chapter Twenty-Four

"What, right now?"

Circe rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, woozily pushing herself upright in bed. Her elbows sunk deep into her pillows, and she was almost tempted to just lie back down again.

"Yes, right now," her mother whispered. "She's waiting by the door."

Circe shot out of the blankets, hopping out of her nightclothes and into a large dress, swinging her cloak over her shoulders.

"Kee!" her mother warned as Circe bounced right into the frame of the narrow doorway in her rush.

Wincing, she kept moving.

A council member was indeed standing outside the door, illuminated by the lantern clutched in her hand. Circe paused at the edge of the lounge, then quickened her pace to greet the visitor.

"Hello," she said, clearing her throat. "Can I help you?"

"Circe of Eo?" the witch at the door clarified, ducking her head a little to squint at Circe.

"That's me."

The witch inclined her head. "I'm Zera. Come with me."

Circe stopped short. "Now?" Her glance went to the ticking time keeper by the kitchen. "It's four o'clock in the morning."

"A Divine would be summoned at all sorts of strange hours," Zera said simply, already walking away. "Quickly."

***

Pasiphae wiped at the gash on Seth's forehead with a wet cloth, one that was slightly soaked with alcohol from the den.

He had been stealing glances at her every so often, but Pasiphae didn't say a word, and she could tell that it was making him nervous.

"What?" he finally demanded.

Pasiphae made an ambiguous noise.

He stood up suddenly then, and Pasiphae had to pull back in haste to avoid stabbing the cloth into his eye.

"Damn it, Saf, I know you're going to ask about the wrong royal blood," Seth exploded. "I don't want to talk about it."

He marched away in a huff, striding into the crowd.

Pasiphae was left staring bewildered at his backside.

"I wasn't going to ask!"

***

It was a quiet dawn in the household, and with Pasiphae and Circe both gone, Ophiua didn't know what else to do except clutch a bowl of tea in her hands and stare at the table.

Nikolaus had the fright of his life when he walked into the kitchen and saw his wife sitting as still as a statue in the hazy dark.

"Ophiua?" He lit a candle, and an orange glow merged with the cold, blue glow that came from the nearby horizon.

The kitchen appeared split between two worlds.

"She thinks I don't know what she's doing," Ophiua said suddenly, looking up from her tea. "Like we didn't raise them or something."

Nikolaus sat down opposite her, grabbing a ceramic cup. "What are you talking about?"

Ophiua massaged the bridge of her nose. She swallowed before replying. "The Divine, Kol. Circe is only running to keep the position from getting into the wrong hands." The tea was already cold. "I know them. Pasiphae has run off to try find the person responsible and Circe is making sure no one else seizes power before Pasiphae is successful."