“I wouldn’t advise it, Your Majesty. He is… insistent.”
Some courtiers had been pushier about divine audiences than others. A few of the more pious ones had resorted to standing in the North Sanctuary day in and day out, refusing to move until they had their moment with their god. Bartolmy was one of their number.
With a weary sigh, Jax stood. “I’ll take care of this in short order, hopefully. If not…” He turned and looked at Alie, achingly earnest. “It has been a pleasure, my lady. I look forward to making our future plans.”
“I’ll bet you do,” Apollius said with a grin.
Jax followed Alexis back out the door, the two of them speaking in low tones.
Showtime.
Apollius’s smile grew sharper corners. “Clever,” He said softly.
She refused to show Him fear, though that was the only thing running through her, cold as Lereal’s wind. Alie said nothing, staring at Him, willing her friend forward. Willing her half brother to take control, if only for a moment.
A spasm in Apollius’s fingers, still wrapped around a fork. A flicker of brown in His golden eyes.
“Fuck,” Apollius hissed through His teeth. His hand lifted, the fork falling. His body cramped to the side, expression in flux between fury and fierce determination.
He fell over, nearly out of the chair, the spasm in His fingers traveling through the rest of Him, muscles twitching.
When He sat up, his eyes were dark, with no trace of gold.
Bastian.
Alie’s hands fluttered in her lap, once again fighting back the instinct to run to him and make sure he was all right. But Bastian was strictly business; he knew their time was short.
“The ring,” he said, his voice hoarse. “The one I gave Lore when we got engaged. It’s a map. Or something like a map, anyway.”
She nodded, no time for wondering how a piece of jewelry could be a map. “Where is it?”
He grimaced. “That’s the thing. I don’t—” His mouth pulled to the side, eyes flashing gold before going brown again. “It’s hidden. Somewhere dark; that’s all I know. You’ll have to—”
Bastian’s head wrenched to an alarming angle, every tendon in his throat standing out in sharp relief, his entire body quaking so hard, she thought he might break a bone.
It shook Alie from the staid, cold shell she’d built around herself for this dinner. Apollius wouldn’t kill Bastian, not on purpose—He needed his body. But she couldn’t imagine things would go well for Bastian if he pushed too far.
She jumped up from her chair and rushed to Bastian’s side,putting one hand on his forehead as if she could soothe Apollius out of him like a fever. “Bastian, don’t strain too hard, it’s all right…”
The tremors stopped, one last seize before Bastian’s body went limp. Her heart and stomach changed places in the seconds it took him to breathe again, her pulse hitting so hard she felt it in the back of her tongue.
His neck slowly bent forward, overcoming the weight of His head in an unnatural roll. Apollius grinned at her, golden eyes bright, a gleam of sweat across His brow. “He put up quite a fight that time.”
Alie backed away, wiping the hands that had touched Him on her bodice.
Apollius shook out His limbs as if Bastian were an irritating insect to banish. “That was a bold move, Alienor. I didn’t think you had it in you.” He chuckled. “You’ll do an excellent job keeping Jax in line, if you stop pushing Me.”
He should be raging at her. She would be less afraid if He was.
Completely unruffled, Apollius leaned forward in His seat, elbows braced on His knees, and gave her a sliver of a smile. It looked so much like one of Bastian’s expressions, the one he had right before he eviscerated someone with his words. Seeing how they melted into each other made dread chew at the bottom of her spine.
“Do you think,” He said softly, “that you are really that cunning, Alie?”
Alie schooled her face to impassivity and said nothing, nothing, though her hands fisted in her skirt hard enough that she felt threads breaking beneath her fingernails.
“I have kept you alive primarily as a mercy,” Apollius said, as cool and collected as if they were discussing the weather. “There are easier ways than murder to get what I need from you, and I would much prefer them. I am not a brute, despite what Mywife’s mortal costume would have you believe.” He sneered. “I can be infinitely reasonable. The fact is that you are more useful to Me alive than dead. Jax likes you, and I grow weary of jumping through his hoops. Having something to distract him makes My life much easier.”
Her mind raced as more silken threads broke beneath her panicked grip. He knew. Of course He knew, just like Lilia said. But if He did, if there was a way to force her to give up Lereal’s power, why wasn’t He doing it? What did He gain from allowing her to keep it?
