Chapter Thirty One: Dragon's Breath

Elysium is like a giant cog.

From the top of the steps, the view of the city of the dead makes it much clearer to know how high up we are. On the other side from where we climbed up, a sheer cliff face drops into a ravine, far below. That same water snakes all the way from a line of blue in the distance-- the waterfall I'd fallen from in the hopes of getting here.

From this angle, it's no bigger than my pinkie.

And between us, Elysium becomes an industrial monster of ramshackle buildings; ugly iron casts in the further districts, elevating to pretty terracotta midway and becoming flawless marble tile at Chronus' closest neighbours. Even the security, which starts as large steel gates separating out the furthest districts, becomes more lax the closer to Chronus' palace. Metal latches and padlocks and anti-vandal paint gives way to picket fences that can just about pen sheep.

Of course Chronus wouldn't want his view in the morning tarnished by ugly , truthful sights.

An excitable voice interrupts my grudges of the villanous ruler, and from the hidden twitch of Hadrian's muscles, I suspect it caught him by surprise too.

Mercer, never one to hold a grudge, has already forgotten about being forgotten, and is tapping me on the shoulder wildly.

'Look, look!' He cries, his breath coming out in puffs of cloud. 'I'm a dragon!'

He blows his breath in my face.

The air is quickly caught on the breeze and moved on; we, however, remain staring at one another, and my expression is flat.

Mercer laughs again. 'Come on, don't be afraid of the dragon! Ra--'

'Stop,' says Hadrian. His voice sounds pained.

'I did that in primary school...' I shake my head. 'Minoa is always cold, and dismal, and dull. Every kid went through that phase.'

Mercer shrugs, 'I wasn't allowed to go outside very much,' he murmurs. 'Especially not with children my age. I think my father feared I'd turn out wild like my elder brother.'

'Because of the cold?' Hadrian and I ask in unison, our eyebrows symmetrically raised and matching sneers echoed on one another's faces. Even the guard, silent in her waiting, gives Mercer a curious look.

Mercer just glares at us. 'Nobody ever appreciates me...'

'I just forgot that you were alive,' I say, dead pan, 'but that's all-- not that I don't appreciate you.'

Hadrian suppresses a grin.

The guard gives a small, polite cough, and the three of us continue on up the final steps to the palace.

If the city gets prettier towards the centre, then the middle is the biggest attraction, and it's no different than I would imagine for Chronus. Great white columns of marble form an impressive entrance, holding up an imperious archway trimmed with gold leaves and vines. Beneath our feet, tiny tiles are placed together with exquisite detail to form patterns; weaving fish of the sea, a bear of the land, and eagle of the air, and highest of all, the sun.

The guard asks Mercer to escort us whilst she leads her horse back to the stables. The boy reddens, and then nods, leading us through the building.

The space is hollow, lined by white-robed servants, dressed similarly to Mercer, as we cross the square hall. There is no furniture here, I notice: it's strictly a path, and there's nothing homely about it.

What was I expecting? I nearly sigh out loud. Pictures of Hadrian and Chronus as babies? The family hellhound? Cerberus's puppy?

The next room is much more like I imagined; Chronus has a family tree, inked in silver and gold, marking the entrance to the throne room, as if to remind his guests of who they're about to complain to. I step through the door to a huge chamber, patterned tiles continuing, and a crystal chandelier dipping low from the ceiling. It's extravagant enough without the suits of armour (white and gold armour, I might add) standing at the edges of the room.

What should be the throne room for audiences with Chronus  is in fact his party pad; souls, all wearing necklaces like Mercer's, mill around the edges. Servants, clad in simple white robes, bring around trays of canapes and offering bubbly drinks. Merry laughter bursts throughout the room, with occasional stifles of giggles and exclamations.  At least thirty people are stood around, mingling with one another, chatting carefree whilst somewhere, those unfortunate souls like me toil in a mine.

And in the middle is the biggest mingler. His eyes light up as he listens to a joke from where he's sat jauntily on his throne, his posture relaxed. Curling vines on a golden crown sit atop his yellow corn hair, trimmed and primped like an adonis. Today, he's not wearing armour; he's adopted the white fashion, and bears it in the form of a toga, tied with golden clasps. His face, when he catches another mingler's eye, turns towards them in delicate feline features of a predator disguised.

He has the face of a conman.

'If you hang on, I'll request an audience with his ma--'

I shove the guard at the door aside, growling audibly. Mercer yelps my name, and I see Hadrian sigh-- he knows me well enough that he simply folds his arms and watches to see what happens.

I barge through the crowd, striding past groups of chatterers and hearing them gasp in my wake. I must look a sight to them; muddy, bedraggled and wearing colours that aren't white. My hair streams at my shoulders, and I can feel my nose starting to run, it's so warm in here.

Thankfully, there's enough disrupted chatter for me to sniff without anyone noticing.

But the chatter dies once I face the man on the golden throne, and I take satisfaction in the temporary surprise that his features show.

But then it's gone, and the conman is back, ready to bluff.

'Nerissa...was it?' Chronus' smile is eerie. 'We didn't have a proper chance to get introduced, thanks to my brother. How very rude of him, not to introduce me to his concubine.'

Titters run through the crowd like birds scattering in flight.

'Oh, but I suppose you two were a little preoccupied last time,' the Elysian King grins even further, and I realise that I may have taken him by surprise, but he's loving this new twist in the game.

It's just another knife for him to sink into his opponent.

I try not to shiver.

There's audible whispering now, and I feel my insides shrivel.

Shut up, you mean bastard! I want to scream. You're twisting things! It isn't like that!

Hadrian is watching me from the corner of the room; I see him, standing in Chronus' blind spot, so that I can take this one by myself, exactly how I'd wanted. I can get out of this myself.

Chronus is getting to me because he knows I'm squirming. He's distracting everyone from the real reason I'm here by playing with me-- playing with my emotions for Hadrian. He loves it. He's watching his very own theatrical performance if I give in and start denying his accusations.

I take a deep breath. Accept and move on.

'Yes...' I set my tone into a nonchalant drawl, and force a smirk as I survey the room. Several people catch my eye and look away quickly, taken aback. Then, I focus back on Chronus, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. 'We were busy. And, we've been even busier...winning our bet, of course.'

For a second even splitter than the surprise, I see irritation cross Chronus' face.

And from my peripheral vision, I sense Hadrian's triumphant smile.

The chatter rises again; this time, it's not so airy. There's a murmuring because of what I'd said.

'I'm here to claim my reward,' I demand, placing my hands on my hips. 'I made it here, fair and square. Now take off this chain around my neck, and send Hadrian, Mercer and I home.'

Chattering erupts. Immediately, Chronus' hand sweeps out to his side to silence the hall, and voices drop off. The ruler stands, and I can see the predatory smile has returned.

'Oh? And are you certain you fulfilled the bargain? You had no help from my little brother?'

I swallow. This is what I'd feared, and I couldn't show it. I glare, and nod, 'No help.'

Chronus steps towards me. 'Could you take a test to prove it? No, could you subject Hadrian to the test, and let him be punished if you're lying?'

That fucking coward. My eyes narrow. 'You know that's cheating. I win-- he didn't lift a finger.'

I repeat Chronus' words back at him; Hadrian hadn't helped me physically. At least, not with a finger...

'Verity!' Chronus turns and yells, a surprisingly human gesture that makes the ladies and gentlemen around him flinch.

The guard from earlier comes charging forward. She's out of breath, but she sinks low to one knee.

'What do you require, sir?'

'Use your little test on my brother.'

Verity raises her head, glancing uncertainly at me. My face is pinched tight with anger, and she looks back at her master, confused.

Chronus grows impatient. 'Now, Verity.'

'It will...hurt him, sir,' Verity whispers, and for the first time, she seems to falter obeying Chronus' command. Her words send another stirring of conversation, but Chronus swipes this one away too.

'A price we'll have to pay if these two star-crossed lovers are lying,' he hisses. 'Now!'

Guards, at the edge of the room, move to secure Hadrian. He's already walking by his own volition, sending them a look that makes them back off, practically scampering away from him.

Hadrian lazily reaches the centre of the room, where he steps in between Chronus and me. Facing his brother, he says something in a low voice-- something so low, I don't hear. But when he turns back to me, he gives me a brilliant smile.

My throat is so dry I can barely swallow, so when I talk, my voice croaks. 'What are you smiling about?' I whisper.

Hadrian touches a hand to my arm. 'You're taking me home.'

'Begin,' Chronus says, and Verity turns Hadrian to face her, so that I'm staring at his side profile, and Chronus is still opposite me. I can see his leering smile.

Verity places her hand on Hadrian's forehead.

'Did Hadrian lift a finger to help you?'

'...no,' I say.

Nothing happens-- Hadrian doesn't flinch, Verity doesn't move. I almost sigh with relief, except I notice that the audience is still waiting with baited breath, wide-eyed.

It's not over.

'Did Hadrian accompany you on your way out?'

'...yes,' I say, perplexed. The rules never stated that he couldn't come with me; what is Chronus playing at.

'And how did you escape?'

'Through the sewers.' More chatting, whispering, growing louder.

'Through the sewers...' Chronus grins. 'That must have been an ordeal. Did you come across any creatures down there?'

'Yes,' I reply. 'Any that attacked me I took out. Not Hadrian. Again, he didn't help.'

My answers are growing more confident with every question that doesn't cripple my husband in pain.

'I heard that there was quite a ruckus when you got out, though. When you passed through Elysian Fields, you had a realisation didn't you?'

I go cold. How does he know all of this? I barely know, and I lived through it! What does he mean by realisation? The gift...?

'I did learn something, yes,' I say, 'I was able to control the nature around me.'

The grin explodes. It's so bright, I'm dreading what he's about to say.

Chronus says, 'And what made you able to do that?'

I'm breathing faster now; my belly is twisting painfully, and my own brain is gently pushing forwards the information Chronus wants. How does he know?

How can he know about this?

It's not possible.

I glance at Hadrian. He's looking at me, even though his head is turned at an awkward angle away. I realise that he's actually interested in the answer: why did Nerissa all of a sudden get the ability to grow grass?

I can almost hear his thoughts: she didn't have an ounce of talent before. What changed her?

And I know why. Gods, Gods, I don't want to-- not if it means I have to answer this question truthfully. The only person I don't want to hear it is standing right beside me, looking at me with those curious eyes of his.

'I...' I stammer, and I'm scared I'm going to vomit. Perhaps vomiting would be a kinder alternative. 'I don't know...'

But before the words are even fully out, Hadrian screams.

Verity's face looks appalled as the man falls to his knees, his head still before her palm as though attracted like a magnet. He's no longer looking at me, but wincing and scrunching in pain, and I cry, 'Stop! I do know! I do!'

Immediately, Hadrian breathes out in a puff of relief on the floor. Verity still holds his head, however, and I know it's only a temporary lapse.

If I don't tell the truth...it will happen again.

'You do know? What is it, Nerissa?' Chronus is enjoying himself immensely; sick, sick man. His brother is tearing before him! 'What was it you realised, that gave you the power of Spring?'

The room goes deathly quiet.

'I am in love with him,' I say.

I stare into the distance; not at Hadrian, because I can't bear to see his reaction, and not at Chronus, because I don't want to see his sick grin. He surely can't do any worse. No, I stare at the whiteness of the wall.

There's a minute or so of beautiful silence, before Chronus said quietly...'And did realising your love for Hadrian enable you to get out of the sewers?'

A sharp intake of breath-- my own.

Chronus' game hadn't just been my humiliation. He'd also worked it so that I'd lose everything too, because if Hadrian had inadvertently helped me out, then the bet was his.

---

MUAHAHA! Cliff hanger central. What do you think?

A good way for Ness to confess? Or will she be able to B/S her way out of it?

Comment your thoughts....pleeeeease!

lots of love

Larissa