Astarte's Wrath (25 page)

“D
on’t even think of
it, Phoenix.” I eye him sternly.

Flame dances in the center of his palm, the tiny fire curling and swaying. “She has to learn about Narco power eventually.” Ignoring my glare, he moves the little, flickering flame before Caesarie.

Her brilliant blue eyes reflect the flame’s amber glow as they enlarge. She mumbles the word fire, which sounds closer to “
p
ire”, and stretches her tiny, plump digits out to grasp it.

“Don’t touch,” I tell her, capturing her hand. “Only watch, Xarie.”

Her lips spread wide, revealing her little white teeth, as Phoenix casts the flame higher. My heart swells and sinks at once. She looks so much like her father when she smiles, her lips the same full shape, her cheeks bearing his slight dimples. I ache to be with him. But I mourn leaving my daughter.

It’s bittersweet agony.

Pushing my frail frame against the headboard, I try to sit up—to look healthy for Xarie. I don’t want my child’s last memories of me to be filled with my illness. The child, by Kythan law, I shouldn’t have been able to conceive. Whether it was the fact that Xarion was a pharaoh, or the gods chose to bless me, I’ll never be sure. But I choose to believe it was the bond between Xarion and me that made it possible.

Phoenix curls his fingers into his palm, extinguishing his Flame. “Want me to take her out to play?”

I nod. “Please. Just for a little while . . . until it’s time.”

Sadness rims his luminous eyes with deep, dark shadows. “We won’t be long.” After he hoists Xarie onto his back, he clasps my hand and squeezes. Then he races a squealing three-year-old into the desert sun.

It’s so brutal here in the outskirts of Memphis that I almost call after them—remind Phoenix to pull up her hood—but the sound of her small laugh stops me. He takes good care of her. And he always will.

After the ultimate power wreaked much havoc on my body, I collapsed. Fadil did not lie to me; I was not made to house this much power. When Phoenix found me half-dead near the bank of the harbor—guardians and soldiers raving about a slave gone mad and calling for my execution—he shepherded us out of Alexandria and into the desert.

We claimed a small settlement near Memphis as our new home, where Phoenix could easily travel to a populated human city. He offered his servitude to a weapon’s specialist as a blacksmith, his Flame improving the Egyptian’s small iron smelting business. And I offered mine to an old Greek noble woman who adores glass jewelry. She loves it so she comes to my hut to gather it—which alleviated much of the burden of reserving my fading power source.

Word soon came of Octavian boasting his conquest over Egypt. He took monuments and statues from ancient temples and had them restored in Alexandria in honor of himself. He wouldn’t permit the funeral rites to be performed over the royal family. He kept their sarcophaguses in Cleopatra’s mausoleum, showcased as his triumphant conquest over the pharaohs.

Even though Xarion hadn’t appeared to me since that horrid day in Alexandria, I knew his
Akh
was bound to the earth, roaming, waiting to be welcomed into the underworld. I couldn’t allow Octavian to win this final battle over the Ptolemies.

And I would not tolerate Octavian keeping Xarion as his trophy.

Phoenix and I became grave robbers.

Using the secret access in the Library, we stole one of the scientists carting devices and then broke into Xarion’s sarcophagus and took the inner coffin. With heavy hearts, we left Cleopatra and Antonius, but first performed the rites over them. Then with what conviction I had left, I performed them over Xarion, whispering my temporary goodbyes. I would see him again. Soon.

Now, he’s at rest with his family and the pharaohs of Egypt in the underworld.

And I fade daily. The power took nearly all of my life force, the ink of my Kythan mark barely visible. I only held on for Xarie. After Xarion revealed his line would live on, I fought with everything inside of me to bring her into this world.

I’ve managed to see her grow into a toddler, making sure she was safeguarded from Octavian. He can never discover that a true heir to the Roman throne lives. My time in politics ended that day with Xarion. I only endeavor for our child to live. And to live happily.

After the annexation of Egypt to Rome, Octavian offered the Narcolym servitude within his military legions. Since Cleopatra’s curse ensured the Kythan would never be free of their binds to humans, the Narcos took his offer willingly. Their power helped Octavian found the Roman Empire.

The Shythe, never a race to welcome conflict, scattered to desert towns and cities. They found refuge in serving humans through their glassblowing, making Egyptian glass one of the most sought after luxuries. Some more boisterous Shythe began developing lightings and alternate power sources with Charge, but they were quickly shut down.

The Narcos continue their feuding and warring, searching out Shythe dwellings and annihilating their deemed foes. They refuse for any other race of Kythan to supersede their powers. They develop war machines and devices to power the world. And with these monstrous creations, they travel far, seeking the Leymak; their betrayers.

The Kythan must serve to exist. That was the way of it in the time of the pharaohs, and it will continue to be until one who can wield the ultimate power decides differently.

But that knowledge dies with me.

My head spins with the dizzying thoughts of all our struggles. And as the power has allowed me glimpses into the future, I know there is much more to come. Centuries will pass and races will be wiped out before the curse is broken. I close my eyes and picture the girl’s face who will be the one. The one who will be born from my own bloodline.

When I cross into the underworld and the ultimate power finally releases me, it will travel the aether to find her. An image of her during her Change comes to me—her glowing violet eyes shifting to white with fear, her hands lit with a swirling vortex. In time, she will understand what she must do. This is her legacy.

It’s the reason Xarie must go on where I cannot. Though I know the queen did what she had to during the war as it was not possible to curse just one race—the warring must stop. The Kythan must be freed. Through the descendant of the one who cursed them, will be born one to set them free. I’ve seen it.

Tired of my mind and my aches, I curse my death bed and rise. Slugging toward the open window, I beg the gods for just one cool breeze. I miss the ocean air like I long for Xarion’s sweet touch. Outside my window is nothing but sand and more sand. Though this is the safest place to raise Xarie, I wish I could see the deep blue waters one last time. Show my daughter the wonders of the sea.

From the dunes, the tawny sands begin to stir. I hold my breath. The breeze is warm, but I welcome its soft brush. “Thank you,” I whisper. And I know it’s time. I can’t fight the power any longer.

Phoenix’s heavy footfalls sound at the entrance to our hut. “There’s a swell coming off the red land.”

I nod, keeping my gaze on the rising winds.

Xarie wraps her arms around my leg, and I reach down and lift her into my arms. I smooth back her dark locks, look into her gleaming blue eyes. Then unlatching the golden asp necklace from around my neck, I remove it and place it around hers. “Live freely and love bravely, my daughter.”

After I embrace her, Phoenix takes her from my arms and lays her down for a nap. When he returns, I say, “I know she’ll be well guarded, but could you try to keep her ignorant of your whoring ways . . . at least until she’s gone through her Change?”

He chuckles, and my chest tightens. I’m going to miss that sound. “There are no promises where the ladies are concerned.” He winks. “But I do vow to break any boy that tries anything with her. Especially any boy like
me
.”

I match his smile until his features reveal the tension he’s trying to mask. “I’ll miss you, Star.”

I clear my eyes of the moisture, and repeat the words he once told me. “It doesn’t end here. I’ll miss you until later. Much later.” I smile.

Moving beside Xarion’s coffin, I lie down and settle my hand atop the golden case, my head resting on a silk cushion. As I let go, my soul falling away from my body, Phoenix kneels close, ready to perform the funeral rites.

For a moment, there is nothing. No sound. No color. No coolness or warmth.

Then a lambent light blooms around me, slowly brightening into a brilliance that should hurt my eyes, but it’s as if I’ve waited to experience this real sight my whole life.

My senses flood with feeling, so intense, and then I’m cradled in warmth. The heat stems from my hand and spreads through my body. I look down and lace my fingers through his.

He strokes my jawline, lifting my face and my gaze meets his emerald eyes—clear and vibrant—like time never passed between us. “You’re home,” he says, his voice stirring all my love.

“You are my home.”

Xarion’s lips caress mine as I’m welcomed past the gates of the underworld.

Acknowledgements

This book has been over a year in the making, and one of the hardest struggles I’ve faced in my writing career. The amount of research I had to invest before even putting fingers to keys was astounding. Many times I feared I’d never be able to do this story justice and wanted to quit. Luckily, I have the most amazing support team, and their faith in this story, the characters, and me never wavered. I love all of their faces so hard. I’m extremely grateful for their praise, love, encouragement, and even the firm ass kicking they give when I need it the most.

First, I have to thank my amazing critique partners. Without you guys, I’d have lost even MORE hair while writing this story. Rachel Harris, Victoria Scott, Shannon Duffy, and Patrice Michelle. Thank you for the countless emails back and forth, reading the same scenes over and over, and simply, for everything. You guys are not only the greatest CPs, you’re my friends—the bestest. *squishes*

To my mother, my rock. Not only are you an awesome book blogger who knows her shit. You’re the voice inside my head (and on the other end of the phone!) shouting at me to write steamier, hotter, and with more passion and feelings. To let my characters “get down.” Without your input, I fear this novel would be far less romantic, and not nearly the heat level needed. Mom, you know your swoons.

Dad, you don’t know how many times talking to you helped me calm down. So many times I was close to jumping off the ledge, the stress so bad my hair was falling out! Your confident cool and strength always centers me. Thank you for your unflappable belief in me when I doubt myself, and for always being there. I’m forever a Daddy’s girl.

To my amazing team of beta readers and early readers and cheerleaders who keep me going. I just don’t know what I’d do without you guys! Not only did you give me amazing feedback that helped shape this story into something readable, your enthusiasm in emails and on Twitter got me through the tough times. In no particular order, thank you to Jaime Arnold, Jessica Estep, Megan Verhegghe, Kayleigh-Marie Gore, Lindsey Mead, Pavan Hansra, Rachel Clarke, Julie Brazeal, Valerie Fink, and Amber Troyer. I heart you guys!

And to all the amazing, supportive YA book bloggers! You guys make crazy cool things happen. I’m honored to be a part of your community.

A special shout out to a fantastic historical author who saved me when I was drowning in history. Stephanie Thornton swooped in and marked up my novel with her magic red pen (MS Word Comments) and worked her magic. Thank you, thank you. This novel would not be nearly the story I wanted to tell without you.

Another special mention to the amazing Andrew Chugg. Your recommendations on some of the hardest books I’ve ever tried to read helped me recreate Ptolemaic Alexandria. Thank you for the emails and direction and suggestions, as well as your own book,
The Quest for the Tomb of Alexander the Great
, that is a wealth of knowledge.

To the girls of YA Bound. You ladies are some of the most talented authors and bloggers I’ve had the privilege of working with, as well as swooning with ;) Thank you for your amazing support. Tara Fuller, Rachel Harris, Eileen Li, Nereyda Gonzalez, and Kelly Hashway. Hugs! Thank you to the ladies of Omnific for the support as well as advice and a great author loop to blow off steam. You keep me sane.

Thank you to my husband who puts up with my late night editing sessions, missing showers for days on end (yes, I know!), and for loving me so much despite my headache-inducing career choice. And for creating the map of Alexandria. That means more to me than you even know. My son tolerates a lot of neuroticism from me, also. So thanks, Blue, for only slightly ducking your head when we walk into a store and your mom’s got dried, crusty milkshake in her hair. My guys are the best.

Stephanie Mooney, thank you for taking my vision of the cover and creating artwork that surpassed my expectations. It’s gorgeous! And to Jaye Manus, who was patient with me during edits when I had to change the formatting date. Thank you for taking my story and making it look super professional. The interior is perfect.

To my readers. There are no words powerful enough to express how grateful I am to have such a loyal fanbase. Because of you, I get to live my dream of being an author. Thank you for your praise and encouragement, and for rocking so hard it isn’t even funny. The biggest hugs to you all!

I owe everything to God. Thank you for
everything
.

Appendix

Character List

Astarte (a-stahr-tee): A Shythe Kythan and personal guardian to Pharaoh Caesarion of Egyptian descent. Her mother was the personal guardian and handmaiden to Cleopatra before she died in a fire. She grew up alongside the royal children within the palace, as well as the Egyptian quarter or Rhakotis. She was named after the goddess Astarte, who has changed within many cultures and has been paired with many goddesses. In Egypt, the goddess Astarte was a warrior goddess, and in Greco-Roman times she was unified with Aphrodite, her symbol an encircled star. Generally, she’s referred to as the goddess of war and love, associated with sexuality, fertility, and war.