Heiress of the Sea

Chapter 31

Lazarus stood at the other side of the chapel, his chest heaving as his gaze fixated on Goridian's dead body on the floor. His auburn hair was messy with sweat and dust, and his face was gaunt and clammy.

"Sor, what's going on here?" Lazarus grumbled. "Did you marry her?"

Soren lowered his stare, and shook his head glumly. "We were interrupted before we had the chance."

Lazarus's eyes were pinned to the dead man on the ground, limbs broken and sprawled out; neck in a revolting twist. He trailed the corpse over and over with his eyes, and didn't blink once as he looked up at us.

"Who killed him?"

Soren murmured, "I did."

"You?" Lazarus coughed.

Soren nodded. "At least the instigator and main enemy of this war is now dead. All we must do now is find Hades, and make sure he isn't stupid enough to try and take this war on by himself, which he probably isn't."

"What makes you so sure?" Lazarus mumbled.

"I am just hoping. Aren't you?"

Soren eyed his brother with both curiosity and concern, taking a few steps towards the redhead. I stepped forward too, following him; however, he reached a hand behind his back, warning me to stay where I was. There was an uncertainty to him; an unsureness.

"What are you here for, Lazarus?" Soren asked. "You look...unwell. Your face is pale and ghastly; you reek of something horrible I will not be stupid enough to ask about, and I'm wondering what's made you so grim all of a sudden."

"The war," Lazarus responded in an angry huff. "That's what has made me so grim all of a sudden."

"But you were always a tentative warrior in wars before now. I'm wondering what it is about this one that makes you so particularly unnerved," Soren pressed, his eyes lowering on his brother. Something was off; something making my scalp tingle at the very sight of Lazarus.

I knew his face, I knew it was him...

But somehow, something was wrong.

"Ailith, I wanted to apologize for how I behaved at dinner the other night," Lazarus murmured, changing the subject and craning his head up, to look at me. Soren peered at his brother, and then at me, observing the exchange.

I cleared my throat. "It's—it's okay, Laz."

His face seemed to soften as I spoke. "Good. You know, I was just so upset that evening. For several reasons, but I'm sure we don't have to go into that now. Sor and I can speak in private later." He shot his brother a daring gaze.

Soren, of course, took the expression as a challenge.

"If you want to talk to me, we can talk right now," he told his brother. "I can pummel you into the ground, if you're about to challenge or threaten me further. I don't know what's gotten into you in the last few days, Lazarus, but I hope you don't expect me to feed into your little game."

Lazarus threw up his hands. "No game here."

I stalked up to the pair of them, so that I was equally close to either brother. "What is it, then?" I enquired.

Soren and Lazarus both looked at me with blank faces.

"What do you mean?" Lazarus asked.

"I want to know," I responded, "what's wrong with you. Really. Don't make up some bullshit, even though I know you probably will try. But I can sense your crap from a mile away. So don't waste either of our time."