The All-Seeing Eye

by Rae Else

  ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Theon said. He threw an apologetic look El’s way. ‘Yia Yia sent me to get you, El.’

  Talus’ eyes were on El in reproof: her rush of panic hadn’t escaped his notice. She realised that he’d solidified entirely and even his hands were fully defined.

  ‘We’ll meet here tomorrow,’ Talus said. ‘You need more practice. Be here at dawn, and don’t be late.’

  - Chapter Fourteen -

  Suitors

  The rooms in the main house and surrounding buildings were full. El and Eirene were on the third floor, in Eriene’s room. In style, it was very similar to El’s: white sheets and walls, all ablaze with the setting sun. Above the bed hung a large sepia photo of a female snake charmer. She had two pythons wrapped around her neck, their bodies spilling over her shoulders and their heads balanced in her palms. Like the paintings of the waves in Luke’s room, the picture was developed with layered kerykeion, making the reptilian bodies inch along the woman’s static limbs as their tongues flickered.

  ‘Yia Yia’s taste is … singular … isn’t it?’ Eirene said, noticing El’s distraction.

  El nodded. ‘How many people do you think have come?’ She asked, tearing her gaze away from the photo and leaning out of the open Juliette balcony.

  A cacophony of chatter arose from the surrounding rooms. Below, a grove of lemon trees stretched across the plateau.

  ‘A hundred or so.’

  Surely the house couldn’t hold that many? Then El remembered that there were corridors leading off the spiral staircase that she had gone down earlier. There must be many subterranean rooms too.

  Eirene glanced up as she rifled through her wardrobe. ‘They’ll be the other arete of my generation who are here to compete. Their parents, aunts and uncles, as long as they aren’t descended from one of the other heads of line, will be welcome. In Yia Yia’s opinion: the more the merrier.’ Eirene sounded deflated as if she’d already given up.

  ‘Maybe we could practice a bit before the games tomorrow. I’m meant to be training with Talus but I’ll ditch it for you,’ El said, remembering what Theon had said about competing not coming naturally to Eirene.

  Eirene smiled. ‘Thanks, El, but I don’t think a morning’s practice could teach me anything ten years in the Gymnasium couldn’t.’

  El stared. Ten years. She remembered that Luke had been competing in the Gymnasium for a year and a half so far. Years definitely seemed to be the norm, rather than weeks. Although something told her that ten years was a slower progression than normal.

  El shrugged. ‘You’ll be up against arete who know that you could unleash the full power at any moment. Believe me, I know from experience, that gives you an edge.’

  ‘Or makes them want to do you in quicker,’ Eirene murmured. She plucked out a dress from the wardrobe. ‘This should work.’

  Helena had ordered Eirene to find El something to wear this evening.

  ‘I don’t really do flowers,’ El explained. ‘Can’t I wear shorts and a T-shirt?’

  Eirene laughed. ‘Nope, it’s formal.’

  Admittedly, it was too hot for El’s normal footwear, and she’d abandoned her boots this morning, making do with the pair of flip-flops purchased in Spain. Eventually Eirene coaxed her into a plainer dress with a halter neck. She found herself wondering why dressing up always seemed to involve wearing less. She wished too that she had more of her own things with her. Not that there was anything dressy enough in her wardrobe back home: she’d never had to have anything formal. In fact, this would be the first party she’d ever attended.

  Fifteen minutes later, El was astonished as she stared at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t help admiring the way Eirene had styled her hair so that it was soft and feminine. And the dress wasn’t all bad. It highlighted the arc of her back and the column of her neck. She admired the subtle makeup too, especially the smoky eyeshadow. It was artful the way Eirene had managed to conceal the dark circles beneath her eyes. El looked more refreshed than she had in ages.

  Eirene had on a peach sleeveless dress, very twenties in style, and her hair was in a bun similar to Helena’s vintage hairdo. She finished with a spot of rose lipstick.

  Downstairs, there was an array of elegantly dressed arete in evening dress and black tie. Many of the outfits had layered kerykeion worked into them, especially the dresses. As water arete were the most dominant in the line, most outfits possessed marine motifs. Lots of the chiffons and silks sweeping the terrace were adorned with waves of blues and whites shifting like the surf. Here and there, arete of other elements wore embellishments denoting their power too. Butterflies and birds fluttered among folds of fabric, while fiery phoenixes flared along the skirts of others. The earthen ones were El’s favourite, with tendrils of plants and budding flowers shifting over gowns like living embroidery.

  Weaving in and out of the guests, arete waiters served canapés and champagne. The beat of a drum pulsed, along with the low strum of a bass guitar. A band was set up at one end of the terrace. Another guitarist took up the melody. The music dominated the terrace as the singer’s voice blended with the instruments and many of the guests started to dance.

  El watched the siren singer, her lithe body twisting to the music, throwing herself into her song. The two male sirens seemed to caress the music from the guitar strings.

  Eirene sighed. ‘Sirens always get dibs on the music. For once, I’d like to hear something current … and singing about currents doesn’t count.’

  El laughed. They grabbed some champagne as they came to the pool.

  A few women sat at its edge. They had discarded their heels and dresses and were in bikinis and swimsuits. Sirens and hydra were already in the water, moulding it into the shapes of sea creatures. Eirene ducked out of the way as a shimmering dolphin somersaulted through the air and broke apart. El wasn’t so quick and failed to avoid the spray.

  As she brushed at her skirt, a tall, athletic man stopped before her. He lifted his strong jaw in a self-satisfied way, then swept his wavy, brown hair back in a studied gesture.

  ‘Hi, you must be El. I’m Christoph.’ His eyes crawled down her dress. ‘You got wet.’ He smiled suggestively. ‘Maybe it’s a sign that you should join the pool party?’

  ‘No thanks. It’ll dry soon.’ El walked past as he continued to ogle her.

  Eirene laughed beside her as they moved down the terrace.

  ‘What was that—’ El began but another man intercepted them.

  ‘El, this is Laius. Laius, El,’ Eirene said.

  El extended her hand. He kissed it, his lips lingering.

  ‘A pleasure,’ Laius said.

  She had the urge to wipe her hand on her dress but took a gulp of champagne instead.

  Laius stroked his goatee. ‘Apologies for the water-wielders,’ he said, eyeing the arete in the pool who were still cheering at the acrobatics of their creations. ‘They’re the most common in the family unfortunately – the plebs,’ he simpered. ‘If anyone annoys you again, say the word and I’ll rip the ground out from under them.’

  El tried to smile but it ended up more of a grimace.

  ‘I’m due to compete in the Elysium,’ he added. ‘I could take anyone here, eh Eirene? You’ve been in the Gymnasium for what … nigh on a decade?’

  El bristled for Eirene and couldn’t resist the urge to take Laius down a peg or two. ‘Oh, the Elysium, I’m already there too.’

  Laius was speechless. Just as well. She supposed he’d next be telling her how many opponents he’d injured in his other matches. She didn’t think she could stomach any more bravado. She soon made her escape, pretending she needed the bathroom.

  Eirene caught up with her. ‘I should have warned you.’

  El gave her a probing look.

  ‘You’re big news: a direct descendant of Yia Yia’s popping up like this. We all grew up knowing the serpents with ties to the head of our line and that had powerful elemental abilities.’

  El frown
ed, still not understanding.

  ‘Despite the rumour about your involvement with the Opposition, Yia Yia’s protection of you is enough for most to dismiss it. You’re a serpent, a descendant of Yia Yia and, one day, a likely possessor of the full power. Lots of the male family members would kill to get with you—’

  ‘But we’re related.’

  Eirene shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter. In powerful arete families, intermarriage has gone on for centuries. Helps to conserve the power – keep it in the line.’

  El surveyed the crowd behind Eirene, now seeing them as a pit of vipers that she had to navigate. She caught sight of Luke by the pool, a myriad of skimpily-clad girls fawning over him. By the looks of it, they were trying to entice him out of his tux and into the pool. She glared at them as she noticed that Luke was joining in with the other water manipulators, sculpting: she watched a beautifully shaped otter flip into the air before diving back below. Arete applauded and Luke smiled, starting again as arete demanded an encore.

  ‘I think some of our cousins got a few of the nymphs to entertain him,’ Eirene said, noticing El’s look.

  El forced herself to calm down. She and Luke weren’t an item. Besides, she’d already resolved that she didn’t have space in her life for attachments. Look at how things had gone with Dan.

  She watched as one of the girls splashed Luke’s shirt and laughed playfully. El took another sip of champagne. She’d better back off or there’d be barbecued nymph on the menu.

  Eirene was giving her a sympathetic look. ‘It’s just what they do. You would make a great addition to the family gene pool.’

  El smirked. It was like she was in some terrible Medieval drama, having to circumvent the designs of pervy cousins, only interested in her because of their quest for power. She grimaced again at the thought that they were all related. Then again, wasn’t that the same for the Greek gods: brothers and sisters, supposedly sleeping together? Zeus and Hera for instance, the king and queen of the Olympians. Was this where the incestuous myths about the gods originated?

  A low voice greeted them, ‘Hello.’

  El groaned internally but was pleased to see that it was only Talus. Like most of the men, he wore a tux. Something about it on him looked odd though. She realised it was the white shirt against his skin that surprised her. Earlier today, he’d been in a charcoal T-shirt and jogging trousers. From what she’d seen of graeae, she’d started to expect them to always dress in dark colours.

  Her relief was short-lived as he took away her glass of champagne. ‘You’ve got training early tomorrow. This will cloud your mind and mood.’

  ‘Talus, it’s El’s birthday,’ Eirene said.

  ‘She might as well start as she means to go on. You’re competing tomorrow, Eirene. It’s inadvisable for you to have any more either.’

  ‘You’re no fun,’ Eirene complained.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that.’ El smiled cheekily. ‘You should hear his lecture on time.’

  Talus frowned as Eirene stifled a laugh.

  ‘Enjoy the party,’ he said and stalked off.

  ‘Go El,’ Eirene said. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone with the nerve to talk to him like that.’

  El shrugged. ‘He’s just a graeae.’

  ‘A graeae who’s going to be in the next Triad.’

  Pinching another glass of champagne from a passing waiter, El avoided answering Eirene’s comment: if the Opposition succeeded, there wouldn’t be another Triad.

  ‘Happy Birthday, El,’ Eirene said, raising her glass. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’

  El took a sip of bubbles. ‘So, who’s the younger – you or Theon?’

  ‘Theon’s thirty-three, I’m thirty.’

  El gawped. She kept forgetting that, with everyone looking so youthful, they were closer in age to her mum than to her.

  With her curiosity piqued, she added, ‘What about Talus?’

  ‘He’s of your grandma’s generation. Over ninety.’

  El’s eyes widened. No wonder he acted like an old man: he was one. It seemed strange to think that Talus had lived such a long life already, comparable to that of her grandparents. She wondered what he’d seen and experienced in such a breadth of time.

  ‘Is he married?’

  Eirene shook her head. ‘Some graeae do marry, have kids and that, but not the really powerful ones. I suppose travelling through time isn’t exactly conducive to a healthy relationship. If you think about it, graeae are barely here.’

  Eirene took a sip of her drink. She was drinking quickly. ‘I suppose being with a graeae would be like having the most difficult long-distance relationship ever.’

  Just then, a gong rang from inside the house, announcing dinner. The chatter and laughter rose like the buzz of flies and they followed the crowd in.

  - Chapter Fifteen -

  Can’t Pretend

  The majority of arete were happy to take Helena’s inclusion of El as indication that she was pardoned of any crimes against the Order. However, there were a few among the family who treated El with suspicion and gave her a wide berth. As she passed, some narrowed their eyes, others whispered lowly.

  The dining hall was vast. There was a seating chart near the archway on entering. Four long tables were set up throughout the room, along with a raised top table at the front. All were lit with candles and laid with plates and cutlery. Both El and Eirene were sat at the top table. Eirene was at the far end, near her parents, Flora and Varus, whom El met before going to find her assigned seat. El was closer to the centre of the table, near Helena.

  As she found her place, she surveyed the length of the room. Circular, iron candelabra hung from the ceiling; along with the bare stone walls, they made El feel like she’d been transported back in time to a Medieval banqueting hall.

  The waiting staff were nymphs, moving effortlessly around the tables, serving wine and setting mouth-watering dishes before the diners. El spotted Cora sat opposite Helena. The drakon threw dark looks at El every so often. As she studied Cora, she realised that there was no sign of the injuries that she’d received during their fight at the Olympia. Her face was completely healed. In fact, there were no scars whatsoever. It must be Helena’s work. She must have given her empousa blood which was likely one of the perks of being on Helena’s VIP list.

  As El surveyed the other guests at the top table, her eyes were drawn to two striking-looking women. They had similar colouring to the majority of the Carrases, but their elaborate, black dresses drew attention to them. Their old-fashioned hairdos and long black gloves made them look like Helena’s evil doppelgangers.

  El asked Laius opposite, ‘Who are those women in black?’

  ‘Oh that’s Deino and Stheno. They participated in our graeae trials, but they couldn’t compete with Talus.’

  ‘Is there a mandate for graeae to wear dark colours whenever possible?’ She asked.

  Laius chortled, but El waited.

  ‘Um, no, not that I know of. Graeae do tend to wear a lot of black.’ He smirked. ‘The goths of the arete world. Deino and Stheno go a step further with their theatrics: the gloves. A ploy to give the impression that their power is so great, a mere brush of their palm could give them an insight into any arete they touch. Absurd, of course.’

  El nodded, thinking of Janos. He’d pushed his palm against hers and then phased out, as if seeping into the pores of her skin. She shivered, banishing the thought.

  Looking around, she thought how strange it was that this was the first family gathering that she’d ever been to, outside of those with her grandparents. When she was younger, she’d wished that her mum was around and that she had a dad, brothers and sisters. Now, to be met with all these relatives, it seemed her wish had been granted. Yet she’d never imagined that this first gathering would be filled with such weird intent.

  It surely wasn’t a coincidence that she’d been seated next to two male hydras who, genetically speaking, were desirable matches for her: any female of
fspring from such a union could be potential inheritors of the full power. She felt nauseated at the thought of how much interbreeding went on.

  Throughout the evening, she endured a concoction of bragging and suggestive comments from both Laius opposite and Christoph beside her. Christoph tried to impress with talk of the hedge fund and investments that his family operated; on the other side of the table, Laius was quick to enlighten her to the fact that the company’s trade was overseen by graeae, so its success was hardly a reflection of Christoph’s business acumen.

  When El wasn’t being fought over by these two, another hydra next to her, Peter, kept flashing her his pearly whites. Her concerns about him soon vanished though as she came to understand that his smiles were harmless. Although outwardly he was another perfectly fine specimen of masculinity, bearing all the usual Carras traits of a bronze complexion, dark hair and strong features, his mental faculties left a lot to be desired. Peter, it turned out, was a good case study for the effects of inbreeding. As El watched him, she was left to wonder at the extreme lengths these Carrases were prepared to go to in their quest for power.

  First, Peter displayed a severe mistrust of his cutlery and insisted that the servants remove it. Next, when the lobster arrived, he picked it up and cradled it. After engaging in a heated discussion with it, he demanded whether the arete opposite him agreed. Shortly after, he stalked out of the hall, leaving both the arete opposite and, presumably, the crustacean, flummoxed.

  It was as Peter left the table that El spied Luke nearby, at one of the other enormous tables. She felt as if she’d finally caught a stroke of luck. Perhaps between courses she’d be able to sneak away from her dinner companions and enjoy a normal chat for a few minutes. It wasn’t like she was enjoying the food either, too much of it was laced with ambrosia. She detested the way that each heady rush conjured the night that she’d spent imprisoned in the London Olympia.

  Luke was flanked by two pretty brunettes. El watched the girls make eyes at him and resolved not to look again, but her gaze kept straying back. She knew that she shouldn’t care and she had no right to be possessive of him. She’d rebuffed any attempts he’d made at complimenting her. But as she watched him chatting, she became more deflated.