Page 27 of Oak & Ember

“Villages have names, Trivia,” Sol said with a sigh.

“Really,” she bit out. “I just assumed you didn’t know it. In your mind, this is merely Human Town.”

He shrugged but didn’t deny it.

Pandora gripped the sleeve of his elbow before hissing, “You come here and make them worship you? As if they don’t get enough of that from Apollo.”

Sol jerked his arm free and raised his palms. “I didn’t ask them to do anything. They did it of their own accord.”

“Right. You just didn’t see fit to stop them, did you?”

That infuriating smirk played at his lips again. “It is a bit fun, don’t you think? Humans in the Realm of Gaia don’t know or care about me, but here? I can be the god I was always meant to be.”

“You and I weren’t meant to be more than their messengers, their servants, their slaves,” Pandora seethed. “The sooner you know that, the sooner?—”

“The sooner what?” Sol asked, eyebrows raised. “The sooner I can accept my bitter circumstances and be angry all the time? Like you?”

Pandora faltered at that.

He huffed in dry amusement. “Perhaps I am delusional in my beliefs of my own grandeur and power. But at least I am content with it. I’d much prefer that than whatever dark troubles constantly cloud your mind, Trivia.” His words were laced with pity, and it only stoked her ire.

Before she could reply, he said, “We are here on assignment, are we not? Let’s get on with it.”

“Gladly,” she snapped, eager to finish this once and for all. She just needed to inspect the wards, infuse the death magic into the weakest section, and then finally be finished with this place.

The sooner the light left Sol’s eyes and his severed head rolled on the ground, the better.

* * *

Pandora couldn’t deny she was indeed curious to see what wares were exchanged at market day. As they strode past the booths, she eyed the villagers as they exchanged clothing, gems, and fresh food with one another. Not a single coin or piece of currency was exchanged. Their wares were their currency. A jeweler traded a diamond-studded necklace for a silk cloak. A baker traded freshly baked scones for an elegantly crafted vase.

The sight of it made Pandora’s mouth slide into a reluctant smile. She hated to admit it, but Sol was right. There was culture here.

Her smile vanished as she realized that she would be destroying it soon.

“For a moment there, I thought you were going mad,” Sol said idly at her side.

She scowled at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I thought I saw you smiling. But no, she’s back. All is well.”

Her scowl only deepened. It didn’t matter if this village was destroyed. It was built for Apollo’s convenience. For the gods of Elysium. If it weren’t for them, none of this would even be here.

The world had to be wiped clean. It had to be rid of these vile vermin who called themselves gods.

They had caused her so much pain.

Screams rang in her ears, and Pandora’s steps halted, her eyes closing as she tried to block out the trauma of the soul inside her. But, as always, it hammered mercilessly at her mind, forcing entry. She’d hoped that being here in a new place would quiet the voices inside her, but she’d been wrong.

She groaned as pain raked its sharp claws through the fabric of her mind, tearing, tearing, tearing.

“Trivia!”

Something shook her violently, and she yelped, jerked from the agony that threatened to consume her.

Her head throbbed as she sat up, dazed and disoriented. She was lying flat on her back on the concrete. When had she fallen? Sol stood over her, his hands on her shoulders and a look of uncharacteristic concern in his eyes. Thankfully, they were tucked in the shadows between buildings, so the hub of villagers didn’t notice Pandora’s fainting spell.

Gods, had she really fainted?

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