Page 43 of A Sword of Shadow and Deceit

That question, though simply and innocently put for mere curiosity, causes quite the stir between the three of them. Or rather, for Ruen and Theos, who bow their heads and clench their fists. Kalix is the only one among them that doesn’t appear bothered by it.

“Power, obviously,” he says.

“Power?” I repeat, still not understanding.

“Of course.” With his arm still around my shoulders, Kalix turns me and begins walking, forcing me to keep pace with him. A quick glance back tells me that, though Ruen and Theos both appear irritated, they follow. “What is the most frightening thing for a God?” Kalix asks.

“Loss of power?” I guess.

“Close but not quite,” he says. “It’s death.”

My eyes widen a split second before I twist my head around. The arena, however, has now been cleared out and we appear to be the only ones left even as we make our way to the exit. How could he say something so unabashedly out loud in such a public setting? Even if no one else but the four of us are here. It’s still dangerous. He can’t truly be that unconcerned, can he?

But he is, I realize, because he’s not done talking. “Gods can only be killed by other Gods or those with Divine power. You know who else has Divine power aside from a God?” He doesn’t need to answer what I already know, but he does regardless. Kalix jerks his free hand to himself and points right at his chest. “We are.”

“Should you be talking about this here?” I demand as we approach the double black doors that will lead us from the outside arena back into the building.

“She’s right, Kalix,” Ruen speaks up. “Lower your tone.”

Kalix glances back. “Why? Everyone knows it.”

“Just because everyone knows doesn’t mean it should be said,” Theos snaps.

For my entire life, I’ve only ever focused on how Gods treated humans. It had never occurred to me that they might have treated Mortal Gods in a similar fashion, considering Mortal Gods are, ultimately, direct descendants of themselves. Just as powerful if not as long-lasting.

They are aware of their own status. Or at least, these three are. It’s ugly and often cruel, but someone always gets shit on and unfortunately for Mortal Gods, they’re just not as perfect as their godly parents.

We enter the corridor and Kalix removes his arm from around my shoulders, pushing me to the side as he turns to his brothers. “Why are you so bothered by it?” he demands. “We’re the strongest anyway. We can kill anyone we want.” He laughs.

Neither Ruen nor Theos respond. Instead, Theos merely storms past Kalix, shoving him into the nearby stone wall as he stomps away. And not for the first time, unfortunately, I find myself filled with an almost exhaustive empathy that I don’t want to feel.

“Hey, fucker!” Kalix shouts as he rights himself and starts off in the same direction as Theos, only to have Ruen quickly grab hold of him and halt his movement.

“Let him go,” Ruen orders. “You’ve pushed him enough today.”

“I only said the truth,” Kalix snaps back.

Ruen shakes his head. “Sometimes that’s all you need to say to hurt someone.”

A truer statement I never expected from a spoiled Mortal God raised within the gilded walls of one of the Mortal Gods Academies. The pang in my chest spreads wide, and instinctively I reach up to rub where it began, right between my breasts.

No. I shouldn’t feel so bad for them. After all, they’ve enjoyed more luxuries than most mortals ever will in their entire lives. Mortal Gods are as bad as their Divine betters in the way they treat humans.

Even if a few of them hate the idea of killing others, they’ll continue to do so for their own survival. I admit, it’s clever of the Gods. Separating their children out and pitting them against one another. I can see it clearly—their reasoning for why they take their half-mortal children and place them within this very structured system. It all becomes clear why each one, regardless of power or Tier, is forced to train. Keeping them so focused on fighting each other prevents any of them from fighting those who have put them here.

I’d find it all amusing if it wasn’t so godsdamned tragic.

Chapter 19

Kiera

Anger, I’ve found, is more useful than any other emotion. It’s better than sorrow, than hurt, than guilt. I think that’s why as I watch the Darkhaven brothers over the course of the next fortnight, I come to understand them a bit better.

In the end, they’re all boys. Just boys. Bound to the walls of the Academy unless called upon by other Gods. If life had been different, I might have been in much the same position as them. If—whoever she may be—my God parent, my mother, had decided to take me with her when she abandoned my father, if she had, perhaps, reported my existence to the Council of Gods … I would be here just like them. Locked in this Academy with nothing more for entertainment than lessons by the Gods and the torment of humans.

It’s no wonder they use their volatile emotions as a barrier. Not that I will forgive them for taking out their problems on me and the other Terra. I’m not that magnanimous. I prefer vengeance.

Dirt clings to the underside of my nails as I dig a small hole alongside the three-tiered fountain in the center of a courtyard on the east side of the Academy. Sometime in the night, I’d been awoken by the whispering responses of the spiders I’d sent out far and wide across the Academy grounds and what they’d told me had led me right here the moment I’d woken. The early morning is cool with a gentle breeze that blows through the empty area. It’s the singular day of the week in which not only are students of the Academy free to do as they wish instead of attending classes or physical training but so are Terra.

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