Page 46 of A Sword of Shadow and Deceit

I close my eyes and gather my energy, feel it spread outward from my chest down my limbs and to the tips of my fingers and toes. The water around me ripples and pulls, sloshing against my body. It grows colder and colder and when I reopen my eyes, I see bits of ice have formed inside. No wonder it feels as if the temperature is dropping.

Rahela flicks her fingers, bringing the water closer to her. She leans forward, the thin wall of her Divine water prison the only thing separating us. “This is what you deserve, mortal whore,” she hisses. Her voice is muffled by the water in my ears, sounding deeper and farther away, but I still hear her.

There isn’t really much I can do in my current position and certainly nothing to stop her from killing me without revealing my secrets. For a moment, I think about it. There’s no one else in the courtyard now. I could burst her bubble—quite literally—and end this farce right now. Almost as if the mere thought brings back the memory of my training, phantom pains shoot up my back and down my arms and legs. I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth through the agony.

Your life is never the only one in danger, Ophelia's voice echoes in my mind. Remember that. If you reveal who you are, you risk all of us. Your life is not worth everyone else’s.

My eyes open once more as the pain subsides. Spots of black and white dance in front of my vision. I’ve been holding my breath for far too long. I might be stronger and more durable than a true mortal, but I’m far from infallible. If this keeps up, I will pass out and I doubt that will make her release her spell.

So, in a burst of anger at my own inadequacy, I jerk my head back and stare at the Mortal God’s expression of smug satisfaction. I open my mouth and blow out a bubble before grinning at her and lifting my hand, fighting through the weight of the water, until I pass my palm in front of her face. I turn it around and close my fingers into a fist right before I lift the middle one.

Attack me all you like, bitch, I think to myself. I won’t beg for my life like a fucking dog and I certainly won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me struggle for it.

Her sharp angled face slackens with shock. Almost instantly, I feel the weight of the water lift—the press of it against my flesh breaking for an instant before it comes down harder than ever. A silent curse slips through my mind as my arm is snapped to my side. Peering through the waves of liquid that flutter in front of my face, I watch as Rahela opens her mouth and unleashes a scream of feminine fury that would have me rolling my eyes if I had the strength.

As it stands, however, I’m using up the bulk of my Divine energy by maintaining the air in my lungs. Any other mortal, at this point, would have likely passed out. Not that Rahela seems to realize that—she’s far too outraged by my insult to do anything but scream and stomp her feet as she reaches up, clenching her fist until a dark red liquid drips from her knuckles.

Blood. Fuck. That explains why the crush of the water became so tight all of a sudden. It’s difficult to turn my head, much less fight the pressure that slams into me from every side all at once. Her rage might be a blessing, though. With anger comes ineptitude. Mistakes. All I need is one good spurt of energy. Even if I’ve never trained the same way she and the other Mortal Gods have, I know how to harness my own Divinity and use it to my advantage. How to do it, though, without her realizing…

As I contemplate my options—or lack thereof—I feel my mind rolling as more black-and-white dots dance in front of my vision, growing wider and wider with each passing second. My throat squeezes. My chest burns. It’s been too long since I had fresh air. I need to figure out a plan and I need to figure it the fuck out now.

Just as that thought rolls through me, however, the water bubble surrounding me bursts and I fall to the ground. My side clips the edge of the fountain as my lips burst open and I gasp for breath. The sound of harsh voices reaches my ears as familiar hands grab ahold of my shoulders and roll me to face the sky.

Niall’s face appears above mine. The ends of his hair drip forward, still wet, though this time I’m not sure if it’s because of actual water or sweat. He’s heaving for air just as much as I am, his normally pale face flushed pink with exertion.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Breathe, Kiera. It’s okay.”

I blink and cough and gulp down breath after breath. My insides seize and each lungful of air burns the inside of my mouth and throat. Reaching up with shaking hands, I wipe away the water still clinging to my eyelashes and face to clear my view. “What”—I gulp down more air—“happened?”

Before Niall can answer, a high-pitched voice full of anger snaps out.

“—do this!”

“That little rat offended me and I’ll damn well do what I please, Second Tier!” Rahela squawks. The sound makes my head throb.

“Don’t even think of it!”

I lift my head, turning it to find a red-haired Mortal God moving to block Rahela’s path as she attempts to descend upon where I’m crouched down on the ground. Crimson curls sway with the wind as she stands between Rahela and Niall and me. Despite how much shorter she is than Rahela, I have to hand it to her. She’s got guts to face that cunt when the two of them are on completely different levels—a First Tier and Second.

“Caedmon is on his way and he’ll be quite upset by this,” the redhead snaps. “You know you’re not supposed to use your abilities like this and especially on Terra that aren’t yours.”

“Of course you would go to him,” Rahela scoffs. “What? Can’t face off against me yourself? Is your Divinity that worthless?” Rahela twirls her finger and water lifts away from the ground around me—sucked out of the grass and stone at her behest.

“I’m warning you, Rahela,” the red-haired girl snaps. “Back. Off.”

“Perhaps you have more mortal blood in you than any of the rest of us, Maeryn,” Rahela growls. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t feel the need to defend them so much.”

“You’re half mortal too,” Maeryn replies. “Don’t forget that.”

Niall scoops his arm underneath my shoulder blades and I let him help me to my feet even though now that I’ve caught my breath I feel much better. Caedmon. The name rings a bell. He’s a God here within the Academy. An Upper God at that. I know the name as well as his appearance since the Darkhavens attend classes taught by the Divine Being.

I grit my teeth. If one of the Gods in charge of the Academy is on his way here then that cannot bode well for me.

“Are you alright?” Niall whispers. I jerk my head down and nod. He seems to take it and then discreetly gestures to the red-haired girl. “That’s my Master,” he tells me. “I didn’t know who else to go to and I heard her calling for me when you were in the water. I thought I could get her to help.”

I shake my head. “No, you did the right thing. Thank you.” I say the last two words and mean them. Had Niall not gone and gotten someone to break this up, I might have been forced to do something I’d immensely regret and all because of my own hubris. As it stands right now, I appear every inch the victim that was nearly drowned by a raging psycho of a Mortal God out for blood. Why, though? I still don’t understand. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you originally,” I mutter.

Niall pats my back in response.

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