Page 60 of A Sword of Shadow and Deceit

“Leave?” I repeat the word. I’ll be allowed out? “Even if I’m not powerful?” I ask.

The kid snorts. “Not powerful? What makes you think that?”

I scowl at him and point to the area around me. “Non-talents are put here,” I say. If he’s like me then he should know that. God children without powers are little more than stupid mortals.

“Yeah, well, there was a mistake,” the green-eyed kid replies. “You aren’t a non-talent.”

Why would he say that? A fresh wave of anger pours through me. Does he not know how long I’ve wished to be powerful, to have Divinity? If I had that then I wouldn’t have been locked up here in the first place.

Placing one hand on the wall of the small closet-like room I’ve known for too long, I struggle to stand up on my own feet and find myself at the same height as him. The anger consumes me from the soles of my feet to the tips of my fingers, but all this bastard does is smile at me.

“You’re a liar!” I scream at him. Why is he trying to give me false hope? What could he gain from tormenting me like that?

“No, he’s not.” The second boy stands to his full height, towering over us both. Eyes like black night with only a hint of the deepest ocean stare down at me. “We’ve come for you because we felt you, Theos. You’re not lacking in power. You’ve been calling to us in our dreams.”

“Your dreams?” What could he mean by that? All of my dreams were fantasies. Calling nameless and faceless friends to keep me company in this dark place. They weren’t real.

“Yes, Theos.” The first boy moves forward and offers a wan smile. Now that I’ve revealed my name and my father’s name, he doesn’t seem as warm, but he still tries to maintain a pleasant smile on his face. “You’re one of Azai’s sons and so are they. By God law, you’ll be transferred to the Academy where Mortal Gods like us will be taught to control our abilities.”

“They are?” I look over at the green- and blue-eyed boys before turning back to the one in front of me. “You are my brothers?”

He stiffens before shaking his head. “Sorry, not me. Just them.”

I frown. Then why is he here?

As if he senses my thoughts, the boy gives another, feeble smile. “You called me into your dreams too,” he answers. “We weren’t sure—and neither were the Gods—if you would belong to them or me.”

“Why would I belong to you?” I ask. If we weren’t related then how could I possibly have called him from my dreams?

“We share abilities,” he says. “Not blood.”

“Dreams?” I clarify.

He nods. “Bloodline doesn’t distinguish abilities,” he says. “I’d hoped that we could … I don’t have any siblings, but…” His head dips and the feeling of disappointment wafts from him as if it were an actual scent I could inhale.

“This is a good thing,” the green-eyed boy says suddenly. “It means you’ll be stronger than him.”

“Kalix.” The blue-eyed one snaps the boy’s name, his tone ripe with irritation and chastisement.

“What?” Kalix demands with a shrug. “It’s true. No offense, Darius.”

Darius—the one who hugged me—chuckles slightly. “It’s fine.” He shakes his head and then proceeds to hold his hand out for me. “We might not be blood brothers, but we can be friends.”

I take his hand. “Friends?” I’ve never had friends before. Not real ones, anyway.

His expression softens and he closes his fingers over mine, tugging me out of the prison room I’ve been in and into the light. The fresh scent of cool air slaps me in the face. “Yeah,” he says, “friends.”

“Theos!” Ruen’s sharp tone jerks me out of the old memory of the day I’d been freed from the prison of failed God children. My eyes refocus on the scene before me and I find that I’ve missed at least half of the battle.

Darius is covered in bleeding wounds and weaponless as he races away from his opponent, diving down as a dagger comes flying at him from behind, he slides into the dirt and turns, jumping up before he can be pinned. My heart thunders in my chest. Where is his sword? I search the grounds for it and spot the handle sticking out where the blade is piercing a crack in the stone walls of the arena.

Kalix and Ruen had never been as close to Darius as I’d remained to him when we’d entered the Academy, but the tightness of Ruen’s frame next to mine speaks of his own concern. My hands clench into fists as I lean forward, unable to stop myself from becoming enrapt by the scene before us.

Darius turns and faces his enemy, releasing a howl that’s more animal than man. He dives forward, ducking down and narrowly missing the slice of another dagger. Instead, he and his enemy go into the dirt, Darius taking the lead as he grips Corillo’s wrist and snaps it back. A shout follows, Darius quickly and deftly plucking the dagger from Corillo’s grip.

He sets it to the Mortal God’s throat and slices through. I’m shaking, the sounds of the crowd coming back to me all at once louder than ever before. Vomit threatens to spill forth.

He won. Oh, thank the … well, not the fucking Gods. They’re the ones who put him there, but the relief coursing through my veins, filling my bones, is so heavy I could collapse under the weight of it.

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