Page 91 of A Haven of Brimstone and Darkness

Like birds that are born and raised in a cage fear the freedom of flight, Zalika denies my response with a growl. She glares down at me, twisting my hair tighter and tighter, and a sharp pain enters my skull. She resists the truth with such vehemence that I almost feel pity for her. But almost isn’t quite pity and all I have for this woman is the desire to maim and slaughter her.

“You will die tonight,” she hisses, “and Iwillbecome a Goddess.”

My breasts heave with each intake of breath. I find myself smiling at her as she bends me backward, causing my spine to creak with the unnatural position. “One of us will be dying tonight,” I inform her. “That is certain.”

“You,” she insists.

When I don’t respond, she growls again and throws me back into place. This time, as she rakes the brush through my hair it’s with rough, angry movements. I smile because I know, somehow, that a small battle was won here.

When she finishes dressing me up for my supposed funeral, she grips my arms and yanks me out of the chair. The sun has fully set by the time we enter the hallway and I find everyone waiting. Not just Kalix and Theos but Maeryn and Niall too. I want to curse when I see that unlike the other Terra, Niall has been dressed in the samemors palliumas the Darkhavens.Perhaps he has no powers of his own, but it’s clear that the Gods plan to kill us all tonight.

Zalika’s earlier anger fades when she sets her eyes on Maeryn and the scar that now lines the other woman’s face. Stepping towards her, Maeryn flinches, and Niall—despite how much he trembles—attempts to stand between them.

Zalika laughs, the noise of amusement like nails on bone. “How adorable,” she murmurs. “A little mouse protecting a wounded lioness.”

None of the Terra respond to her taunt. My lips curl upward. “I could say the same about you,” I murmur, just loud enough to capture her attention.

Her smile falling away, Zalika turns to me. “Those big, bad Gods need a mouse to protect them,” I continue when I’ve captured her attention. “Tell me something, is the cheese worth it, little rat?”

I change the term at the end and watch as her face contorts in all manner of rage. She contemplates attacking me. She may not say as much, but the progression of the desire to do so lingers on her face. Her brows furrow and her lips curl backward as her eyes seek out my body—checking for weapons she knows I don’t have.

I offer my hands up in response, waiting. Unfortunately, though, she turns away from my provocation and announces in a low tone, “It’s time. Let’s go.”

My back is shoved and I stumble forward a step before turning and glaring over my shoulder at the bald Nubo. Though his expression hasn’t altered a single bit, it’s clear from the vibration of power rolling off him that I’ve upset him as well. I’d originally thought Zalika the defacto leader of the two, but now I recognize that there’s something between them. A trust and an understanding. They are partners and I just insulted his lover.

I force myself to turn forward again and start walking. An insult is the least of their worries.

A lion that wishes to live will always strike at just the right moment.

Chapter 44

Kiera

The Garden of Statues has been altered since the last time we’d been here. Together, the Darkhavens, Maeryn, Niall, and I arrive surrounded by the dead Terra guards and their leaders—Zalika and Nubo.

The energy tonight is far different than during the first ceremony. There is no mountain of petrified wood ready to be burned. In fact, it appears as if someone has come through and thoroughly cleaned the area of any lingering debris.

There’s a distinct lack of rotten smell, but something earthy and dry lingers on the back of my tongue and in my nostrils. Turning my head, I survey the area as several Terra drift away, some silent command working their hands and feet like puppets on strings. Without twisting completely, I sidle a look out of my periphery at Nubo.

Though he and Zalika don’t touch, the new tension between them is practically a visible string tying them together. I plan to take that string, form a rope, and hang them with it.

After all, well-fed monsters are safer than starving Mortal Gods and I am nothing if not famished.

I turn away from Nubo and Zalika and focus my attention on the dais set in the center of the garden, surrounded by statuesof the fallen. That is what they are, I’ve realized. People and creatures who must have inhabited this place before these so-called Gods ripped into this world and claimed it as their own. I stride towards it, sensing the twin shadows following me and knowing that they, like me, are here for Ruen. They are here for revenge.

Fires flare to life in a circle around the dais, revealing more than just the stage, but a wide circular table set and laden with various foods. Mortal Gods drift closer, curiosity growing stronger than their apprehension. Tension is thick in the air tonight and despite the fact that the last vestiges of winter can be felt in the darkness of the night, a cool layer of sweat dots my flesh.

Where they feel apprehension, I feel only anticipation. It’s been an eternity in the making, this violence of mine. It calls to me, the rage’s voice so raspy and thready that it’s clear it’s been screaming for me a long time now.

Pausing before the table, I look down. My upper lip curls back over my teeth in disgust. A boar’s head rests upon one of the largest plates. Another is filled with the steaming, cooked body of a deer. A tiger’s claws, severed and set forth as an appetizer. Animal after animal decorated and displayed as a pseudo-tribute to the Hunt.

I see their faces—those of the Mortal Gods killed in that forsaken place.

“These aren’t…” Theos’ question is breathy and tight with barely restrained revulsion.

“It is,” I confirm and he rips his hand back from the edge of the table, nearly stumbling in his haste to get away. “Fuck.” He disappears from my periphery and I don’t turn to watch as he begins to dry heave—I can hear it well enough.

Everything changes when the sun goes down, it appears, and now that it has set over Ortus Island, the Gods have revealedtheir true intentions in the ghastliest of ways. Theos’ uncertainty of the animals set before us, though, as well as the lack of horror from the others tells me that I’m the only one who can see the truth.

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