Page 31 of Kissed By the Gods
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I’ve always been fascinatedby candles,” the woman says, reaching a finger into the flame. “There’s something about them I find very pleasing. I think, perhaps, it is how they burn so bright. For a time, they create light, and that is a miraculous thing even for the gods. And yet, to do so, they burn their very essence into nothingness. And then there’s only darkness.”
She keeps playing with the flame, her finger swishing back and forth in the fire. For a moment, she looks inexplicably sad. I try to reply, to tell her she’s mad. Nothing comes out but a strangled sound. Knives scrape along the inside of my throat. And then I smell it—the tangy, cloyingly sweet smell of blood. I cast my eyes down—even that movement is excruciating—expecting to be awash in blood, but there’s nothing.
Only more candles, more and more each time I blink.
“Ah yes,” the woman says, pulling her unburnt finger from the flame. “You’ll be experiencing godsbane right now. How thoughtless of me; I forget how vulnerable mortals are sometimes. Like a candle, mmm? So easy to snuff out your light.” She laughs, and the sound is like a symphony of flutes.
Perfect.
Terrifying.
She moves her hands to gesticulate vaguely around us, and I notice that there’s no ceiling anymore. No floor, either. Instead, rivers of gold swirl beneath my knees. I shiver.
“You’re in Sol'vaelen.”
All I manage is a blink, and thousands of glass slivers scrape my eyes. Never would I have imagined the realm of the gods to be such a horrific place. Lako’s seven hells, yeah. I imagine that’s horrifying. But Sol'vaelen? It’s always described as a realm of perfection. A paradise. But this is not paradise.
Am I the one going mad? This can’t be real.
The goddess gestures to me with a look of … well, I would say sympathy, but her expression is too … practiced. Like she studied the expressions others make when they feel bad for someone and rehearsed it. Underneath that faux sympathy, she’sfascinated.
“Godsbane is the price you pay for being here with me,” she says, and her expression turns pensive. “I’m told the pain is nearly unbearable, and some humans have even died from the experience! Can you believe?”
Yes. Yes, I absolutely can. I manage to groan, but I regret it.
“Such delicate creatures, humans,” she tsks. “But I don’t want you to die, daughter of Selencia, and upset all my careful planning. Blink twice if the experience is too much for you and I’ll send you back to the mortal realm posthaste.”
I’m tempted. Oh, so tempted to end this mad encounter. But I’ve called upon a goddess and she’s here. Or I’m there.
I stare at her carefully, eyes unmoving.
“Excellent!” She claps her hands together, like a child. “You’ll find this conversation is quite one sided but allow me to explain a few things.”
The goddess is wearing a simple white dress, and a delicate-looking chainmail, which is a light, glittering gold. It wrapsaround her torso and trails down her arms as if it is part of her dress. I’ve never seen anything like it. Her boots, too, are unusual, lacing up to her knees. Tattoos mark her forehead and around her eyes. Chainmail and gold jewelry decorate her skin, but it’s wholly unnecessary. She’s perfect without it.
She must notice my perusal, because she flicks her hair back from her shoulder and gives me a saucy grin before running her fingers down the chainmail armor proudly.
“You like it, yes? No one said a goddess can’t be formidableandattractive,” she laughs again.
Attractive isn’t the word I would use. Even as the pain cascades around me, making everything hazy, I know she’s extraordinary. She moves to a chair—which wasn’t there a moment ago—and takes a seat, crossing one leg over the other.
“Joking aside, I think you have an inaccurate view of the gods, daughter of Selencia, and the power we wield in your world. Even we are bound by rules. Everything we provide to the humans comes at great cost. No, that’s not quite right. Every interaction comes with a cost. You think the pain you are feeling now is significant? You know nothing of sacrifice, of what I had to do to get you here.” Her tone isn’t playful now. It’s admonishing. “I would hate to think you don’t appreciate the sacrifices I’ve—we’ve—made for you and your kind.” It’s a reprimand, and it lashes like a whip across my back. My body jerks upward at the force of it.
A keening noise escapes through my gritted teeth, which fracture with an audible crack from the force of my bite.
“That’s better,” she says, and her ire settles somewhat. “Listen carefully, daughter of Selencia. We gods have our own battles, our own wars. We cannot always interfere in yours.”
She stands up from her chair and walks over to me. She pulls my head back by my hair, and the forced movement radiates through my spine until I’m afraid it will snap in two. “But I haveinterfered. I have a vested interest in you. So much so that I have a gift for you.”
Terror grips me. If this is the cost of an interaction, I have no doubt my body cannot afford a gift. I desperately try to shake my head. “N-n-n-n-n.” I can’t get the word out past the knives in my throat.
The grip in my hair loosens, and she looks stunned and confused. I wonder if anyone has refused a gift before.
“C-c-c-c-o.” But I can’t form the word.Cost! I scream, but it’s trapped in my head.
She holds a finger to my lips. “Ah,” she says, nodding. “I understand your fear. But as I said, this is a gift. It has already been paid for in full.”
