Page 95 of Jailer to the Death God
“I believe her scheme had many layers. She is a complex being, ancient and intelligent. But intelligence is not wisdom, and her mind was deeply gutted by the wound your stepmother gave her.” Arawn rises from the bed and begins working at one of the large, carved bedposts with both hands.
“Do you mean a literal wound, or a figurative one?” I frown, tilting my head. “What are you doing?”
He gives a final wrenching twist, and half the bedpost detaches, coming loose in his hand. The post is hollow inside.
“What on earth…” I step forward, half-forgetting the book in my hands.
Arawn extracts something from the dark space inside the post—a beautiful dagger with a golden hilt. Its sheath is exquisitely crafted, inlaid with semi-precious stones and mother-of-pearl.
Gingerly Arawn lays the dagger on the bed, next to Aspen’s knife.
“This is a dagger spelled with godsblood—Macha’s blood, to be precise. When your stepmother declared her intention of ending the relationship, Macha attacked her, and your stepmother scratched her with this. A scratch sends a god back to their realm and forces them into a deep sleep.”
“That’s why Macha delayed her revenge,” I say. “She was recovering from the scratch.”
“Yes. Had your stepmother pierced her flesh, Macha would have been annihilated entirely.”
“How did you know this dagger was here? Did Macha tell you?”
“I don’t believe she knows of the dagger’s existence. Legend says that once a dagger is used on a god, it disappears. But perhaps since it only grazed her, it remained intact. Macha probably thinks it was destroyed. But I sensed its presence.” Arawn eyes the weapon with more caution in his eyes than I’ve ever seen from him. “This knife can kill any god. But to the god with whose blood it was spelled, it is more potent, and also undetectable. Even if Macha were standing in this room, as long as the dagger was hidden, she would be unaware of it.”
“My stepmother knew Macha would come back.” I tighten my grip on the ritual tome. “She was ready to protect herself.”
“As you should be.” Arawn’s voice deepens, dark with warning. “I want you to know where this dagger is, in case you need it.”
“You would trust me with something that could kill you?”
“I would trust no one else with it.”
My heartbeat quickens at the words, at the confidence in his tone. Taking a deep breath, I turn my back to him and toss the ritual tome into my bedroom fireplace. The embers do little more than hiss, so I take the poker and urge them back to life, until tongues of golden flame lick at the book, chewing its edges until they are black and curling.
“Macha mentioned that if she attacked you directly, by her own hand, the other gods would be angry.” I look back at Arawn, searching his eyes. “If I gave you the godsblood dagger, and you killed her with it, would the pantheon come for you?”
“They would end me, yes. There is a law preventing gods from destroying each other. It is our most sacred rule.”
“Yet your three sisters were able to create that summoning and binding ritual for you. And Macha was able to add a condition to it.”
“Yes, because that ritual is not lethal. It is an annoyance, a divine prank. Macha’s added spell is more serious, to be sure, but it only renders me vulnerable, given certain conditions. It does not kill me.”
“So it’s a loophole.” I chew my lip. “What if Macha died? Would her spell break then?”
“It would.”
“How do you know? Have gods died before?”
He chuckles roughly. “You ask many questions, little doe. Yes, gods have perished before. In addition to myself and my siblings, there is a lesser tier in the pantheon, made up of minor gods.”
I nod. “My grandfather taught me some of their names. Granus, Mawr, Taliesen, Lleu, Ermae…”
“Yes. A few have met their end, and when they did, all their active rituals or spells ended as well.”
“It’s so simple, then.” I rise, holding the godsblood knife. “We have to kill Macha. Then the life-bond between us will dissolve, and you can keep your throne even though you love me.”
He tosses a hand through his long hair. “As I said, I can’t kill Macha without suffering immediate vengeance from the other gods. And you are human. Strong in spirit as you are, you are too weak to face her. She would kill you, causing my death as well. And the other gods would forgive her if she acted in self-defense. Besides, you could never get close enough to wound her with that blade.”
“My stepmother did,” I murmur.
“They were intimate. And even if you tried to seduce Macha, I do not believe she would be foolish enough to succumb. She has retreated to her realm, for now, and you cannot go there—you’d go mad instantly.”
