Page 72 of Jailer to the Death God
Enough of me.
I want to be stronger than this, to manage this loss like I have handled the others—calmly, with all the grace I can muster—until I’m alone, beyond scrutiny, and I can collapse in private.
But a question slips out—quiet, pathetic, and foolish. “What did I do wrong?”
Arawn looks at me, alarm and pity in his eyes. “You did nothing wrong. I made a mistake, one I cannot risk making again. One I must try to rectify while I still have time.”
I think he’s trying to make me feel better, but I don’t relish being the “mistake” he must rectify.
The coach jostles suddenly. We’re crossing a bridge, nearing the walls of the next town where Arawn will lay his mark on the sick.
I lean out of the carriage, wanting to catch a glimpse of the town. It’s called Allenaye, and by reputation it’s one of the prettiest places in the region. I visited once with my parents, when we were staying at the inn on the river for a holiday. But I was too young to remember the town well, and I’m eager to see it again.
I scoot to the very edge of the carriage seat and lean farther out the gap where the door used to be.
“Careful,” Arawn says, gripping my upper arm. “You’ll tumble out, little Queen.”
I’m wearing a borrowed cloak since my coat was ruined by the claws of his hound, and his fingers are bands of flame, searing right through it.
I pretend not to feel anything from his touch. Instead I focus on the walls of pale pink brick and the pale stone towers of Allenaye. Rearing over it all is the glistening white dome of Beirgid’s temple.
In happier times, the temple of Beirgid used to draw worshipers from all over Cerato, as well as from nations across the sea. There are orgies held here each year, at the dawn of spring, since Beirgid is the goddess of fertility. My father never approved of them; in fact, I remember him talking about banning them, but my stepmother persuaded him to leave it be. “It’s a tradition dating back millennia, from what I’ve learned in my studies,” she told him. “Besides, as long as there is consent and safety, what’s the harm in a few days of unbridled pleasure?”
Sometimes I forget she wasn’t Ceratan by birth. She devoted herself so enthusiastically to the study of Ceratan culture and history that she seemed native to the land.
Gods, how I miss her.
I stretch a little farther and spy the famous gilded gates of Allenaye. The morning sun reflects so brightly off the gold that I blink and sway, momentarily dizzy. My body starts to tilt out of the carriage, and my stomach drops with the sudden awareness of peril.
Arawn catches me in both brawny arms and pulls me back against his chest. The heavy fabric of my cloak and his coat lie between us, but my body still responds to him with a swift rush of thrilling heat.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp. “I lost my balance.”
Silently he places me back on the seat across from him.
“It’s a beautiful sight,” I tell him. “You should look.”
Tight-lipped, he leans a little way out of the coach.
“Beautiful,” he says quietly. I don’t miss the way his eyes flicker over to me as he says it. He frowns stormily the next second, as if anger can erase the errant thoughts in his head.
He’s still attracted to me. But he’s fighting it, as hard as he can. Of course he would, because there’s no future in a connection between us. Besides which, I’m a skimpy bit of mortal flesh, the one responsible for his recent confinement and discomfort. Not someone an immortal, gorgeous god should want to be with.
“There’s a man on horseback outside the gates,” says Arawn, taking another look.
“A guard?”
“The guards flank the gates and wear gold armor. This man is different. He appears to be waiting for us.”
I move to look out again, and he wraps an arm around my waist. “A preventative measure,” he murmurs into my hair.
“You told me not to touch you,” I tell him. “Shouldn’t you abide by the same rule?”
“It’s absolutely necessary that I touch you, to keep you from falling to your death and causing mine,” he says dryly. “Take your looks, little Queen, and then sit down.”
I peer out, hunting for the man he mentioned. “It’s one of the Reckless Riders! He wears the scarlet cloak and striped armband.”
“Reckless Riders?” Arawn pulls me back inside, and I settle onto my seat.
