Page 37 of Godsbane
“Oh.” I try to stifle the surprise in my voice as I ask the question I’m not sure I want to know the answer to. “What for?”
“They’ve got cargo to secure and a ship to catch,” Cal answers.
Ships out of the Bay of Jewels are mostly bound for the island nations or the Abalone Inlet in the Sapphire Region. Will one take Henry to see Marianne? Will the flute he holds so longinglybe replaced with his lover instead? Has he ever given her the same advice about happiness and acceptance?
“Well, if you find yourself in need of some culinary magic or gossip as rich as your brother’s stew, pop into The Royal Jewel. My friend Miles practically lives there. He’ll show you a good time.”
“Yes, please do check in on …Miles,” Cal grumbles as he walks his brothers to their horses before he embraces each of them. His hug with Henry is firm and knowing, but his hug with Theo is a playful display of their dynamic.
When he walks back to my side, Cal extends his hand to help me onto my caramel-colored mare. Magic races up my arm from the spot where our fingers graze as I take them, Henry’s words echoing in my mind as we mount.
Acceptance isn’t surrender.
But it sure does feel like it from where I’m standing.
CHAPTER 14
The tree cover in this part of the Godswood is sparse and the unrelenting sun has me regretting the layers I chose to wear this morning. I stash my brown cloak and gloves in my saddlebag when we stop before quickly emptying my canteen, the cool water doing little to calm the heat within me.
My magic has been restless all morning, something about being in the presence of another magic wielder, even one that has yet to admit his powers, amplifies it beyond its normal annoyance. Gods help us if this is how it’s going to behave all the way to Amale.
Cal’s black hair sticks to his sweat-soaked forehead as he drains the last dregs of his own canteen before reaching for mine.
“I’m going to refill these and then we can get back on the road.” The captain looks almost worried as he does a visual sweep of the area. “Stretch your legs but don’t wander far. I have an uneasy feeling.”
“In that case, I better take this,” I say, pulling the broadsword from its holster tied to my horse’s saddle. “You know, in case all my other blades aren’t enough.”
“Yeah, yeah, the princess who doesn’t need protection,” he jokes as he walks away. “I got it."
When Cal disappears from the clearing, I let my eager magic guide me off the path. Thorny vines that snake from under the thick trees reignite memories of my nightmares drowning in a bottomless abyss. I’ve had plenty of ominous dreams, visions filled with dread and doom, but never one that felt like my body was being physically cleaved into two. Now that I know who he is, now that I’ve said his name, everything feels more real.
Cal thinks I’m in denial. Henry thinks I can’t accept what the gods have written. They’re both wrong. I know inevitability when it stares me in the face.
Like the wind whooshing through an open window to extinguish a flame, my once fiery magic stills without explanation. I call out to it, but it doesn’t answer. Sweat beads down my spine as an utterly powerless feeling kicks my pulse into a frantic pace.
My hand reaches for the hilt of my broadsword as the distinctive snapping of wood sounds behind me. A thick hand covered in coarse white hair presses tightly against my mouth before I can draw the blade, a stubby arm pulling me tight against a hard chest that smells vinegary like spoiled wine with a hint of tobacco.
I can’t see the man’s clothing, but I know his allegiance all the same. The brown leather bracers on his arms are embossed with a battle axe, the sigil of the War Goddess, Drayca. The emblem, once reserved only for soldiers, has been widely adopted by the band of mercenaries who seek to force belief in the gods by any means necessary. They call themselves Deliverers, and I’m a prominent member of their list of enemies.
“What a delightful little treat,” the stranger breathes in my ear, smelling my hair. “Did you really think we’d let you make it all the way to the Ascension Vote, Poison Ivy?”
My stomach roils in disgust as the man lets out a low, sinister laugh and buries his head against my neck. The final straw—his own death sentence, signed. Darkness swirls around the edges of my vision as a cloud moves to cover the blazing sun, casting the clearing in eerie shadows.
Lifting my left foot off the ground, I bury my heel into the man's instep causing him to instinctively lift his now throbbing foot. I take advantage of his loosened grip and momentary imbalance, thrusting my right elbow up and back. A loud crack signals my success as I break both the man’s nose and what remains of his hold on me.
“I’ll kill you for that, bitch!” He growls and lunges forward, unsheathing the sword hanging at his side.
I spin around, barely dodging the first slice of his blade as I raise my own and attempt to call the earth magic that still doesn’t answer. He’s slower than me, but still manages to dodge my sword as we begin to move in a clunky, uncoordinated dance.
Another slice, another miss.
If I’m to have any advantage on this man, I need to use my magic. The dark, decaying side of me, the side that exists to balance out the life in my veins, knows he won’t be walking away from this encounter anyway.
“You can’t run from the gods!” the man yells as he clumsily continues his forward press.
I ditch my sword for a throwing dagger and pivot, stepping back to balance my weight. My foot tangles on the root of a tree—a root I would have sensed if my magic hadn’t decided that now was a great time to take a fucking vacation.
Gravity forces me to the ground, my ass landing in a smacking thud before a large, booted foot kicks me square in the chest, knocking the air from my lungs.
