Page 39 of Godsbane
“Your slow, painful death is courtesy of Poison Ivy. Your life is meaningless. There are no gods but me.”
I raise my dagger high above my head as darkness blocks out the sun entirely. The Dark God of Death lingers in the shadows waiting to claim another soul. One that I’m happy to deliver to him.
I raise my voice, hoping he hears every word.
“When you get to the Under Realm, give Death my regards. I hope he shreds your pathetic soul."
Throwing my entire body weight behind the blade, I thrust downward straight into the man’s heart. He twitches below me but I twist the dagger in deeper, harder until he goes completely still.
The clouds part as Death recedes, illuminating the corpse below me and the blood that coats us both. Strong hands grip my shoulder, hauling me wordlessly off the dead man.
“Come on, princess.”
I tear my eyes away from the body and take in the captain. His eyes are fully gray again, a mixture of pride, sadness, and longing written across his face.
The darkness within me, now sated, retreats, satisfied with the scales tipped in its favor. And if I leave them unbalanced … I shiver at the thought of what succumbing to its call might entail.
Cal uses his thumb to swipe blood off my cheek and I catch his hand before it can leave my face. The mixture of my power and adrenaline with the captain’s touch is a dangerous concoction, one intoxicating enough that I can’t resist leaning into his hold.
He pulls me tightly against his broad chest, my senses flooding with his salty scent. Cal rests his chin on the top of my head, the nurturing position breaking through my final defense.
Tears leak from my eyes, slowly at first before turning into heaving sobs. But Cal stays unwavering. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. He simply holds me until I can steady myself.
“Don’t tell anyone about this,” I say in a soft threat as I pull back from his chest.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, princess.” He wipes the tears off my cheeks and smiles sadly as the gravity of the situation comes crashing back. “His badge indicates he’s a scout, which means there are more Deliverers a few miles behind him. They’ll be here soon?—.”
“I’ll get rid of the body,” I cut him off.
“I will do it,” he refutes.
“Please, Cal.” The casual usage of this name halts whatever demand he was about to make, whatever command he was about to bark to get me to relent. I have to do this and I have to do it alone. “Let me.”
“Okay,” he says, stepping backward. “I’ll keep an eye out for the others, but you need to hurry.”
When I’m sure Cal is gone, I move towards the drained corpse and plant my palms on the ground around him. The dirtiness of his death requires the creation of beautiful life. Everything in equilibrium.
Plunging deep into the well of my powers, I pull more up than I’ve ever used before. The earth begins to quiver in slow, agonizingly painful ripples as I tear open the ground around me. A hole opens beneath the body, what’s left of my attacker dropping into a shallow grave.
I push harder, diving further into the painful emotions I’ve hidden away in an attempt to wield more magic. My mother’s face. The smell of the salty sea air by the cottage. The feel of her worn leather journal in my small, scared hands.
My arms tremble as I mold the landscape to cover the unholy grave. Thick green grass sprouts from the now desecrated earth, watered by the pools of spilled blood.
But still I dig deeper, focusing on the pain of a lifetime decided by others. The loneliness of being choiceless. Every action or inaction that led to becoming the poisonous thing they created. A lifetime spent neglected by supposedly loving gods. Tiny godsbane flowers burst forth, stretching upwards towards the sun.
My knees give out, collapsing me into a heap on the forest floor. My head swims, black swirling in the edges of my vision and distorting reality. The contents of my stomach threaten to empty themselves, but only dry, painful heaves come.
Foggy and dazed, I stumble to my feet, grabbing trees to steady myself as I force my way away from the magically reshaped earth and into Cal’s waiting arms.
CHAPTER 15
The rough bark of the tree digs sharply into my temple, but repositioning myself would only make it worse. I’m barely managing to stay upright as it is. Through slitted, heavy eyelids, I watch the captain secure my broadsword to the sheath strapped to my mares—I mean, mare.
Gods, how many horses do we have? Six? Four? I could have sworn it was only two.
“You okay over there, princess?”
Cal calls out over his shoulder as I try to focus my vision on what I know to be true. We definitely only have two horses—and I’m riding one of them out of here.
