Page 67 of Godsbane
Holy gods.
I have searched the libraries of every governor’s manor, every temple, and every major city in Corinth. Years of combing and questioning only to hit dead end after dead end.
But here it is.
In a dusty leather bag under the bed of the Ruby Region heir sits what might be the only written record of the serpent in our country.
I pour over every word with an insatiable scrutiny, examining every linguistic choice and analyzing the syntax of every sentence until my vision starts to blur. The tale of the sea beast unfolds before me in a haze of foiled pages, one story leading into another and another. Information stripped from our holy texts coalesces into a pantheonic history that the high priests would rebuke as sacrilege. The mere possession of this tome is enough to condemn someone to execution.
Legends, myths, fables—whatever they are, they aredamning. Page after page tells epic tales of a rebellion organizedby Mikais that split the pantheon in half. Stories of the banishment that followed, bestowed by Nobus upon the gods and goddesses who sided with the Wolf God. An account of a mother’s bargain to save her son and the punishment that befell her when the God King discovered she’d plotted to smuggle his heir away in the night.
The beast that marked me, the one that has haunted my dreams my entire life, isn’t a demon after all. Not an omen or a creation of Death, but a mother cursed to live her days in the watery depths for the treacherous act of saving her son from a vengeful father.
Arcasia, the Goddess of Protection who marks all she watches, touched me. And I’m willing to bet she touched Cal, too.
I place the note in the drawer of the nightstand for Kieran to find when he returns. I may be stealing his book, but I can at least leave her words. I slide the volume in the leather satchel, but the flap doesn’t close. Removing it, I shake the bag upside down and pause when something metal clangs against the floor.
An ivory handled dagger with runic markings running down its gleaming alloy blade lies on the ground at my feet.
That bastard stole my blade.
CHAPTER 25
The leather satchel lands on top of the ruby-colored silk bedding with a muffled thud. The room is dark, the sound of my grumbling stomach from missed meals confirming the number of hours I spent engrossed in the strange book of tales that question everything being forced down the country’s throats.
Everything we know about our gods is a lie. Entire lives have been devoted to teaching about the Golden Pantheon and none of it true. Years of being told to thank Nobus for his generous blessings and to blindly worship his divine justice. But just and fair kings rarely incite rebellions.
A rebellion that Kieran’s mom somehow knew about. And if she knew about it, did my mother? Another book that leaves me with far more questions than answers. Answers that my gut tells me Cal has.
The soft, unexpected click of the door opening has me pivoting to face it. Cal offers a sad smile as he strides past me to the desk, setting down a tray filled with cheeses, meats, fruits, and … oh my gods, are those chocolates?
“I thought you might be hungry,” he says when he notices the way my mouth practically waters at the spread.
He pulls out the chair and motions for me to sit before he takes his own seat on the edge of the bed. His eyes assess me thoroughly, searching my facial expressions and body language to silently gauge how my day went.
“We need to talk,” I say between bites of buttery crackers and salty meats.
“Eat first, princess. I can brief you on the situation in Emerald and, when you’re done, we can talk about whatever you want.”
I nod wordlessly, urging him to continue. My topic of conversation is likely to derail us for the rest of the evening, and I need to know what information he was able to gather.
Cal fidgets for a moment before inhaling sharply, his nerve mustered. “He’s truly dead, Ivy.”
I set the plate down, my appetite gone. Pain pricks the back of my head as tears well in my eyes again. I knew it was true, but hearing it confirmed is almost too much to bear.
“Marks didn’t kill him, but he did order a raid on the capital city right after he died. The temples were already draped when the troops arrived. Emerald is under his control. For now.”
My heart stops beating at his words, stalling for several seconds before summoned air fills my lungs and forces it to start again.
“No,” I breathe out. “No.”
“Ivy…” Cal tip-toes around the rest of his news. “Lord Yarrow made a deal with Marks to spare the council, but … fuck, princess,” he groans. “He promised your troops in return.”
Troops,my troops, promised to Marks. A promise Lord Yarrow had no authority to make.
The world tilts on its axis again, threatening to let me slide off its sloped sides into the numb abyss. Cal moves to kneel before me, taking my hands into his. Magic runs wild throughout my body at this touch, his emotions mixing withmine in a miserable symphony of pain and grief. Mists of thin black shadows dance along the wall, wisps that echo the ominous death that plays nightly in my dreams. The prize I can’t decline in a game I never asked to play.
“Ivy.” Cal moves his hands to cup my cheeks, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Do you still want to go to Amale?”
