Page 72 of Godsbane
Whatever we are, whatever I am, it’s more than a bedtime story about elemental magic wielders. Theaevusof lore can’t do what I just did—what we just did.
Cal’s head falls until it rests against mine, his body tense in anticipation.
“Gods,” he whispers. “We are gods, Ivy.”
CHAPTER 27
The world tips, spinning on a new axis that feels simultaneously strange and natural. There’s so little oxygen that I can barely think straight. Power washes over me, slowing the blood racing through my hammering heart and filling my lungs with summoned air.
“How?” I demand.
How is any of this possible? How can we be gods in a world that keeps us powerless?
“The rebellion was real. The motive for it is still unclear to me, if I’m honest. Marks … he told me that Nobus grew too powerful, but I don’t think that’s the entire truth. He and our mothers were exiled here for their part in it.”
“My mother was a goddess?” I breathe in disbelief.
She never told me. Never prepared me. Maybe she hoped that magic wouldn’t find me? Maybe she thought I’d be spared?
“The woman who raised me, Rhea … she told me the story of theaevus. It’s a mostly made up story,” Cal continues, his words carefully chosen like an artist selecting the perfect colors for his masterpiece. “There was a sudden influx of magic in a magicless realm and the newly exiled gods needed a way to explain it. Theycreated a myth, a false history to spread around campfires and taverns, and used their power to force humans to believe it.”
Tears silently streak down my face as I process Cal’s words. The revelation causes my body to shake again, nausea roiling in my stomach. It’s too hot in this tent, too hot against Cal’s body. His arms grip me tighter, panic taking root as magic races through me uncontrollably.
“Breathe, princess.”
Two words.
One command.
Just like that, my power quiets, receding back into my core and curling tightly around my aching heart.
Cal’s broad hands stroke my hair softly, rocking me back and forth in silence. His touch is intimate, more than a lover’s, more than the heated passion we’ve shared. A comforting touch unlike any I’ve felt.
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” he says calmly. “I’ve had years to come to terms with it and it still feels unreal to be agod.”
There’s an understanding, apologetic quality in his voice. If this information came from anyone else, I wouldn’t believe it. My magic wouldn’t be chanting a resoundingyesin my head to confirm every word spoken if they came from anyone else’s lips.
I know it and yet I still want to yell at him, to call him a liar and harass him for attempting to fool me. But I can’t. It knows—I know—with absolute certainty that Cal is telling the truth.
“If we’re really gods, why can we only tap into the elements?” I ask.
I always imagined their power was raw, moldable into whatever they were born to control, not limited to earth, air, fire, and water.
“This realm seems to subdue our true power. For me, it took a catalyst to force my magic to life here. I could wield a little as a child, but it wasn’t until…”
His voice trails off, his pain barreling into me with the reminder of that day on the battlefield. Thousands of dead Synalian soldiers dropping to the ground in an image so vivid that it’s as if I can see his memory.
“How old were you when …” I can’t voice the rest of the question, but I don’t need to.
“Twenty-six,” he replies.
Two years ago. Cal’s power manifested on the battlefield two years ago when he was only…
“Wait.” I sit up, turning at the waist to look him fully in the face.
“It’s not a coincidence.”
Of course he’s already connected the dots. Of course my full magic would also wake from its hidden slumber at twenty-six. Of course we have that in common, too.
