Page 88 of Godsbane
“Me?” He asks with a half laugh. “Ivy, whatyoudid … I’ve never seen anything like that. Marks is the most powerful god I have encountered and I don’t think he can do what you did.”
“You can,” I say, pulling my hands from his. “You are powerful enough to take on any god. Why don’t you?”
“I can’t access it.” Cal’s hands snag in his disheveled mass of hair as his confession hangs between us. Shadows dance in his eyes, haunted memories that he doesn’t openly share. “It’s only ever responded to you.”
My hand moves to his chest, instinctively splaying across the image of Arcasia’s beast form that connects us and our power. The deal my mother struck with the leviathan to ensure my protection has led me to my end. And the more pieces of this puzzle I uncover, the more I’m certain of what I must do.
“Then we’ll take him down together.”
CHAPTER 32
The sun rises just like it does every day. The birds chirp and the crocuses open their petals to the morning rays as our strange threesome packs up our camp. Everything is as it should be … everything except the atmosphere that hangs between us. The next time we stop will be on the outskirts of Amale.
Kieran has secured us a safe house just outside the capital city, a temporary respite where we can wait until the other governors arrive. He claims it belongs to a non-magical friend of the resistance, but he won’t say who. Every question is met with an annoying ‘trust me’ that makes it increasingly difficult to do so.
The only information he’ll divulge is to confirm to Cal that this supposed ally is covertly acquiring a detailed floor plan of the palace. Considering I am not well-versed enough in its schematics to fully form an attack, I can’t complain.
The time I spent in the palace over the years wasn’t that of an overly welcomed guest, but that of an inconvenient pest that the council was forced to tolerate because of my title. The puppet king’s council is the real pest, one that Marks likely has no intention to exterminate considering he already controls them.
Whichever of theaevussits the Amethyst Throne next will have to disband them if they wish to make any progress towards changing Corinth. I wouldn’t trust a single one of them as far as I can throw them.
Hooves beating on the dirt road are the only sound that’s shared between the three of us as we ride toward Amale.
My magic is still barely at half strength. It needs to rest, and Cal was adamant that we stay for another day so I could sleep, but I refused. We need to get to the city. We need to strategize and perform reconnaissance while the palace is abuzz with activity in the days before the Ascension Vote. It will be our best chance to sneak in undetected and if we wait here, we might miss it.
Anxiety causes magic to dance to life under my skin. It seems emotions are the key to my power. Hurt, anger, and pain feed it like an accelerant on a dying flame. The roughness of my exposed soul like the bark of the tinder, my breath the oxygen that fans it.
Like a graverobber, I unbury my hidden emotions as we ride. I turn over secrets of heavy stone and dig through the dirt of heartache and lies, careful to avoid the iron-clad coffin that contains my heart—the one place I don’t dare open. Power rises within me with each shovelful until it begs for release.
I summon the only element I can call my own, filling the empty ground alongside the road with clusters of deep purple flowers as we ride past.
Godsbane.
Poison.
Death.
All names for the dark blooms that effortlessly sprout from my fingers. All names I’m starting to claim as my own.
It will cost my lifeblood to unmake a god, but no price is too steep to save my home. And if I’m going to have even a sliver of a chance at that salvation, I need to hone my weapon.
Glimmering green bands of my still exhausted magic swirl from my body, drawn to the magnetic pull of Cal’s aura. They tease and prod the edges until it parts for me. I bathe in the shimmering ocean of his power, letting it wash over me until I’m coated in it.
A ball of water forms in my hand, a multitude of magical droplets spinning in aqueous unison.
Cal’s head snaps in my direction, tendrils of his dark hair waving in a breeze that answers to me. The element that has evaded me finally succumbs to my will. Air doesn’t particularly care for my intrusion, but it recognizes me as the ally its master needs to live.
A prideful smile blooms across Cal’s face at the way our power dances, entwined in a delicate waltz that only we can see and feel. The edges of Kieran’s brown cloak ruffle in the wind but he pays it no mind. To him, it’s not the conquered final element, but a natural occurrence.
I push deeper into the shimmering mass of Cal’s power, ignoring the way my cheeks pink under the weight of his praise. I release the air and water in search of the final element he wields.
Even in my weakened state, the glow of our swirling viridian power could rival the sun. Tiny sparks sprout from my fingertips to form a single flame that hovers just above my palm. It’s engrossingly gorgeous, the way the orange base gives way to a flickering yellow center before tapering off into a blinding white point.
Each of the elements is capable of sustaining life or ending it. Despite the constant growth, decay doesn’t claw at me. The dark magic within me quiets in the haze of Cal’s power, not kneelingto him but satisfied to hover at the edges while I take from the god.
The heated call of the magical fire sings to me in a familiar tune:destroy, destroy, destroy. I breathe it in, relishing in the temptation only for a moment. The smoldering sensation courses through me, the flame duplicating itself in my other palm until I hold the beginnings of our ruination in my hands.
A blast of icy wind cuts sharply through the trees, breaking my focus. The fire extinguishes, the ashes collecting in my palms tempting me to call it forth again.
