Goddess Liv Savell (best autobiographies to read .TXT) 📖

Dark eyes, previously so aloof, shot back to Delyth with visceral intensity. So he hadn’t known, then.

“Her body back?” The hand at his side clenched and then relaxed. He blinked and looked away. “That would be very bad for the humans of Rhosan indeed. She is a difficult mistress to serve. As is my father. That is why I have come to liberate Rhosan and her children.”

Delyth doubted that Mascen had come to Thloegr for any purpose other than to serve himself—since when did any God care about humans?—but she did not say as much. In fact, she did not comment on the second part of his statement at all. Better to say nothing than disagree with him; for all his seeming civility, Mascen was powerful and clearly not adverse to using his power. The warrior ground her teeth. She was not prone to spouting her opinions, but having to act cautiously out of fear was as unpleasant as it was against her nature.

“That is her current plan,” she said simply. If Mascen put pressure on Enyo, it might buy her and the others time to decide what to do with the artifact in their possession.

Unless, of course, he managed to catch up with Enyo.

Delyth’s blood ran cold at the thought, her chest caving open. Had she just put Alphonse in danger?

“My mother plans often. Rarely does she have the foresight to see those plans to fruition. Tell me, cousin, how is it that you know her aspirations? Presumably, you were fighting her because you disagree with them.”

As Enyo’s aspirations did not include leaving Alphonse’s body unharmed or letting Delyth out of her oath of servitude, the warrior thought she could easily affirm that she did not agree with the Goddess. Though neither did that mean she agreed with Mascen. Illygad had been better off before the Gods returned. All of them should have rotted in their prisons forever.

Though, all she said, was a simple “yes,” more in answer to his statement than the question that preceded it. “She told me of her plans herself.”

Mascen turned to Delyth, his gaze heavy on her face and shoulders.Despite the darkness of his eyes, there was something tangibly torrid about them. A flickering that may or may not have been due to the lava behind him. His exterior may be calm, but Mascen was just as cruel as the rest of them. His temper was just under better control.

There was a breath of silence, and then the God’s eye flickered to her. Mascen moved, one moment sixty feet away, the next standing right in front of the winged warrior. She was startled, but Delyth didn’t flinch. She wouldn’t let him see her fear.

“Why you, though? Is it because you’re her priestess? Does she trust you?” He laughed, and Delyth could feel his breath on her cheek, hot and stinking of sulfur. “You’re a priestess fighting her God… Why fight, why not just choose, I don’t know, some other profession?”

Delyth sealed up her face behind a brick and mortar expression, completely blank. These questions didn’t seem directed at her, not really. He wanted to figure it out himself, peel her apart like so many onion layers just for the joy of being clever.

“What does she have on you, then? A secret? An oath? A lover? And you wish to be free of your bonds.” His smile widened, and Enyo shone out of his features. “I’ll strike a deal with you, cousin.”

No one had ever told Delyth just how weak fear could make her feel. Her knees had jellied, and though she kept still, she knew her heart was beating so hard that the pulse must have been visible through her skin. She took a deep breath before answering, searching for the steel in her spine.

“What are the terms?” Delyth would not accept any offer blindly, would try not to accept any offer at all. Only, the insinuation that she might one day be truly free of Enyo was a heady one.

“Simple enough,” he replied, tucking his smile away. “I rather enjoy the idea of killing my mother with her own precious blade. Calamity. You saw it in the clearing. The beastly blade with a blood-crystal pommel. Bring it to me, and I’ll behead her, which of course, will free you.”

No deal. Delyth would not lose Alphonse to get rid of Enyo. Not under any circumstance. Fear for her own safety was rapidly being replaced by fear for her little bird, a more familiar sensation.

But how was she supposed to say no to him?

Delyth took a deep breath before managing something like a shrug. “You assume that I want her dead.”

His black eyes squinted at Delyth, and he laughed. “Humans. Always making things more complicated than they need to be. Fine. What is it that you do want?”

The woman I love, alive and safe and free from any God.

“I want Enyo to live a very long time,” she said, hoping at once to win Alphonse some safety and to avoid pledging herself. “Alone and powerless and unable to enforce my oath.”

Mascen looked down at the warrior for a long moment before he nodded. “I suppose I can do that. And you will bring me Calamity?”

For a frantic moment, Delyth said nothing. Could she refuse to make the bargain and still live to walk away from this meeting? If she died now, what would happen to Alphonse? She had seen the lava boil, Mascen smiling like Enyo on the hunt. For all his niceties, she felt certain that to refuse him would be to give up her life then and there. But the reverse, to allow herself to be sealed in yet another binding oath… It was as though she was being forced to parcel out her freedom in payment for the chance to save Alphonse.

Desperately, she struggled to think of some wording that may give her an out. He had not specified a time,