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

cheeks, trying to wake.  “Get Delyth.” Maybe if they gave her the horn, she could fly off, and the Gods would chase. Or with Delyth at her side and Etienne’s magic, they’d stand a full minute of battle before falling.

The mage didn’t bother to acknowledge her words before dashing off, the flaps of her tent rustling in his wake. Meirin stuffed her feet into her boots, felt the dagger at her belt, and rushed from the tent. Etienne laid his runes ten minutes walk from their campsite. If the Gods were running, they likely had no more than a minute to flee.

Coals from their fire glimmered—fallen stars. How long had she slept? What time was it? An eerie wind whipped through the clearing, and Meirin smelled something sharp. It reminded her of lightning. They didn’t have much time; where were Etienne and Delyth?

She heard his voice then, rising with desperation, trying to stir Delyth.

“Etienne?” Meirin ducked her head, peering through the tent flap, to see Delyth lying in her bedroll, limp as the mage shook her. What was wrong with her? She could see the whites of Etienne’s eyes as he glanced her way. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, and the tension in his neck and shoulders gave away his panic. “I can’t get her to— she won’t—” He shook Delyth again, harder this time, and her eyes rolled behind closed lids. Her lips moved, but Meirin couldn’t make out the words. “Wake up!” Etienne’s fingers were ghost white on Delyth’s shoulder. He must have been gripping hard enough to leave bruises. Overhead, lightning cracked open the sky. A twig snapped. Footsteps?

“Damn you.” Delyth jolted awake with a cry of pain and shoved Etienne bodily away from her. Meirin just managed to jump back, to avoid getting tripped up by his falling form. She lost her view of Delyth, but she could still hear the warrior’s words. “I was with her. Couldn’t you have given me another breath? Another heartbeat?”

Another Alphonse dream, then? Of all the cursed timing…

“Delyth, we’ve got to run! She’s here.” Etienne scrambled to his feet, glanced behind his shoulder. “Leave the tents. We’ve got to move.”

Too late. They were too late. Meirin heard the crunch of booted feet behind her, and she spun to face the creature looming from the darkness. Gethin. Maoz. It was only the dim curve of his jaw that told Meirin who it was. Gethin’s thick build, familiar but moving with more grace than ever before.

“Brig’ian Teeth.” The oath was a reflex, slipping from her lips as a whimper. They were worn down, weaponless, and facing the Gods. With numb hands, she grabbed Etienne by the shoulders, propelling him ahead of her. “Run!” she hissed. Flee. The only thing they could do was flee—rabbits hoping to outrun the fox.

The mage took a few rushed, stumbling steps and then skidded to a halt. Behind them, there came the sound of someone struggling to stop without losing their balance, and a hand fell on Meirin’s shoulder. Delyth. The warrior had gotten to her feet and followed them. But ahead, the sharp planes of Va’al’s face were just visible, winking in and out of existence in the paltry light of their dying campfire. Etienne wheeled away, but Enyo had appeared to his right, hemming them in between the tents. Delyth stepped forward, shoving both Meirin and the mage behind her, shielding them from Enyo and Va’al with a flair of dark wings. A moment passed, and the loudest sounds were of Etienne’s frightened breathing.

“You’ve got something that belongs to me, priestess.” In the space between Delyth’s wing and the curve of her shoulder, Meirin could see the flash of Enyo’s teeth. To her right, a man with a soft build stood between her and Etienne’s tents, hemming them in completely.

“Come and get it, Goddess.” Delyth’s voice was a growl, and nothing in her form showed any sign of fear.

Enyo hissed, stepping forward to accept the challenge when Va’al’s hand appeared at her shoulder, stopping the Goddess from moving forward. It was neither Va’al nor Enyo who spoke next, but the stranger. The old man. “What do you want, human?”

The winged woman laughed, but it was a broken sound. “What do I want? Since when does one of you care about what any of us want? You take the people we love, endanger our lives, burn our towns. You know, I had to kill a child today. Had to. Maybe six, maybe seven years old. I can’t tell you anything else about them because of how badly they were burned, pieces of their flesh sticking to their clothes, to my hands. What gave you the right to come here, to do this to us? Do you think, just because you are powerful, you can destroy everything good there is?”

She stopped, her throat catching, and in the silence, an animal howled in the distance. Eerily human. When no one immediately responded, Delyth went on. “You have taken everything that ever mattered to me, so what use is there now in asking what I want? You are not Gods. Just narcissistic monsters setting yourselves up as some higher power.”

Enyo snorted. “You think we’re bad; you should have seen how it was before we came. Where we came from. All you humans are alike—feeble-minded, soft-hearted. Never willing to get your hands dirty for what matters. So you had to kill a child? When Mascen is through with Rhosan, all children will be orphans.”

“You should have all died in whatever hell hole you came from. Then, you never would have created that horror.” Delyth’s hands clenched at her sides, and Enyo struggled against Va’al’s hold. This couldn’t come to a fight, didn’t the warrior get that? They were powerless, outnumbered.

“As flawed as we may be, human, there are worse things. My—companion is right. Mascen is by far worse than we are. Which is why it is ill-advised to stand in our way. Enyo knows you have an artifact. Give it