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

to us so we might right this wrong.” It was the soft-bodied male again, his voice gentle, almost motherly.

“How?” Meirin replied too fast, trying to draw their attention away from violence. The man to her right sounded almost reasonable, so it was him she addressed.

“When we are in our original bodies again, Mascen is but a child to us. We can send him back. Or end him.”

“And how are we to know you won’t be just as bad? Or worse, even. Since you’d be stronger.”

“Faith.” Enyo suggested, brushing off her sarong, and Delyth snorted derisively. For a moment, Meirin felt a rush of empathy. Delyth had been faithful, once.

༄

“What about the Vassals?” Delyth hated how tired her own voice sounded. Would it be worth it? Letting the Gods loose in exchange for Alphonse?

Yes. The memory of holding the healer was still so fresh in her mind, in her body. She could still feel the brush of gentle fingers on her wing.

It was Va’al who answered. The other Gods seemed reluctant to speak. “We have never inhabited human bodies in this way, but I see no reason why they should not return to normal after we leave. They are still here, after all. Just… tucked away.”

Hope was a weed in Delyth’s chest, climbing up through her arteries to clutch at her heart. She could have Alphonse back. She could stop the horrible deaths of innocent children.

And all it would cost was her freedom.

“You didn’t answer Meirin’s question. Not really.” Etienne’s voice was sharp, cutting through Delyth’s vision. He was right not to trust them, wasn’t he? After all, they’d been through.

Still, if there was a chance… The image of the tiny island came unbidden to Delyth’s mind. Alphonse in a string of pearls, safe and happy.

“There is a way in which we can be sure that they won’t be worse. The Gods can take binding oaths—I’ve felt one. Oaths they cannot back out of.” Delyth looked scornfully at Enyo, unable to hide her lack of anything like admiration. Mascen’s refusal to make the same sort of oath that Enyo had made at Thlonandras had gotten her thinking. If he could easily undo such a thing, why would he have been so careful to avoid it? And there was no question of allowing him to continue as he was, slaying thousands and destroying the once-fertile heartland of Thloegr. If Alphonse had seen the destruction, had known what pain even one suffered at his hands… Would she forgive Delyth for allowing it to continue? Would she have still curled up beside the warrior if she had seen the knife sliding up into the skull of a child? Delyth didn’t know if she would ever forgive herself. Hadn’t she spent her life training to protect others?

“You may have the artifact if you each vow to destroy Mascen, return your Vassals unharmed, and kill no mortal so long as you exist.”

“We don’t know what will happen to the Vassals once we leave.” Enyo’s voice was unapologetic. It was clear that the Goddess wouldn’t mourn Alphonse.

The old man nodded slowly. “We cannot make a promise we do not know how to keep.”

The world spun beneath Delyth’s feet, and she took a huge, shuddering breath. That Alphonse might not survive Enyo’s removal from her body was a risk she hadn’t considered. She might have killed her lover on the plains without having ever known to fear. There was a rustling behind her as Etienne stepped forward and squeezed her shoulder. A small comfort, but one she found steadying nonetheless.

Just staying as she was, Alphonse was dying, slowly fed on by the parasite that infected her body. If there was a chance at all, then it must be taken. The alternative was certain.

You don’t know that she’ll die.

It wasn’t Alphonse’s face that swam before her eyes, though, as she nodded, but a single clear eye in a field of burnt flesh. “Then you will vow to destroy Mascen, return your Vassals unharmed if at all possible, and kill no mortal so long as you exist.”

“Of course, there will need to be another Vassal for the artifact you have now,” the stranger murmured.

Frustration made Enyo’s face pinch. “And we will not destroy Mascen unless we absolutely have to. He will return to his prison, like before.”

Delyth sneered at her. “What, so he can escape and start all of this again? Either kill him or banish him as you were banished, or we have no deal. I understand the necessity of another Vassal, but they will need to be infected for the shortest possible time.”

“He will not escape again!” Enyo argued. “The wards around his island faded because you humans banished us!! Who do you think kept those walls intact? This is all because of your folly—not ours.”

“He was your son! You created this! You have no right to admonish any mortal for learning to protect themselves from such— such—” Words seemed to fail Delyth, so she fell silent, the muscles in her neck standing rigid with tension. “If you are too weak to destroy him, then bind him as you were bound.”

“And you call us the monsters! He is our child. One of our own. Your simpering lover would never condone murdering a child.” Enyo was sneering. “What will she think of you, Ba’oto, when she finds out what you’ve done? Hmm? I can control her memories, you know. Let us try to preserve some part of Mascen, and I will keep your— what do you call her? Little bird? From knowing who you truly are.”

“You survived banishment, didn’t you? Preserve him that way,” Delyth snapped, too angry to be easily cowed. “Besides, that is no fucking child. It's a lunatic with too much power, out killing for sport. And you have already said you cannot be sure of what will happen to Alphonse. What happens to you, I wonder, if you break a binding oath?”

Etienne stepped forward to stand beside Delyth. “Does it really matter how they dispose