Mortal.
My scream died and turned abruptly into chest-wracking sobs as I came to terms with my new reality. Fists balled tightly, nails cutting deep enough into my palms to draw blood, I pounded relentlessly against the floor.
The unfairness of everything was unbearable—the thought that my ownbrotherwas the architect of my demise cut me deeper than I ever thought possible.
“Solace,” a voice, a man’s voice, whispered calmly into my ear, taking away the edge of my distress. “Breathe, Goddess.”
I followed his command, my chest heaving unevenly as breath rattled in my chest. Slowly, my vision brightened, my surroundings coming into sharp focus. I felt the bite of the stone against my cheek and fists first, the pain more acute than I could ever recall. Slowly, I uncurled my fists, mesmerized by the sight of warm, red blood dripping from my nails and sliced palms to pool beneath my arms onthe floor. The cold within was suddenly replaced by overwhelming heat, and the pressure against my back became too much to bear. Sweat beaded against my forehead and back, sticking my clothes and hair to my body for a reason other than weather.
“Let go of me,” I rasped to the unknown male pressing his body against my own. It had beencenturiessince I’d let someone, anyone, touch me in such a way, and the feeling of it now, as my world and well-laid plans crashed and burned around my feet, was too much. A burning sensation took root in my skin, causing my stomach to rise in my throat as the male continued to stay firmly pressed against me.
“I. Said.Let go of me,” I hissed, putting as much venom and vitriol into my tone as possible. Immediately, the man scrambled off my back, the warm air instantly cooling my overheated skin. I dropped my forehead to the floor, greedily inhaling unobstructed breaths before pushing myself to a stand, trying to maintain some form of dignity and respect.
The door to the room flew open just as I was adjusting my dress, using a sharp gust of Air to dry it. Unfortunately, nothing at my disposal could fix its tattered and stained state. Not that I would want to, at the moment. It was symbolic of my fight with the godling, a reminder that, despite the loss of my artifact, I still came out victorious.
Internally, I preened at the thought of the Goddess of Destruction lying in the graveyard of my descendants, her power slowly consuming her life force.
Maybe she won’t know how to control it, and she’ll kill herself. It would make my job infinitely easier.
It was the one thought that could maybe keep me sane and my plans somewhat viable. My victory fell flat as I realized how quickly the tides had turned this afternoon.
Just this morning, my victory seemed all but assured.
Now, now, the odds were much more even, the scales balanced once more.
“Goddess?” a hesitant female voice called into the space, and I swung my gaze to the speaker, pinning her with a glare.
Lady d’Hida frowned, her nose wrinkling slightly at my obviously disheveled state of distress.
“What is it, Lady d’Hida? Am I not up to your . . . expectations any longer?” I hissed, gesturing vaguely to my person while blood continued to ooze from my palms and down my fingers to drip audibly on the floor.
Without removing her gaze from me, yet never meeting my eyes, she shook her head once before repeating the action more emphatically.
“Goddess, we were concerned for your safety when we saw the cloud of ashes and embers rise from the Valley. Would you care to share with us whathappened?” Razia’s silky smooth voice cut through the tension between Sasori and me, dragging my attention to the snake hiding slightly behind Sasori’s left shoulder. He was still clad in the garish clothing of Lishahl, and I glared at the absolutely offensive doublet.
Razia followed my pointed gaze to his chest. Surreptitiously, he buttoned his furred black cloak, obscuring the garment from view. “Apologies, Goddess. I came straight from Lishahl with news of my own, but Lady d’Hida informed me that you were . . . elsewhere.”
My eyes flicked to Sasori briefly as I saw a look pass across her face before it was gone once more. There was something in Razia’s statement that Sasori didn’t agree with; it was something worth investigating further at a different time, especially if Razia was lying.
“The Valley has fallen,” I rasped. “Everyone but you three”—I pointed at Sasori, Razia, and the commander of Samyr’s army, who had restrained me during my episode—“out.” My command broke some unknown spell, spurring servants and sycophants alike into action. They scurried from the room like the rats they were, the door closing with a loudthudbehind them.
The white walls rattled with the force of the impact, and I was suddenly surrounded in silence.
“What happened to your hands, Goddess?” Razia asked, his beady eyes undoubtedly tracking each and every one of my wounds and faults.
I refused to answer, instead sweeping to the other side of the table where the commander had already pulled a chair out for me. I sank down with shaky legs, still trembling from my earlier . . . breakdown.
“Report,” I commanded, my tone cold and harsh once more.
“Ash has fallen across the city, blanketing nearly everything and causing some transportation issues,” Sasori began, her voice small and unsteady. “It could take weeks to?—”
“Once my magic is replenished, I will clean the city.” I waved my hand jerkily. “That is the least of my concerns at the moment.”
“Indeed. It seems that you encountered some issues in the Valley?” Razia prodded.
My eyes flashed as I growled low in my chest. The man wasinsufferable,and I was beginning to wonder why I’d chosen to keep him around.
“My brother betrayed us. The female godling is now the Goddess of Destruction. In her naiveté, she attempted to kill me,” I bit out, leaving out the part about my mortality.Thatwould stay a secret long past their own terribly short lives. “Alas, she failed and is currently . . . incapacitated in the Valley.”
