Defiance

by Sadie Moss

  But when he speaks like that, his tone so full of conviction, so full of tenderness, I can’t help but believe that something more than a soul-link exists between us.

  That he cares.

  Just as I do.

  I turn to face him and realize I’m completely encased between Echo’s body and the tree. He has one hand against the bark beside my head as he leans in to me.

  “Why did you betray Kaius to save me?” I ask, the words coming out in a soft breath. “Why? Please tell me.”

  Echo shifts, blinking once. It’s the only indication he gives that my question has caught him off-guard. His one hand remains leaning on the tree, but he lifts the other to graze my arm, his fingers trailing up over my shoulder until they reach bare skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

  “My brothers and I were created to serve Kaius.” He speaks in a low voice, as if choosing his words carefully. “For hundreds of years, we have done his bidding both in times of peace and in wars with other gods. We’ve aided in running his kingdom.”

  My breath catches in my throat as he takes a step closer to me. One more step and our bodies will be touching, pressed together from head to toe. Even with the space he’s left between us, his lips are so close to mine that I can feel the warmth of his breath as it fans over my skin. His plum and clove scent infuses every breath I take, seeping into my lungs like a sweet drug.

  Our hunt, and the deer in the cave, have suddenly lost all importance to me.

  Echo studies me with a dark, hooded gaze. His hand keeps trailing upward from my shoulder to my neck, and heat blossoms beneath his palm until he cups my neck. He presses his thumb into my jaw, urging me to look up into his eyes.

  “In all the time I’ve existed, I’ve never dared to defy my god,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing a slow circle on my jaw. “But when Kaius ordered your execution—and ordered us to take you away—something shifted inside me. Defying him, once unthinkable, became the only option. Protecting you was my only thought.”

  Emotion wells up inside me, and I’m frozen by the realization of what he just told me. He chose me over Kaius without a second thought. What does that mean? How is something like that possible?

  Echo and his brothers were created to serve Kaius, bound to their god by their very purpose for existence.

  They weren’t created to serve me.

  Yet they chose me all the same.

  I want to ask him more, to probe deeper and find out exactly what the implications of this are. I have a feeling the men themselves didn’t think they could refuse an order from Kaius—from the way they talk, such a breach between messengers and their god shouldn’t even be possible.

  So how did it happen?

  But before I can form the words to any of the questions I want to ask, his gaze drops to my lips, and another wave of sensation rolls through my body. Our soul connection thrums between us like a musical instrument begging to be played, painful in its intensity.

  Giving in to the need coursing through me, I close the space between us, meeting his lips hungrily.

  This is nothing like the desperate, bruising, near-mad kiss I shared with Callum only three days ago. Echo’s lips are slow and sure as he thoroughly explores my mouth, his fingertips in my hair, on my neck, sliding low over my breasts as if he’s testing the waters of my body.

  But I want more. I’m tired of being tested, of being afraid to act. I grasp the front of his shirt and pull him harder against me, my teeth grazing his lower lip.

  He makes a noise of approval low in his throat, and the sound resonates through me, lighting up my nerve endings.

  Echo’s hand moves over my ass, his fingers dropping lower as his kiss deepens. I wrap my arms around his neck, yielding to his kiss, his tongue hot and firm against mine. Then he wraps his hand around the back of my thigh and drags my leg up, lifting until I’m open against the hard, thick evidence of his desire, my leg wrapped around him.

  My dress is a useless farsing obstacle between us. Echo grinds his thick cock against me, and the feeling of his hardness pressing against my clit, even through the layers that separate us, is enough to make me mindless. I can feel him starting to lose control too in the way our kiss grows wilder. He yanks down the neckline of my dress, pulling the fabric to its limit to reveal my breasts, and his lips move away from my mouth. They feel like liquid heat on my skin, trailing down my neck and collarbone until his mouth wraps around my nipple.

  I fall back against the tree, both of my hands tangled in his hair as he nips and tugs at my breast. Then he grasps a large handful of my skirt, lifting and shoving aside the fabric until my lower half is naked to the cool air.

  My heart stutters in my chest, and I hold my breath as his hand moves low.

  As his fingers slide between my legs, I gasp against his lips and arch into his hand, pressing my hips away from the tree as I demand more from him.

  Farse, I want him. I want him so much.

  I don’t think I say the words out loud, but it’s like he can hear them anyway. He groans in response as his mouth returns to my lips, his kiss ravenous and wild. One thick finger dips inside me and I suck in a breath, reaching down mindlessly to caress his hard length with one hand. I’m well aware I could shove his pants down right now, pull him out, and guide him inside me. Could replace his finger with his thick cock. Could connect with him in the purest, most visceral way there is.

  I want to do just that, maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire existence.

  Undulating my hips against his touch, I hook my fingers in his waistband and tug, and Echo grunts into my mouth.

  Then a rustle breaks through the cocoon we’ve created.

  Echo’s hand stills inside my aching core, and he breaks our kiss, looking over my shoulder toward the cave.

  What…?

  I struggle to come back to myself, to steady my ragged breathing.

  “The deer is on the move again,” Echo says, his own voice hoarse. He stares down at me, duty warring with desire on his face. His fingers flex inside me, and he watches intently as the motion makes me gasp. “We need dinner.”

  I need you, I think, but I keep the thought to myself. He’s right. There’s no way to know if we can even find another animal worth hunting in this forbidding place.

  So we right our clothes, grab our makeshift spears, and take off after the creature.

  But I wish with everything inside me that we hadn’t stopped.

  12

  No longer hungry the next morning, we gather our supplies—and the leftover deer meat—to make the final leg of our journey.

  The three messengers are no longer sniping at each other and seem to have come to an agreement on where this portal actually is in the Expanse. It brings about a nice change of pace from our prior days of travel, with Echo and Paris bantering playfully with each other while Callum rolls his eyes but gets in a few good-natured shots of his own.

  I’m wound tight with tension, still riding the desire I left untapped with Echo the night before. The way he’s so easily fallen into his usual attitude drives me mad, as if he isn’t in the slightest bit bothered by our interrupted tryst. I’m clearly harboring enough discontent for the both of us.

  We finally find the portal just before the sun reaches its midday peak. Callum doesn’t force me to hold on to him as we step through, and I can’t help but be reminded how he’s avoided contact with me since our kiss, sitting stiffly and stoically as I’ve checked his wound and stepping away from me as soon as possible. I should be glad that he’s finally allowing me to travel portals on my own without picking me up like I’m a child, but instead, I’m bothered by his obvious need to keep his distance from me.

  We exit the portal into the human realm and find ourselves on a small hill overlooking a settlement a few miles away. The sun is lower in the sky here, reminding me of the way time moves differently in the mortal plane and the afterworld.

  Paris and Echo immediately set to work healing Callum’s
burns, and although I want to volunteer to help, I’m not sure I could take the sting of rejection if Callum pulls away from my touch. So I busy myself with trying to get my bearings instead.

  A settlement looms large in the valley below—much larger than my village, but smaller than Ironholde. I don’t recognize it.

  “Where are we?” I ask, shaking dust and sand from the hem of my skirt. The grass is soft and green beneath my leather boots—a welcome change from the firm, cracked dirt we left behind in an arid part of the Expanse.

  Callum stretches and gives a satisfied nod as his brothers step away from him, finished with their healing.

  Paris holds a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun as he steps up beside me to look down at the city below us. “Kaius’s realm on earth. We’ll stop for food and supplies in the city, then use the weave to travel to our destination. Easier that way.”

  “What is the city called?” I ask, curious if I’ll know the name. While Zelus’s realm often felt small and stifling, we weren’t completely isolated. Word occasionally reached us of far-away lands where life was easier and food more plentiful. Many times while alive, I attempted to convince my family to leave and seek a new, better home. But my mother felt an intense obligation to remain and care for the people of our village—and an obligation to Zelus too, I think, having worshipped him her whole life—so we never did.

  Paris drops his hand, turning his head to look down at me. “The settlement is called Caelfall. One of the most populated of Kaius’s towns.”

  “A safe haven for artists,” Echo adds, a note of pride in his voice. “Many exalted composers, wordsmiths, and painters have come from Caelfall.”

  I’m not familiar with the name, though that’s hardly surprising. For one thing, while some places do gain notoriety and become well known throughout the world, most villages are like mine—small and obscure, an island unto itself in a vast kingdom. Besides, we’re in another god’s realm entirely, and I imagine the further we travel from Zelus’s lands, the less likely it will be that I know anything at all.

  Secondly, my village isn’t the most versed in the arts of any sort. Half of the people I knew in life were illiterate, though thankfully my mother ensured I wouldn’t be. My village valued skills that could keep us safe, fed, and healthy—anything beyond that was simply fluff.

  Callum grabs Echo’s shoulder and pushes him into motion. “Stop acting like the success of Caelfall is solely yours.”

  “Callum’s right.” Paris shakes his head as we all fall into step on the way down the hill. “Any artistic success in Caelfall is directly attributable to Kaius, not you.”

  “I’m not particularly fond of Kaius,” I point out. “So if Echo wants to proudly take credit, I’ll support him.”

  The playful messenger’s laughter bounces over the gently rolling hills around us, and he winks at me. “Perhaps I should be the new god.”

  “All praise Echo,” I tease.

  Then my cheeks flush. Even though it’s all in good fun, I can’t help but think of last night and just what kind of praising I would have done to him. He already has the body and the ego of a god—all he needs now are the worshippers.

  Oh, how I would worship him.

  I clamp down on that thought so hard I nearly give myself an instant headache, averting my gaze in the hopes that none of the messengers can read even a hint of my thoughts.

  At the bottom of the hill, Callum deftly tugs on the weave and begins the short journey across the valley. We’re able to travel to the small city via two easy leaps through the weave, and we come to rest just outside the walled gates.

  From up close, I can see this that particular settlement is actually much smaller than Ironholde, though it’s very similar in structure, with the same thick, stone walls all the way around the interior city. A pair of formidable wood and iron gates are open to the outside, but the hinges shine with oil, proving them operational. Instead of a castle looming over the city, a stronghold sits atop the apex of the hill—squat and sturdy, made of thick stones and narrow, defensive windows. Enough of a safe place to protect the people in the event of an attack without being overly large.

  But if I expected a bustling, thriving community like Ironholde, I find myself sorely mistaken.

  There is no market waiting for us on the inside like I became accustomed to at Ironholde. For several blocks, we see nobody walking the streets, nobody standing on front stoops or peering out windows. I begin to get a sick feeling in my stomach as I wonder if Caelfall has been struck by some horrific tragedy, leaving no one left alive inside the city walls to greet us.

  Finally, the road widens into a narrow square where several large roads converge, and we see the first residents of Caelfall since we entered the city.

  My footsteps slow as my heart misses a beat.

  What is this?

  These are far from healthy, comfortable artists. A family sits on the curb in patchwork clothing, no cloaks to keep them warm from the autumn chill, while a toddler splashes in the nearby muck. All of them, from the youngest to the oldest, are covered in black streaks of grime as if they haven’t bathed in months.

  An ancient woman with white hair and holes in the arms of her dress raises a chipped mug in our direction. She speaks in a cracked, wavering voice. “Please. I beg you. The children are so hungry.”

  I sweep my gaze over the line of little ones sitting against the buildings behind her. They’re all gaunt, faces pinched and skin sallow. It’s a look I’m sadly familiar with.

  They’re starving.

  Echo reaches into his pocket, and I feel the tingle of the weave working before he pulls his hand back out and offers the woman a gold coin. Her face brightens immeasurably, and she grins up at him, revealing a gap between her front teeth.

  “Bless you, sir!” she says breathlessly, then turns to address her family. “Praise be to Kaius. We can have dinner this eve.”

  Even though my heart warms at what Echo did for that family, I’m too distressed by the scene to say anything to him. None of us are speaking anymore, too busy studying the city as we move silently through it.

  A woman steps out of a tavern carrying a bucket, then tosses the contents in the gutter. The scent of dirty water, feces, and fetid beer wafts over us, and I gag, throwing my arm over my mouth and nose. The barmaid doesn’t bother rinsing the gutter with a fresh bucket of water; she turns on her heel and re-enters the tavern, leaving the vile mixture to bake in the sun.

  As we continue to walk, I notice that the entire city is just as filthy. The streets and sidewalks have to be navigated like quicksand so as to not end up with any number of reeking substances on one’s shoes. Even the buildings are covered in a thin layer of grime and soot, giving the entirety of Caelfall a dingy air. I realize there is no obvious city sanitation—nothing is being done to keep the grime and filth from building up. Even my tiny village managed to keep things better sanitized because, as my mother always preached, cleanliness means healthiness.

  Callum turns down a wide road leading away from the city center. The road ahead is covered in a layer of heavy white smoke, and I smell a hint of burning wood. We barely make it a few feet before we’re intercepted.

  A tall man in a black robe wearing a frightening plague mask steps between us and the smoky road. “This path is not safe. You should detour.”

  Behind him, I notice movement through the swirling smoke. Two more men in matching robes and masks are tossing a muslin-wrapped body onto a cart.

  “What has happened?” I ask, though I avoid looking at the monstrous mask. I understand the theory behind it—the herbs in the long nose act as a mask between the wearer and the dead, though my mother always debated the merits of such a thing. But the large, dark holes for eyes and the unnatural shape looks too much like a nightmarish monster for my imagination.

  “Disease has ravaged this neighborhood,” the man replies. He has a fairly cultured tone, well-spoken and succinct. At first sight, I thought him an o
fficer of the law, but the robe and kind voice make me believe him now to be a priest of Kaius. “We’ve quarantined the worst of it, but you’ll not be wanting to continue down this road.”

  Behind him, the other robed men return with yet another body that they heave into the waiting cart.

  “What happens to the victims?” I ask, still riveted by the steady flow of wrapped corpses emerging from the building. “Once you remove them from their homes, I mean.”

  A note of regret enters the man’s tone. “They’ll burn, unfortunately. It’s safer for the city that way.”

  I gasp, my hand fluttering to cover my mouth as the man bids us good day and trudges back toward the quarantined area. As if it weren’t horrific enough for these people to die in so much pain and isolation, the poor souls won’t even get a proper burial and resting place. Any surviving family members will have nowhere to go to mourn their loss and celebrate their loved ones’ lives.

  The thought reminds me of my mother and brother, and how my true body rests comfortably in the burial ground on the sacred foothills outside my village. But will she visit it now that she knows I still exist? Is it even necessary for her to pay respects to a body knowing the soul has regenerated elsewhere? What a confusing concept for her to work out.

  Nish, what a confusing concept for me to work out.

  “People are no better off here than in my own village,” I murmur between my fingers as the now-full cart of the deceased begins to amble off into the smoke. “Even worse, perhaps. They don’t have forests to hunt or land to plow to at least try to feed themselves. Their city is collapsing. Wasting away.”

  Nobody responds to my observation. The men remain silent as the grave as Callum leads us back out to the main road. I’m operating under the assumption he knows where he’s going and we aren’t just randomly wandering through Kaius’s failing city, so I continue to follow him.