The god raised his brows. “We don’t need more than one, boy.”
She opened her mouth to continue the intriguing conversation when a massive wave of nausea hit her full force. Leaping backward, she barged past Rhetahn and emptied the contents of her stomach into the river. The hot, rancid liquid burned her throat like lava. She retched, coughing and wheezing between each bout of sickness.
“Oh Gods,” she groaned.
The world tilted around her, and her stomach lurched in distress, like a battle took place inside it. She leaned farther over the side, grimacing at the sourness in her mouth, when someone swept her braid to out of the way.
“Easy.” The god rubbed her back with his free hand. “Don’t worry, little cat. I’m here.”
She whimpered and vomited again. His comforting voice continued as she heaved, the indistinct words alleviating her fear she would never stop. Eventually, head spinning, she pulled back and allowed Rhetahn to twist her into a sitting position.
He stroked her shoulder. “Better?”
She swallowed. “My stomach hurts and my sense of smell has been beaten numb, but yes.”
“Good. Let’s find the fresh clothes you mentioned.”
He helped her stand, stabilizing her when she wobbled. Dax remained atop the cabin, managing to convey his concern despite his wolf façade, his eyes wide and intense. Fen lounged opposite them.
“Thanks for not puking on my nice clean deck.” He grinned and opened his fist to reveal a handful of green, tapered leaves.
She took what he offered. “Mountain-mint?”
The water shifter nodded. “Take a few bites, chew it for a bit, and wash it down with water. It will remove the nasty vomit taste.”
“Thank you, Fen.” She tottered toward the cabin, glancing back in time to catch the god inclining his head at the other men.
“You have my gratitude, both of you,” he said in a gruff tone.
Fen’s nonchalant response was too low to make out and she was too exhausted to ponder the exchange.
Below deck, Rhetahn peeled her from her filthy clothes into a small towel. She was so fatigued, she wasn’t even discomfited by her nakedness. He didn’t seem to notice either, more concerned with the lacerations and bruises covering her body. After accepting soap and a bowl of fresh water from Fen, he tugged her braid loose.
“I can do it,” she protested, as he plucked at the leaves and twigs.
“You’ve been through a horrible ordeal. Let me take care of you.”
She squirmed. “You’re a god. You shouldn’t be waiting on me. Besides, you’ve endured more than me and you’re not wilting like a flower.”
“I wasn’t attacked by an eachy this morning. Remind me to never let you go outside alone.”
She tutted. “I won’t fall for the lost child act again. Besides, I killed it in the end.”
“That’s not the point, Libby.” He hesitated. “I’m proud of you, though. Eachys are vicious predators. Their prey rarely survives in the water.”
After removing the muck, he washed her hair, untangling it with his fingers. He traced the nape of her neck, making her shiver with something other than cold. Tipping her head back, she leaned against him, her muscles unwinding.
Once he finished with her hair, he washed away the muddy streaks on her face with something close to tenderness. She clutched the towel around her yet couldn’t summon much awkwardness. He’d already explained the truth root concoction would leave her weary and lethargic—plus overly frank—for the next few hours. Although she should be outraged over her faculties being compromised, her tiredness made it impossible.
He located her rucksack, which Dax had snuck on board during their departure, and guided her into clean underwear, leggings, and a sage-colored tunic dress. The new clothing made her swoon as she chewed the mountain-mint and swallowed it with water, relishing the crispness in her mouth.
“Lie with me a while.” The god tugged her on to the double berth. “I’ll need to take my turn on sentry duty at some point, but you must sleep.”
She joined him on the bed, snuggling into his arms and resting her head on his chest. He smelled as good as ever, water herbs mixed with alpine trees and wildfire ash. His solid heartbeat thumped against her ear.
“Rhetahn,” she mumbled.
“Yes, little cat?”
“I’m sorry I tried to start a revolution in the forest.”
She felt, rather than heard, his rumbling laugh. “Apology accepted. The intention behind your miniature uprising was honorable. And courageous.”
She nuzzled into his chest. “Rhetahn.”
“Yes, little cat,” he replied patiently.
“Have many women told you they love you over the years?”
“They have. Whether they meant it is another matter.”
“Well, I meant it,” she said, offended he might think otherwise.
He chuckled again. “I know. Truth root has its uses, it seems.”
“Rhetahn, do you love me a bit, too? Or do you just need female comfort and there’s no one else around?” The resulting silence lasted long enough; she gave a deep sigh. “I suppose not answering is an answer in itself.”
He touched his lips to her ear. “You’re mine now, Libby. Every fiber of your soul belongs to me, and I’m never letting you go.”
She shivered. How could such potent, possessive words fill her with overwhelming reassurance and shy desire? She tilted her head for a kiss. He obliged with so much gentleness, it was she who deepened their embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him closer.
He rose on one elbow without breaking the kiss, nudging her onto her back. Her body liquefied at his muscled form pressing against hers and she sighed in pleasure when his lips trailed to her throat.
This embrace seemed different, though. His practiced actions of earlier were replaced with sweet, reassuring caresses. Something close to reverence touched his motions. He was the god, but she was the one being worshipped as he lavished kisses on her skin and ran his hands across her body, like he couldn’t believe she was beneath him.
She grasped his shirt and tugged, shocked at her own daring. He hesitated, then obliged, pulling it over his head and tossing it away. Holding himself on his elbows, he surveyed her with a fiery gaze as she trailed her hands up his smooth, warm sides and splayed her palms across his chest. The stab wound jarred against her fingertips. She avoided it and continued her exploration, caressing his biceps, a delicious warmth pooling in her lower belly.
“I’ve never done this before.” She flexed her fingers on his muscles, captivated by his restrained power. “Do you mind me touching you? I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”
A pained laugh escaped him. “You could have fooled me, little cat.”
“I like it when you call me that.” She stroked his muscled abdomen. “Rhetahn, are you different when you’re at your full strength?”
“How do you mean?”
“When I first came to Trivium, they told me you were formal and imposing. You’re not though, are you?”
The feel of his lips brushing across her cheek made her smile.
“Perhaps I’m different when I’m with you,” he said.
“Hmm. You should let more people see the real you. You’re wonderful.”
As he claimed her lips with fierce insistence, she kissed him back, arching eagerly. Her nipples were hard peaks against her clothing; he brushed his hand over them, and molten lava bubbled through her veins in response. As his fingers drifted to land above her knee, the kiss became softer, more soothing. Caressing her inner thigh, he edged his way toward the pulsing heat between her legs.
Her skin almost seemed to sizzle beneath his fingertips, eagerness warring with trepidation, nervousness with desire. Closing her eyes, she trembled as he stroked the crease at the very top of her thigh...then blunt claws pattered on the roof and they both froze. Fen’s murmured voice filtered from above, followed by a quiet, lupine yap.
A sigh escaped her. “I wish we were alone.”
He cupped her cheek. “We will be soon. I promise.”
Nuzzling into his hand like a kitten, she kissed his palm.
With a shuddering sigh, he settled back, tugging her with him. “Go to sleep now, Libby.”
After a few moments, she spoke again. “That was nice, but you didn’t answer my original question.”
His warm, bare chest quaked with laughter. “I’m afraid you’ll get no more answers tonight. Get some rest. Tomorrow could be eventful.”
“What will we do when we find Thassa? How will we restore your power and bring back Storren?”
An answering wasn’t forthcoming and instead of nagging him for a response, she drifted into slumber.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sunlight streamed through the portholes as Libby blinked open her eyes. Cuddled under a fleecy blanket, she listened to the cheerful birdsong mixing with the murmur of male voices. Her throat was as coarse as sandpaper and her body ached from the run-in with the eachy, but her stomach was solid again, her mind clear and unhazy.
She couldn’t believe she’d told Rhetahn she was falling for him. His response had been...surprisingly appreciative. Would they have the chance to be alone today? She couldn’t prevent a flutter of anticipation.
Sitting up with a yawn, she squinted through the nearest porthole. The willow trees were gone, replaced by a small, grassy flat and two pairs of booted legs. Her companions had moored in a new location and debarked. The river was much rougher than yesterday, the sleek craft bobbing and dipping in its stationary position.
Curiosity superseded her languor and she hopped from the bed, rummaging in her rucksack to find the spare boots she’d taken from Fen’s lodge. Someone had left a flask, some sourdough wedges, and a handful of mountain-mint on another berth. She gobbled up the bread and chewed the herbs, then washed them down with water.
Cool wind buffeted her when she climbed out of the hatch, whipping her hair in every direction. The sun held little warmth and she shivered. The boat was tied to the left riverbank, next to an open, flat area consisting of coarse grass, jagged stones, and duckweed-filled puddles. Beyond the grassy flat, a mountain ridge inclined to a towering peak running in an uneven line far into the horizon. More elevations rose on the opposite bank, with conifers and pine trees dotting the slopes. The Steek flowed between the two ridges, vanishing into the distance in a thunder of white-tipped torrents.
She now understood why the current had intensified. This was Amity Canyon, the infamous white waters leading to Scabarus Gorge. Other jagged mountains loomed beyond the two ridges; some peaks so vast, thick mist hid them from view. Between them were more rivers, joining the canyon to create a magnificent ravine full of rapids and waterfalls. Fluffy clouds with ominous gray underbellies were gathering above it. She shivered again, from cold and from sheer awe at the spectacle around her.
She climbed on to the gunwale, holding on tight enough to whiten her knuckles. Thick rope connected the boat to wooden poles alongside the bow and stern. Waves lapped at the riverbank’s mud-packed edges. A hand loomed in front of her; she grasped it automatically and hopped on to solid, if rather muddy, ground.
She opened her mouth to greet Rhetahn, but only managed a squeak when he brushed his lips across her inner wrist.
“Good morning.” He escorted her away from the edge. “Are you better?”
She cleared her throat. “Much, thank you. What time is it?”
He glanced at the sun, which was disappearing behind the gathering clouds. “Almost noon.”
“I slept for fourteen hours?”
“That’ll be the snow daisy.” Fen sauntered over to join them. “Exhaustion is a side effect of truth root ingestion. Shame, I could’ve done with your assistance earlier if you have nautical experience. The two land-lovers you abandoned me with were a bloody hindrance when we departed the willows.”
She furnished both men with a glare. “Yes, let’s discuss the truth root incident. I don’t appreciate you three compromising my free will...where is Dax, anyway?”
“He’s off on a mission.” The god jerked his head toward the incline. “Can the scolding wait, or should Fen and I expect two helpings?”
She gave him an admonishing look and saw his eyes twinkle in response. Biting her lip to hide her smile, she busied herself studying the ridge he’d pointed out. “What kind of mission?”
“A scouting kind,” Fen said. “The main route across the canyon is situated on the other side of this ridge. Dax has gone to ascertain how far the council and their demon escorts have come, and which way they’re headed.”
She furrowed her brow. “We already know they’re heading for Trivium.”
“We assume they are.” Rhetahn brushed her a lock of hair from her face, like he couldn’t resist touching her. “They may divert to the Central Mountains first, to meet this apparent army advancing from Rasp Ridge.”
“Do we have a plan now?”
“We do.” The god’s dubiousness came through in his tone. “It’s not as comprehensive as I’d like and has dependencies on Dax’s report. He set off two hours ago and should be back soon.”
“Was he in wolf form?”
“Leopard,” Fen said matter-of-factly. “Better for climbing.”
“How many forms do you have, Fen?”
He gave her an impish grin. “What a bold question, young lady. I thought you only had eyes for one man’s form on this expedition.”
The answering heat in her cheeks made her dizzy. “Oh, just tell me the bloody plan.”
Rhetahn gave her a warm smile. “Dax will confirm the council’s location and the number of demon escorts. If it’s a handful, we can deal with them ourselves in a simple ambush. If there are more than we can handle, we’ll wait for Jahda and Terash’s soldiers. Our contact point is there.” He pointed to the ridge on the other side of the river. “Once we’ve assembled, we’ll storm in. The soldiers will distract the demons and other sorcerers, enabling us to secure Thassa and find the Rondure. We’ll fly him to the North Sleets for interrogation.”
She frowned. “What about renewing your power?”
“That can wait.”
“It can?” She put her hands on her hips. “Since when?”
“Since an audacious human turned my immortal life upside down.” The god’s quip earned a chuckle from Fen. “I’m not sacrificing you, and I don’t want to kill a servant either. Moreover, I doubt you’d let me if I tried.”
“You’re right there.”
“Thus, my priority now is obtaining the key to restoring Storren’s life and power, then returning to Trivium to help Mhaljett fight whatever malady ails him. Two revitalized gods will be enough to defeat a minor uprising by demon rabble, and I can wait until the Rondure replenishes its power to renew my own.”
Incredulous joy filled her at his casual words. “What if it takes years?”
He shrugged. “I’ll take a well-earned break for the duration. Perhaps I’ll become a goat herder, or a fisherman.” At her disbelieving giggle, he raised his brows. “Maybe I’ll come to Paskyll and keep you company. Would that be acceptable?”
She beamed. “I suppose I could tolerate you for a bit. By the way, you mentioned ‘we’ a lot in the plan to snatch Thassa. You shouldn’t put yourself at risk. Are you able to shift now?”
“Soon.” Eagerness touched his voice. “It’s coming back, I can feel it. If not—”
A blinding flash burst above their heads, then the ground exploded around them.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Stars swirled in Libby’s vision. She wheezed, bruised and winded after flying backward and landing in a heap in a boggy puddle. Wincing at the ringing in her ears, she rose on her elbows and searched her surroundings.
Fen lay motionless on his back near the river, blood pooling like a red crown around his head. Rhetahn crouched close to his former position, his sword loose in his hand. The explosion of
magic charred the ground around his feet, but he seemed unharmed. Beyond him...
Her pulse raced.
Demons advanced from the nearest ridge. The large group was coming fast, sliding over the gravel, weapons bared and dark-tinged magic flaring across their hands. Bloodcurdling snarls echoed around the rocks, flooding her veins with terror.
She forced herself up and staggered to the god. “Demons...they’re here...”
“A patrol,” he said tersely. “I’m a damn fool to have kept us in the open. You know how to sail?”
“Yes, but—”
“Good. Get on the boat.”
The command in his voice brooked no argument. She ran for the Cordelia, ignoring her throbbing muscles. Leaping aboard, she dodged Fen’s comatose form as Rhetahn slung him toward her. The water shifter slumped to the deck, blood still oozing from the wound on his head. Ducking under the boom, she sank beside the water shifter to check for further injuries. A groan was his only response.
“It’s all right, Fen,” she babbled, as the god swung his sword through the bow rope. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it away.”
With the first rope sliced in half, the boat swung outward, dragged by the strong current. The remaining rope tensed at the strain. As the thunder of footsteps increased, Rhetahn jogged back to stand opposite the stern. She stumbled into place at the helm, waiting for him to jump aboard and cut the final rope.
He didn’t move.
Sudden, terrible realization hit her even prior to his words.
“Sail downriver and debark on the other side, before you hit the rapids,” he said. “Find Jahda and tell her the plan. If she can get the Rondure, Storren may yet be saved.” He met her wide stare. “In two thousand years of life, nothing has meant more to me than my time with you.”
He swung his sword through the second rope.
“Rhetahn!”
Her scream was lost in the sound of rushing water as the vessel left the bank. With no sails up, it spun into the center of the river and caught the current. Helpless, Libby stared, horrified, at what she left behind; the god facing the demon horde, by all accounts utterly calm as he prepared to distract them while she and Fen escaped. The horned creatures jeered and shouted, their tails lashing from side to side. Most were Rhetahn’s height or even taller, but despite their greater numbers and formidable size they looked wary when azure magic raced from his fingers into his sword. He made a taunting, beckoning motion with his free hand, as if goading them into attacking.
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