Scorn of the Sky Goddess

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Scorn of the Sky Goddess Page 9

by Tara West


  The folds of his forehead sagged over his long eyebrow. “Da will be mad.”

  “Da will have to get over it,” Ryne grumbled. “You will be spotted by Madhea if you travel with us past Adolan.”

  “Besides,” Dianna added with a forced smile, hoping her soothing tone made up for Ryne’s dark mood, “you are not dressed for cooler weather, so surely your father meant for you only to accompany us to Aloa-Shay.” The giant wore breeches, a vest, a short-sleeve tunic, and no socks or shoes to protect his big, grimy feet. His toes would freeze before they reached Ice Mountain.

  The giant frowned, shaking his head. “Borg no want Da to be angry.”

  Ugh. Poor Borg. She could only imagine the beating the giant would get if he returned too soon. Why had the king sent him? Was he a protector or a spy? She feared the latter, though she suspected Borg wouldn’t remember enough to report.

  She scanned the camp as the men rebuilt the fire. “I’m afraid we haven’t brought enough food for you, Borg.”

  “That okay.” He reached into the pack that was slung over his shoulders and withdrew the biggest fish she had ever seen. It was larger than Mari’s donkey, its skin slick and gray with feline-like whiskers and a large, gaping mouth.

  “Do you need help cooking it?” Zier asked.

  “No fanks, cousin.” Borg smiled before tipping back his head and dropping the fish into his mouth. He smacked his lips loudly while he chewed, the bones making sickening crunching sounds. When one large fin slipped from between his teeth, landing on the ground with a thud, Tar swiped it, then dove into the forest, Brendle chasing after him.

  Borg burped and then softly hummed to himself, staring up at the starry sky.

  The others returned to their places. Unfortunately, Simeon and Ryne sat even closer to Dianna than before.

  “He can’t come with us,” Ryne whispered in Dianna’s ear.

  “I know.” She repressed a shudder at the feel of him so near her. She didn’t know why, but his arm pressing against hers made her uncomfortable, very uncomfortable. Yet if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t know if the discomfort was because she abhorred his touch or enjoyed it.

  “We need to get rid of him,” he whispered again.

  She cast her gaze at Borg, who was still staring up at the stars, a goofy grin on his face. “We will.”

  “How?” Ryne pressed.

  “We’ll think of something.” She spoke out of the side of her mouth, hoping Borg wasn’t listening, though not sure he’d understand the conversation if he was. “I’m sure his Da didn’t mean for him to follow us up the mountain. We will try reasoning with him first.”

  Ryne shook his head, snickering. “I don’t think reason will work on him.”

  “We’ll have to try.” She wasn’t sure if she was more aggravated with Borg’s intrusion or Ryne’s complaints.

  “And if it doesn’t work?”

  She had to fight to unclench her jaw. Ryne truly was annoying. “Then we’ll sneak away.”

  “He can run faster than us.”

  “Okay, Ryne. I get it.” She groaned, raking a hand down her face. Curse her brothers for befriending this annoying ice dweller. “Let’s just worry about getting to Aloa-Shay. We’ll take care of the rest later.”

  Borg would present a real danger if he followed them up the mountain, which made her wonder at King Furbald’s true purpose for sending the giant. He had to know Borg would endanger their mission. Mayhap that’s why the king had sent him.

  “HELLO, MY HANDSOME blue friend.” Madhea giggled as she floated into her guest’s chamber. “How are you feeling?”

  Bane Eryll was sitting up in bed, his complexion a deeper shade of blue, but his face was still gaunt, his mouth twisted in an unpleasant snarl.

  She was beginning to realize his outward appearance was a reflection of his character, an insignificant man who’d been rejected by his people, probably for cowardice or theft, unlike Rowlen who’d been admired for his looks and bravery.

  “Slightly better,” he answered, focusing on her with beady serpentine eyes.

  “Good, good.” She sat beside him, hiking up the sheer fabric of her gown while crossing her legs. Though they were still wrinkled and spotty, they were looking smoother every day. Soon she’d regain her youthful beauty. “You are looking heartier.” She trailed a finger down his scrawny arm, imagining he had Rowlen’s strong biceps. “Have you given our discussion any thought?”

  He turned his gaze to his hands, fisted in his lap. “I couldn’t show you how to reach the Ice People even if I wanted to. Your mountain is so vast, I could never find my way back.”

  Liar. She forced a smile. “What if I had my pixies bring you to the spot where they found you?”

  He blinked at her. “I was lost when they found me.”

  She did her best to maintain a calm, kind demeanor, though it was hard not to scratch his ugly face to shreds. “But you couldn’t have wandered that far from your home.”

  “I have no idea.” His gaze shifted to the wall behind her. “I was caught in a blizzard.” He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. “It’s a wonder I didn’t freeze to death.”

  “You know what I think?” she purred, smoothing a finger down his thigh. She did her best to ignore it when he flinched and then scooted away, looking at her as if she was infected with the plague. “I think you don’t want to tell me where they are. I think you’re still afraid I’ll try to harm them. What can I do to make you trust me?” She licked her lips and scooted closer, reaching for his leg again, her internal temperature soaring with rage when he continued to retreat. This time the horror on his face was so pronounced, it was almost comical. Too bad for him, she didn’t find his rejection funny.

  She’d have to work more magic before he was willing to tell her, and tell her he would, for she was almost out of patience. If Bane didn’t relent soon, she’d mark his final days with misery and torture, making him wish she’d left him at the mercy of that snowbear.

  Chapter Seven

  A Gathering of Ghosts

  Thanks to Borg, who carried Des, Mari, Zier, and Zier’s pack, they arrived at Aloa-Shay by mid-afternoon. After trying to match stride with a giant, Dianna was breathless by the time they reached a small patch of farmland carved out of the lush landscape. Tall pines had given way to shorter, leafier trees and thick flowered bushes. The air was warmer here, too. So warm that even Simeon had discarded his furs and vest, running through the jungle with his bare chest gleaming with sweat.

  She tried not to gape at his tattoos or his glistening bronze muscles. He was definitely better sculpted than Ryne—or most men for that matter. No wonder so many women threw themselves at him. Fortunately for her, she wasn’t like most women, and Simeon’s muscles held little appeal. She repeated that to herself several times while sneaking peeks at his broad shoulders.

  Mari’s home, if that’s what one called it, was a wreck. The hut’s roof had caved on one side, the door was in shreds, and the barn and chicken coop were blackened from fire. The place smelled of burn and decay, and Dianna feared they’d find the corpse of Mari’s cousin inside what was left of her house.

  Alec sat Mari on a tree stump, insisting she wait while they search the grounds. Dianna instructed Borg to sit behind the house, hoping he’d be quiet and not frighten Mari’s cousin—if they found him alive.

  “Tung!” Alec called, rushing through the house.

  “Tung, come out!” Mari yelled.

  When Tar and Brendle raced into the burned shell of the barn, sniffing and barking, Ryne followed them.

  “In here!” he called.

  Mari tried to stand on shaky legs. Dianna rushed to her side, letting Mari lean on her for support.

  Alec emerged from the house and raced past them. “Stay there,” he said to Mari.

  She leaned into Dianna, clutching her vest with trembling hands. “Please let him be alive,” she whispered.

  Dianna’s heart ached for her. Mar
i had only recently lost her father. She’d hate to have to bury the girl’s cousin, too.

  “Let me go!” A man screamed, thrashing as Alec and Ryne carried him out of the barn.

  “Tung!” Mari’s hands flew to her face. “You’re alive!”

  The man went still, craning his neck toward Mari as Ryne and Alec laid him on the ground by her feet.

  “Mari?” the man rasped.

  Dianna stepped back, overwhelmed by a rotten stench that rose up from the man whose face and arms were blackened with filth. His clothes, or what was left of them, were in tatters, and his face was so gaunt, he looked like a skeleton draped with a sock.

  “Tung, these are my friends.” Mari gestured to Alec and Ryne. “They’re here to help.”

  “Mari!” Tung pointed at her with a shaky finger. “Your body!”

  She smiled, running a hand down her side. “I got it back.”

  He blinked hard at her, then broke into a wide grin. “Eris gave it back to you?”

  She frowned. “No. Long story.”

  “Uncle Khashka?”

  Mari’s face fell, and she vehemently shook her head. “Carnivus.”

  Tung let out a low wail, so pitiful and heartbreaking, he sounded like a dying animal. He covered his face with his hands, sobbing.

  Alec and Dianna helped Mari kneel by her cousin.

  “Tung, listen to me.” Mari grabbed her cousin’s shoulder. “Eris is dead.”

  He peered at her between a crack in his grimy fingers. “Dead?”

  “Yes. Dianna killed her.” Mari smiled up at her. “She is a powerful witch. A good witch.”

  A vortex of emotions swirled in Tung’s eyes. “The sea witch is dead?”

  “Yes.” Mari smiled, smoothing a lock of Tung’s matted hair.

  “So she can’t harm you again?”

  “She can’t harm anyone ever again.” Mari’s voice shook with emotion. “Tung, listen. Dianna can restore your legs.”

  She backed up a step when Mari nodded to her.

  Tung gaped at Dianna. “You can do that?”

  She shrugged. “I will try.” Though she’d healed many injuries since she’d come into her powers, she had never had to heal a paralyzed man. She hoped she was up to the challenge. “Aletha, I need your help,” she whispered to her cousin, and the stone warmed inside her vest pocket. She knelt beside him, breathing through pinched nostrils; his odor was strong, a combination of mold and feces and Elements only knew what else.

  She splayed a hand across his bony knees, so frail and withered, they looked like twigs. Then she shut her eyes, letting her spirit drift between this world and the next, summoning her healing magic.

  She woke in Alec’s arms. She didn’t know how long she was out. “Did it work?”

  “See for yourself.” Alec nodded to Tung, who was being held up by Simeon and Ryne, both men scowling while turning up their noses.

  “I can feel my legs. I can feel them!” Tung’s bony legs shook like feeble, bare sapling branches in a blizzard. “I-I can’t walk. I don’t think my legs are strong enough.”

  “It’s okay,” Mari said as she patted the ground beside her. “I imagine you’ll be like me at first and have to learn how to use your legs again, but you will walk, Tung.”

  Ryne and Simeon deposited Tung beside Mari, releasing him and shaking their hands as if his stench had scalded their fingers.

  “I will walk again! I will.” Tung clasped his hands together, his bright, wet eyes standing out against his grimy skin. “Thank you, Dianna.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “You’re very welcome.” She turned to Alec, patting his arm. “I’m okay now.”

  Alec released her and went to Mari, kneeling beside her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “Tung, this is Alec, Dianna’s brother.” Mari looked at Alec with a look of pure adoration, as if the sun and moon revolved around him. “He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met. He and his friends are going to stay and help us for a while.”

  At that moment, Dianna realized she’d been a jealous fool to be envious of the connection Alec and Mari shared. To have a woman look upon her brother like that made her heart swell with joy.

  “I would be most grateful for the help.” Tung motioned to his grimy legs.

  Ryne and Simeon exchanged wary looks. ’Twas then Dianna realized they would probably rather fight to the death than share the task of bathing Tung.

  “I’m not staying,” Dianna said, “but I would be indebted to you if my brothers had a place live until my return.”

  “They are welcome here.” Tung thumbed at the crumbling home behind him. “Unfortunately, our home isn’t as comfortable as it once was. I’ve salvaged what I could and brought it to the barn. You are welcome to stay there with me.”

  She scowled at the barn, which didn’t appear to be in any better shape than the hut. Des and Alec wouldn’t be safe sleeping there. She thought they could make it back to the hold by nightfall if they hurried, but after King Furbald’s cold welcome, she didn’t think her family would be safe there either.

  Simeon walked a wide circle around Tung and held a hand down to Dianna. “Did you know my grandmother, Feira, could heal objects like she could heal people?” he said as he pulled her to her feet.

  “Really?” she asked, quickly stepping away from him and hating herself for acting like a spooked deer during a full moon. She had to keep her distance from Simeon if she wanted to retain her sanity.

  He nodded. “I once watched her fuse a broken table together with just one touch.”

  “Do you think I could do the same?”

  “Ask the stones.”

  She smiled when the stones instantly warmed her chest. Today she’d heal Mari’s home. Tomorrow, she’d journey to Ice Mountain.

  “DON’T EAT IT.” ARIETTE scowled at the basket of breads and cheeses and the bladders of water, delicious food Madhea could have kept for herself. “It may be poisoned.”

  Ungrateful child. She made Madhea’s decision to imprison her and her sisters all the more bearable. Children should honor and respect their mothers. Most of all, they must obey. Had the Elementals been good daughters, they would not be imprisoned now.

  Madhea’s wings angrily buzzed as she hovered above them. “Why would I need to poison you when I could simply starve you? I’ve decided I may need you to stay alive a bit longer.”

  Unable to withstand the censure in her daughters’ eyes, Madhea turned her attention to her painted fingernails, pleased by how much smoother and stronger they were today. Her magic was strengthening, and with it, her beauty was returning.

  Oh, Rowlen, I wish you’d survived to see me return to glory.

  “We will no longer do your bidding, Mother.”

  She scowled at Ariette, deciding for her sisters as if she was their goddess. “Not even if I agreed to spare your lives? Surely you do not speak for everyone, Ariette.” She scanned the faces of her other pretty children, disappointed and angry when they looked away.

  “What do you want of us?” Ariette snapped.

  “What did Markus tell you of the Ice People when he was here?”

  “Nothing,” Ariette answered flatly.

  She arched a brow. “Nothing? He did not tell you where they were hiding or how to reach them?”

  Ariette’s face hardened. “No.”

  Lying bitch. “Did he tell you how many stones they kept?”

  “No, and even if he did, I wouldn’t tell you.” Ariette folded her arms, tapping her foot while her wings buzzed like a swarm of angry hornets. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have murdered Jae. I’m sure Markus would’ve told her.”

  She narrowed her eyes at Ariette, heat flaming her face and chest as she spun and flew away, her daughters’ laughter echoing off the ice cave walls and burrowing into her heart like a thousand tiny needles. How dare they make a mockery of her! How dare they treat her so cruelly after she’d been kind enough to offer them food! Perhaps she should have poisoned her off
ering. Her daughters wouldn’t be laughing for long if they were clutching their throats and gasping for breath.

  A thought struck her. Perhaps she would poison them and leave them squirming on their backs until they agreed to sign a blood oath. If they did that, they could not defy her. Their magic would be hers to wield. Sparks crackled in her palms at the thought. She laughed all the way to her chamber.

  “WE’VE MADE GREAT PROGRESS today, don’t you think?” Markus dropped his hammer on the frozen ground and held a hand down to Jon, helping the older man to his feet.

  Jon stood with a groan, nodding to Ura, who was silently packing up her tools. “You should be enjoying your honeymoon, not building boats.”

  Markus looked away from Ura, unable to stare at his bride for too long. Every time he gazed at her, he was overwhelmed by the despair in her haunted expression, as if she knew she was looking at a dead man.

  He cursed. “How can I enjoy my honeymoon when a vindictive goddess threatens my family?”

  “What did you see in the mists, son?”

  Jon’s question sounded more like an accusation, startling Markus.

  “I-I told you,” he faltered, breaking eye contact. “Madhea in Ice Kingdom.”

  “What else did you see?” The older man grabbed Markus’s shoulder, desperately searching his face. “I fear you’re not telling me all of it. My daughter will not stop crying. She can’t even look at me when I speak to her.”

  He hung his head, a feeling of hopelessness washing over him. “I was at Madhea’s feet. I appeared dead.”

  “Oh,” Jon breathed, a strangled sob dying in his throat.

  He jerked his head up. Jon couldn’t break. He needed his father-in-law to stay strong for Ura’s sake. “Whatever happens, you need to make sure Ura gets on a boat.” He grasped the man, shaking hard. “Do you understand?”

  “She is strong-willed.” Jon flashed a watery smile. “Just like her mother was.”

  “I know.” Markus dropped his arms. He was determined to see his plan through, though it pained him to imagine Ura living a life without him. “One of the reasons I love her so. Don’t let that bitch kill her. Get her on a boat.”

 

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