Scorn of the Sky Goddess

by Tara West

  “I will, son.” Jon stepped back, casting one more forlorn look at Ura. “I will.”

  “Thank you.” He barely choked out the words before brushing past Jon to kneel beside Ura.

  They finished packing her things, then Markus slung the bag over his shoulder and held her hand while they trudged toward the tunnel that would lead them home. They followed Jon, who held the party’s lone torch. The only sound in the dark, winding tunnel was of boot spikes crunching ice. A shiver coursed down Markus’s spine, and it wasn’t due to the cold. It was because of the overwhelming feeling that they might one day be nothing more than a gathering of ghosts.

  DIANNA WOKE SLOWLY, stretching after a much-needed nap. She’d been tired after spending all afternoon restoring Mari’s broken home, but now the task was finished, and Mari was left with a comfortable three-room hut, a barn, and a chicken coop. She even had ten hens, thanks to Zier, who’d generously traded his goods for the birds after a visit to Aloa-Shay. He’d also given her pots, pans, and other household goods that had gone missing, no doubt stolen by Eris’s soldiers when they’d first raided the farm.

  The room was dark, save for a candle beside her narrow cot. Looking out the window, she spied a bright moon and a smoky campfire. Zier and Ryne sat beside the fire, bent over a map, while Simeon hovered nearby. A pang of guilt stabbed her chest when she thought about leaving Simeon behind, but he’d left her no choice. He would not survive the frigid weather.

  We were warming stones for three hundred years, Dianna, Sindri’s voice echoed in her head. We can warm your mate for a few weeks.

  She stepped away from the window. “Simeon is not my mate.”

  Not yet, Aletha said and giggled.

  “You want me to let him hold the goddess stones for the journey?” What if they encountered dangerous monsters, and she needed the stones to fight them off?

  He only needs one of us, Neriphene said.

  “Which one of you will do it?”

  He can rotate us, Sindri answered. Make sure he hangs us on that broad chest of his, she said wryly.

  Heat infused her face. The stones had been listening to her thoughts earlier, when she was admiring his shirtless chest. How embarrassing. “Stay out of my head, will you?”

  I’m sorry, cousin. Sindri laughed. The life of a stone is a boring one. We must have something to gossip about.

  She refrained from rolling her eyes and looked out the window again. “Simeon can’t come. I’m not putting up with him and Ryne fighting the whole way.”

  Simeon has powerful charms, Aletha admonished. You never know when you may need him.

  She quickly shut the curtain when Simeon caught her watching him. He homed in on her like a wolf, stalking its prey. “That’s what I’m most afraid of.”

  ONCE AGAIN, DIANNA found herself crowded by Ryne and Simeon as she studied the map with Zier. She couldn’t have a moment’s peace without them swarming her.

  “If we cut through this way, the route is faster.” Zier stabbed the map with a stubby finger. “It may be more dangerous though.”

  “I don’t care. We’re running out of time.” Ryne rubbed his chin, the fire highlighting the lines around his eyes and making him look far older. Though he’d told Dianna he was only two and twenty winters, she could hardly believe it.

  “Borg carry fwiends. Borg make us go faster.”

  She looked up at Borg, who sat with his legs wrapped around Mari’s hut. He was so close to the thatched roof, she feared he’d fall over and crush it and the occupants inside. Des and the dogs had already gone to bed, and she didn’t feel comfortable with a giant hanging over her brother.

  Alec must have felt unease as well, because he’d already asked Borg several times to move back. “Borg.” Alec cleared his throat, then waved at the giant as if shooing a dog. “Your legs.”

  Borg frowned down at the hut. “Oh, sorry, fwiend.”

  When he scooted back, she cringed as he pulled off a few wooden planks with the heel of one foot.

  “Over there, Borg.” She nodded to the other side of the yard, where Tung had planted a modest garden. She’d rather have crushed roots than crushed skulls.

  Once the giant was settled, flattening a section of wooden fence with his behind, she knew it was time to make sure Borg knew he couldn’t follow them to Adolan. “Borg,” she said with a frozen smile, doing her best to keep her composure, “I’ve already explained that you can’t come with us.”

  He frowned, stabbing the earth with a broken piece of fence. “But Da will be mad.”

  “No, he won’t,” she said. “I’m confident he only wanted you to follow us to Aloa-Shay.”

  “Da no say only Oh-Shay.” The giant crossed his arms, the folds of his forehead meshing in an angry V. “Da say follow. Borg follow.”

  “Well, I guess that settles it.” She shared knowing looks with Ryne and Zier. “Don’t sleep too soundly.”

  “Believe me.” Ryne scowled at Borg. “I won’t.”

  When Borg had gone to relieve himself, they’d conferred privately. If the giant refused to stay behind, they’d sneak away from camp in the middle of the night, while he was asleep.

  “Tung.” Dianna decided to change the subject so as not to arouse Borg’s suspicion. “You never told us how you survived all this time.”

  He stretched beside the campfire, one scrawny leg pressed against the other. “I’ve been subsisting on riverweed and berries I could reach, plus the roots in the garden.”

  “Now that Zier has given us a net,” Alec said, puffing up his chest, “we shall feast on salamin.”

  “I can hardly believe our good fortune, cousin.” Tung leaned into Mari, covering her small hand with his. “I wish Uncle Khashka was here to see it.”

  Mari turned her hand over in Tung’s grip. “He may be watching us even now, Tung. You never know.”

  “Borg no wike ghost talk.” The giant wrapped his arms around his waist and scanned the dark jungle with wide eyes. “Borg scared of ghosts.”

  Ironic, because Borg was probably the scariest thing south of Werewood Forest.

  Mari shook her head. “My father would never hurt you, Borg.”

  The giant’s lip hung down, making him look like a temperamental toddler. “Da hurt Borg.” Borg’s hand flew to the welt by his ear. “Da hit Borg many time.”

  Alec narrowed his eyes at the giant. “Why do you let your father treat you that way? You’re bigger than him.”

  Dianna sucked in a sharp breath. The last thing she needed was to spawn a revolt among the giants. The dwarves would never forgive her.

  Zier cleared his throat, issuing Alec a challenging look. “Methinks we need to change the subject.”

  “I agree,” Dianna added.

  Borg leaned over and grabbed a palma pod hanging in a nearby tree. She hoped he was careful with the fruit. One pod was as heavy as three men and could easily be a weapon in a giant’s hands.

  He snapped the trunk in half as he jerked the pod from its branches. “You no understand what having mean da like.”

  “My father beat me almost every single day, from the time I was a toddler until the day he died.” Alec struck his chest like he was pounding a drum. “So don’t tell me I don’t understand.”

  Borg’s eyes widened. “You da beat you?”

  “Your flesh was always covered in cuts and bruises,” she admitted, knowing they needed to change the subject even as demons from the past threatened to resurface. “Always.” She frowned. “You hid beneath your cloak.”

  Alec chuckled softly. “I thought I was hiding it well until the night you confronted him.”

  Oh how she wished she could forget that night. When she’d pulled back Alec’s cloak, she’d expected to find a new cut or bruise, but he looked like he had the plague. Alec’s father, whom she later realized was also her father, had been cursed by Madhea, forced to hate his son through dark magic.

  “You confronted him?” Simeon asked. “What happened?”
/>   “She called him a monster,” Alec answered. “The whole village witnessed it and they turned against him.”

  “He sounds like a monster,” Ryne said as he poked the fire with a stick. “No wonder your brother was so troubled when he came to us.”

  “He didn’t mean to.” She stared into the fire, feeling shame for hating her father so. They’d never exchanged kind words, and now he was dead. “He was cursed by Madhea.” One more reason why the Sky Goddess needed to be killed. She’d destroyed too many lives with her vindictiveness.

  “My da no cursed.” Borg crushed the palma pod between his meaty fingers, splattering juice all over his arm. “My da just mean.”

  She cringed. “I’m sorry, Borg.” So much for the fruit. It would have sustained her brothers for weeks.

  “How you da die?” Borg asked Alec.

  She glared at Alec. Don’t give him any ideas, she thought, hoping her look conveyed the message.

  “A knife to the back,” Alec answered evenly.

  Ugh. Dianna wanted to reach across the fire and smack her brother upside the head.

  Borg’s mouth dropped open. “Who stab you da in back?”

  “Me.” Alec hung his head, a solitary tear slipping down his face.

  “Oh, Alec,” she whispered, “you shouldn’t have told him that.” But when she saw realization dawn in the giant’s eyes, like clouds parting after a storm, she feared it was already too late.

  Chapter Eight

  Dianna sat up, tossing her legs over the narrow bed she’d shared with Mari. She was still fast asleep, so Dianna quietly tiptoed out of the hut, and relieved and cleaned herself by a narrow stream that ran close to the property. Though the day had been warm in Aloa-Shay, the night was cool. She wondered if that was typical for the seaside village or if Madhea’s frost had reached them.

  When she returned, she was glad to see Zier and Ryne awake and dressed for travel. The sky was still dark, and the moon hung low in the sky. It would be several hours until dawn. By then they should be far enough away from Borg if they made haste.

  Dianna scowled at Simeon when he came out of the hut wearing furs and carrying his pack. Before she could argue, he held a finger to his full lips, then nodded to Borg, who was lying on his back, loudly snoring.

  The tricky broot. She knew what he was about. As quietly as she could, she stormed back inside, jarring Simeon’s shoulder on the way.

  Alec and Des were curled up together with the mutt Brendle on a pallet beside the hearth. It was no soft bed, but it would have to do. She shook them awake, ignoring the dog’s whimpers, then placed a finger to her lips as her brothers opened their eyes.

  Des let out a groggy yawn and stretched, looking at her with innocent, wide eyes. “Are you leaving me, sister?”

  “Yes.” She kissed his forehead. “But I shall return, sweet brother.”

  Fear shone in his wide eyes. “You promise?”

  She cupped his cheek. “I will do everything in my power to come back to you.”

  “What if everything isn’t enough?” His voice trembled with watery emotion.

  “Look into your heart.” She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the strong pounding beneath. “What does your heart tell you?”

  His mouth hitched up in an impish grin. “That you will return to me.”

  “Then I shall. Be good for Alec.” She kissed him again, nuzzling his cheek and wishing she could pack his scent—a mixture of dirt, sweat, and sticky palma fruit—with her. “I love you.”

  She turned to her other brother. “Thank you for staying.”

  Alec scowled. “I didn’t have much choice, did I?”

  “Please be safe,” she begged, reaching for his hand.

  Their fingers entwined. “I will, sister.”

  She sucked in a steadying breath, jumped to her feet, and strode out before the tears that pricked the backs of her eyes escaped. She would miss her brothers, but she had to leave for their sakes.

  She passed Simeon, who was warming his hands by the fire, and found Ryne with his tail-wagging dog and Zier, standing in the shadow of the barn’s thatched roof. “Let’s go.”

  Ryne looked over her shoulder. “He’s not coming.”

  She didn’t need to turn around to know Simeon had followed. She could practically feel his warm, broad shoulders hogging up her personal space.

  She looked at him pleadingly. “Simeon, please don’t make this any harder on me.”

  “I won’t,” he answered with little inflection in his deep voice. “I’m coming with you, and there’s to be no argument.”

  His golden eyes shone beneath the starlight, dazzling her like twin suns. When she leaned into him like a reed bending in the breeze, fighting the urge to place a hand on his heart, she knew he was using his persuasive magic on her.

  “Damn you, Simeon,” she hissed, then spun on her heel and marched toward the jungle.

  She followed Zier who’d already started down the path at a fast pace for one without long legs. His pots and pans, which had been wrapped in furs, made no sound. He looked like an upright bear from behind.

  “I can’t believe you capitulated so easily,” Ryne scolded at her back.

  “Shut up,” she growled over her shoulder, in no mood to argue.

  “I’m not carrying him when his toes freeze off,” he grumbled.

  She whipped around so fast, Ryne backed up with a start, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. She slipped a stone out of her pocket, marched up to Simeon, and slapped it in his palms. “If you lose this, you will not be able to charm your way out of me whipping your arse.”

  Simeon pocketed the stone with a wink. “Thanks. It’s warming me already.”

  Ryne scowled. “Usually you have to ask the stones to warm you.”

  “Girls don’t wait for Simeon to ask when he needs a favor,” she grumbled, then turned and hurried to catch up with Zier, ignoring the irritating laughter of her two remaining stones.

  “DAUGHTER. WHAT ARE you doing here? It is late, and you should be honeymooning with your husband.”

  Ura looked at her father through a foggy gaze. “I couldn’t sleep.” She wished she could enjoy a peaceful slumber in her husband’s arms. Instead, she found herself in a dark kraehn cavern, staring bleakly into a hole carved in the ice, watching the demon fishes’ fanged, gaping maws as they sucked at the air, waiting for Ura to throw them her waste.

  “You look tired.” He father laid a soothing hand on her shoulder. “You should not be around kraehn. It is dangerous.”

  She turned into her father, wishing so much his strong embrace would bring her comfort, as it had done so many times when she was a child. “I know.”

  He rocked her, kissing the top of her head. “Do you have a death wish, child?”

  She stifled a sob, resting her forehead against the soft furs of his vest. “Not yet.” But if what she saw in the mists came to pass, she’d no wish to live on this earth without her husband.

  Her father coursed a hand through her hair, just like he used to do when she waked from a nightmare. “Markus asked me to make sure you get on a boat when the time comes.”

  “I’m not leaving without him.” Her heartbeat quickened. How could they expect her to abandon her husband?

  “I was afraid of that. And what of me? What of Ryne?” His eyes shone in the darkness like two iridescent pools. “Have you not thought of our broken hearts if something were to happen to you?”

  She had to bite down on her knuckles to keep from crying out. “I think of nothing else but our broken hearts.”

  Unable to stand the sadness in his eyes, she jerked out of his embrace. She needed to flee but didn’t know where to go. She shrieked when she slipped and almost fell face-first into a kraehn hole, then gasped when she was rescued by her father.

  “Careful, daughter.” He deposited her on a bench beside the cavern wall. “You were almost kraehn bait.”

  She sat down, head in her hands. He stroked her back as
she struggled to breathe. Her mind had been so muddled with grief, she hadn’t realized she’d almost fallen into a trap.

  An idea struck her. A trap!

  “That’s it!” She shot up from her seat, thrusting a fist in the air.

  Jon quickly stood, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. No doubt he didn’t trust her not to slip again. “What is it, daughter?”

  “All this time we’ve waited for Madhea’s attack, like bait caught in a kraehn hole,” she said, words eagerly tripping off her tongue. “What if we were to bait her? What if in the vision I saw of Markus, he wasn’t dead but bait for a trap?”

  One of his silvery brows arched. “You think you can ensnare a powerful goddess?”

  “Yes, yes.” Ura rubbed her hands together as the wheels in her mind turned. “I think we can.”

  “How will you go about doing that?”

  “Markus is a mighty hunter,” she said. “I think I know of a way. Come, Father!” She raced out of the cavern toward the small ice cave she and her husband shared with him. Though she knew he was sound asleep, she had to wake him. They needed to put their plan in motion before the ice witch found them.

  DIANNA’S FEET WERE sore and her legs were cramping, but she dared not slow down. Dawn was breaking, and they had to put more distance between themselves and Borg. They decided to take an alternate route, one that was slightly longer and more treacherous, with too many overgrown bushes and loose rocks along the old path. The trees were so tall and thick in some spots, they could hardly see where they were stepping. Dianna hoped the overgrown vegetation would throw Borg off their trail.

  Thank goodness for Zier and his big blade. He led the line, deftly clearing a path so that most of the branches didn’t slash Dianna’s arms. Still, enough of them got her that her clothes had several tears, as if she’d been beaten by a slaver’s whip. Simeon’s arms were even worse. He scraped most of the limbs with his wide shoulders, cutting his protective furs to shreds. Ryne also had his fair share of cuts. Their furs and arms would be in tatters by the time they left the forest. Even Tar yelped a time or two.