A Battle of Blood and Stone (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 4)

Carrick couldn’t ignore that. The gods had been very vague on what part Finley will play in the prophecy, and Arwen had only vaguely said she’d bear great sacrifice. It all sounded ominous, but Carrick had been lulled into believing that vanquishing Kymaris would be a group effort. This was the first time anyone said that the battle would be between Finley and Kymaris alone, and it terrified him.

“Ahh,” Rune murmurs with a sly grin. “I see I have your attention now.”

“You’re saying Finley will fight Kymaris?” Carrick asked for clarification.

“I’m saying only Finley can stop her,” Rune replied with a careless shrug. “How you interpret that is up to you.”

It was clear Rune wasn’t going to offer anything clearer than that, but Carrick was grateful for that information. It meant he had a lot of work ahead of him to get Finley ready for this. Time was running short, and she still hadn’t figured out how to use her powers.

Carrick turned away from Rune. When he reached his cell, he grabbed onto the metal bars and pulled the swinging door open. He intended to enter, lay down, face the wall, and give Rune his back, which he knew would infuriate the god.

Instead, a crack of thunder rent the air, causing Carrick to wheel around to face whatever wrath Rune was going to level at him. Carrick came to a halt in a semi-crouched fighting stance.

But Rune was still on the chaise, his eyes wide with astonishment as he took in Onyx in full battle armor. The god of War was a beautiful vision despite the warrior vibe she radiated. Like Rune, she wore her magenta-pink hair in a mohawk, but it was much longer and stood in a flowing wave from her crown to the back of her neck.

She glared at Rune, merely spitting out one word, “Enough.”

Rune pushed up from the chaise, giving his fellow god an incredulous look. “Enough?”

“Yes,” Onyx replied. “You’ve had enough fun with Carrick, and we let you have it. But enough is enough. We allowed him to take part in this prophecy so he could have the chance to ascend. It was a deal that was made, so he must be given that opportunity.”

“You can’t tell me when enough is enough,” Rune sneered. He was the one always at odds with his brethren—the most spoiled, the most entitled, and simply the biggest asshole.

Given Rune could kill Carrick with a mere snap of his fingers, it was certainly foolish for Carrick to enter the discussion. “Why such animosity, Rune? Why isn’t your curse enough?”

Rune turned from Onyx to face Carrick, rage morphing his face into a hideous mask. “Because I don’t like seeing you happy. You deserve every bad thing that could ever happen to you.”

And with that, Carrick tipped his head back and laughed deep from his belly. When he brought his gaze back to Rune, he shook his head in pity. “Get the fuck over it. It’s been centuries, you candy-assed priss pot. For fuck’s sake, I didn’t even mope this way when you killed Finley over and over again.”

Which was a lie. Every time Finley died in her past lives, Carrick was devastated, but he would never let Rune know that.

“Another thirty lashes,” Rune barked at the jailer.

“No,” Onyx murmured, but her tone was as hard as steel. “Collectively, the rest of your brothers and sisters demand he be released. He’s had enough.”

She was talking about the three other gods in addition to her. Circe, the god of Fate, Veda, the god of Humanity, and Cato, the god of Nature. They operated simply by majority rules for most things, unanimity required for the important ones like Ascension.

Rune was livid over this proclamation, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t strong enough to fight them on this, and they would fight him if he didn’t come back into line.

“Fine,” Rune snarled, giving a rolling wave of his hand above his head. The chaise, food, bathtub, and women disappeared, as did the masked jailer. “I’ve got better things to do anyway.”

And with that, he vanished.

“Such an asshole,” Onyx murmured under her breath as she walked over to Carrick. Before he could even thank her, she had him by the wrist and flashing out of this faux Hell of a place.

In a blink, they stood in what appeared to be a massively opulent foyer of what Carrick would peg as an Italian villa. He assumed Onyx owned it.

“I need to get to Finley,” was the first thing Carrick said.

“Agreed,” Onyx said as she lifted her chin toward the spiral staircase. “But you stink of more things than I can even describe, and your wounds need to heal. Finley does not need to see you this way, so go get bathed and you can return to her.”