Of Silver and Beasts (Goddess Wars 1)

He extends his hand to deliver another blow, blue crackling from his fingertips, and I kick back just as the blast hits the ground. Rolling to the side, I escape another attack, and jump to my feet.

He’s still human. I swing my sword and slice his arm. He shouts and turns his glowing eyes on me. His chest rises and falls as he chants something, and the mercury around me bubbles into a frenzied boil.

It reaches silver tentacles toward me and latches on to my calves. Fire scorches my skin where it touches and I cry out. It burns through my pants, slithering its sterling feelers up my legs. I struggle to free myself as Caben steps closer.

“Tell me where the shard is, and I’ll make you one of mine. I’ll spare you a painful death, Kal.”

Groaning, I slash my blade at the silver coils and free myself. Then I meet Caben’s blazing eyes. “I won’t be your minion, Bale.”

He laughs. “Bale is here . . . within me—I feel her. But it’s Caben who speaks to you, Kal.” My heart pangs as his eyes flick over me. “I’ve just been released of the binds that imprisoned me. This is the truth of my nature, of all human nature. Freed, and without the oppressive control of the deities.” He sneers.

“You’re lying.” And he—she is. I tilt my head, trying to search out Bale behind Caben’s features. These are her words, not his. I continue to tell myself this as I raise my sword higher.

“Am I?” he asks. “Seek the truth, and then kill me if you must. It makes no difference. Bale has been summoned. She will find another willing vessel.”

Another lie. The ritual is over. The pale gleam of the moon shines down on the mercury-covered ring, its light reflecting against the shiny surface.

Goddesses, give me discernment.

I draw the sword back and thrust it toward Caben’s chest—

And stop.

My blade an inch from his pulsing jugular.

He doesn’t try to stop me. Doesn’t defend himself. His eyes stay steady on my face. “You know the truth.”

I scream and twist around, nailing Caben over the head with the hilt of my sword. He falls to the ground, the mercury splashes over his body. I kneel next to him and run my fingers over his smooth face, his lips.

“I’ll find a way to save you,” I whisper. Then I run.

The Cury-craft hovers to a stop before the gatehouse of King Dallion’s Palace.

Bax’s father, the once dark priest, and the other members of our escaped convoy, follow behind us in another Cury. We’re to report to the king of Laryn and the Cavan Council for evaluation before the others can return to their homelands.

Bax leans over his seat and takes my hand. “You will live to regret your decision, protector,” he says. “But I will stand by you when the time comes.”

A tear slips down my cheek and I harshly wipe it away. I squeeze Bax’s hand, then push myself down in my seat. “What would you have done if it were one of them?” I nod toward his wife. Her hair is wrapped into a braided bun, her pale features smoothed out as she sleeps, their baby son cradled against her chest in a sling.

Bax’s features harden. “That’s a scenario I don’t have to consider. We must move past this and focus on what needs to be done now.”

I nod. “Of course, Bax. Always such a brute.”

He growls, and a smile sneaks onto my face. “Your will is stubborn, protector.” He smiles. “I’ve liked this about you from the start.”

He sits back, and my thoughts consume me.

What needs to be done now.

I don’t know what that is.

I plan to try healing Bax and his family as I did his father. Bale has had centuries to infest the Otherworlders with her dark power, and I’m not sure if I can summon that strange light that I used in the Cage again. I couldn’t for Caben. My heart constricts. That power feels so distant—as if I imagined it.

But I’m going to try.

When Alyah spoke to me, she said it was my power. This knowledge excites me almost as much as it scares me. I need to speak with Empress Iana. I feel she is the only one who can answer my questions.

I look down at the mercury swirling against my skin. What happened with the priest has also given me hope that I can correct the damage I inflicted on my own father. I don’t understand how something that was gifted to me from a goddess can both cause harm and heal. There’s much I have to learn about myself, but at least now, I’m not trying to hide it. I’m going to embrace this gift or curse fully, and discover what it could mean.