Scorn of the Sky Goddess

by Tara West

  A whirlwind of thoughts spun through her head. “Since I don’t fancy you, I must fancy Ryne?”

  He stiffened but didn’t answer, swiping Ryne’s legs though the ants had already scattered and Tar was licking his master’s wounds clean.

  “Simeon, listen.” She knelt beside him, imploringly searching his golden gaze. “I don’t fancy any man.”

  Liar, Sindri said.

  Simeon’s mouth fell open. “Then you prefer women?”

  She refrained from rolling her eyes. Why must he insist she prefer anyone at all? Why couldn’t he accept she’d rather be alone? “I prefer no one. I will outlive anyone I might love. Do you want us to be like Feira and Tumi in three hundred years? Do you want me to spoon-feed you while slobber drips down your chin?” She abruptly stood, ignoring Tar’s protests, and turned her back to them, willing the tears to recede.

  “I am a strong witch, too, Dianna. I should outlive any mere mortal man.” Simeon stood behind her, his deep rumble a warm breath in her ear.

  How badly she wanted to lean into him. How badly she wanted to love him and be loved in return.

  Then do it, Neriphene admonished.

  Please stay out of this, cousins. This is hard enough without your interference.

  The stones’ only response was a pair of indignant sighs.

  “But can you say for certain you will outlive me?” she asked, then held her breath, dreading that she already knew the answer.

  “My grandfather lived for two hundred years. So did my uncle and cousins.”

  She searched his eyes. “And I will live for thousands of years.”

  He flashed a sad smile, wiping her face with the pad of his thumb. “Is two hundred years of happiness not enough to make loving me worthwhile?”

  How badly she relished the feel of his warm fingers on her skin. How she wanted to yield to him, like a reed bending toward a cool stream of water. “Not compared to centuries of depression and longing. I’m sorry, Simeon.” She sniffled, then sucked in a sharp breath. “We need to carry Ryne back before those ants colonize his ears.”

  Simeon turned from her with a curse, then slung Ryne over his broad shoulders with barely any effort, draping him like a fur around his neck.

  Did you think all those muscles were just for show? Sindri giggled.

  “Oh, do shut up,” Dianna hissed under her breath as she followed Simeon’s stiff gait and Tar’s wagging tail back to camp, feeling lower than she had in a long while. Two hundred years did seem like a long while, but not when compared to an eternity.

  “TELL US WHERE THE STONE is.” Chieftain Ingred’s thin upper lip twitched.

  Ura matched Ingred’s look with one of her own. “I can’t.” She was not to be deterred by that giant, awful woman or her angry mob, no matter how much Ura’s knees shook like runny soup.

  The chieftain’s lip curled back in a predatory snarl. “You can’t or you won’t? Because we have ways of making you talk.” Smirking, Ingred cast a glance at Markus as he slumped against his captors.

  His eyes were so swollen, they were practically sealed shut, his nose was bent to one side, and his lip was split open. Monsters. Her heart clenched as a low moan escaped his swollen lips. How could they’ve been so cruel to the one man who could save them from the ice witch? She feared she’d be next. The thought made her stomach churn, but if he could survive such a brutal beating, so could she.

  Jon stepped forward, placing his hand on Ura’s shoulder. “It’s in a place of safe keeping.”

  “Jon Nordlund,” Ingred said. “You are a part of this? I’m disappointed.”

  Jon’s gaze swept the mob before settling on the chieftain. “I’m disappointed that you won’t listen to my daughter’s and son-in-law’s warnings. When Madhea comes, do not ask for passage on our boats. We built them to escape her wrath.”

  “Don’t expect to be going anywhere, Jon,” Ingred said with a shrill laugh. “Neither will your children.”

  Rage boiled Ura’s blood. That stupid bloated fish would be the death of them all! “On what grounds?” she demanded. “Trying to save our kingdom? What a terrible offense!”

  “Come now.” Ingred clucked her tongue and wagged a finger. “I’m sure by now everyone realizes you and your land-dwelling husband are lying about Madhea’s attack simply to replace the stone he so foolishly gave his sister.”

  Ura wanted so badly to snap the chieftain’s finger in two, but she knew one of her burly guardians would stop her, no doubt relishing a chance to make Ura’s face match her husband’s.

  “I believe them.”

  Ura spun around as the crowd parted for the old prophet.

  He slowly moved forward, pulling himself along with his cane, like a slog traversing a wall of ice.

  “His sister will need all the stones if she’s to defeat Madhea,” Odu said between halting steps. “I have seen in the mists a great battle between them.”

  “Did Markus’s sister win?” Ura asked, feeling hopeful.

  The prophet frowned. “I did not see the outcome.”

  Ura’s gaze shot back to Markus to gauge his response. His head hung limply, and she feared he had lost consciousness or worse.

  “So you’re part of this, you crazy old man?”

  At that moment, Ura realized she loathed that woman more than anyone else on earth, even more than Madhea.

  “You forget those were my stones once.” Odu rested on his cane. “I gave them to your ancestors with the promise that should I ever need them, the Ice People would hand them over.”

  “Preposterous!” Ingred made a face, as if she’d just eaten spoiled serpents. “These stones belong to the Ice People now.”

  The prophet heaved a sigh. “Shall I show you the contracts signed by your ancestors? I still have them. It’s time I reclaimed my stones. They should go to Markus, and from him to his sister, if the Ice People wish to survive the coming calamity.”

  “Here, here,” Jon said, a confidence in his voice that Ura didn’t feel.

  “Guardians!” The chieftain pointed a long, crooked finger at Odu. “Arrest this old fool. Lock him up and take Jon and his children with him.”

  Ura grabbed the hilt of her blade as the guardians approached. They were no bigger than Markus, and her brother had taught her how to fight. She could take at least one of them down before they captured her.

  “Daughter,” Jon urged as he latched onto her wrist, shaking the blade from her grip, “do not fight them. There will be a trial, and we will plead our case. They have made a grave mistake in arresting Odu. The people will rally behind us.”

  Two guardians reached for Jon first, shoving his hands so hard against his back, Ura heard a snap, and he cried out.

  “You can’t do this!” Red hot anger blurred Ura’s vision.

  Ingred folded her arms, flashing a wicked grin. “I can and I will.”

  “On what grounds?” She fought her captors as the guardians latched onto her arms with brute force. There’d be bruising, but at least they’d spared her face, unlike what they’d done to her poor husband. “For reclaiming stones that are not rightfully yours?”

  “For theft and deception,” Ingred answered.

  “Listen to me, people of Ice Kingdom,” she yelled to the mob behind Markus. “There are only a few families who possess the stones. They seek to preserve their status. They don’t care about protecting you. Madhea will come, and we will all perish.”

  The crowd broke into a rustle of whispers. She swore as her captors dragged her away. Her heart plummeted when her father and the old prophet were handled roughly by the guardians. She wasn’t as optimistic as Jon about their trial, for the chieftain was determined to win no matter the cost.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dianna was amazed Borg was still awake, picking food out of his teeth after eating a hearty meal of flattened stag and drinking all of Zier’s “euphoria” tea.

  “It’s not working,” Simeon whispered in her ear.

  “Just
give it time,” she answered. “It will.” At least she hoped so.

  She knelt beside Ryne, who was sitting on a tree stump, head in his hands, looking dazed. She handed him a cup of black tea. “You need to be on your feet soon.” She nodded at the giant. “He’s drunk all the tea, and you don’t want to be flattened under him when he falls.”

  “Like any of you would care,” Ryne grumbled, frowning into his mug as if he was waking from a hangover.

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I mean it. You need to get up.”

  Ryne’s mutt obviously agreed. He stuck by his master’s side, his ears flat, eyeing the giant. Even the dog realized Borg was about to lose consciousness.

  Zier was already out of shadow’s length of the giant, hanging back behind a copse of trees, peeking around a trunk and whistling to the others.

  She wasn’t about to leave the blue broot, no matter how much he annoyed her.

  Borg knelt beside them, his big face looking no more droopy than usual, his hot breath no less rancid. He held out a hand. “Fwiends no want Borg to carry?”

  “No, Borg. We’re not ready to leave yet. Why don’t you sit, so I can check your foot?”

  He shook his head. “Foot all better.”

  “Still, I’d prefer you let me look at it, just in case.”

  He fell on his rump so hard, she stumbled into Simeon. She quickly pulled away and smoothed her vest, as if she was trying to rid her body of the feel of his hands around her waist. Ryne, who’d spilled hot tea down his trousers, swore mightily while Tar barked.

  “You damn clumsy slog!” Ryne yelled.

  “Sorry, fwiend.” The giant pouted. “Borg tired.” He yawned, then rubbed his eyes.

  The giant fell over in slow motion.

  “Look out, Ryne!” she hollered as Simeon hauled her out of the way.

  Ryne scrambled to his feet and raced away, his dog at his heels, seconds before the giant’s head hit the ground beside them.

  Borg was flat on his back, his mouth hanging open. He let out several blubbery snorts before falling into a rhythmic snore, whistling through his nose and wheezing through his mouth, filling the clearing with the stench of his rotten breath.

  Ryne backed up several steps, then broke into laughter, slapping his knees and wiping watery eyes.

  “I don’t see what’s so funny,” she said.

  He looked her over with a sneer. “So none of you laughed when I fell over?”

  She turned her back on him, refusing to answer, and shared a secret smile with Simeon.

  Zier handed each of them several flower stems tied together with twine. “Attach these to your waists.”

  She recognized the flowers, smiling as the sparkling fairy dust fell on her boots.

  Ryne made a face. “They smell disgusting.”

  “I think they smell quite nice.” An odd thought struck her. She wondered why Simeon thought she’d favored Ryne over him. Though she knew Ryne had a lot on his mind, so did she, and she didn’t complain half as much. He was perpetually brooding, as if a shadow had been cast over his heart. She wondered if he knew how bothersome he was to others. He wasn’t like Simeon in the slightest, whose cheerful nature always boosted her spirits, even if she was loath to admit it.

  Zier handed another bouquet to Ryne. “For the dog.”

  The ice dweller tied them around Tar’s neck. “Sorry, boy.” He scratched the pup behind the ears.

  Ryne was kind to his dog. He deserved some respect for that. Not much, but some.

  “Let’s get a move on.” Zier nodded to the sleeping giant. “Before he wakes and finds us.”

  “Elements save us if he does,” she mumbled, casting one last glance at Borg. She felt bad for leaving him and hoped nothing happened to him in their absence. Then she tried again to reach the dragons through thought. Tan’yi’na. Lydra. Are you there? Again, she was met with silence.

  AS URA WAS LED INTO a chamber, she took note of two things. First, this wasn’t where the Council normally met. She recognized it as their private chamber. She’d seen it once when accompanying her father on an errand. It was small, with only room for about a dozen witnesses, none of them having friendly faces. None of Odu’s followers and boat builders were there, though she had seen them lining the hall on the way to the chamber, their faces masks of worry.

  She cast a worried glance at Markus, her father Jon, and Odu, who were roughly dragged in behind her. Why did their captors feel the need to be so abusive? Markus was hardly conscious, Odu didn’t even appear to be alive, and Jon didn’t put up a fight either.

  Ingred was sitting on a makeshift throne, no other Council members by her side, which was odd and did not bode well for them. “Are you prepared to tell us where the stone is?”

  Ura matched the chieftain’s hard stare with one of her own.

  She fought to keep her voice from trembling. “Only if you agree to free us and let Markus use the stone to defeat Madhea.”

  “Foolish child.” Ingred snickered. “My guardians will find the stone without your help, and when they do, you shall regret your decision, for I was prepared to offer you leniency. Outing is too good for this land dweller.” She turned her beady eyes on Markus. “He will be sentenced to a slow death, along with Jon and Odu.”

  Her knees weakened. Had it not been for the guardians gripping her arms, she would’ve fallen to the ground. She would survive the outing, for she was determined, but her husband and her father were to die a slow death!

  “And should any of the crazy old fool’s cult object,” Ingred continued, “they shall be imprisoned beside him. Ura will be outed.”

  “This is not a proper trial!” Jon broke free of the guardians holding him. “We deserve a chance to speak.”

  Ingred’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Your daughter was given a chance, and she failed to cooperate.”

  Jon’s guardians reached for him, but he fought them off. “This is an outrage and goes against our rules of order,” he hollered as his two burly captors pushed him, pressing his face against the ice. Jon cried out in pain as one of them twisted his arm behind his back.

  “No!” Ura screamed, thrashing against her captors’ grip even as they dug their claws into her arms. She turned to Ingred, tears streaming down her face. “How could you?”

  Ingred glared at her. “I am chieftain. I make the rules.”

  “You are no chieftain.” She spit at Ingred’s feet. “You are a tyrant! No better than Madhea.”

  Odu loudly coughed, hacking and clearing his throat as if he was about to vomit. Rather than help him, his guardians released him.

  The prophet looked at Ingred, clutching his chest. “I will speak, even if you won’t listen. You are making a mistake.” He waved feebly at Ura. “She is trying to save the Ice People from Madhea’s wrath.”

  “Oh, really?” Ingred let out a cackling laugh. “I sent my guardians to find these contracts you said the Ice People signed, regarding the stones. They found nothing.”

  Odu shook his head, his long white beard nearly scraping the ground. “Or else you told them to destroy them.”

  “Now why would we do such a dishonest thing?” A wicked grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “We are not thieves, like your land dweller.” She leaned forward, eyeing him intently. “Tell me, have you seen Madhea’s attack on our people in the mists as well?”

  He gripped the ball of his cane with white knuckles. “I haven’t, but I told you I saw her fighting Markus’s sister.”

  She leaned back, her smug smile growing wider. “Then all we have to go by is the word of three thieves and one crazy old man.”

  Odu swayed like a reed in the breeze. “The mists don’t need to show me. I know it in my heart to be true. Madhea will come, and we have no hope of defeating her without Markus and those stones.”

  “The ice witch doesn’t know we are here.” Ingred dismissed his concern with an indignant snort. “But should she attack, we have hunters.”

  “None with
an aim like Markus,” Ura said. “His arrows always strike true.”

  Ingred’s serpentine stare focused on her. “Yet he was unable to defeat her when he scaled her mountain.”

  Markus lifted his head, spitting a wad of blood on the ground and moaning. He was trying to speak, but Ura knew it was impossible with a swollen face. Her heart clenched, for she feared her husband would die from his injuries.

  “I vill stike her dis time,” Markus mumbled. “Pwomise.”

  “Take the prisoners away.” Ingred swatted the air as if she was shooing away a nest of buzzing mites. “Prepare Ura for her outing tomorrow morn.”

  “No!” she cried, feeling as if the very foundation was crumbling, and she was falling into an abyss. How had it come to this? They were trying to save the Ice People, and now the kingdom would perish, thanks to one ignorant tyrant. “Markus! Father!” she screamed as they were roughly carted away.

  Her captors hauled her away, gripping her arms so tight, she feared her bones would snap. Markus cast a glance over his shoulder, blood dripping down his nose and into his mouth. “Vind Dianna.”

  “I will, husband,” she cried. “I will!”

  DIANNA WAS EXHAUSTED from running through the forest all day, but they were rewarded with a break in the trees opening onto a vast grassy field. Even though twilight was upon them, Madhea’s mountain loomed in the distance. To the west was the Empire of Shadows. It appeared to have once been a vast city, though the wall surrounding it had crumbled in several places, and the great structures in the center of the town had toppled onto their sides. Even as she stared at the ruins from a distance, a shiver coursed through her. The place appeared haunted.

  An icy wind blew from the north, smacking her exposed face. Though she was impervious to the Elements, she understood the ominous portent of such a shift in the weather. It was still early summer. It should not have been so cold.

  Beside her, Simeon shivered.

  “Is the stone not working?” she asked.