Fate of the Gods 01 - Forged by Fate

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Fate of the Gods 01 - Forged by Fate Page 13

by Amalia T. Dillin


  “Which is it, Garrit?” Eve asked. Didn’t he realize how closely Mia skated around the truth? And if she did find out, through some carelessness of Jean’s or even their own, it would only make it all a bigger mess. “A guest or a sister?”

  His jaw tightened. “A sister who is staying with us as a guest. If she wants to help, she’s more than welcome, but as she’s never been here, it is only natural her first priority should be to enjoy the activities we have to offer.”

  Mia rolled her eyes. “God, Abby. You’ve been so on edge. I thought marriage was supposed to mellow a woman.”

  Garrit pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mia, why don’t you find Jean? I’m sure he’ll be happy to get an early start. The traffic can be terrible, midday.”

  “Oh, fine. Not like I want to sit here in the middle of your first fight anyway.” She stood up and flashed a smile. “Enjoy making up.”

  Eve watched her leave the room, half tempted to cancel Mia’s plans for her. The fact that Garrit found her just as aggravating was almost gratifying—or would have been if she hadn’t forced him into accepting Mia’s presence in their home during what should have been their honeymoon. She sat down again and hid her face in her hands.

  “Abby.” Garrit pulled her hands gently away. “She’s right, you know. You have been terribly tense. Is it the family? I can send them away. Put them up elsewhere.”

  “No, it’s not the family. The family is wonderful. Everyone who doesn’t know who I am has already decamped, and the rest really do try to make themselves scarce.”

  “You can’t let her get to you. She really doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

  Eve shook her head. “That’s exactly the kind of justification my mother would have used.”

  “And we all know she’s spoiled. But no one expects you to step in as her parent. You’re her sister. You don’t need to police her. Let her enjoy herself until she’s bored with Jean, and she’ll return home.”

  She took his hands in hers and stared at them for a long moment, trying to decide how best to phrase what she wanted to say. “Do you know why I married Lord Ryam, Garrit? Centuries ago?”

  He shrugged and squeezed her hands in his. “You couldn’t resist the DeLeon charm.”

  She smiled. “Partly true, of course. But not the whole truth.”

  “His journal says you were in some kind of trouble. Bringing you to the country was meant to keep you safe.”

  She nodded, searching his face now. Ryam evidently hadn’t shared the details of this particular drama. Small favors.

  “I had a sister. She was my best friend in the world. We told each other everything.”

  He frowned. “As is the way of sisters the world over.”

  “I told her everything, Garrit. Because I loved her so much. Because we were so close. I thought she would understand. That she would see how much I loved her. I had told others in the past. A husband here or there. People I could trust. And I wanted so much to be able to trust my sister. My Aimee. I couldn’t believe she would betray me.”

  His expression was full of sorrow, and he reached out to brush her hair behind her ear. “She’s the reason Ryam had to whisk you away?”

  Eve swallowed around the tightness in her throat at the memory. It had been a very near thing. A day later, and Ryam would have been too late. As it was, they had been forced to leave in the middle of the night, slinking out of the city like rats. “She used me, used everything I’d told her to turn me into her scapegoat. Not because she thought I was evil, but because she thought it would make our father love her. Because she thought he would forgive her, if he hated me.”

  “Mia isn’t Aimee.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t risk it. I don’t want to lose another sister.”

  He caressed her cheek. “Je suis désolé, Abby. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been.”

  “It brought me home. It brought me Ryam.” She forced a smile so he wouldn’t think she was still agonizing over that part of her past. It didn’t fool anyone.

  “If having Mia here under these circumstances is causing you distress, I’ll send her away with Oncle Ryan and Jean. She can hardly complain about it if the reason she’s staying goes with her. Tante Clair would love to have her. We could offer it to her as an opportunity to see Paris.”

  “I feel badly saddling your poor aunt and uncle with Mia.”

  “Abby, she’s a very biddable girl as long as you don’t expect her to be on time to anything. Clair has complained for years that Oncle Ryan never gave her a daughter.”

  “And Jean?”

  “Jean will be happy for an excuse to return to what he refers to as the ‘real’ city.”

  Eve looked out the window. Mia and Jean were just climbing into a car for the drive into town. They were laughing at something together. “Perhaps if Juliette suggests it, Mia will be more willing.”

  “I’ve never met a woman who could turn down an all-expense-paid trip to Paris.” He squeezed her hand and then stood up, taking an orange from the fruit bowl with him. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

  It would be nice to have a few less people in the house, and a bit more privacy. She sighed and stood, collecting what was left of the breakfast dishes from the table and taking them to the kitchen. It would be nice not to have a staff lurking about, giving her dirty looks when she wanted to cook something for herself, too.

  Maybe, if she was lucky, Mia and Jean would start an exodus.

  Chapter Seventeen: Creation

  “Eve!”

  She heard him calling but didn’t respond. Knees pulled to her chest and eyes shut tight, she rocked back and forth on her spine. The tree behind her groaned and rasped, and the leaves fluttered in the breeze.

  “Eve?” He was getting closer, she thought, listening to him crash through the brush. And then the sound stopped. She pictured him as he stepped into the meadow. He would see her in a moment, curled up at the base of the tree. But maybe not. She stopped rocking and held still. She didn’t even breathe.

  Leaves crunched beneath his feet as he moved closer. “Eve.”

  She didn’t speak. But she felt his presence and then the heat from his body as he knelt beside her. He brushed her hair back from her face, and she opened her eyes when she realized he wasn’t going to go away. His expression was dark with worry.

  “I’m not supposed to be his wife.”

  Reu studied her face. “You heard something?”

  “God called me his sister. He’s not allowed to have me. He’s not allowed to force me. God told him that.” God. God, who had brought her forth into this world. For what? Breathe, the voice had said. And she had, but she wished she could take it back.

  “Did he force you?”

  She buried her hands in her hair, clutching her head. Adam had known what he was doing. It had been different than the other times she had heard his thoughts. It was a demand. A command. Imposed over her own will. And the heat burning through her body had been his, too. She understood now why Lilith believed as she did. He had forced himself on her, not just physically, but mentally too. Only Lilith had no power of her own. No strength of mind to stop him. No way to protect herself from the way his words twisted her thoughts to his bidding. She wouldn’t understand what was happening.

  Eve wasn’t even sure she understood.

  “He tried.” But it wasn’t something she was ready to explain. It wasn’t something she had the words to describe. “I won’t be his wife.”

  Reu nodded and stood, glancing up at the tree sheltering her. He frowned and reached up, plucking a piece of fruit from a branch and staring at it. His forehead furrowed and he dropped the fruit as if it had stung him, stumbling back from beneath the boughs. He stared at the tree, his jaw tense and his face white.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head, searching the clearing now. Then he stopped, his gaze fixed on something over her head. The tree rasped again. “Eve, come toward me. Slowly.”
>
  There was a hissing behind her. Like laughter. She turned to look and then scrambled out from under the creature hanging above her head. A legless kind of lizard, only so much larger than anything she’d seen in the Garden, longer than her own body and patterned with green and brown diamonds. It slithered through the branches, its body rasping against the bark as it followed her movement to the edge of the canopy, the hissing laughter in her ear the whole way.

  A tongue flicked quickly in and out of its mouth and it stared into her eyes. “Sheltered as you’ve been you’ve already learned to fear.” It hissed another laugh, louder this time. “And God thought you’d be safe in the Garden.”

  She couldn’t look away from the creature. Even breathing became a labor as it stared at her, suspended from the lowest branch of the tree. “What are you?”

  “Reu knows.” The creature’s gaze shifted over her shoulder and the weight lifted enough for her to breathe again.

  “You’re Lucifer,” Reu said.

  It hissed another laugh. “And I didn’t even need to give you any hints.”

  “What do you want?” She didn’t like the way it laughed. The way its tongue slipped in and out, tasting the air. She had no idea who or what Lucifer was, but the way Reu spoke the name made the hairs on her arms stand up.

  “What does anyone want?” But the creature narrowed its pupils as it looked at her, and she felt as if it tore through every thought she’d ever had. Her skull ached. “Poor Eve, still struggling to understand this world you’ve woken to. I want to live. Undisturbed. Free. Without fear. Just as your Reu preaches we all should.”

  “What do you want from us?” Reu’s voice was rough. Eve thought it was dismay to have his words turned by this creature, though she didn’t know why, or what about it offended him.

  “Defy Adam. Bear sons and daughters of wisdom to protect us all. Eat of the fruit and live.”

  She stepped back, jerking her gaze from the creature and staring at the tree. The boughs were heavy with brilliant red leaves, hiding its bounty. At first glance, she had mistaken them for apples; the same fruit Hannah had offered her at midday the day before. But now she could see they were brighter, more luscious. And shining a polished gold so brilliant they reflected the red leaves around them.

  “The fruit?”

  The creature hissed again. “She knows more than she’s admitted, Reu. Picked it from the mind of God’s favorite son. Will you still love her when she can read your thoughts as well?”

  “The fruit is forbidden,” Reu said, glowering.

  “Do you really think he’s searching the Garden just for Eve’s pleasure?”

  “No.” She only realized she’d spoken out loud when the creature hissed with its awful laughter. She cleared her throat. “He’s looking for the fruit. It’s been in his thoughts since I’ve known him.”

  Reu shook his head. “The angels will never allow it.”

  “The angels will wait until God’s law has been broken before they act.” Lucifer said. “They won’t help you. And then it will be too late. Adam will destroy us all, determined as he is to have her.”

  The creature’s golden eyes were black slits as it stared at Reu, who had fallen silent. She could feel his tension, so thick it was like a weight in her heart. If the creature could inspire such dread, why did it need them to act?

  “You will not stop him?”

  “It is not in my power to stop God’s chosen ones from doing what they desire. I may only suggest, only beg, only plead.” The creature said it bitterly, and its long body drooped between the branches. “Adam will not be constrained by God’s law, and you cannot cower behind it for much longer. Make your choices carefully.” Its gaze shifted back to Reu, and the tongue flicked out and in again. “Or it will be your death. Not that it will matter for long. Creation will be undone soon after, and God’s sacrifice will have been made in vain. Will you not make the sacrifice of this small sin to save the whole world, when He gave His immortal life for you?”

  The creature pulled its body back into the crimson leaves, disappearing completely into the tree as though it had never been there.

  “Wait!” Eve called. But there was no response, and Reu hushed her, his head turning away from the tree. He pushed her behind him and stepped back, his shoulders squared against what came.

  Lilith crashed through the brush on the other side of the meadow with Lamech behind her. Reu swore, some of the stiffness leaving his body. He let Eve go, and when she moved to his side she could see the deep furrow of his brow.

  “The tree.” Lamech’s eyes were wide, and he glanced at Reu before his gaze returned to Lilith. His face paled.

  She was staring at the tree with eyes rounder than the moon, and then her gaze fell to the ground and the golden fruit there. She stepped forward, reaching down to pick up the shining apple Reu had dropped.

  Lamech made a strangled noise. “Lilith, no. You mustn’t. It’s forbidden.”

  “Nothing is forbidden to Lord Adam.” Her fingers caressed the golden skin. “He will be pleased with me for finding this.”

  “It won’t matter, Lilith.” Reu spoke gently. “Even if you bring this to him, it won’t make him stop hurting you.”

  Lilith shook her head, staring at the fruit. “You don’t understand.”

  “I do.” Eve stepped forward.

  There was a ring of purple around Lilith’s neck, black and blue marks in the shape of hands on her arms and splotches all over her body. This was what Reu had meant. What he hadn’t wanted her to see. What Lilith had suffered in her place. But she hadn’t seen this in Adam’s mind when he had kissed her. It had been different, and yet…

  “The touch of his mind, the heat that sinks into your bones, bending you to his will. I understand, and what he’s done to you is wrong.”

  “He is Lord! We are his to do with as he pleases.”

  “He’ll destroy us all, Lilith,” Reu said. “He’ll hurt us all. Is that what you want?”

  “You should be careful what you say, Reu. He’s already angry with you. He thinks you’re trying to take her from him.”

  “Eve is free to make her own choices, just as you are.”

  But she wasn’t. Eve could feel the way Lilith’s emotions had been twisted. Adam’s power was like a cloud over her mind, his presence thick in her thoughts. It wouldn’t matter what Reu said to her. It didn’t matter what God’s law once might have been. Lilith would answer only to Adam, would follow only Adam. Eve pitied this woman. For the woman she might have been if Adam had not taken her. Was this what they would all be, once Adam had the fruit? When he had the power he thought would come by eating it?

  “It’s too late, Reu.” She could feel the ripple of Adam’s pleasure from across the Garden, crawling up her spine. “He knows she’s found it.”

  “You’re certain?”

  She nodded and turned away. If presenting Adam with the fruit would spare Lilith another beating, another night of pain, so be it. There was no stopping the rest. Even if they took it from her and sent her back without anything to show, he would still find it now. Lilith would lead him back here. She would tell him they had stopped her, and he would punish them. Reu and Lamech would be made to suffer, or cast out.

  Yes, she was certain.

  Reu was watching her, searching her face. “What will you do?”

  Eve stepped toward the tree, and the low branch from which the serpent had hung. One of the fruits, hidden in the red leaves, winked with a flash of sunlight. A faint tingle traveled down her arm as her hand closed around it and the fruit came free. The branch swayed, relieved of its burden, weeping the broad scarlet leaves in a shower around her.

  The fruit was heavy in her hand. Much heavier than an apple would have been. She wondered briefly about the angels. Who they were, and what they would do to her when they realized she had broken God’s law. Sin, the creature had called it. But was it, really? Or was it wisdom, for the greater good, like the story Reu had told her ab
out the one-eyed man in the sky?

  She raised the fruit to her lips.

  Chapter Eighteen: 650 BC

  In the North, the ocean currents shifted and beneath the surface, magma channels altered course. A frozen fist closed around their people, and even Sif forgot her anger for a time, as the gods worked to save the lives of those who looked to them. It had come upon them without warning, as though the Aesir were bedeviled by a higher power. Thor did not like to dwell on the possibility that this might be a punishment sent by the True God, Eve’s Elohim, nor did he so much as breathe the suggestion to Odin. If it was the True God, the fault was his for meddling with Elohim’s daughter, and Thor did not dare speak of Eve to Sif. There was no room for strife in Asgard, not while their people starved. There was no room for anything but what might be done to save them.

  Freyr ensured what crops remained gave a bountiful harvest, but the vines could not survive the cold for long. The summers had been easier, but no matter how well Freyr tended the crops, or how much rain and sun Thor gave the fields, there wasn’t enough to see the people through the lengthening months of barren cold with so little hunting to supplement their meals. Fighting against snowdrifts taller than a man made game hard to find, and as the winters lengthened, more plants began to fail.

  Sif spent her days in the storehouses, blessing meager harvests of wheat to protect them from spoil, and Freyja spent long days and nights, shepherding the dead to their final rest. Men so weak they died hunting in the snow, desperate to find game for their wives and children, starving at home. Frigg consulted the runes and her visions of fate, but she saw no end in sight.

  On Odin’s order, Thor left for Egypt to beg for grain. But the North lands did not suffer alone.

  “War,” Ra told him, his ancient face looking older still. “Eve’s brother is King of the Universe in Assyria, and he is determined to crush us beneath his heel. Bakare did well for a time, but Thebes is sacked now. I fear the dynasty will not recover.”

 

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