He smiled. “I have shocked you. Something I should mark down in my journal as the greatest of my successes.”
“You have. I did not know that the king knew who had come. I wasn’t aware that you would want her to return and instead received the other of his children.”
“He knew that she had come to our shores to hunt for shells and he allowed it.”
The fondness in his gaze made the anger snap thick and black within me. “I see. She did not cloak herself from your eyes?”
How had Cenia been so careless? A hundred things could have befallen her on a human island.
“Nothing happens in this kingdom that the king does not see a hundred different ways.” His stormy eyes stole through me, and I felt like my breath was coming faster.
It was, and I put a hand to my chest to still it.
The king had been interested in my sister and how could I not have seen it before? He also had laid a trap as my father had laid a trap. My father, in one moment, had stolen Cenia from both the king here who had of course taken one look and wanted her, and then taken her from me. The only one who would ever love her as I had.
For the god-king it would have been a star falling from the sky to land on his shores. And now she had slipped through his fingers and her sister of darkness had been sent in her stead.
He could not bear to see me, knowing that his victory was undone.
“Is he angry?” I asked, daringly.
He had wanted a star….
“He is disappointed in your family, as always.”
I gazed across the space into the mirror and noted how dim I was in comparison to Cenia.
How night suited me best and how the sun’s tribute was never my blessing. The sister given to him who’d already spilled the blood of his people into his ocean. Whose sting even now must make his subjects burn with fury.
He’d wanted a star.
Instead, he’d gotten a scorpion.
Chapter 2
The king did arrive home, but still had not come to see me. Such was his hatred at being robbed by my father, he avoided the suites and the kingdom fell into a chilling quiet of pending doom.
My doom.
If he thought to trade me back to my family for Cenia, he would wait the eternity of my banishment. For some reason, the thought filled me with dread. Every glance at my face would reveal his failure.
Arman, as was the guard’s name, brought meals I did not eat, noted rest I did not take, and often asked if I would waste away. He seemed worried that if I died of starvation, word would spread of cruelty.
Even being assured that I did not need sustenance, he’d prodded me to ready myself for the evening meal, for he would be breaking his oath of not to touch me and forcing me to eat if I did not by midnight.
I took extra care to ready myself, though my hair still dragged on the floor and I had nothing to hold it in place. The servants had tried to tend it many times, and it had only burst through the ties as I knew it would.
When Arman came that evening, he was careful not to step on it.
He brought the meal himself and offered for me to sit and dine with him. I agreed and tried the quail.
“Will I ever see the king?” I asked, and Arman shrugged.
“Perhaps it’s best if you do not.”
“Perhaps.”
“How is your dinner?” he asked.
“It’s actually very good.” I smiled, and he gaped at me.
I straightened my lips.
He flushed and blinked, looking away, before he poured us wine. “This is special. It’s from the king’s stock. Don’t drink too much,” he told me.
“Nonsense,” I said, pretending I drank the wine of the gods at every occasion.
I took a sip and the bouquet filled my senses in a heady attack of deliciousness. I moaned and closed my eyes, drinking my entire cup. For the first time since arriving to the islands, I relaxed and felt my bones melt and my spine loosen.
Arman was watching me carefully when I opened my eyes. I held up my cup and he poured more, eyeing me with fascination as I drained a second, then a third.
“It is unwise to…”
And I poured my own fourth, happy with the relief the drink gave me.
It dawned on me I knew almost nothing about the islands. Growing up, my father merely said the western islands were forbidden and the god-king there was an enemy. I realized that I was not in my own home any longer. I could ask these questions without being punished.
The wine and my new freedom emboldened me. “What are these islands called?”
“They have several names. The seven islands is what most call them.”
I snorted at the name then covered my nose and gasped with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I expected something more dramatic.”
“They have more dramatic names,” Arman said, smiling. “But I chose to give you the common one.”
“Your king is king of them all?”
“Yes.”
“And who rules the other six?”
“He has those who stand in his place when he visits each. A regent who is treated as king in his stead.”
I cocked my head the same way I’d seen the humans do on occasion. “You rule here?”
“I do.”
I touched the rim of my cup. He had tricked me into believing him common. How wise.
“Why does the king and my father hate one another?”
Arman took a deep draw on his own cup, and I watched the workings of his throat. “A story the king will relish to tell you one day, I suppose,” he offered dryly.
“Then he and my father have much in common, it seems,” I replied equally dry. “And how do you feel about the responsibility of keeping me?”
“Honestly?”
“Of course.”
“I hated the idea at first. In part, I still do. It’s dangerous for my people.”
“Your people.”
Arman nodded. “The king is the king. But this island has been mine for a long while. The king has little to do with the direct affairs of the people and he trusts me to rule for him. Over time, they have become my people.”
I swallowed. His knowing gaze held mine. I’d killed his soldier not the king’s.
It was on the tip of my tongue to apologize again but I did not.
His expression was one of disappointment, but the wine helped me ignore all of the little things that might threaten to ruin the evening. “To you and your people.”
I lifted my cup then rudely drank before he responded in kind.
I searched the room for some relief from my feelings. “Do you like to read?”
“I do.”
I casted a hand towards the shelves. “Can you tell me which is the one I should start with? I should like to learn about humans.”
Arman walked over and grabbed a green book that looked well worn. “This is my favorite.”
He grinned, and I saw a mischievous glint.
I stood but the island was moving with the waves and I fought my smile with my hands over my lips. I moved to his side and then leaned heavily on the bookshelf to stand. “Haven’t got my sea legs yet,” I said, and Arman laughed.
“You are nothing like what I imagined.” He put a hand on my arm to steady me, and I snorted.
A human steadying a goddess? But then my mirth was stifled by the look in his eyes.
“You’ve broken your oath.” His hand fell but his gaze was fire enough to reach me.
Arman was close enough that I felt his breath on my face. It was sweet, like nectar. The blue of his intelligent eyes was marred by gold flecks. I could see my reflection in them, and the candlelight made them appear to glow.
He lifted a hand to touch my face and I moved out of reach. “But you still hate having me here. Perhaps you hate me as well.”
He handed me the book. “No.”
It took several hours before the wine let me go from its dizzying grasp. I then sat on my balcony and opened
the book. I thought I heard an owl in the night but could not see it. “Grandmother,” I said quietly to the moon, but she did not show her face.
It was as if my entire family had disowned me.
I sighed and began to read.
It wasn’t long after I had begun that I was red and flushing with surprise.
I slammed the book shut and had to fan myself. I was hot and flustered.
Why would he give me this book?
A servant came early in the morning. I had finished the book and then was reading it for a second time. She offered to dress me for riding. “Riding?”
“Do you…” her hands shook as she held out the clothing.
“No need to be afraid.”
I took them from her, and she skittered out of reach like a mouse. “Do you ride, my lady?”
I shrugged, unfolding the robes. They were finely made and would accentuate the slight glow of my skin. If my sister was for the sun, I was made like grandmother Selene, for the moon. The island’s foggy and over casted haze only made the slight silver of my skin all the brighter and my dark brown hair seem all the darker. To these humans I must have looked like quicksilver crowned with coal.
“How hard can it be? You sit on the horse and it does the work, right?” I asked her, and her eyes widened when they landed on the book.
“Do you know it?” I asked, and she shook her head. Lying.
“I see,” I said as she fled, holding cool hands to her cheeks.
She knew of it. And she’d been moved as I had been moved. In a barbaric and animalistic way.
It was vile. I should get rid of it. Or finish it once more then get rid of it.
Once I was dressed in the nearly black fabric, I struggled to wind my hair into a braid. I knew it would not last the day, but I could walk the castle halls without embarrassment.
It took me twice as long to dress alone. The island’s style for the women was to wrap robes this way and that until it was like a dress of many layers.
A guard showed me to the stables where Arman was waiting. “Sleep well?” he asked me with a wink.
The guard brought out a small pony, and I turned up my nose.
“Why is mine smaller?”
“The maid said you have not ridden.”
I tossed my hair much like my sister had so often done. “I am a goddess. I can command all animals.”
Arman rubbed his nose and motioned for the guard to bring me a war horse much like his own.
I stepped up to the animal and reached for it with my powers, but it was too much too soon, and the animal reared its head, nostrils flaring. Arman motioned the guard to take him away.
“Come. You’ll ride with me.”
It would have been immediate refusal had I not heard the humans around us gasping their fear for their ruler. As if I would murder him on the spot. Arman understood as well and reached a hand for me in a gesture of trust for all to see.
I took his hand and allowed him to pull me before him on his large gray horse with dapples on its rear. The animal stood rock still for its owner and I settled my robes. The hair was the most difficult.
“Leave it,” Arman said. “Barron won’t shy away at your robes and he has a fine bit of hair himself.”
From above, my hair nearly touched the ground, but as we moved, Arman was right, it merely blended with the robes and the horse’s long mane.
“Where are we going?”
Arman did not answer. He pushed the horse into a gallop as soon as I was settled and off we went, out of the castle stables, over the draw bridge, and into the village that sat behind the castle.
We arrived at some place that Arman thought we should. He dismounted first then reached for me, but I slid down of my own accord. “Here,” he said, handing me a bag.
“What’s this?”
“Money. Jewels.”
I made to hand it back. “I have no need.”
“It’s not for you.”
Arman led the way in all his mystery. I followed with the bag still in hand.
The home he approached was small and quaint, and a woman with black streaks across her cheeks and along her arms, as if she’d been working over a fire, answered.
“Come, my lord. Please.”
When she saw me, she fell to her knees.
Arman helped her to her feet, gazing at me as if he tried to see me through her eyes but could no longer. I had not become so strange to him. For some reason the thought made me happy.
Some children came from the back. Three of different ages and heights. They watched me carefully and I listened as Arman asked them how they fared.
“The goddess brings gifts,” he said, and I glanced down at the bag before realizing the money and jewels had been for this poor family.
The woman accepted and then she cried. She thanked me and tried to fall to her knees again, but Arman made a gesture for me to stop her.
I did. I reached for her and as gently as I could, brought her to her feet. “There is no need.”
“Is he in elysian fields, goddess? Is my husband there. He was a brave man a good man.”
I glanced at Arman in confusion before the idea finally took root with a swiftness. I felt washed away at sea, in a current, and the woman made a noise, and I let her arm go.
This was the family of the man I’d killed. My throat was tight when I said the words, “I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I do not…”
Arman’s glare burned the top of my head until I swallowed and nodded. “Yes. He is.”
“Oh, thank you,” the woman whispered, and she hugged her children tight.
Arman and I quietly exited. My feet felt made of lead and I moved to where our horse was with my head down.
“Food,” Arman said quietly. “And drink.”
I nodded and let him put me on the horse. I focused on nothing, my guilt so great that I felt ill with it.
“Those people,” I said, and Arman wrapped me in his cloak and hushed me.
He tilted my face so that I gazed at him over my shoulder and it was only then that I realized I was crying. I touched the tears. How human I must seem to this ruler in his land, because he was tempted to kiss me. I could see it in his eyes as clear as day.
And I would let him.
The shock of that woke him from his design, because he stiffened in his saddle and kicked the horse onward at a gallop.
I could do nothing but grip the beast with my thighs.
The village’s market was a merry place. It quickly roused me from my stupor of sadness. There was music and gaiety. There was shopping and haggling. There were…people.
My eyes feasted far more than my stomach. These humans were so many. Like the stars in the sky, they dotted every part of the Earth and I, daughter of solace and quiet, had no idea what it was like to be among them.
Arman was fascinated by my fascination. “This wine won’t make you as happy as the other, but it’s good.”
I pushed it away and continued to watch.
“Has it been hard to be alone in your rooms?” he asked, and I wondered if it was guilt I heard in his voice.
I sighed, pulling myself away from the wonder of human celebration. “Not as you would suppose. Even with my sister, there are times we were made to be alone or separate. I have lived most of my life in the company of myself.”
“How sad.”
I shrugged. “Is it? I have never felt hunger, pain, war. I have never felt the loss of someone I loved.” The guilt from before when seeing that family and the fruit of my mistakes ripped through my chest, the pain renewed.
Arman reached for my hand and touched it gently before looking beyond my shoulder and pulling away. I glanced to see what he saw, but nothing was there.
A big black dog jogged through the procession and stopped at our table to sit. “Well, hello,” I said, leaning forward, but it growled and moved on.
“Do you always beckon strange animals?” Arman asked and I laughed.
To me, human
s had been animals not long ago.
I grew shy. “Is there a woman, Arman?” Then I thought for a moment. “Are there many women?”
“Ah,” Arman said with a grin, crossing his arms. “You’ve read my book.”
The sun was fading so that Arman became quite careful and that in turn made me quite careful. I was unsure if he had enemies or if he worried that I would bring mine to the island, but I followed his lead.
When we returned to the horse, there were many people waiting for us.
“Goddess,” they said, with their hands out.
Little girls came and brought me flowers. Men went to their knees, and women held candles aloft.
I glanced up at the moon to see it glowing with pride at what the humans would bring to her granddaughter.
It made me sad to see it.
“Bless us,” they said. “Please.”
Their eyes were blank in worship and their faces were drawn with fear and awe.
It made me afraid.
Without answering, I rushed into Arman’s arms as he pulled me up onto Barron’s saddle and spurred us away from them out into the night.
Chapter 3
I had thought perhaps our relationship would progress to a strange and unforeseen point from that night, but it never came to that. One evening not long afterwards, dinner was brought swiftly by servants who seemed to be sweating through their attire. “What is it?”
Silence.
They were no doubt forbidden to speak with me. Arman did arrive soon after, sword in hand, eyes wide.
“The king has spoken to your father. There is to be war.”
“What! Here?”
He nodded. “He does not come himself, of course. Then all of Olympus will get involved. But he does send his men sailing to our island to fight his war. Humans, I mean.”
I gaped at him as he barred my door. “For your safety, my lady.”
And then Arman was gone, and I was left to bear the responsibility of a war. My room was outfitted with a balcony. From it I could see the ocean, and the kingdom. I was high in the castle, high enough to see above the fog that had set in and the many lanterns off the coast that burned like floating orbs within it.
Beware the Fallen: Young Adult Mythology (Banished Divinity Book 1) Page 2
