Shattered Heir (Broken Gods Book 1)

by N. M. Howell

  Rhea’s emotions flared. She opened her mouth to protest, but Taelor raised his hand to stop her.

  “I know you don’t want to be queen. I know you don’t want to sit on the throne. I know you deny your destiny as heir to the Otherworld, but hear this: Until an heir sits on the throne, an heir who can lead her people into a time of peace, people won’t recognize you as their leader. They won’t follow you into this war if you’re not their legitimate ruler. It’s all well and good to try and motivate them, to instill hope through your words, but until you actually reclaim the throne and accept your destiny, you’re no better than they are. You’re no stronger, you’re no more powerful than any one of them. Their allegiance will falter if you’re not the true queen. People are weaker than you give them credit for.”

  Rhea shook her head, her mind furiously working for an argument. “These people are strong,” she finally choked.

  “You saw what happened in the battlefield,” he replied. “Even the peace fighters could be bought for the right price. If you lead people into a war that threatens their lives and their livelihood, there’s nothing saying that they won’t turn sides. We need to give them a true queen to look up to, someone to rule them and not just lead them into an uncertain future. We need to give them hope and we need to give them something to believe in. And that person is you, Rhea. The person who will lead this world into peace is you, but you need to sit on the throne to do it.”

  Rhea’s blood ran cold as she watched Taelor give his speech. She shook her head, her body trembling. “Taelor, I told you a thousand times. I’m not in this to be anyone’s ruler. I have no interest in it. My life is worth more to me than being some stupid ruler. I’m not meant to sit on the throne, I’m not powerful enough, and I’m not good enough to lead them as a queen. There is someone out there who is worthy, but that person is not me. I’ll do what I can to help save this realm, to help find the ruler to lead them to times of peace, but that doesn’t involve sitting on the throne myself.”

  At that, Rhea turned and ran from him. She ran back to her tent and threw herself on her mat, burying her face in her pillow. She lay in the tent, wide awake, for what felt like hours until she heard Taelor return, his soft footsteps finally settling next to the tent as he lay down on his mat and fell asleep.

  She waited until their breathing had slowed and she was sure they were all asleep. Her mind raced, and she couldn’t find sleep herself. She couldn’t find peace in her heart, only anger and stress. Only confusion. She didn’t know what to do. Taelor was wrong, she knew that much. She didn’t have to sit on that stupid throne in order to see this world brought back to peace. She would lead them as a missionary, as a fighter. But not as their queen. That wasn’t who she was and it wasn’t what this is journey was about. If only she could make them understand.

  Rhea’s thoughts were driving her mad, and when she was certain the entire camp was deeply asleep, she slowly crawled out of her tent and tiptoed away.

  The stars above shone bright, illuminating the surroundings with an ethereal glow. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of the cold night air, exhaling slowly through her nose as her body calmed. With one final glance back to her sleeping guardians, she turned on her heels and ran for the forest.

  She needed to get away, if just for a little while. She would return before morning, her mind refreshed after she’d had some time to think. She had a lot to figure out, the most important of which was finding a way to convince Taelor that she could do this without being queen. He was wrong, and she just had to find a way for him to see it.

  Without turning back, Rhea walked into the depths of the forest, the canopy above casting out the illumination of the stars. Her mind full and her heart heavy, she walked into the darkness to find a place to think.

  11

  The cold night air enveloped Rhea as she walked, and goosebumps emerged along the exposed flesh of her forearms. She tugged on her sweater, wrapping the threadbare fabric tightly around her shivering body.

  It was quiet in the forest. Her surroundings felt damp, the air a thick blanket of moisture that prickled her skin. Under the little light offered by the starry sky above, the forest appeared much greener than the outside fields. She walked alongside a small creek, a narrow and winding offshoot from the river that sprawled through the thick splattering of trees. Wet pine needles carpeted the forest floor, muting her footsteps as she traveled deeper into the wood.

  When she was confident she was far enough away from the camp, she slowed, her breath returning to her and her mind running wild. She had been filled with adrenaline when she made that speech to the villagers—filled with a new strength and purpose that felt unfamiliar as she stood before all those people looking up so excitedly with hope filling their eyes. Rhea did what she felt she had to do, though she now realized it had come from the heart and not from the head. Perhaps Taelor was right. Perhaps she had made a huge mistake.

  What was a small, untrained girl like her going to do against entire armies full of enemies spreading across the realm? It didn’t matter who she was or whose blood ran through her veins, she was still just a single person. A god, though, even if a small one. Her power was great, but she refused to use it, making her no better than a mere human.

  She stopped in her tracks, letting out a slow, calming sigh as she tried to force her mind to quiet. She closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side, stretching out the sore muscles in her neck and shoulders before allowing her feet to navigate the spongy ground once more.

  But her mind refused to settle. There was simply too much at stake. If she denied her powers, what good would she be? And if she did allow herself to use them, going against everything she’d promised herself before, she would be no better than any of the other gods. No more special. No stronger or fiercer than the gods warring for the throne—those who stole from her people, destroyed the lands and tore families apart. The gods took and gave little in return, and that’s exactly what her power was. Her magic was a magic of taking, not of giving. It opposed her very nature, went against everything she believed in. It went against everything she’d fought to uphold.

  It didn’t take her long to decide she would uphold her vow to herself to never use her magic. It simply wasn’t worth the risk.

  Picking up a faster pace once more, the dampness set into her bones as she pressed on. She shivered violently and cursed herself for not bringing a warmer jacket. She couldn’t believe how much she hadn’t considered when she left her home in Detroit. What had she been she thinking?

  Well, she did know what she’d thought if she was honest with herself. She’d thought that she would go to Chicago and make a new life there. That she would build new roots and stay hidden as her human self, away from the world of the gods. She figured she would set up a new place to live, make new friends, and maybe even start a somewhat decent life in a new city. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought would be back in the Otherworld, giving sweeping speeches to an elven village and walking through bloodied battlefields over an endless sea of corpses.

  As she walked deeper into the woods, the trees thickened and the sky disappeared above her. She was no longer guided by the light of the stars, so she held her hands out front of her and felt her way through the thick brush. The ground was damp and soggy, and her feet sunk deeper with every step. A soft sucking noise followed every time she pulled each muddied boot from the soil. Water began seeping in through the knock-off leather, sending an even deeper shiver through her body.

  Rhea slowed for a chance to kick off the mud from her boots. She ran her fingers along the rough bark as she walked, feeling the textures of the trees, relishing in their vital energy. She loved nature. She’d missed it. There was not a whole lot of it in Detroit, especially where she’d lived downtown. The tall buildings had become her forest canopy, and the cars her woodland creatures.

  The hooting of an owl pulled her attention upward. Leaves ruffled and fell around her like heavy snow.
She couldn’t see the creature fly away, but she felt the forest adjust around her. She closed her eyes again, listening to the beat of its wings as it pulsed up through the branches. She wished she could fly away, too. She envied the owl, its freedom to just push off and fly wherever it wanted to, away from the horrors that lay below. To fly in the wind, under the glow of the stars or the heat of the sun, wings outstretched with no worries at all, being carried by the currents in the sky, no chains, no cares, just weightlessness.

  Sighing loudly, she pushed onward, the fresh air helping to clear her mind. She tried to think of ways to convince Taelor that she was not meant to sit on the throne, though she had a feeling whatever she told him wouldn’t be enough. He was convinced that for her to succeed in restoring the realm to peace, she needed to be queen. Even just the thought of it pulled her stomach into knots and sent shivers up her spine.

  She’d seen the horrors that came from that throne. She wouldn’t even want to be in the same room as it, let alone sit upon it. One could learn a lot from history, and from studying the past of the Otherworld, it was clear that no good things came to those who sat that damned chair. Death, destruction—either at their command or directed at them—it didn’t seem to matter. An awful darkness surrounded that position, and she refused to let herself fall victim to it.

  The stream wrapped around a large tree, its trunk so massive it would take ten of her arm lengths to circle it. Carefully, she stepped down the steepening slope toward the water, which had narrowed to barely a trickle this deep in the forest. She followed along the rocky shoreline, winding through the trees beneath the canopy above.

  As she strolled, she felt herself growing warmer. Her skin no longer prickled with the cold breeze of the night, but rather a thickening, almost unbearable weight that settled upon her skin. Strange, she thought. Being so deep in the forest, one assumed the air would grow colder away from the light of the stars and the warmth of the reflected moonlight.

  She walked mindlessly along the stream, her worries erased and her spirits lifting. She did begin to feel weightless, just like the owl. It seemed simply going for a walk was enough to clear her head. She felt almost as if she could fly.

  Swinging her heart arms at her side, she tried to recall her concerns from earlier. What had she been thinking about? Her mind felt numb, somehow, and she couldn’t quite recall her previous thoughts. Her face flushed as the air grew thick. She felt enraptured, being drawn forward by some invisible energy that wanted her to follow the water.

  Smiling absentmindedly, she let her feet carry her along. With no thought to where she was going, she just allowed herself to be pulled by the incredible energy that wrapped around her. Her body felt light and her mood lifted. She couldn’t imagine what thoughts had burdened her so deeply before, but whatever they were, they were no longer present. She was glad.

  Humming a soft tune to herself as she walked in reverie, her eyelids lowered, and her muscles relaxed. In the distance, she could hear a soft melody matching her own slow song. The sound was intoxicating, mesmerizing. She walked toward it, wanting to be consumed by it. The farther she went, the warmer the air got, wrapping around her like a cozy blanket. Rhea didn’t know where she was going, but she knew it was where she needed to be.

  Her feet led her to an open clearing. A wide meadow glowed under the light of the stars, wilted flowers and small mushrooms lay sprawling across the dry expanse, shining like beacons. On the far side of the clearing was a small stone hut, crumbling to ruin. The roof was gone, and the windows void of glass, but a small stream of smoke made its way out of the chimney, spiraling up and disappearing into the cloudless night sky above.

  The smoke glowed like a beacon before her, and she walked toward it, her eyes fixated on the spiraling patterns. As she approached, an odd energy coiled around her body, slithering up her legs, around her torso, and up to her neck. It was strange and unfamiliar, yet welcoming and desirable all at once. She wanted more and focused on the feeling in her mind as she approached the hut.

  A few steps away, Rhea paused. Her attention was drawn down to the front step where a boy about the age of sixteen sat. He wasn’t much younger than she, but his face was round and fresh with youth. His eyes sparkled, and his smile was unwavering.

  “Welcome,” he said to her, his voice echoing both within the clearing and within her mind, coiling around her just like the strange energy that had encased her before.

  Rhea couldn’t pull her gaze away from him. The gentle blues of his eyes calmed her as she gazed at him.

  “Who are you?” she asked, her head tilting to the side in a curious gesture. No matter his answer, she knew she liked him. She was drawn to him. She wanted to reach out and touch him. She wanted to experience the person who gave off that overwhelming energy. She wanted to bathe in his warmth.

  His smile widened as he bowed his head. “I’m a friend,” he said. He pushed himself up, and at the same time a large silver wolf padded around him and sat on his left side while a short, willowy faery stepped around him to the right.

  Rhea observed the two creatures curiously before turning her attention back to the boy. His smile was enrapturing, his teeth sparkling white, and his lips so soft she wished she could kiss them so that she could feel his flesh against her own.

  “I’m Rhea Greystone,” she said, her voice barely over a whisper. The words came hard, her mind elsewhere.

  “I know who you are, godling,” the boy replied.

  His voice sounded so sweet, she could almost taste it. She managed to reach out to him, her arms leaden. She needed to touch him. There was nothing else in the world she wanted more than to be with him. Something about him was different, special. The energy in the air pulled her forward, and she took another timid step toward him.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “We won’t hurt you. We’re friends.”

  She didn’t know how, but she knew his words were true. She could feel it deep in her bones, and his words were like velvet against her hard thoughts. She took another step forward.

  “That’s it,” he cooed. “Come closer.”

  She smiled and took another few steps toward him. She stopped a foot away, closing her eyes and inhaling the sweet scent of the boy’s perfume. She could smell wolf and the sugary scent of his faery companion, but it was the sweet yet musky smell that surrounded the boy himself that she was intoxicated by.

  “There’s a good girl,” he said, his voice as soft as silk. “We’re friends now, you see? The best of friends.”

  Rhea nodded slowly, soaking in the warmth of his breath. “Best of friends,” she agreed.

  “Would you come inside?”

  His eyes narrowed at her as she considered. The wolf and the faery turned and left them, sauntering through the door and to the interior of the shattered hut, disappearing behind the crumbling stone.

  “But it’s broken,” Rhea said, her eyes flickering quickly to the hut before settling back on the boy. Her words felt muddied, difficult. She had trouble thinking clearly.

  “Of course it’s not,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact. “This is my home. My castle.”

  Rhea blinked and looked back up at the structure. The stones suddenly grew bigger, the structure higher, the chimney wider. A small castle stood before her, welcoming and inviting.

  She smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

  She walked around him to the inside, her new friend following close behind. She could feel his breath prickling against the back of her neck, and she wanted to stop and turn, and reach out to him and pull him close. She wanted him to whisper in her ear and touch her skin and wrap his arms around her forever. She reached out to him but paused.

  Something nagged at the back of her mind. What was it? If only she could think through the haze.

  “What’s your name?” she finally asked him.

  Fire ignited deep inside her, but she couldn’t quite understand it. She could hear herself screaming within her own mind, but it was muffled.
Almost too distant to decipher.

  “My name is Trey,” the boy said. “Don’t you remember? We’re best friends.”

  Trey. The name sounded familiar. She smiled and nodded. “Of course we are.” They were the best of friends, now and forever. He was so familiar, felt so warm and natural. She liked being with Trey. She wanted to be with Trey forever.

  “So, friend,” Trey said. He moved to the side of the fireplace, leaning against the large stone mantel as he gazed at her. The wolf curled up in front of him, wrapping his massive body around Trey’s feet, his fur glinting with bright silver in the flickering firelight. The faery perched up on a windowsill, watching curiously, her eyes mischievous and dark. Rhea didn’t bother herself with those two; she only had eyes for Trey.

  Trey’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me why you’re here.”

  Rhea cocked her head to the side, entranced by his voice. The fire cast fascinating shadows across his face, making his eyes stand out like diamonds against his tanned skin.

  “You invited me here,” she replied.

  Trey shook his head, his eyes flaring. “No, silly godling. I mean, why are you here in the Otherworld?”

  Rhea considered and shrugged, her memory a deepening haze. “I don’t know. I don’t remember coming here.”

  “Surely you must,” he insisted. His eyes grew dark, stormy.

  Rhea was mad at herself for making him upset. She wanted him to be happy, for him to smile at her again.

  “I’m sorry, I’ll try to remember.” She tried to access the deepest parts of her mind, but couldn’t. Everything was clouded with the dark shadow, too distant for her to see clearly.

  “Please, do.”

  She finally frowned, sadness filling her. She shook her head. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”