AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But I am determined to hatch a better escape plan, and the first part of that is to not rely on my memory when it comes to charms and anything else I might need. I will scour these books until I have answers, no matter how long it takes, and then I’m going to be meticulous in my execution.
No more asking the kitchen servants for help. I go to the farmhouse most days to see Meera and take her for a ride. It’ll be the perfect cover to venture farther into the village and buy or trade for whatever I need. I don’t have much to trade with, but surely there’s something of value in my rooms the souls in Videva might want.
I drape my legs over the arm of the chair, wincing when the movement drags my back over the opposite arm. The skin between my shoulder blades is scratched and raw where Thieran pressed me against the tree trunk.
I shouldn’t have kissed him, shouldn’t have let it go farther than that. Shouldn’t have enjoyed it so fucking much. The goal was to seduce Nevon, give him easy access with that uncomfortable dress. And it had been working too. Nevon wanted to show me somewhere beautiful and private.
The hot springs were both. But Thieran ruined it with his growling commands and rough hands and wandering kisses and hard… I shake the memory of last night from my thoughts. I need to focus.
Returning my attention to the book at hand, I skim through the pages, looking for the passage on wards. There are two different kinds of wards—those created by gods and those created by mortals.
Mortal wards can be broken by performing a banishing ritual. Pluck hyssop from the ground by the root and mix with the wings of a beetle, salt, and the dried, crushed bones of a hummingbird. Add the ingredients to a jar of water and let steep under the sun for three days.
I have no idea how one would go about collecting enough beetle wings to make this work or if the Shadow Realm has hummingbirds, but mortal wards are not my issue. I’m dealing with a god. A very ancient and powerful one.
The book gives several more recipes on how to break mortal wards, but its paragraph on immortal ones is less helpful, essentially advising me to ask nicely or rot on the wrong side of the barrier. Neither of which is an option. I doubt I could seduce Thieran to release me in the same way I might have Nevon.
Tossing that book to the floor, I pick up the next one and flip quickly through the pages. Ready to set it down, I pause when I see a passage about shielding mortals from the divine.
The ritual is meant more to protect a mortal from a god’s advances, but the end result is the same. Thieran wouldn’t be able to detect me in the Shadow Realm—an important aspect of a successful escape.
It’s nothing like the one I tried last time, and the ingredients and instructions seem simple enough. Combine all the dried herbs and oils into a jar and seal it with wax from a white candle. Then leave the potion to cure for a fortnight.
It’s longer than I wanted to wait, but it’s better than nothing. And the herbs and oils should be easy enough to get at any apothecary. Assuming Videva has an apothecary. I can’t imagine the souls of dead mortals require many healing remedies.
I mark the page with a bit of parchment and move on to the next book. Being shielded from Thieran is all well and good, but it means nothing if I can’t get past his barrier. Knowing he intentionally created a hole in the wards just to toy with me has embarrassment twining with anger and heating my face.
Yet another reason I shouldn’t have let him take me in the forest. No matter how good it was or how much I want him to do it again. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone, certainly not someone who makes me feel the way Thieran does. All hot, desperate need.
But that’s hardly the point. We are enemies in this. And fucking him against a tree in the forest doesn’t change that. If anything, it’s an even better reason to get away from him before he completely addles my brain.
This book contains a few passages that might be useful about the gods and the source of their power. But the more I read, the more it seems like fanciful conclusions rather than proven fact.
It takes me more than two hours and three trips to different parts of the library before I have a pile of books that makes me feel as if I’ve made progress. I still don’t have an answer on breaking through the wards, but I think I’m headed in the right direction.
Standing, I stretch my arms over my head, my back protesting at the movement. I thought about asking one of the servants for a salve, something to make the scratches heal faster so they stop reminding me they exist every time I move.
But the idea of anyone guessing why I might need it is exactly why I refuse to ask. The look Kaia gave me over breakfast when I casually asked her to show me the library was bad enough. She knows. Whether Thieran told her or she guessed, Kaia knows we’ve been together.
There is nothing I can do about that. So I’ll just have to live with the embarrassment and the subtle look of what I assume was disapproval in her eyes. I do not answer to Kaia. I don’t answer to anyone, whatever Thieran might think.
Hefting the books I need in my arms and tucking them under my chin, I climb carefully down to the first floor, pausing when I hear movement in the stacks to my right.
A swath of black skirt appears at the edge of the shelf before she does. Her hair, black as midnight, is twisted in a series of elaborate braids that remind me of a den of snakes. She has a small silver tiara dotted with black onyx and rubies secured on her head, and her lips are painted a deep red.
Iluna, the Goddess of Night, does not look happy to see me. Her boldly painted lip curls back over her teeth, and she sweeps a disapproving gaze over me from head to toe. It’s unclear whether she dislikes me because I’m a mortal or because I’m currently in the Shadow Realm. Or both.
So far my reception by the other immortals in the realm has been a warm one. I don’t need this goddess to like me, but I have no idea what danger I could be in if she doesn’t. Would Thieran stop her from harming me if it came to it? Iluna isn’t exactly known for her tolerance of mortals.
She takes a step toward me, and I take one back. Annoyed with myself, I stand my ground as she continues to cross to me.
“It’s customary to curtsy to a god,” she says, clearly waiting for my deference.
I should just do it, drop a quick bob and get out of here as fast as I can. But my pride won’t let me. One day it will, no doubt, be my undoing.
“My arms are a bit full for that today. Maybe some other time.”
The scowl on her face deepens, and she crosses her arms over her chest. The air shimmers around her, the faint scent of pine and ash reaching my nose before the air stills again.
