Page 75 of These Godly Lies
“Dead,” Marcia chirps. The blade at Anna’s back retreats, replaced by a rough push of her hand. Anna falls forward, catching herself on her hands and knees. Anna can hear the cruel enjoyment in her voice when she says, “She killed him.”
Alabaster lips twist into a scowl, his hands gripping his throne with a strength that makes the roots groan in protest. At his feet, Cassius and Silas share a silent look. “Is that so?”
Marcia’s grin is feral. “She had one of Lin’s blades.” Her eyes slide to Khiran, lip curling in disgust. “Apparently, the Liesmith thought to hide one away before he faced banishment.”
“It is not the only thing that’s been stolen.” He says, standing. The First walks toward them with a grace—astrength—that seems at odds with the silver in his hair and the paper thin wrinkles lining the corners of his eyes. He stops in front of Khiran, towering over him once Marcia delivers a kick to the back of Khiran’s leg, forcing him to kneel.
He hisses as his knees crack against the roots blanketing the earth, wincing.
The First reaches into the pocket of his pale robe, retrieving something. It isn’t until he lifts it up to the light, holding it between his thumb and forefinger, that Anna realizes what it is.
Her ring.
The one Khiran sacrificed blood and bone to make, all so she would remain hidden to the eyes bearing down on them now.
Anna’s heart gives a painful lurch, her sharp intake of breathrattling in her lungs. The etchings are dark against the pale bone; stained where her and Khiran’s blood had settled and never flaked away.
“An interesting piece of magic,” he says, studying the runes etched into the bone. “It must have hurt terribly.” He drops the ring to the ground, his boot grinding it into a patch of earth nestled between the maze of roots. “Imagine my surprise when Marcia dropped it in my palm with news that the girl you ran off with has tasted a peach frommytree.”
“Be honest,” Khiran mocks, glaring up at the pale god, “are you angry she tasted it, or are you just pissed it was taken without you— the great, all seeing First—ever noticing?”
The First’s eyes narrow, veins mapping the pale skin of his neck like roots. “Still don’t know when to hold your tongue, I see.” His eyes slide to Anna, gaze dragging over her as if there are secrets buried beneath her skin, waiting to be carved from her flesh. “Ah, but maybe I give you too little credit. Perhaps you know exactly when to let that mouth of yours run.”
Khiran’s gaze doesn’t drop, but Anna catches the way his jaw strains. He hasn’t looked at her once since they left the mountains behind them. As if his glance alone could condemn her. “Credit is something you’ve never been generous with.”
The words effectively snare The First’s attention, but there’s a dark amusement pulling at the corners of his mouth that spells danger. “I suppose not. Perhaps, in the end, you’ve done me a greater service than you intended. The Tree is dying, our numbers dwindling. And you come bearing fresh blood.”
Khiran’s teeth grind, his hands trembling in their bonds. “She’s of no use to you. She—”
A bored flick of his hand, and Khiran’s voice is gone. Silenced with no more than a thought.
“My,” Cassius hums, leaning against one of the larger roots, “I think this is the first time I’ve seen him speechless.”
The shapeshifter’s responding glare is murderous. Anna reminds herself that the amused tipping of Cassius’ lips is part of his mask.
The First looks over at the small group nestled between TheTree’s great roots, his eyes darkening. “I see Kaia has still failed to heed my call.”
Marcia scoffs, as if the shape of the other woman’s name brings a bad taste to her mouth. “Kaia is as much a traitorous coward as he is. It’s no surprise she chooses to hide despite your summons.”
His lips twist into a smile so sharp, Anna can feel the edge of it like a blade against her pulse. “She will come,” he says, grabbing Khiran by the back of his neck, dragging him away. Khiran fights his hold, his mouth moving around a silent snarl, but there is a strength in The First that is deceptively subtle. For all of Khiran’s efforts, feet planting into the earth, body twisting, The First seems entirely unfazed.
Then Anna sees where he’s taking him—water, crystalline blue against a forest of green off to the side of the great tree. A pond, its waters deceptively deep judging by the way it darkens as it pulls away from the shore.
Anna fights against the hands that hold her, blood rushing in her ears like a riptide fighting to drag her under. “Stop! Leave him alone!”
His steps don’t falter as he walks into the water. He doesn’t even give her the dignity of his attention, only stopping once the still water reaches his hips, before forcing Khiran’s head under. “You make things hard for yourself, Kaia!” he calls. “Come now and come quickly or I’ll hold him under until there’s nothing left for him to scream.”
The magic that had silenced Khiran earlier is gone. Anna can make out the garbled sound of his voice as he thrashes against the hands holding him down. Her efforts to get away from Marcia’s iron grip doubles, desperate to reach him, but her strength is unyielding. A mountain she can’t move. Shackles she can’t escape.
Khiran stops screaming, out of breath, and Anna is losing herself in his silence, because she can’t sit there and watch him drown. She can’t. There are begging words in the shape of promises on her tongue—anything, she will do anything, just please stop hurting him—but the water recedes from the shore before she can speak them.
A wall of water rising, rising, rising. The First stands, small butwithout fear, in the shadow of a tsunami waiting to fall. His hold on Khiran’s neck goes lax, the shapeshifter falling to the shallows. The impact, and perhaps Kaia’s magic, pulls the water from his lungs in a guttural cough. The First doesn’t drop his eyes from Kaia’s. “How kind of you to join us.”
Kaia’s gaze is deadly. Cold enough to burn.
The First meets it without flinching. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you how Marcia’s binds work? Try to whisk him away and that lovely noose will tighten.” He turns his back to her, returning to his twisted throne and flicking a hand towards the others. “I trust you remember your place, Kaia?”
“I remember much more than that,” she hisses, her round face pale with quiet rage. She kneels in the shallow water, helping Khiran up as he finds his breath. He leans on her as they leave the shore, the wall of water dropping with the subtlety of a door slammed shut behind them.
