Vassal by Sterling D'Este (ebook reader computer TXT) 📕

in herself, and so she had ignored him or openly scoffed. It was difficult to measure age in the Cursed Realms, as no one died unless they were Unmade, and even then, their spirits lasted forever. Despite this longevity, many were born. It was one of the reasons there were so many wars and so many slaves.

Enyo was certain Va'al was generations, perhaps even centuries, younger than she. He was mischievous and silly.

What would she do with someone such as that?

“Goddess?” the Priest asked again.

“Send him in, Ba’oto,” she murmured, turning back to her altar. Va'al had come respectfully; she would at least grant him an audience.

⚀

“Hello, Enyo,” Va'al said with a courteous nod of his head. He would, of course, bow to no one, no matter how he might enjoy their company. Not anymore. “Spring suits you.”

For all that it did not feel like spring in Enyo’s mountaintop temple, the season did show in her bearing, all newness and bounty. As though spring was as much in her as the world around her. Va'al felt his pulse quicken, but he did not reach for the gift hidden within his bag. He meant to make a gamble, but such things shouldn’t be rushed.

Enyo kept her back to Va'al, hands repeatedly running over the rough edges of her altar. Perhaps she was being coy. Or perhaps she was truly more interested in the stone than him.

“Spring suits us all. It’s the start of new life across all of Illygad. My first season here, I nearly wept when I saw it. I think the Cursed Realms had forgotten what spring was. What any change in season was. Only burnt ashes and screaming voices.” Her hands stilled over the altar finally.

“I hated that place.”

Va'al clenched his teeth. Why must she bring up the Cursed Realms every time he saw her? Could she not tell that he was bent on forgetting his past, on starting fresh?

He took a calming breath and focused again on his purpose in coming here, words coiling from his tongue like snakes. “In honor of spring, we ought to put the Cursed Realm behind us. Let that name no longer fall from our lips so that we may forget and start anew.”

She finally turned to face him, her expression controlled, eyes roaming over his frame as they always did. It was clear she found him attractive, though she never acted on it. Infuriatingly.

“I can’t argue with that line of thought. Spring is spring after all.” She swept her gaze towards the newly erected roof of her temple and then shrugged. “Very well. Anew. What is it that you want then?”

“I’m sure you noticed, as did I, that last time we were together, Tha’et was boasting of a pearl. The most perfect pearl ever made by the sea. A miniature of the moon and as large as a hen’s egg. I don’t know if I believe that the moon herself gave it to him, as he claims, but it does make an excellent gift.”

Carefully, Va'al pulled the wooden box from his shadow and blew from its delicate engravings the lingering tendrils of darkness. He could not help, for a moment, admiring the scene there portrayed. Deer bounded from a glen, a brook in relief before the trees. Just as he remembered them from his first moments in this world.

“For you,” he said, stepping closer to hand Enyo the box. “For showing me spring.”

Enyo’s fingers closed around the box, and she lifted it up, inspecting the carvings. For a long time, she was silent, and then she smiled. “I nearly caught those deer before you showed up. It was a good hunt.” She flipped the lid open, and her smile turned savage.

Sitting as pretty as a sunrise in the center of the box was a massive pearl. It was a perfect sphere, incandescent and glossy as if just brought out of the sea. Her image, distorted and pale, reflected on the surface of the prize.

“You stole Tha’et’s little trinket?” she asked, tone delighted. She plucked the pearl up in her fist, letting it balance on her palm.

With Enyo smiling down at the pretty thing, Va'al leaned back and grinned. It had been excellently clever. “With Tha’et’s little sky priests darting through his temple to simper and run errands, it was easy to get in. I threw on one of those ridiculous blue robes, convinced a few minds that I had every right to be there, then slipped it into my pocket and disappeared into the dark.”

Laughably easy. And Tha’et thought himself so high above the rest of them. He needed to be taken a step down.

“And you brought it to me?” Enyo’s voice had taken on a nearly deep, purring quality. She looked pleased.

“Of course,” Va'al drawled, sensing her change in mood. He took a step closer, pressing his opening. “There is no one who more deserves the moon’s treasures.”

He felt the same wild thrill at being this close to her that he had upon first stepping into the world of Illygad. A rush of freedom. She brought the massive pearl to her lips, rubbing the smooth surface over them and then over her chin and throat—like a wild cat, butting her jaw against tree trunks and bushes. Claiming ownership.

Enyo’s gaze flickered over Va'al’s face, and she, for once, stepped closer too. Closing the distance between them. “It smells like summer rain.” She eased closer again, a hair's breadth between them now. Slowly, Enyo turned her face up towards Va'al, her throat and neck exposed. She was stronger and more dangerous, but smaller in stature. She practically looked as a fawn might, large eyes, sweet words. Nearly docile.

Was it a trick?

Even if it were, Va'al was going to take the gamble. He always took the gamble.

“You are more beautiful than summer rain. Wilder than a mountain blizzard.” He bent down so that their faces were nearly touching, leaning into the charged feeling between them. Va'al knew Enyo wanted him too, knew that