The Goddess Legacy
Page 85
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“My lord,” said the lead guard, and the others ushered me forward. “We have found the scoundrel who led the attack this morning.”
The earl paled. “And you have brought him here bound by nothing more than rope?”
The guard hesitated. “That was all we had, my lord. We subdued him, and he is compliant.”
“Are you willing to stake your life on it?” growled the earl, and the guard said nothing. “Come closer into the light, boy. You are a boy, are you not? Certainly not old enough to yet be considered a man.”
Please. I looked Tuck’s age or older. This was some sort of game, something to unsteady me, but he wasn’t going to win. I was older than the wood he sat on. Older than the rock his castle was built with. But I moved forward anyway, eager to get closer to Tuck. The guards sidestepped me, clearly still afraid despite their earl’s show of bravery. Smart.
“What are you called?” said the earl, peering down at me. I glanced at Tuck, who was watching me with red-rimmed eyes.
I did my best. I pushed the thought silently into her mind, and she leaned away from me. Damn. “I’m called James. And you?”
He scoffed, but I held his stare, and slowly the amusement drained from his face. “I am your lord and ruler of this land. That is all you must concern yourself with. How did you fall in with these children?”
“According to you, I’m a child myself,” I said with as much mock innocence as I could muster. Living with Aphrodite for eons came in handy, after all. “Clearly it’s natural for children to band together when no one else will help them.”
“Do not be smart with me, boy,” he snarled. “You will answer my questions, or I will assume your guilt and have you hanged by morning. Is that what you want?”
I shrugged. “I don’t really care.”
The earl’s face turned a strange shade of purple I’d never seen on a human being before. “And your friends? Do you care if they are hanged?”
“I care enough to promise you that if any harm comes to them because of something you do, I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your short life.”
He gripped the arms of his so-called throne. “Guards! Search them for my pendant.”
As soon as the nearest guard put his hands on Tuck, she let out a sound I’d only ever heard from a wild animal. Her elbow connected with the guard’s face, and he hollered, blood gushing from his nose.
Half a dozen guards drew their swords, and Tuck stilled. She glared up at the earl though, and he clapped his hands together with glee.
“Dear, dear Laurel, you always did have a flair for the dramatic,” he said with a chuckle, and I blinked. Who was Laurel?
Tuck tensed, her eyes narrowing into slits. “Don’t call me that.”
“And why not?” said the earl with a twisted smile. Clearly he was enjoying this. “It is your name. I remember giving it to you.”
Wait. I glanced at Tuck, who kept her focus glued to the earl, even though she had to know I was watching her. Unless earls had a habit of naming every child in their village…
He’s your father?
The corners of Tuck’s mouth turned downward, and she gave a slight, barely perceptible nod. Perfect. Could’ve known that sooner, but at least now I knew he wouldn’t actually carry out his threat to execute them. Or Tuck, at least. Abhorrent as he was, he wouldn’t kill his own daughter.
“You will stand still while the guards search you,” said the earl, and he gestured toward the boys. “Or my guards will run your friends through with a sword. Is that understood?”
Tuck didn’t move. She had to have the pendant on her—she might have let it drop in the woods, knowing the earl would never be able to find it, but I doubted it. Not when the pendant meant so much to her.
Where was it? Closing my eyes, I reached out for it, and—
In her shoe. How the hell had she managed to get it in there without me noticing? Didn’t matter. As the guards approached her, warier this time, I mentally took hold of it. It was strangely warm, connected to Tuck as it was, and while one brave guard with trembling hands patted me down, I vanished it.
Not an easy trick, and not something I did lightly. But as mad as the earl would be when his search turned up nothing, Tuck would be even worse off if the pendant returned to her father.
She must have felt the pendant disappear, because she finally looked at me, a question in her eyes. If she couldn’t give me the truth, then I didn’t owe it to her, either. At least not yet.
When the guards turned up empty-handed, having searched all of us, the earl stood. “I will find it,” he growled.
“Are you sure about that?” said Tuck with more sass than was wise, all things considered. The earl’s face turned red again, and he slammed his fist down on the table.
“I am sure enough that if you do not produce the pendant or give us adequate information to find it by sunup, I will kill each of your friends. And if you do not tell me by sundown, I will kill you.”
She scoffed, but there was fear in her voice, as well. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“You won’t,” I interjected. “Else you’ll be the next to die.”
Silence. The earl leaned forward against the table, and if he could’ve set me on fire through hatred alone, I was pretty damn sure I would’ve been ash by now. “And you,” he murmured in a poisonous voice. “You will be the first to die.”
The earl paled. “And you have brought him here bound by nothing more than rope?”
The guard hesitated. “That was all we had, my lord. We subdued him, and he is compliant.”
“Are you willing to stake your life on it?” growled the earl, and the guard said nothing. “Come closer into the light, boy. You are a boy, are you not? Certainly not old enough to yet be considered a man.”
Please. I looked Tuck’s age or older. This was some sort of game, something to unsteady me, but he wasn’t going to win. I was older than the wood he sat on. Older than the rock his castle was built with. But I moved forward anyway, eager to get closer to Tuck. The guards sidestepped me, clearly still afraid despite their earl’s show of bravery. Smart.
“What are you called?” said the earl, peering down at me. I glanced at Tuck, who was watching me with red-rimmed eyes.
I did my best. I pushed the thought silently into her mind, and she leaned away from me. Damn. “I’m called James. And you?”
He scoffed, but I held his stare, and slowly the amusement drained from his face. “I am your lord and ruler of this land. That is all you must concern yourself with. How did you fall in with these children?”
“According to you, I’m a child myself,” I said with as much mock innocence as I could muster. Living with Aphrodite for eons came in handy, after all. “Clearly it’s natural for children to band together when no one else will help them.”
“Do not be smart with me, boy,” he snarled. “You will answer my questions, or I will assume your guilt and have you hanged by morning. Is that what you want?”
I shrugged. “I don’t really care.”
The earl’s face turned a strange shade of purple I’d never seen on a human being before. “And your friends? Do you care if they are hanged?”
“I care enough to promise you that if any harm comes to them because of something you do, I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your short life.”
He gripped the arms of his so-called throne. “Guards! Search them for my pendant.”
As soon as the nearest guard put his hands on Tuck, she let out a sound I’d only ever heard from a wild animal. Her elbow connected with the guard’s face, and he hollered, blood gushing from his nose.
Half a dozen guards drew their swords, and Tuck stilled. She glared up at the earl though, and he clapped his hands together with glee.
“Dear, dear Laurel, you always did have a flair for the dramatic,” he said with a chuckle, and I blinked. Who was Laurel?
Tuck tensed, her eyes narrowing into slits. “Don’t call me that.”
“And why not?” said the earl with a twisted smile. Clearly he was enjoying this. “It is your name. I remember giving it to you.”
Wait. I glanced at Tuck, who kept her focus glued to the earl, even though she had to know I was watching her. Unless earls had a habit of naming every child in their village…
He’s your father?
The corners of Tuck’s mouth turned downward, and she gave a slight, barely perceptible nod. Perfect. Could’ve known that sooner, but at least now I knew he wouldn’t actually carry out his threat to execute them. Or Tuck, at least. Abhorrent as he was, he wouldn’t kill his own daughter.
“You will stand still while the guards search you,” said the earl, and he gestured toward the boys. “Or my guards will run your friends through with a sword. Is that understood?”
Tuck didn’t move. She had to have the pendant on her—she might have let it drop in the woods, knowing the earl would never be able to find it, but I doubted it. Not when the pendant meant so much to her.
Where was it? Closing my eyes, I reached out for it, and—
In her shoe. How the hell had she managed to get it in there without me noticing? Didn’t matter. As the guards approached her, warier this time, I mentally took hold of it. It was strangely warm, connected to Tuck as it was, and while one brave guard with trembling hands patted me down, I vanished it.
Not an easy trick, and not something I did lightly. But as mad as the earl would be when his search turned up nothing, Tuck would be even worse off if the pendant returned to her father.
She must have felt the pendant disappear, because she finally looked at me, a question in her eyes. If she couldn’t give me the truth, then I didn’t owe it to her, either. At least not yet.
When the guards turned up empty-handed, having searched all of us, the earl stood. “I will find it,” he growled.
“Are you sure about that?” said Tuck with more sass than was wise, all things considered. The earl’s face turned red again, and he slammed his fist down on the table.
“I am sure enough that if you do not produce the pendant or give us adequate information to find it by sunup, I will kill each of your friends. And if you do not tell me by sundown, I will kill you.”
She scoffed, but there was fear in her voice, as well. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“You won’t,” I interjected. “Else you’ll be the next to die.”
Silence. The earl leaned forward against the table, and if he could’ve set me on fire through hatred alone, I was pretty damn sure I would’ve been ash by now. “And you,” he murmured in a poisonous voice. “You will be the first to die.”
