Still, it reached further than I’d imagined.

“Children aren’t wicked,” I said and reached my hand to his, surprised by the way he immediately let them intertwine as though he feared I might otherwise slip away. “Even you have to know that.”

“Oh, little one, if you believe this will go unpunished, then you are mistaken.” He stared at our interwoven fingers. “Very well, I shall ride the lands and rot the children once gossip has calmed. I’ll rot John then, too, if only so I won’t have to hear his name from my wife’s lips ever again. But there is something else you will give me in exchange.” He shifted on the bed, flame of the candle driving out the gray coldness of his eyes, replacing it with something less cutting. “On a moment of my choosing, you will come to me. You will not be allowed to refuse me, and you shall kiss me until your lips are benumbed. You will commence the act we share as man and woman, and see it through until we are both spent, not once denying its pleasure. Deal?”

With a nod, I made a deal with the devil.

Because to him, I had value.

That realization cracked through years of condemnation. As much as I had been worthless to John, what if my value never lay with the man in the first place? What if my purpose had always been to bring rot to those children I’d never been blessed with?

And if the woman who rode with the King of Flesh and Bone had negotiated this much out of him, whatever else might his wife achieve?

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 14

OceanofPDF.com

Ada

After a few hours of restless sleep, Enosh woke me by stroking a finger down the length of my nose as he whispered, “I sense how tired you still are, but we cannot stay much longer.”

Head still fogged, muscles weak with exhaustion, I nodded and sat up. “They formed a mob?”

“Nothing but a handful of fools rallied together by the town’s priest.”

“You saw them?”

He rose and extended his hand to help me to my feet and toward the chamber pot. “Through the eyes of the dead that I’ve posted around the area to keep word from spreading.”

“Good, or every follower of Helfa will be after you, trying to capture you and drag you before the high priest. Every king, every lord, every duke… High Priest Dekalon has their fealty.”

Something I’d once considered justice now proved quite the inconvenience. I couldn’t have others meddle in my plan to get the god to return to his duty. Something I’d considered laughable last night—until I remembered I had all of eternity to get it done.

“Mankind rebelling against a god…” Enosh thumbed the stubble on his chin. “A nasty habit of your kind that springs up every couple of centuries or so, doubting themselves, doubting their beliefs, doubting me.”

I limped over to the washbasin on a table in the corner. “We best avoid the roads.”

“We still need a priest to wed us. Quietly.”

“What does it matter? You have my vow.”

He slipped on his shirt and let his black jacket form around him. “I am indifferent either way—mortal customs or a promise given before a false god—as long as I receive the exact same vow you gave once before.”

I swallowed my sigh and turned to him. “I believe there’s a small temple hidden in the forest not far from here. My father once brought crates of salted fish there.”

“Very well.”

Not even a finger twitched on him as he let thin chips of bone form around me. Row upon alabaster row encapsulated me like fish scales, though matched the flow of fabric, its collar snug and high.

I lifted a brow at him. “Armor?”

Unable to walk down the stairs on my own, he once again picked me up. “A precaution. Such a terrible inconvenience at times, mortality.”

The mumbles grew louder with each descending step. Once downstairs, we faced a room where at least twenty people gathered. They stared at us from unwashed faces, but the scrutiny in their eyes landed heaviest on me.

“Your Grace,” the keeper said, hands nervously pinning graying hair back underneath her wimple. “They came unbidden, no matter how I told them to stay away.”

Pulling me tighter against him, Enosh stepped through the parting crowd. Whispers, pleas, wails, and promises—he ignored them all and walked outside.

Wax from the candlemaker scented the air, the sky above us still gray. A small group of men stood gathered beside our horse, all armed with daggers and the occasional sword. Except for the priest, who clutched the Tome of Helfa to his robed chest as though it would help him.

He made the sign of Helfa—two fingers tapping his forehead before he lifted them heavenward. “In the name of Helfa the Allfather, I hereby demand you surrender yourself to His holy judgment. High Priest Dekalon has long ordered your arrest, so you may stand trial for your crimes committed against this realm.”

Unimpressed, Enosh only lifted me onto the horse’s back. “Leave, and you shall escape with your life.”

Metal hissed when a man unsheathed his sword, giving pause to my next inhale. Clueless idiots, all of them, though I could hardly blame them for their ignorance.

My eyes flicked nervously to those few villagers hiding between merchant stands and hides stretched on frames. Being among this many people with the god was uncharted territory for me—there was just no telling if he would spare them… or kill them all.

Fearing the latter, I addressed the townsfolk, “Listen to his warning, or he’ll—”

“Capture him!” the priest shouted. “And take the woman.”

Fool!

While most men scattered to surround Enosh, one made the mistake of setting his eyes on me. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, wretch?”

With one quick leap, Enosh dug his fingers into the man’s greasy brown hair and yanked him before the gasping crowd. One moment, the god’s other hand was empty and the next, his fingers wrapped around the handle of an alabaster blade.

He stabbed it into the man’s throat.

Bile rose behind my tongue.

The man clasped his hands to his neck. Blood sprayed from the gaps between his fingers with each beat of his heart, forceful at first, but then quickly slowed into trickles. His knees hit the blood-splattered ground with a thud before he collapsed to the side and twitched.

Frozen in shock, everyone stared at Enosh as he held his hand over the corpse and said, “Watch. Watch and see what happens when you cross me.” When the man’s body had only just stilled, Enosh’s voice verged a dark growl. “Rise!”

The man stood in an instant and turned toward Enosh, struggling to lift his head where the blade must have injured sinew and muscle, yet he snarled, “What’ve y-you done?”

“Witchcraft…” the word mumbled from many mouths at once. “Dark magic!”

Enosh tossed the bone blade to the man—who caught it with ease—before he gazed over the crowd. “Seek me out, mortals, and you shall end like him.”

No sooner had Enosh spoken the words did the man thrust the blade into his belly. He stared down at himself, screaming frantically, stabbing himself so many times the air soon reeked of shit. His tattered cotton trews darkened as urine trickled down his legs, pooling by one foot.

Screams, prayers, curses… Chaos descended upon the town as its inhabitants fled into their homes—as did the remaining men, leaving the priest stammering a prayer.

I pressed a finger against my trembling lips as Enosh mounted behind me, my stomach convulsing in a never-ending cramp. I was no whimpering thing who fainted at the sight of blood, but I’d had about enough for one day.

At the horse’s first step, bone chips fell away from around me. They piled on the ground in a cacophony of clinks and clanks, like snow crystals hitting a frozen lake in the depth of winter. What remained was another dress of feathers, a soft yellow this time.