Chapter 23
Tyche
Alow groan trickled past Tyche’s parted lips, and he cracked his eyes open.
The first thing that registered in his mind wasn’t the light stabbing his eyes, but the loud birdsong.
How long had it been since he’d last heard the birds singing to him?
He rubbed gritty eyes and pushed into a sitting position, dirt and rocks biting into his palm.
Blinking, the world slowly came into focus.
Gone were the white prison walls and gray bars.
A green forest stretched out in front of him, while bright golden sunlight broke through the leaves to warm his face.
Everything smelled green and fresh, washed clean by the summer rain.
He was free.
He was fucking free at last.
A broken sob lodged in his throat, and he rubbed at his stinging eyes again.
He’d been in bad situations in the past and had always gotten out.
While trapped in that hellhole, he’d been sure that he’d escape.
But it had taken so long. What little hope he’d possessed had been worn to a tiny, angry nub.
“Good morning.”
Tyche’s head swung around and he stared at the man who’d made his escape possible.
“You’re still here.”
The words escaped him before he could get his brain working, but he couldn’t hide his surprise.
He’d expected Shawn to leave him behind while he slept.
There was no benefit in keeping Tyche at his side.
He wasn’t a fighter and didn’t have any hidden skills that would enable them to get out of this forest faster.
If anything, he was likely to slow Shawn down.
A grin broke across Shawn’s face, and he shook his head, looking as if he were laughing at Tyche.
Or should he call him Shey? That was what Yesuntei had called him. Not that it mattered all that much.
“You thought I’d leave you?”
Tyche shrugged one shoulder as he tried to push to his feet.
Pain raced through all his limbs and back, sending him to his ass.
They’d raced through the rain most of the day, the storm hounding their every step.
Their goal had been to put as much distance between them and the facility full of armed guards.
It was near sunset when the rain stopped and they stumbled across this cave.
It wasn’t deep. Just enough to offer shelter from the rain if it started again and cover if the guards were searching for them through the night.
But it also meant sleeping on the cold, hard, damp ground.
“Well, the agreement was to help each other escape the building. You had no obligation to protect my ass after we got out of there. Besides, we both know I’ll slow you down.”
Tyche twisted to the left and then to the right, cracking his spine and loosening up stiff muscles.
“Maybe I’m keeping you because I find you amusing.”
Tyche glared, and a low chuckle tumbled from his companion.
He leaned against the opposite wall, his dark clothes stained with blood and mud.
His pale hair was a long, loose mess, but his face was relaxed, and that made him so damn handsome.
The few times he’d seen Shey’s face, it had been full of harsh lines and angles, pulled tight by rage and frustration.
But for the first time, he seemed almost at peace.
Even the long scars on the left side of his face didn’t detract from his beauty.
“Gods, I’d kill for a cup of coffee,” Tyche announced with a heavy sigh.
Shey threw his head back, his deep belly laugh echoing through the cave. Birds cried and took to the air, rattling the tree limbs as they launched skyward.
“I was sure that was going to be your first words when you woke up.”
“Pfft. Whatever. Nothing is still better than the swill they served us,” Tyche muttered. He’d even consider selling Shey for a cup of the good stuff. Consider. He wouldn’t do it, but he’d at least think about it.
Tyche looked at his hands and frowned. The constant rainfall had washed the blood away long ago, but he could still find dried bits stuck under his fingernails.
Yesuntei.
She shouldn’t have died that way. He shouldn’t have had to leave her there.
She deserved to be handed over to her sister, assuming Cirina was still alive.
Part of him couldn’t imagine a world where Yesuntei could be captured and Cirina was alive somewhere.
He would have thought that Cirina would die before anything happened to her sister.
But the world was changing and moving in directions he couldn’t predict. Most of the old gods were dead, and new ones were being born. The best he could do was find a place to hide and escape all notice. It’s what Yesuntei should have done.
Tyche picked at the dried blood under his fingernails, all too keenly aware of the ball of power warm and pulsing in his pocket.
It was something all the gods possessed.
Like a sarira, the pearl-like object was the condensed form of their powers.
It was how their powers could be stolen in death.
It was how Zyros rose to power. She spent years hunting and killing hundreds of minor gods, stealing their powers so that she had enough to rival even Tula.
Most tried to fight her. Why not? She was human, and they were gods.
But she had been a powerful fighter with Tula and the other major gods whispering in her ear.
It was only too late that many of them realized that their best option was to hide. Disappear. Blend in with the humans and live quiet, mundane lives.
Tyche didn’t want Yesuntei’s power. He barely wanted his own. He couldn’t get rid of this pearl fast enough, but it wasn’t like he could chuck it into the river. Yesuntei deserved better than that. The one place that could protect it was her shrine in Brightspire.
“I’m sorry about Yesuntei,” Shawn murmured. “She seemed like a sweet, kind person. I wish we could have saved her too.”
Tyche grunted. “Yes. She was a sweet person. It wasn’t in her nature to hurt people. Not intentionally, at least. It…it was complicated. I’ve known…” He paused and frowned, his fists tightening into balls. “I knew her for a long time.
He shook his head and shoved against the ground, pushing until he staggered to his feet like a newborn deer. Everything ached, but he felt more in control standing. “So, what am I supposed to call you? Is it Shawn? Teitei called you Shey at the end.”
“Shey is fine with me.” He raised a brow and smirked. “And you’re Tyche?”
“Yes, but I don’t mind Ty.”
The silence stretched, becoming loaded with unsaid things and questions begging to be asked. It was easier to hide things in the prison. There were more important things—like survival—on their minds. Secrecy became the key to that survival.
Yet, they were free of the prison, and survival felt a little more likely. Tyche was already putting some pieces together about the man still sitting in the cave entrance, but he struggled to believe some of the answers he was coming up with. He wanted to hear the words from Shey’s mouth.
Of course, asking questions of Shey meant being willing to answer some of Shey’s questions. And it was likely that he would need to answer them honestly. He liked to tease Shey about being simple and slow, but that was only because he was sure the man was quite smart.
Tyche snapped first. The tension was killing him, and he was bad at reading people. “So…we’re just not going to talk about any of the weird shit that happened in those last few days in the prison?”
Shey smirked and rose to his feet. He took a couple of steps closer, and Tyche struggled not to tense or edge away. He held his ground against the giant.
Why were they always so tall?
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly.”
Shey hummed and nodded. He stared out at the forest spread out in front of them. “I thought it could wait a while. We have to figure out our next steps anyway.” He glanced over at Tyche. “You don’t have a clue as to where we are, do you?”
“Not even a little. Damardor is a safe bet, but that’s about it.”
One corner of Shey’s mouth teased higher. “You don’t have magic for that?”
“Not even a crumb.”
Tyche watched Shey out of the corner of his eye, weighing the man.
He managed to almost always have this casual, relaxed demeanor with a playful quip on the tip of his tongue, but there was an undercurrent of ruthlessness and coldness about him that was more than a bit frightening.
Chatting with Shey put him at ease, made him want to lower his defenses, but that felt like the most dangerous thing in the world. Could Shey really be trusted?
No.
Tyche hadn’t survived this long by trusting others. He didn’t trust anyone.
But he wanted to trust Shey.
He stayed with Tyche through the night when he didn’t have to. He protected Tyche when he could have left him behind, left him to die.
“I think we should stick together,” Shey announced.
Tyche frowned. “You intend to destroy this group aimlessly killing people accused of having magic.” It should have been a question, but Shey didn’t seem the type to stand by and let innocent people get killed.
“I do.” Those two words were whispered but held a will of steel. Shey didn’t mean to retreat. He’d survived weeks of captivity and torture, but he was ready to head straight back into the lion’s den.
The idea of going with him was tempting. He preferred to avoid all fights, but he owed it to Yesuntei to uncover what the hell was going on. She deserved justice.
But that wasn’t his only fear.
His bigger one was that someone was hunting gods yet again. Tyche had lived through this once already. He refused to see the rise of yet another Zyros.
Of course, the smarter choice was to go to Brightspire and deposit Yesuntei’s powers there before someone could kill him and gain both his and Yesuntei’s powers.
A large, firm hand landed on Tyche’s shoulder and squeezed. Tyche yelped and jumped to his right. He twisted around with his fists raised to find Shey staring at him with a shocked expression, his hand still hanging in the air where it had been on Tyche’s shoulder.
“Oh, yeah,” Tyche muttered. Heat suffused his cheeks, and he lowered his fists. “Sorry. You surprised me. I’m used to you being a voice and a thick wall between us.” He lifted a finger and swirled it in the air toward Shey’s head. “I’m still adjusting to you having a face, too.”
Shey’s bark of laughter echoed through the forest, scaring birds a second time. Tyche rolled his eyes at himself and edged closer to the human. His finger extended, he poked Shey’s stomach and chest.
“Huh. You are real. I was in that prison so long; I was half convinced you were a hallucination.”
“No, you weren’t.”
Tyche grinned and shook his head. Maybe he also liked that Shey had no problem seeing through his bullshit. “No, I wasn’t.”
Shey lifted his hand and held it there, allowing Tyche to watch its very slow descent until it landed on Tyche’s shoulder. His heart fluttered as Shey squeezed, and his breath caught in his throat. So silly.
“All I was going to say was that we shouldn’t worry about long-term plans for now. Our focus should be on finding a town. Food. A dry place to sleep.”
“Coffee,” Tyche moaned.
Shey chuckled. “Yes, good coffee would be nice too. After that, we can figure out where to go next and how to destroy the people who hurt Yesuntei and all the others.”
“These are very good plans. Just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
Tyche grabbed the front of his blood- and dirt-encrusted shirt, holding it out from his body. “Who the hell is going to take us in looking like a pair of escaped psychopaths on a killing spree?”
Shey lifted the hand from Tyche’s shoulder, and Tyche immediately missed the warmth and weight of his touch. Shey waved his hand at Tyche. “Details. We’ll figure that out when the time comes. Let’s get out of this forest first.”
Preferably before Scarella and her minions pulled their heads out of their asses and chased them down…