Chapter 26
Tyche
It didn’t take a genius to see that Shey and Adrian needed to say things to each other without Tyche being able to hear them. State secrets. Covert plans.
Okay, so it was likely that Adrian was itching to whisper about the crazy god who claimed he could manipulate luck.
Not that Tyche could blame Adrian. If the dragon at his side hadn’t mentioned that Tyche was a god, he wouldn’t have believed a single word Tyche had said.
As it was, Tyche was willing to bet that Adrian believed only every fifth word Tyche spoke.
And for once, everything had been the truth.
Mostly.
He might have left out the part where manipulating a person’s luck was exhausting or that pulling bits of luck out of the air was troublesome because it created a luck vacuum in that area, which almost always resulted in bad things happening.
They didn’t need all the messy details. The important thing was that they understood he couldn’t churn out endless amounts of good luck for them to use to take over the world. That was pure nonsense.
It didn’t take him long to walk away from their group and follow the sound of rushing water tumbling across worn rocks to find a clear, cold stream wandering along a shallow bed.
He moved carefully, making sure that he wasn’t about to startle some wild animal that had stopped by for a drink. That would be his luck entirely.
Escape after months of imprisonment, meet a dragon, and get his face torn off by a mountain lion.
That was the other thing he hadn’t stressed. Just because he was the God of Luck didn’t mean that he had good luck. Fuck, Tyche would be the first to admit that his luck was rather abysmal.
He pushed through the tall grass and stepped onto the rocks at the water’s edge.
It didn’t look as if the stream was more than two or three feet deep, but as he stuck his hands into it, he discovered it was icy cold.
He yelped and jerked his hands out of the water.
Did he want to wash off that badly? Not really.
It was more to give Adrian, Haru, and Shey some time to talk without him there.
Yet, since he was there, he might as well try to stink a little less than an old-fashioned butcher shop.
He clenched his teeth and scrubbed his hands together in the cold water.
He picked the blood out from under his short fingernails, trying not to think about what he’d done to get it worked so far under there.
Afterward, he splashed water onto his face and shoved back his wet hair, slicking it from his face while cold droplets ran down his neck.
This wasn’t so bad. He’d roughed it in the wild for plenty of years with relative ease.
If he had to, he could do it again. At least until this nonsense with Ruben and Damardor blew over.
What was a few decades to a god? As long as someone wasn’t stabbing him or cutting his head off, he couldn’t die of sickness or old age.
Time marched on forever for him, as far as he knew.
However, thoughts of living alone out in the woods, hidden away from all human contact, felt too similar to the prison he’d just escaped.
He might not have friends, but he had enjoyed his regular interactions with humans.
They were funny, and he felt a secret joy at watching their reactions to his fortune-telling efforts.
He’d made a fun show of reading tea leaves or tossing tiles he’d carved from soft rocks or even old bones, though he didn’t tell anyone about that part.
And maybe he wasn’t ready to say good-bye to Shey.
The man had been his constant companion for weeks.
He should have been annoyed with Shey’s entire existence by now, but he wasn’t.
If anything, being able to see his face while they talked, to take in his full reactions had become an addictive thing.
It wasn’t enough to hear him laugh. He had to see the corners of his eyes crinkle up and the way his head cocked to the side as he listened to Tyche.
The man gave his full attention, as if whatever stupid nonsense Tyche was spouting was the most important thing in all the world.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Trouble clung to Shey like a second skin. It followed him as if it were his shadow. Sure, Shey had a good amount of good luck to act as a buffer, but that didn’t extend to those around him. And no matter how good a person’s luck was, it always turned bad eventually.
Common sense said he should run away from Shey.
But…
There was a rustle in the grass behind him, and Tyche turned to find that the dragon had approached.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Tyche jumped up and tried to backpedal away from Haru, putting more space between them, but he only ended up stepping right into the stream. The cold water soaked through his worn shoes and pants. He hissed and tensed up, trying to push aside the frigid distraction to focus on the bigger threat.
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Haru said, but there was no missing the enormous grin on his face. Maybe he hadn’t meant to, but he was clearly enjoying the result.
“Yeah, well. No problem. As long as you’re amused.”
Haru’s smile dimmed, and he watched Tyche through slightly narrowed eyes.
He was a tall, handsome man in this form, but still a touch shorter than Shey.
He had extraordinarily long, straight black hair and fine, pale skin.
But most of all, there was a deep hum of power that emanated from him that was unmissable.
Unless you were human. However, it seemed as if Adrian still reacted to it at times.
It was understandable why Tula and some of the other gods had wanted to control dragons.
The powers of gods—even the major ones—were limited to a specific area.
Sure, life magic covered a broad swath for Tula, but she still couldn’t affect time or cause fires. She couldn’t stir up a storm like Kaes.
But with dragons, their magic was pure chaos. It was just undiluted energy that, with practice and intense concentration, could be directed into anything. The most popular use, though, was destruction. Who wouldn’t want to have that at their beck and call?
Well, not Tyche, but he at least understood their motivations.
“I truly don’t mean you any harm. Even if you are a god.”
“Sure. Cool. Thanks.” Tyche didn’t believe him for a second.
“I have no memory of the battles that happened between the gods and the dragons,” Haru continued to reassure him. “I don’t blame you for anything.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t there.”
“Clearly. If you had been, you would have been killed.”
“Okay, hurtful,” Tyche grumbled, shooting the dragon a sharp look.
“But am I wrong?”
No, he wasn’t. Tyche had told Shey many times he wasn’t a fighter and he wouldn’t have stood a chance against a dragon. Even his luck would have failed him when faced with a clan of dragons.
Haru took a step closer and extended his hand. “Would you like me to help you out of the water?”
“No, thank you. I’ve got it.” He’d been tempted to move to the other bank, but what was the point?
It’s not like it would help him escape the dragon.
His ego demanded that he try to return to dry land on his own.
However, his clumsy feet betrayed him. He managed two steps before he slipped on a moss-covered rock.
Yet, a powerful hand grabbed his elbow and kept him upright, safe from an icy bath.
He jerked his head around to find a smiling Haru holding him up, while still standing on dry land.
Tyche’s heart hammered, and he couldn’t draw in a single breath.
He could only stare, frozen like a hare trapped by a wolf, waiting to have its guts ripped out.
Without a word, Haru helped him out of the water and released him.
Tyche flopped down, light-headed, just trying to focus on breathing.
His hands trembled as he pulled off his wet shoes and socks.
He hadn’t been there at the war between gods and dragons, but he’d heard some stories.
None of the major gods had died, but quite a few minor ones had flocked to Tula and Kaes, hoping to score some brownie points.
Many, many dragons had died. The giant lizards were known for having long lives and long memories.
Those deaths would never be forgotten. Tyche had always thought he would carry the burden of that war because he was a god.
Yet, Haru appeared not to blame him for those events.
To his shock, Haru sat next to him, seeming content to watch the stream flow by as Tyche tried to wring the water out of his shoes and socks.
“It is interesting. I have not been in these lands all that long, but I have already encountered two gods,” Haru began.
“Two?”
Haru’s smooth brow furrowed, his prominent dark eyebrows slashing toward the bridge of his nose. “No, you’re right. Three.”
“I’m still confused. Who have you encountered besides me?”
“First, there is my cousin. Tula, Caris, Kaes, Nyx, and Lore assisted him in becoming a god so that he could defeat Zyros. He said that he has become the new God of Hope.”
A small smile teased the corners of his mouth. It sounded like a pretty title, but Tyche did not envy him for it. It also sounded like an enormous weight.
“His name is Caelan, right?” Tyche shook his head as he peeled off his other sock. “I’ve never met him. It’s been a very long time since I last passed through Erya. Centuries, probably. Those lands were always a favorite of Tula, and I preferred to give her a wide berth.”
“There is you. I also saw the remains of the one you called Yesuntei.” His voice softened on her name. “I’m sorry for your loss. She was a good friend?”