Chapter 29 When Gods Clash
Emrys
When Gods Clash
My timing was perfect.
We would arrive in Paris two days before the Equinox, when the Surge at the ley line nexus would reach its peak. Its energy would be enough to reclaim what the little thief had stolen from me.
I watched her bite into a sandwich like someone who hadn’t eaten in days. She was too thin—fragile in that way mortals get when they’ve been deprived of food. Rage flared beneath my ribs. Had it been Vexley or that sadistic brother of hers who’d denied her food?
When all this was over, I’d pay them both a visit and teach them how to treat a lady.
But for now, I had time. All I had to do was get her to the Surge—alive.
I looked at the waves beyond the window. The undyne would come soon. I could sense her stirring. Part of me was intrigued. I’d always had a weakness for curses, especially the old blood-bound ones tangled with myth and ruin. And Daphne’s was shaping up to be a masterpiece.
But fascination gave way to something sharper. The unknown was after her, and something primal in me didn’t like it. I was ready to bare my teeth.
When I turned back to Daphne, I froze.
Her seat was empty. Her sandwich lay half-eaten on the floor. The ferry shuddered beneath us. Gulls shrieked. The other passengers murmured, restless.
I bolted from the cabin, cursing my carelessness. I never should have let her out of my sight—especially at sea.
Fog blanketed the deck in thick, white layers. Shapes drifted through the mist like ghosts.
“Daphne?” I called.
“She’s at the railing. Behind the bridge,” came Nibble’s voice from above. “It doesn’t look good, Emrys.”
“Then keep your eyes on the sky,” I muttered. “I’ll handle the water.”
The waves were rocking the deck beneath my feet when I found her.
“Daphne!” I called and stepped closer. My breath caught.
She stood on the wrong side of the railing, soaked, balancing on only an inch of slippery steel. One gust of wind and she’d be gone. The spray had soaked her hair, and the wind pulled on her dress like a rabid animal. Her knuckles were bloodless where she gripped the rail.
I reached her just in time to place my hand over hers.
“Daphne! What the hell are you doing?”
She turned slowly, strands of hair plastered to her cheeks. Her eyes grew distant. Haunted.
“She’s calling me. And she’s trying to get inside me. It hurts, Emrys,” she said. The wind instantly stole her words.
I frowned. For a moment, it was like watching Branwyn again.
No. This time, I was here. This time, I’d protect her.
I needed her alive.
“So, she came.”
She nodded. “She says she’s owed a debt, and she means to collect.”
I slipped an arm around her waist, anchoring her to me.
“She won’t,” I growled and pulled her back onto the deck. “Not while I’m here.”
A massive wave slammed into the ship’s side, sloshing icy water across the boards. The sky went black. Wind screamed. From the deep, something rose.
A towering figure shimmered into being—half-kelp, half-woman, dressed in a gown of sea foam and fish scale. Her eyes glowed with old power, and her voice crashed louder than any storm.
“I am owed a debt, Knowledge Keeper! And you are in my domain. By blood and magic—she is mine!”
“Cliodhna,” I breathed—and then laughed. “Of course. I knew those wards couldn’t be taken down by a simple undyne!”
With a snap of my fingers, I swept us to the Dusk Roads—the veiled corridor between worlds, where old gods and immortals walked when the mortal realm grew too loud, winding paths we used to travel across worlds.
The air around me thrummed with recognition. The Renegade’s cursed wards had barred my entrance to this place, and it felt good to be back.
How I missed this silence, this perfectly still purple sky!
Seagulls hung suspended in the air like forgotten ornaments, wings frozen mid-beat. The wind carried no salt, only a faint metallic tang—like blood in water. The waves peeled back from the shore in unnatural silence.
I stepped onto silver-tinged sand, boots sinking slightly. Behind me, the emerald plains shimmered under a hazy, dreamlike light. Flowers bloomed and withered in the same breath. Time did not exist here.
“You cannot have her,” I repeated.
My fingers twitched in anticipation. Too long since I’d been idle. Too much time spent without a proper challenge.
Her smile turned blade-sharp. Here, she stood in her full power—the goddess who made rivers flow and storms tear the skies, who commanded the rain and the sea. Now older. Forgotten, like most of us.
“Oh? Let’s see if you can still bend the magic in the Dusk Roads, Emrys Ravenborn.”
Anticipation shimmered in her stormy eyes. I suppose she was pleased to see me.
My name echoed across the shore like a bell struck in a city of glass. The Roads remembered me. The sand rippled beneath my feet. Light surged in my chest.
She hurled a clumsy ice spell at me. I shifted into ravens—sleek bolts of raw magic—that pierced her chest in a dozen flashes.
The holes sealed quickly, but she gasped. Her anger was taking control.
“Too long have you sat around, dragging fishermen to their watery graves. Too long tormenting this woman. Tell me, Clio—how did a simple girl capture a goddess?”
I shifted, wings outstretched above the still clouds that smelled faintly of violets.
She hissed and summoned a pillar of muddy water, but again she was too slow. Shards of coral, fish bones, and long-forgotten anchor chains rose like a tower of drowned vengeance. The mass missed me and crashed into the glowing grass with a thundering splash.
“I’ll tell you how this ends, old friend. The ferry is under my protection until we reach land. You cannot have Daphne—or any of the mortals aboard.”
Another spell. I dodged.
Careful now. I reminded myself, reining in my desire to destroy.
It was too easy to lose myself in battle. Power surged through me like a tide, every cell thrumming with bloodlust. It would be easy to let go.
But Daphne was waiting—alone and afraid on that ship, shaken by the waves.
I couldn’t lose myself. Not now.
“I was… promised!” Clio snarled, and silver blades of ice whistled through the air. One grazed my calf.
“You were promised centuries ago. If you want your claim, go get her brother. You’d be doing us all a favor.”
“I am not known for favors, Emrys.” Her voice cracked with fury.
I smirked. Maybe that’s why I liked her best of the Old Ones. Clio was untamable. She was the storm.
Her next move was predictable. She conjured a tornado. I traced silencing runes in the air and sent them toward her—molten gold in the air. The cyclone unraveled into rags of mist.
“Is that all you have, old friend?” My voice sounded bitter. She had once been worshipped. Priests carved her name into stone, begged her for safe tides. Now, she was barely more than a memory. “We all fade. We all die. But tell me one thing—how did she capture you, Clio?”
She fought the spell binding her magic. I drew more sigils in the perfumed air until she was howling. The echo of my spell shook the island.
“There is something about her,” she spat. “Release me. Now.”
I landed before her, shadows curling around my boots.
“Remember when we sang the storm into silence, Clio? When the world was young?”
She stilled.
“For those times, I’ll spare you. But harm her again, and I won’t be so kind.”
The lavender sky darkened. The wind screamed. Clio thrashed against the bind.
“It’ll hold until we reach land.”
She cursed in every tongue I knew.
“I see those sailors you drowned taught you something,” I said with a smirk—and vanished.
The soaked floorboards of the ferry slammed against my back.
I was weary. Magic didn’t come easily anymore. With part of my power tangled inside Daphne, casting was a chore. I had to be cautious. My magic drew eyes.
“Emrys!”
Daphne knelt beside me, panic twisting her face. “What happened? Where did you go? She’s gone! Look!”
The storm had passed. A rainbow arched across the tattered clouds.
Her eyes dropped to my leg, where blood stained the fabric.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered. A crease formed between her brows. “Let me take care of it.”
Before I could stop her, she tore the lace from her sleeve and wrapped it around my leg. Her fingers trembled—but they were gentle.
When she finished, she didn’t move away. Her bloodied fingers lingered on my leg. She looked at me and smiled.
“Better?”
I should’ve pulled away. Should’ve told her the wound had already healed. That I was fine.
Instead, I chuckled.
The warmth in my chest wouldn’t let me speak the truth.
“Much better,” I said. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”