Chapter 4
Elysia stared at the inside of her right forearm. She hadn’t noticed it yesterday after drinking from the chalice while in her long-sleeved sweater, but today a new mark stared back at her. A permanent reminder of how foolish it was to make deals with gods.
Thanks to her study of banned botany books back in Kava, she knew it was asphodel and narcissus poking out of the strange iron helm on her skin.
The skull and dice Aidan had originally placed on her body for travel was now gone, replaced by tiny poplar leaves, which trailed down the shell of her ear.
A deadened anxiety flattened her mood the longer she stared.
Elysia flexed her fingers, twisting her arm as she examined the design.
It was both brutal and beautiful. She’d chosen this—chosen to help her people, to push back against the decay of her kingdom.
But all she saw when she looked at the flora on her skin was deceit, she’d tasted it the second the river water had passed her lips.
She hadn’t meant to read him, but his relief had been so palpable it would have been impossible for her not to notice anything. Especially when his guilt had clamped down on her like a vise. Aidan, god of the dead, was telling the truth, but not the whole truth.
Fed up with staring at her own skin, she exited her bedroom and silently stormed through the halls. Her sock-clad feet struck down heavily on the deep walnut floorboards. Her mood effused into the air around her—she didn’t like being tricked, and the god of the dead was about to find out.
She was moving so fast she almost didn’t see him standing there in the kitchen, rummaging through the silverware drawer. Turning around, he held up a bowl of savory porridge and a spoon.
“Hungry?”
She stared at him incredulously. “No, I am not hungry.”
He pulled out a stool and sat down at the slate counter to eat.
He took a mouthful and watched her, seemingly unbothered.
Another bite disappeared and she seethed, fixing her gaze on the kitchen behind him as she tried to rein in her temper.
Mid-toned wooden cupboards with smoky glass overtook the wall, built around an industrial-sized cooking range.
Unsurprisingly, the cupboards did nothing to calm her.
Aidan’s spoon rested against his bowl like he was waiting.
Fine. Holding out her wrist like it was evidence of a crime, she spoke her question as an accusation. “Did you know?” She kicked away the fearful part of her brain that reminded her this was a god. God or not, she couldn’t spend her time cowering.
His expression cleared. “Deals, oaths, magical promises—they always leave a mark. I assumed you knew.”
She looked at him like he was dumb. “I grew up in Kava. The place with no magic.”
“Or you didn’t.” One scarred hand rubbed the back of his neck before bracing on his thigh. The god of the dead was unperturbed. “If you’re ever unsure of something, ask. Magic has always been an inherent part of my life.”
Dropping his spoon with a clink and pushing back the bowl, Aidan strode over to where she was still haunting the doorway. He shoved up the sleeve of his black sweater and held his arm out for her inspection. Matching asphodel and narcissus wound up around a small flaming torch.
“I see,” she retorted. It was just lovely being completely unaware of what was common knowledge to everyone else.
Tugging his sweater back into place, Aidan deftly plucked her rigid arm away from her body, sliding her sleeve up until he could see all of the flowers and helm decorating her skin.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low. “The flowers are native to the Deathlands. One of my siblings brought them to your realm.”
Elysia hastily pulled her wrist out of his grasp. His eyes were doing that damn flame thing again, and she didn’t want him to feel her pulse rioting beneath his fingers and get the wrong idea. With her arms wrapped securely around her body, she stared him down.
“I don’t care that they’re beautiful. I don’t like surprises. And I don’t like lies.”
Curiosity emphasized the sharp edges of his face as he tilted his gaze down toward her.
“I don’t believe I’ve lied to you, but I do have a solution for fewer surprises.
” He returned to the counter, eating his porridge and looking far too patient as he waited for her to give in and ask what he meant.
Annoyed, she drew closer, but remained out of reach. “Lies, omissions, same thing. But go on.”
“Lessons. With me.” Finished eating, he placed his bowl in the sink, and turned to lean back against the dark slate counter. Staring at her, he pushed up both sleeves and folded his arms.
She narrowed her eyes. It was like he was trying to put on a show—the forearms, the soft sweater that she’d like to steal, and how it molded perfectly over his wide shoulders. His expression didn’t waver. Calm, patient, and ready to schedule all her time locked in a room with him.
“No.”
“You’re woefully uneducated on all things magic and know nothing about the Deathlands. Your lack of knowledge is dangerous and needs to be remedied.”
All true. Still, she said nothing.
His frustration snagged her attention with a jerk behind her navel. “You do realize you’ll be working with me indefinitely as you search for the talisman.”
“I can do it myself,” she gritted out.
He ignored her. “You wanted all my resources, and I am one of those resources. Use me,” he taunted, his burning cobalt gaze settling on her. She wanted to punch him. The corner of his mouth lifted like he knew she wouldn’t dare.
Fuck. She needed to get a grip. Immediately.
Likely sensing her imminent fold, Aidan slowly walked over. She balked, backing up against the nearest counter. “What? What are you doing?”
Stopping right in front of her, his low voice gained an edge of mirth. “Calm down.” Without touching her face, he brought his fingers close to her skin, gesturing for her to turn her chin, but she didn’t move.
Inches apart, she could smell traces of bergamot and citrus mixing pleasantly with the warmth of his skin. Trapped and addled by his scent, she held still. His mouth curved all the way up now. “Turn. I want to see.”
A rush of blood flooded her face as she complied.
Hands on either side of the counter, their thighs brushed as he studied the leaves trailing down her ear. Elysia barely breathed as his perfectly combed yet somehow perpetually misbehaving hair fell out of place, tickling her skin.
“First lesson. Magic is sentient and impossible to understand. The skull and dice is the mark that usually appears when I make business dealings.” His thumb grazed the shell of her ear, and she closed her eyes. “This isn’t from me. The fates answered my petition. A little gift, I suppose.”
“A gift?” The words barely passed her lips. He was so close. Too close.
“Poplars grow near the water here, much like in the mortal realm. A long time ago, mortals would fall through their waters into mine. It seems they were feeling traditional.”
“You mean to say I can travel?” Excitement cut through her nerves—traveling would make her work so much easier.
“You’ll need water,” he responded, looking down at her.
Slow understanding took root, her excitement fading. “You’re saying I’ll have to jump into water whenever I need to get back here? What about place to place in the mortal realm?”
Frustration added depth to his usually smooth tone.
“Traveling between realms is an enormous magical toll. There’s a reason it’s practically unheard of for mortals.
The fates gifted you this because it's outside of my skill set, but being who they are… They never make anything easy. I assume any body of water will do for getting back to the Deathlands from the mortal realm. I’ll verify with Maya about traveling from here to there as well as within the mortal realm. ”
“How symbolic,” she muttered. What a pain in the ass it would be to need to find a body of water to escape if necessary. Good thing she’d been getting in and out of tight spots for years, no traveling required. She paused, his comment replaying in her head. “What if Maya trained me?”
Aidan’s response was flat and fast. “No.”
Her eyes grew bigger in exasperation. “You’re right—I don’t know anything about magic, or talismans, or how to go about any of this, but shouldn’t my learning be more important than who teaches me?”
Aidan’s jawline came into focus as it tightened, but just as quickly he rolled his shoulders and offered a compromise.
“If you’re uncomfortable training with me, then you can train with all of us.
Myself, Maya, and Grim. But it is necessary for me to be a part of it—you’ll have duties for the realm. ”
She frowned. She wasn’t sure she’d have time for chores while searching for his talisman.
“Grim?” she questioned. She remembered seeing him during her first visit but hadn’t spoken more than a word to him that day.
He nodded. “Grim and I rule together. He directs the reapers and manages death while I care for the dead and the state of the realm.”
Elysia’s brain broke. “But you’re the only one everyone knows about? The temples, the petitions…”
Aidan appeared pained, which didn’t surprise her given that in the short amount of time she’d been awake he’d yelled no less than five times that he’d be in his office, which was then followed by a slamming door.
He didn’t seem like the social sort, much less someone who would be comfortable being worshipped.
“Yes, I drew the short end of that stick. Nobody ever bothers him.” He looked wistful before his face settled into practiced acceptance.
“Grim’s a god then?”
Aidan resumed his original position on the stool, this time hooking one foot on a rung and drumming his fingers on the counter.
“Correct,” he answered distractedly. His bright blue eyes came back into sharp focus. “Bellia first. To the Bone Temple of Ryspur. You should leave as soon as possible.”