Scorn of the Sky Goddess Page 2

  Though her other daughters averted their gazes, Ariette looked her in the eye. “She must have a goddess stone.”

  After the boy hunter had deflected her bolt, nearly killing her, Madhea knew he had to have used a stone. Had he given it to his sister? Her wings faltered, then angrily buzzed. “Indeed. The stone her brother used to deflect my magic—unless, of course, they have discovered more than one stone.”

  When Ariette broke eye contact for a half a breath, Madhea knew Dianna had more than one stone. What other secrets were they keeping from her?

  She floated down, impatiently tapping her foot on the invisible barrier above their heads. “Who do you think she’ll destroy next?”

  “You, Mother,” Ariette snapped.

  “That’s right. Me.” She fought to keep emotion out of her voice, the sting of her children’s betrayal burning her all over. “All because her deceitful sisters turned her against me.”

  “Mother.” Ariette splayed her arms wide, trembling as she craned her neck toward Madhea. “We can negotiate a truce with Dianna.”

  Her heart lurched when a tear slipped down Ariette’s face. Her sisters sank down behind her, softly sobbing into each other’s arms. Madhea suspected they weren’t crying because they felt remorse at betraying their mother. No, they cried because they feared a slow and painful death.

  “And why should I trust you now?” she taunted in a sing-song voice.

  Ariette fell to her knees, clasping her hands in prayer. “Please, Mother,” she sobbed. “Dianna will listen to us.”

  Madhea flapped backward, scowling at them one last time. “Such a pity you’ll all be dead by the time she gets here.”

  Ariette jumped to her feet, rushing the barrier. “Mother, no!” She pounded the stone wall while her sisters wailed.

  Madhea covered her ears as she flew away, blasting the entrance behind her. She couldn’t bear listening to their cries another moment. Though they deserved nothing less than death for betraying her, her mother’s heart ached to free them. Her life had been empty and dull until the Elements had pollinated her womb, and she’d birthed six beautiful daughters, all created in her image. Her life would be dull once more unless... no, ’twas a fool’s hope that Dianna would harbor anything but animosity toward her mother. She’d already proven her disloyalty by stealing away with Lydra. Though Madhea was loath to destroy the spawn of her memorable night with Rowlen, she had no choice. Dianna must die.

  Chapter One

  A Mother’s Blessing

  Dianna stood beside Simeon in their small fishing vessel, holding tightly to his muscular arm and doing her best to ignore her growing attraction to the dark-skinned sand dweller. Shielding her eyes against the glare of the rising sun, she gaped at the monolith before her, illuminated with prisms of bright light. The dwarf Grim had told her about the great wall his kinsmen had erected around their village by the sea. It was made of thick tree trunks as tall as the giant Gorpat, if she were to stand on her toes and stretch her fingertips to the sky. The wall ran along a rocky cliff that jutted out over the sea like the stern of a ship. Under it, waves crashed against the cliff face with violent force. Beside the cliff was a sandy beach and a shallow lagoon. Steps were carved into the embankment leading from the beach to the fortress.

  Their arrival was heralded by the sound of a powerful horn, low and deep like a dragon’s roar, shaking Dianna to the marrow of her bones. The rest of her party grumbled, sitting up and wiping sleep from their eyes. Her brother Alec had been tucked in the corner of the vessel with the pretty young islander, Mari, sleeping in his arms. No doubt they’d been startled by the horn. Mari gasped and Alec grabbed his blade, stumbling to his knees. Their blue friend Ryne, who’d been stretched out beside them, jumped to his feet with the alacrity of a mountain cat.

  Dianna turned her attention to the wall. Several armed dwarves stood on top of it. Fortunately, their arrows weren’t aimed at Dianna’s party. Hopefully the army had recognized them as friends, not foes. The dragons Lydra and Tan’yi’na dove for fish farther down the shore, out of reach of arrows or cannons, giving Grim time to prepare his kinsmen for their arrival.

  “Magnificent, isn’t it?” Grim called down from his giant daughter’s shoulder. His gray beard blew in the breeze, eyes twinkling like stardust as he smiled up at the fortress and waved to his kinsmen. Gorpat, who was easily eight to ten men in height, waded chest-deep in the water, the lagoon a mere pool for her.

  “I wasn’t expecting the wall to be so high,” Dianna called to the dwarf. The glow from his ruddy cheeks warmed her heart. He was overjoyed to be home. How she longed for that hut she and her brother, Des, shared beneath the shadow of Ice Mountain, though she knew she could never return as long as Madhea lived.

  Grim nodded. “Tall enough to repel Eris’s mightiest waves.”

  “The dwarves need not worry about that now,” Dianna answered, for she’d destroyed the evil Sea Goddess with help from her three magical stones. She patted her heavy pocket, inwardly smiling when warmth flooded her hand. Her companions had been quiet most of the trip. Dianna suspected the stones, which possessed the spirits of her cousins, were talking to each other in a secret language.

  “As long as the other bitch still lives,” Grim grumbled, stroking his beard, “we will always worry.” His red cheeks flushed crimson. “I’m sorry, lass.” He frowned. “I didn’t mean to speak ill of your mother.”

  She shrugged, an uncomfortable ache lancing through her chest. “She’s no mother to me.”

  As they drifted closer to shore, Alec and Ryne grabbed the oars, rowing backward to keep the vessel from slamming into the wall.

  The horn sounded again, and a giant emerged from behind tall trees and stomped down the beach. With a few long strides, he was wading toward them. A boy, from what Dianna could tell, slightly taller than Gorpat, with a much rounder belly, a cleft lip that receded into a flat nose, and one long eyebrow that stretched across the width of his forehead. Standing on the giant’s shoulder was a dwarf. He appeared to be at least a head taller than Grim, with a trimmed beard of solid white, bushy brows to match, and a bulbous gray nose. A crown made of polished silver and glowing gemstones was upon his head. He clutched a gnarled silver staff in one hand and the tip of the giant’s ear in the other. This had to be King Furbald; Grim had told their party of his sovereign during their journey across the ocean.

  The dwarf had spoken often of the dwarf kingdom of Aya-Shay, blessing by the sea. He’d told Dianna about his wife and cousins, but mostly he boasted about the food and wine, which flowed in abundance. A good thing, because over the years the dwarves had also adopted over a dozen giants, raising the monsters as if they were kin.

  “Grim and Gorpat Hogbottom!” King Furbald called as he and his giant waded beside them. “We thought you’d become siren food.”

  Ryne chuckled. “Hogbottom!”

  Alec froze, then shook his head. “Quiet, Ryne.”

  “Aye,” Grim snapped, glaring at Ryne. “’Tis an old family name, one I’m quite proud of.”

  Grim turned back to the king, bowing low. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, my sovereign.” He waved to Dianna’s boat. “King Furbald, these are my friends. They helped us escape the sea witch’s den.” The dwarf puffed up his chest, pointing at Dianna. “This is Dianna, a powerful witch who destroyed Eris.”

  The king gawked at them a long moment. “Eris is dead?”

  “Aye,” Grim answered, “and her island reduced to rubble.”

  The king stroked his beard, eyeing Dianna. “And what of Naamaku?”

  “Killed by Dianna’s dragons.” Grim pointed to them in the distance, frolicking along the shoreline.

  The king jerked back, nearly stumbling off the giant’s shoulders. “The golden dragon—is he the same who served the benevolent Goddess Kyan?”

  “He is,” Dianna answered. “His name is Tan’yi’na.” Dianna cupped her hands around her mouth and whistled. Though it wasn’t nearly as loud a
s the dwarf’s bone-jarring horn, her ice dragon’s sensitive ears were attuned to her call. Sure enough, Lydra looked up, then let out a playful roar and skipped across the water toward her, Tan’yi’na following in her wake.

  Ryne and Alec swore when Lydra landed beside them, splashing them with a wave of water and almost capsizing the boat.

  “Borg wike dwagons.” The giant giggled like a toddler, clapping his hands. “Dwagons pway wif Borg.”

  “Silence,” the king roared, smacking the side of Borg’s neck with his silver staff. The staff made strange hollow sounds, vibrating in the king’s grip as a large, red welt appeared on the giant’s flesh.

  Simeon swore beneath his breath, pressing closer to Dianna.

  Her heart twisted when the giant hung his head, lip hanging down in a pout. “Yah, Dada.” He sniffled, wiping a trail of snot on the back of his hand.

  Gorpat fidgeted while her father whispered soothing words in her ear.

  Dianna was relieved to see not all giants were treated with such abuse. When she looked at the king’s scowling face, she was reminded of her late father Rowlen, back when Madhea’s curse had made him mistreat Alec. She looked at her brother, who was glaring at the king, eyes narrowed to slits and hand on the hilt of his dagger, ignoring Ryne’s warning look as he settled a hand on Alec’s shoulder.

  Oh, this wasn’t good. Though she’d no wish to condone the king’s behavior, the giant was big enough to defend himself against a dwarf, and she had other pressing matters that needed her focus. Namely, she needed food and shelter while she and her friends plotted Madhea’s demise. She wouldn’t want to jeopardize her mission by angering the dwarf king.

  Tan’yi’na landed gracefully behind Lydra, like a swan following a duckling. He ruffled his wings, two giant plumes of smoke rising from his nostrils as he settled in the water.

  The king clutched his staff, bowing stiffly to the golden dragon. “It is an honor to meet you, oh wise one. We have heard many a legend about you.”

  Tan’yi’na answered with raised brows and a turned-up snout. Though he couldn’t speak aloud, he was able to project his thoughts. He remained silent. Dianna knew the dragon well enough to see he wasn’t impressed with King Furbald.

  Grim cleared his throat and ran a hand through his scraggly beard. “You may recognize the ice dragon, Lydra. You need not fear. She no longer serves Madhea. She follows Dianna now.” He flashed her a shaky smile, a bead of sweat dripping down his brow.

  The king puffed up his chest, leveling her with a look so dark and puzzling, she was unsure if he was displeased with her or simply had a disagreeable visage. “I have heard of Dianna and Lydra from young Des.”

  Dianna swallowed hard, apprehension pounding a wild staccato against her chest. “My brother is safe?”

  The king’s thin lips turned up in the slightest of smiles. “Safe and well.”

  Her hand flew to her throat as relief swept through her. “Thank the Elements, and thank you, sir, for giving him safe haven.”

  “Sir?” The king’s bushy brows drew together, his forehead wrinkles collapsing into one another like sliding layers of sediment. “No need for formalities. You may call me King Furbald or Your Highness.”

  Dianna’s breath hitched as she waited for the king to break into laughter. When none came, she simply nodded. “Yes, King Furbald.”

  Tan’yi’na let out a low chuckle, then jumped into the sky without so much as a nod of recognition at the dwarf king. Lydra followed, and the pair rained cold droplets on her head before flying off behind the trees.

  Grim cleared his throat again, so loudly she feared he was choking.

  “My sovereign,” he said, his cheeks turning as red as the lava that spewed from Eris’s volcano. “Will you let my friends seek shelter in Aya-Shay? You have my word they mean us no harm.”

  This time the king did laugh, a deep, hearty bellow that elicited a chuckle from the giant Borg. When the king’s laughter abruptly stopped, Borg followed suit, hanging his head when the king glared at him.

  “Why would you ask such a question,” Furbald bellowed, “when you are well aware of the law, Grimley Hogbottom?”

  Grim looked like he’d been struck dumb. He gaped at the king. “But Eris is dead, and—”

  The king shot a fist into the air. “Her sister is not!” His words erupted like they’d been fired from a cannon. He cleared his throat and plastered on a smile, one that didn’t mask the coldness in his eyes. “You may take our guests to the hold. I will have food and refreshments sent straight away.” When he banged on Borg’s head with his staff, the giant flinched before marching back into the forest.

  What an odd and unpleasant king. Poor Borg, to have such a brute for a father.

  Alec looked up at Grim, shielding his eyes against the sun. “The hold?”

  Grim scrubbed a hand down his face before sharing a look with his daughter. “An area set up for visitors outside the village walls.”

  Simeon flinched as if he’d been slapped, the look of indignation in his eyes so serious, it was comical. “We are not allowed inside the village?”

  Gorpat stuck a thumb in her chest. “Only we dwarves allowed inside.”

  Grim let out a heavy sigh. “I had hoped the king would make an exception.”

  After such a cold welcome, Dianna suspected their time with the dwarves would be brief, which was fine with her. She’d no wish to remain the guest of such an unpleasant ruler.

  MADHEA SQUEEZED HER hands into fists, surprised at the strength of the magic that flowed into her palms. She had not felt such power since before her fateful night with Rowlen. Could it be that with Eris’s demise, her sister’s Elemental magic was transferring to her? Madhea sent a silent prayer to the Elements that her beauty would return with her magic. She fluttered into her bedchamber and landed in front of her looking glass. Her skin appeared slightly less sallow. Her brittle gray hair, that she’d been forced to braid ere it became too unkempt and wild, had a touch of softness. Perhaps Dianna’s betrayal had served one useful purpose.

  She flew into her throne room, landing beside her swirling mists, spinning a hole in the circle with the tip of her finger.

  “Reveal to me Dianna,” she whispered.

  But her stubborn mists only showed blackness. With a curse, she swatted them away and flew past her throne room to the cell where her guest was being held. She threw a bolt at the thick ice wall barring the prisoner’s escape and entered the frigid chamber. A man was curled into a ball on a stone slab, shivering under a thin fur.

  Madhea hovered above him, nudging him with the tip of her toe. “Sit up, blue man.”

  He pushed the fur off his shoulders. Madhea was dismayed at the sight of his skeletal appearance. Such a prisoner would do her no good if he perished in her care. She made a note to feed the man more, as her plan to starve him into submission clearly wasn’t working. Perhaps if she showed him a bit of kindness, he would give her the information she sought.

  He slowly sat up, piercing her with eyes set in hollow sockets. The rust-colored streak running through the top of his silvery hair had faded, along with his skin. Once a vibrant blue, it was now the color of water beneath the glare of the noonday sun.

  “You look famished.” Madhea forced a pout. “Have my daughters not been feeding you well?”

  “Very little.” He ran a hand down his gaunt face, a look of derision in his beady eyes. “They said on your orders.”

  “Lying witches.” She waved off his words with a shrill laugh. “Do not fret. They have been punished for their neglect. I shall fetch you food, then we shall talk.”

  He turned his gaze to his lap. “I have nothing to say.”

  “Of course you do, my dear.” Her buzzing wings came to a halt, and she dropped down beside him, placing a hand on his knee, ignoring him when he flinched under her touch. “You have much to tell me about your people, about your magnificent blue skin.” She stroked a hollow cheek, licking her lips when he flushed beneath
her touch. Could her charms be returning? Perhaps she could seduce this man into obedience.

  His face flushed brighter as he leaned away. “I will not betray my people again.”

  “Such loyalty to those who care nothing for you.” She stroked one narrow arm, dismayed by his lack of muscle. This man had the bones of a bird, whereas Rowlen had been built like an ox. “Where were they when you were in great peril? If my pixies hadn’t flown down to save you, that snow bear would have eaten you alive.”

  He leaned farther away, but she was not to be deterred. “Come to my chamber.” She got to her feet and held a hand down to him, forcing a smile. “I will bring food and wine. Would you like that?”

  When he did not answer, anger welled in her chest, sparks crackling in her palms. She forced herself to swallow her ire, for she suspected this young man had information about the villagers who’d once lived under her mountain, then betrayed her and mysteriously disappeared 300 years ago. Wherever these people were, Dianna’s brother Markus had been with them, too. Why else had his skin been tinted blue that fateful day he’d snuck into her tower?

  “Don’t be afraid.” She forced a smile so wide, her skin cracked under the strain. “Take my hand. I shall not bite.”

  She inwardly cackled with joy when he placed a hand in hers. She would get this man to reveal the hiding place of the blue people. Then she’d strike them all down, save for one. She’d take Markus back to her tower and use him as bait to lure Dianna into her trap.

  “EXCELLENT SHOT.”

  Markus couldn’t have been more proud of Ura. After only a few weeks with her new bow, she’d become quite proficient, striking the targets in the lungs almost every time.

  “Not as good as you.” Ura lowered her bow, leaning it on her hip, her pale curtain of hair tied behind her slender neck, her blue-tinted cheeks flushed with crimson after exerting herself for over an hour.

  “Good enough to slow your target, and that’s what matters.” Markus had fashioned a few targets of old slog skins and one worn gnull hide. Each target had several holes in the kill zones.