Goddess by Liv Savell (books for 6 year olds to read themselves txt) 📗

spot left of the entrance and turned to find a rock of her own, crouching to tamp her stake into the right side. “This is an ancient ritual my father taught me when I was small.” When she was done, a few inches of the stake stuck out above the dirt, the rest driven down deep.

She looped the end of the rope she had brought over and tied it. Stretching it tight, she knotted that side off as well until the line was taut, six inches off the ground, anchored by the two stakes.

“Now, here’s the magic of it…” She gestured for Etienne to come closer, to watch as she drew a symbol into the dirt before his tent.

Curiously, Etienne bent down to better make out the symbol she had scraped into the dirt, only to find a simple arrow pointing inwards.

He snorted with laughter. “You know, I can just see Enyo falling for this. She’d be in a killing mood after, but it would almost be worth it, just to see her fall for the trick.” He snickered, then chuckled, then let it bloom into a full belly laugh. He could just see the Goddess now, indignant as a wet cat.

Only much, much more dangerous.

That thought sobered him a little, but he was still smiling when he looked at Meirin. “This is just what we need. It’ll fool them, for sure.”

She snickered and brushed away the arrow with the palm of her hand. “You can keep the supplies. I brought more.” Of course, she had.  Meirin elbowed him playfully, albeit a bit painfully, in the side. “Try not to fret about the magic, Etienne. You’re in your head too much as it is. It slows you down. Your body knows what to do. If you’d just trust it.”

Etienne ran his hands through his hair again, suddenly a little awkward. “Yeah,” he said, looking away. “I know. It’s just new to me, I guess… Trusting anything but my mind.”

It was all he had needed at school: his mind and his magic.Only now, one was gone and the other useless.

“With the training for your body you receive every morning, you will start to understand it better. And if that doesn’t work, I’m certain I can knock sense into you.” Her teeth flashed in the firelight, and Meirin turned to hunker down. She rarely erected her own tent, calling it “too much of a bother.”

As unpleasant as the idea of having the sense knocked into him seemed, Etienne was smiling as he turned towards his tent, carefully stepping over the tripwire he and Meirin had lain. He was glad that the clan warrior had come with them, and not just for the help she would be in a fight.

“Night, baker,” he said playfully and slipped inside to sleep.

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In the wan light of early morning, Delyth slipped Alphonse’s journal from her bag. She knew she should share the words written there with Etienne, that he would find comfort in them as well, but still, even after weeks of carrying it close, she could not bring herself to do so. With a difficult fight before them and such a slim chance of success, the journal felt like her last tie to Alphonse now more than ever. So, once again, alone miles from camp, Delyth opened the journal to read.

Fifth Moon, Waning Crescent 

Today, a new man joined our group. He is called Tristan, and he has cunning eyes and a sly smile. One arm is covered in red and black tattoos, and he carries twin daggers. He says he comes from a Master who knew of Enyo’s return and was sent to aid the Goddess to her temple and her “Basin.” 

I cannot understand how Tristan’s master would know of Enyo’s return, but then Delyth’s temple knew too. Perhaps I simply do not understand the way of Gods—the magic they use and the ripples it sends out into Illygad. 

I do know this: I have woken up in his arms, and while it was most alarming to suddenly be in a stranger’s embrace, his touch was not cruel, and I found no harm had been done to my form. Of course, Delyth and Etienne were furious. They are both such fierce protectors, in different ways. Etienne uses his words, which—I hate to admit—seem ineffective against Tristan’s sharp tongue. Delyth makes herself a shield. 

Still, I do not believe Tristan means to harm me. As I reemerged from wherever I go when Enyo is in control, I recall feeling comfortable and cared for. This Tristan made Enyo happier than she had been in some weeks. For that, I am grateful. When Enyo is happy, I feel her claws less keenly in my heart. 

I understand that a piece of her craves contact. Wants a friend. I feel it too. Though with Delyth and Etienne, I am lucky with my friends. And Delyth is a good addition. I had such trouble making female friends at Moxous, but Delyth is not like those girls. She isn’t concerned with looks or status. She is easy to talk to. To be around. 

While the addition of Tristan complicates the binding spell Etienne and I hope to do, I am hopeful his joining us will sate Enyo’s temper and calm the pounding in my head.  I have not told anyone, but with each sunrise, my heart feels heavier. My head feels clouded. Enyo is strong. 

And hungry.

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Meirin was stirring up the coals of the firepit as Delyth landed. Hopefully, the winged warrior had been scouting the path ahead. They would leave the forest completely behind today and make it out onto the open plains of Thloegr. A dangerous prospect, given how the visibility would make them vulnerable.

Still, the runes had said Enyo, Maoz, and Tristan were headed that way. So they would go.

“I was thinking about reheating the root vegetables