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

More monster than she ever had been.

Chapter X

Tenth Moon, Waxing Gibbous: Central Thloegr

Va’al tarried behind the two wilder Gods, more annoyed than he had been since before Etienne abandoned Alphonse. Enyo was too distracted by the world around them to pay him much attention, and Maoz was bounding beside her like it was the best thing he could imagine except fucking tavern wenches. Meanwhile, Va’al’s legs and ankles had been bramble-whipped even through his trousers. 

At least, because it was reaching the height of fall, the gnats weren’t so bad, but, still, the humans had toiled away at the roads for a reason. He much preferred taking advantage of their labor. Of course, he had been outnumbered, so they traveled as the crow flew, not on roads but cutting through brush and thickets, over hills and down through glens—a straight line for Caerthleon where it lay almost directly east of the tower. Or it would be if Enyo and Maoz didn’t spend a quarter of each day veering off towards whatever branch or thrush enthralled them.

“I still say we would have had an easier time finding Aryus a Vassal on the road,” he told them both, not for the first time. “We’ll have to get nearly to Caerthleon before we stumble upon a human out here.”

Not that they were likely to listen, still playing in their mortal bodies like they were new horses to put through paces, not prisons keeping them from accessing their full power.

“A day or two longer without Aryus and their ridiculous sense of humor won’t kill us.” Enyo smirked. “Besides, the roads are boring, dusty places. No one worth— What was that sound?” She stopped in her tracks, and so did Maoz, a few paces behind.

Va’al cocked his head to listen, sifting through the whisper of wind through browning leaves and the occasional spurt of bird song. Somewhere, not far away, came the sound of children giggling. Another bright chiming laugh rang out, and Enyo turned, prowling through the tall grasses. Three minutes walk revealed a grove of trees evenly planted in rows and columns.

“What have they done to these trees?” she hissed, disgusted. Anger made her lips curl.

Maoz shrugged. “It looks like an orchard.”

“I know that!” she snapped, rounding on the hunter with a growl. “Who told humans to try and tame the wild? I believe you put that idea into their heads!” Maoz glanced at Va'al, his expression impossible to read.

“I taught them to forage and to convene with nature how it was, not force it into neat little rows and boxes!”

Va'al looked from the orchard to Enyo, unimpressed by her tantrum. It had actually been Esha who gave the humans the trick of cultivation; he had been the one to tell Enyo it was the Beast God. Va’al had lived among humans longer than either of them, and he had not found them any more neat or orderly for all their cultivation. They were just animals—animals that lived in cities, perhaps, but still they stank and glutted and fucked.

Of course, so were they, for the time being.

The God only just stopped himself from growling out something of the sort when he had a better idea. There might be a way to soothe Enyo’s ruffled feathers and get what he wanted at the same time.

“Enyo,” he cooed, “I think I have the perfect punishment.”She was already unstrapping Calamity from her pack, her version of justice. “How about we use one of them as a vassal?” he said, stretching out the word to emphasize it. “Then we can, I dunno, burn the trees and kill the rest?” He cared less about the last bit, but he was trying to make a sell here. Had to play to his audience.

“Burn the trees?!”

“He’s right about the Vassal,” Maoz pondered.

Even Enyo’s hackles were coming down. She buckled Calamity back into its place. “Fine. We’ll use one.” They turned to enter the orchard and came upon two children running through the trees.  “Aryus does like to play.”

Before Maoz or Va'al could comment, Enyo sprinted through the trees. She was a mere blur—beside Va’al one moment and the next catching up to the little boy, perhaps nine or ten years old. His skin was dark, his eyes long-lashed, and he squealed in terror as Enyo scooped him up as easily as she might a bag of grain. The sister, turning to see what had happened, gasped and fled. “This should do, should it not?” Enyo asked, ignoring the flailing creature in her arms.

Va'al shrugged. “Sure. It's a human.” Besides, having a small one might make moving it around and getting it to do the ritual easier. He walked up to Enyo and smiled at the boy mesmerizingly. “There, there, pal. What’s the fuss? We’re just here to play a game. You even get to hold a bright, ivory horn.” The child stilled as Va'al drew out the artifact, and he turned to the other two. “So, what do you say? We could go ahead and get the thing over with.”

Maoz was, at most, mildly pensive. “Will it be a problem if Aryus is in a child’s body? Will they be weaker?”

The boy, sated by whatever power Va'al still had over the mind, stood mesmerized, his eyes on the glinting horn.

“Aryus is Death. I can’t see how size matters.” Enyo laughed and pulled out her dagger. “Here, boy. Your hand.” He blinked but reached out—such a good child, in the habit of obedience. Enyo brought the tip of the blade to his thumb when a voice called out.

“Stop, curse you! Let go of him!”

A man was running forward with an ax in hand. He looked much like the child. “The father. Maoz, you have many bastards, perhaps you should talk him down?” Enyo snipped; the hunter made no move to intervene as the man closed the distance between them. “Fine.” She dropped the boy’s bleeding hand and stalked forward. Something in her stare must