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

“I’m glad we’re on the same page. Now step aside, girl. Unless you’d like to make a sacrifice to a nature Goddess.”

He stepped forward, physically pushing her aside.

➳

Tanwen let him, looking at the bodies of her people strewn about. How many were simply hurt? How many were dead?

The female strolled up, her gait strangely swift for someone so unassuming. She paused beside Tanwen and looked up through ridiculously thick lashes. Her eyes were an odd color. Dark with hints of gold and red. Tanwen had never seen eyes like that.

With her strength, strange eyes, and what the man had said, it was not so hard to believe they were Gods. What else could explain this? No human was this powerful. It seemed as if the girl knew what Tanwen thought because she smiled broadly and lifted a thin hand to touch the redhead’s mouth. Tanwen flinched but didn’t step back. She’d not show her fear in front of her people.

“Crael,” the woman called. No. Not a woman. Not a girl. A Goddess. He had said it was Enyo. Enyo, who Delyth worshiped. Enyo, who she hadn’t thought of in seven years.

Here. Real. Terrible. Just as Glynfford’s seer had predicted.

When the man turned back to look at Enyo, brows arched, she smiled wickedly and turned away from Tanwen with a dismissive air. “Won’t we need a Vassal for Maoz?”

⚀

Va'al cocked an eyebrow and looked over the girl with a critical stare. “Let’s get him a male, Enyo. Otherwise, we’ll never hear the end of it.” He turned back to the great hall, his back to both of them. For once, Va'al didn’t want to stay and play. He wanted his body.

He wanted the shadows.

As he entered the hall, they half bent towards him. Flickering. Remembering. As though even now, even inside this body, the dark places of Illygad still knew his name.

Even after humanity had forgotten it.

The spear was just as he had last seen it. Unguarded. Unadorned. The Mynydd Gwyllt must have felt secure all these years to let such a precious thing be left out in the open. But then, he supposed, Maoz was always careless with his artifact as well.

He hefted the spear and turned back towards Enyo. “Alright. Let’s pick him out a good one. Male, and you know. Tall.”

“You have the spear. Just leave.” The clan leader said, raising her ax as if that would stop them from taking what they wanted.

Enyo had always found the smell of weakness a powerful lure. She turned on the redhead, snarling. “You do not tell us when to leave, mortal.” Her voice was thick with contempt, and despite the hilarious difference in height, weight, and weapons, the War Chief of Mynydd Gwyllt winced.

Still, she held her ground. “You cannot take my people.”

Enyo slapped Tanwen so hard her head rocked back, and blood leaked from the corner of her mouth. The warriors of the clan rushed forward, but Tanwen held out her hand to stop them.

Enyo smirked and looked at Va'al. “I like how feisty she is. Are we certain Maoz wouldn’t make do with a female? It’d be an interesting experience for him, being on the receiving end…”

The redhead spat out a mouthful of blood and raised her ax.

Before Va'al could call out, Enyo was pouncing on the clan leader. With an audible snap, she broke several of the redheaded woman’s fingers as she yanked the ax away.

Tanwen screamed in pain and clutched her hand to her chest.

“Stop! Stop! I’ll go with you.” A young man was approaching. He had thickly curling hair and the hefty build of a warrior or farmer. His grey eyes were filled with concern as he looked at his leader, who was doing her best to suppress her whimpers of pain. “Gethin,” she whispered, but Enyo was growing bored. She punched the clan leader squarely in the jaw, and the woman collapsed.

“You’ll do, mortal.”

Va'al just shrugged. He wasn’t the biggest warrior in the hall, but he was willing. And Enyo’s experience with Alphonse had proven just how invaluable a willing Vassal really was.

He hoped the boy didn’t mind dullness. Or stoicism. Or an indiscriminate fuck every now and again. But then, it wouldn’t matter all thatmuch if their plan worked smoothly. They wouldn’t need these bodies for long.

“Excellent. That is everything we came for, I believe. After you, Enyo?”

Enyo took the mortal by the arm, hauling him behind her as they exited the hall. The rest of the clanspeople stepped out of their way, wary and frightened or obviously angry.

“Where are we going?” he asked— Tanwen had called him Gethin.

Enyo rolled her eyes but then looked at Va'al expectantly. After all, he was the one who made the plans. She just followed her whims. “I suppose we should go into the forest. It’ll be easier to arrange things there, hm?”

“That would be fitting for Maoz. He was always more at home in wild places.” That or a whore’s bed, and the forest was more expedient. As he walked, Va’al spoke to the man who had volunteered for the ritual. “The Mynydd Gwyllt are followers of Maoz, so you should feel honored, Gethin. You’ve just volunteered to be your God’s Vassal.”

He turned quickly off the road, both to find a dark, quiet space for Maoz and to get away from prying eyes. It would be dull if the humans of the clan decided to do something foolish like track them.

“It should even be painless. Since you’ve chosen this path. It was for my Vassal and me.” He smirked at Enyo, gloating. She hadn’t been so lucky.

Enyo rolled her eyes and muttered something dark under her breath in the Old Tongue, but she was smirking all the same. Finally, they came to an outcropping of trees, and she tossed Gethin into the encircling trunks.

“Hold out your hand.” He swallowed but complied.

Enyo revealed a dagger, likely pulled from some hidden sheath on her body. She sliced along his thumb and shuddered in enjoyment as she inhaled deeply.