Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
“Whoa!” I exclaim. “Four little lines did all that?”
“Four stupid lines from Pie did all that.”
“Right.” I nod. “She is a spectacular speller. So Pie put Callistina in debt, huh?”
“And locked her up in the Bottoms prison. And when she got there, she was a human. All magic stripped. This is a type of torture for a creature like Callistina.”
“Wow.” I actually have to take a moment to consider all these new facts. “My little Pie certainly did find her power.”
“Oh, she did all right. But in all fairness, Callistina did kill her bird.”
“Which only made Pie more powerful.”
“Correct,” Darrel says. Then he blows out a breath. “Anyway. About that arrow.”
I shoot the poor dragon-girl again and Darrel seems satisfied with this. And by this time, it’s full-on afternoon and I have yet to see Callistina.
I’m not obsessed with her. I’m just curious now. About where she’s staying, of course. But also… that curse of hers. It’s changed things, I think. I just need to work out how.
Because one does not just go from being First Daughter Lioness of Saturn in the House of Fire to being a human. It’s not possible. This is genetics we’re talking about. She was bred to be a certain thing and it was not a human. So her true self still lingers. But how to unlock it?
Better question—should I unlock it?
I know it would make her happy, but what would be in it for me?
In order to figure that out I need to know what I want. And I’m not sure. All this time—all these thousands of years—I wanted to be the god of gods. The head of all the pantheons. The one who pulls the puppet strings.
I possess the power to be that because I possess the power of love.
When mutual, it’s heaven on earth. When one-sided, it can tear you apart. There is no greater weapon than the heartsick soul. That is the power I wield, for I am the god of love. No one has power like me. No one can poison a heart and pollute a mind the way I can. That’s why the gods kicked me out. That’s why they made me fall.
I already am the god of gods.
What I am not is free to take that position.
And the funny thing is, I was so close. If only Pie hadn’t taken Callistina to the Bottoms, then Tarq would not have been king and Vinca would not be ruined. And if Vinca wasn’t ruined then Tarq might be alive.
But it didn’t happen that way so the probability that Tarq is my path forward into a future where I wear the ultimate crown seems fairy remote.
I had Pie. I had her practically in my hand. Now I do understand that Pell would’ve put up a fight. He was making deals though, wasn’t he? He was going to give me a door to the Apis bull. Which is… interesting. Pell claimed that door was a direct line back to the old gods, but it was a guess.
Maybe he was right. And if so, well, that door would’ve been useful. I would’ve had to fight hard if I took the door. It would’ve been a long, messy war with those old gods.
Still, it was a good offer. And the gods of old have been out of favor for so long now, they’re not what they used to be. Perhaps Saturn is, since he’s kept a cult going all this time, and worshippers are how these gods get power. The door to the Apis bull might’ve been the better way to go.
Something compelled me to not take that deal Pell was offering. I pause to think here, because I can’t remember why I lost my fucking senses and didn’t grab that door when I had the chance. Or Pressia’s books, for that matter. Pell said something about her books being in his apothecary at Saint Mark’s.
No. He called it her apothecary. Pressia’s apothecary. She’s been hiding at Saint Mark’s all these eons. Existing in some sort of time shift, maybe, or on an alternate plane of existence. Writing her little books and doing her little spells like nothing and no one can touch her.
Pressia. The one who made me love her. Her magic is… significant. A better word might be formidable. She used that magic to spell my heart. Much like I just used an arrow to spell Madeline’s.
Pressia is the one who stole my heart and then broke it. She is how the gods ruined me.
But I’ve been thinking about this ever since it happened, which is a long, long time. The feelings I have for Pressia are definitely more along the lines of hate. And hate comes with very specific feelings.
And wants. Maybe even needs.
In my case, these wants and needs fall along a path of revenge. And I think part of my current state of uneasiness is the fact that I’ve got power all around me in so many different forms. Just waiting to be used.