A Book of Spirits and Thieves - Morgan Rhodes Page 0,64
any insects that crossed their paths. “Yes, yes, they are here. The spirits are curious about what you seek.” He drew in a sharp breath. “Oh . . . oh my.”
Valoria leaned forward. “What is it? What do you see?”
“There is a spirit here who is cautioning the others not to help you.”
“Who is this spirit?” Valoria hissed.
“King Thaddeus.” It was the name of the former king of Mytica, a kind and benevolent man who had welcomed the goddesses with open arms, willing to share his kingdom with them.
But as the story went, it wasn’t long before Valoria had turned him into a pile of dirt with her earth magic.
“Vanquish him! Send him back to the land of darkness,” Valoria instructed. She didn’t seem too concerned by this imaginary complication. “Do you require a box of silver to trap him?”
“No, Your Radiance. It must be a gold box.” Maddox found the lie very easy to tell.
Valoria glared down at him. “I don’t have a gold box here. Based on what your guardian said, I believed silver would be sufficient.”
Maddox tried to look both thoughtful and regretful. “Alas, he didn’t know nearly as much as he thought he did about my abilities. Apologies, my goddess.”
“Very well.” She sent a withering look at the guard. “Fetch me a golden box immediately.”
“Yes, Your Radiance.”
But before the guard could leave, Maddox fixed a frown upon his face and shook his head as if listening to the dead king. “No, I can’t tell her that,” he said.
“What? What does he say?” she demanded.
“I . . . don’t want to tell you.”
“Tell me, or I will have your lucky charm killed.”
“Tell her,” Barnabas urged. “Now would be good.”
“Well, King Thaddeus says that he forgives you,” Maddox said, cocking his head as if the spirit spoke directly into his ear. “He says he knows you’re very sad, very lonely. He’s heard that you mean to add to your ban of all storybooks and tale-telling by forbidding such simple pleasures as singing and dancing. That you also want to outlaw the consumption of ale and wine. You don’t want your people to have access to life’s simple pleasures. He says that you do this because you are deeply unhappy.”
This was only a guess on Maddox’s part. Valoria was cruel and sharp on the outside, but there was something faded and gloomy in her green eyes that made him think his guess might be correct. The only time those eyes lit up with pleasure was when she gazed at her cobra, her dangerous, beloved pet.
“He forgives me, does he?” she said softly.
“Yes, Your Radiance.”
“How very, very . . . unlikely.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you play me for a fool, witch boy?”
Uh-oh.
There was a commotion at the back of the throne room. Six guards ran in, quickly navigating the winding pathway through the thick interior forest.
“Apologies, Your Radiance,” the lead guard said, “but a substantial problem has developed in the dungeons this morning. Twenty prisoners have broken free.”
“What?” she snarled. “How did this happen?”
“I don’t know.” He bowed deeply. “I wasn’t there, but . . . I don’t believe this issue can be contained without, well, without . . . your intervention.”
“Weak, pathetic, useless mortals!” she hissed. She slipped Aegus into a large porcelain jar beside her throne, and then descended the stairs. “You,” she said to the two guards who’d brought Maddox and Barnabas before her, “stay here with them until I return.”
“Yes, Your Radiance,” the guards said in unison, their heads lowered.
“Who is responsible for this?” she demanded of the others.
The guard who’d given the news of the dungeon break glanced nervously at his partner.
“You’re both utterly useless.” She pointed at him, the long, loose sleeve of her black dress swishing. There was a crackle in the air and both guards let out pained gasps. Maddox watched in shock as their skin turned to bark, their fingers to leaves, their feet to roots. In moments, they were nothing more than two six-foot seedlings to join the rest of the goddess’s indoor forest.
As she passed them on her way out of the hall, Valoria shoved one of the new trees, breaking a branch off in her wake.
All was silent for several heartbeats after she left.
“I must admit, the woman does have a remarkable green thumb,” Barnabas said under his breath.
“Are you ready, Barnabas?” the dark-haired guard with the lucky hen’s toe asked.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He leaned backward and placed his hands on the mossy floor.