The Godless by Ben Peek Read Free Book Online Page B

thin chains wrapped around his wrists, the bands a mix of silver and copper threaded with tiny charms made from gold, copper, silver, glass and leather. The charms were not isolated to his wrists, for she could see thin chains tied through his hair and one pierced in his right ear.
    â€œSo you wake.” His voice had a strange accent, one she could not place. “I think they were going to bring a prince, eventually.”
    â€œHave I been here long?” Her voice sounded smoky and harsh. She coughed to clear it.
    â€œSince this morning.”
    â€œYou—you pulled me out of the fire?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThank you.”
    His right hand touched a chain on his wrist. “It was luck. I heard screaming and went in. I found you in need.”
    Footsteps emerged outside the door. Ayae hesitated, then said, “Did you—did you kill the man in there?”
    â€œNo.” He had dark-green eyes, darker than any she had seen before, and they met hers evenly. “You want to avoid him,” the man littered with charms said. “If you can.”
    The door opened and Reila, the small, gray-haired, white healer, entered. “There will be guards coming for you soon, Zaifyr,” she said, though her gaze was not on him. “Pull on your boots.”
    â€œThey have holes in them.”
    Ignoring him, the healer’s small hands pushed aside Ayae’s hair, and pressed against her forehead. “How do you feel?”
    â€œFine.”
    â€œYou’re warm,” she said softly. “Still warm. Like you’re smoldering beneath your skin.”
    â€œDon’t say that,” Ayae whispered.
    The healer’s words were too close to suggesting something that, beneath her skin, in her blood and bones, was a touch of a god, that she was cursed. It was the name that men and women in Mireea used for people with a god’s power in them, the name repeated up to Faaisha aloud, but the name that was whispered in the streets of Yeflam behind the Keepers’ backs. It was the name that implied countless horrors, stories told of men and women who, since birth, looked normal, acted normal, until one day they split down the chest as arms grew from their body, or their skin began to melt.
    To be cursed meant that, inside you, was part of a dead god. Their very beings broke down around you, their blood seeping into the land, into the water, their last breaths polluting the air, each act freeing their divinity, leaving it to remake the world without restraint, leaving tragedy in its wake, creating madmen such as the Innocent and terrible empires such as the Five Kingdoms. The remains of the dead were nothing but pain and suffering that ordinary people had to endure.
    Before Ayae could say more, the door opened and Illaan entered, flanked by two guards. At the sight of him, she dared a smile; but if he saw her, he gave no indication. His gaze was focused on Zaifyr as he pulled on his boots.
    â€œIs he able to be questioned now?” Illaan asked.
    â€œThe only thing hurt is his clothes,” Reila replied. “Both of them are extremely lucky.”
    With a nod, Illaan indicated to the two guards. Standing, Zaifyr stamped both feet, a cloud of ash rising as he did. In the corner of her eye, Ayae was aware of him trying to catch her gaze, but she kept her eyes on Illaan. He had turned to her now, his lips parted in what might have been the start of a smile, or even, she thought for a second time, a frown.
    â€œShe needs rest,” Reila told him. “She’s going to be here for the night, Sergeant, no matter what she says to you.”
    Illaan nodded, just once.
    At the door, the healer turned to Ayae, a hint of sympathy in her lined face. Before it had any time to grow, she stepped out of the room, following the guards and the charm-laced man, leaving the two alone. Leaving Ayae to turn to Illaan and smile faintly. “We should be happier,” she said. “I