The Iron-Jawed Boy and the Hand of the Moon (Book 2, Sky Guardian Chronicles) by Nikolas Lee Read Free Book Online Page B

round sort of way. There were folds upon folds of skin and fat hanging from his body, which drooped over the arms of his throne and bulged through his blue robes. He looked down at Ion with droopy eyes and bags underneath to match, but then leaned away. Soldune, god of gluttony . He was the only god of Illyria who oversaw what was considered to be a “vice”. On Eldanar, the rich thanked him before each evening meal, praying that they’d be able to eat the bounty of food before them and not get sick.
    Lord Soldune’s eyes narrowed upon Ion. “So you’re one of the new Guardians?” he asked in a lazy, muddled voice. “I do believe I’ve eaten cakes larger than you.”
    Then came a sweet voice on Ion’s right. “I believe most things you’ve eaten have been larger than this boy, Lord Soldune.”
    There sat Eos and Ezra, two goddesses that shared one waistline and pair of legs. Their torsos were slender and topped by heads with long scrolls of paper growing where hair should have been, each scroll bright with wispy, blue text. The Unseparated Ones . The goddesses of art and knowledge.
    “While that is probably true,” Soldune replied, “that’s all in the past. You see, I’m on a new low-caloric diet—it used to be all the rage in Outerworld communities many years ago. I’ve since lost five-hundred pounds.” Soldune lifted up a slab of lifeless skin hanging from the back of his arm. “Lots of skin left over, though.”
    He chuckled at himself and all ten of his chins jiggled. “Now then,” he said, suddenly serious as he turned his attention to the tray of cakes, “onto business.”
    He shuffled at least ten off the side of the tray and onto a flap of skin he had stretched into a sort of plate. “Would you happen to have any whipped cream to go with these?” he asked.
    “Um...no, My Lord. I don’t.”
    Soldune twisted his mouth to the side. “Very well then. I guess I’ll make do.”
    Ion turned to Eos and Ezra and presented the tray, trying his best to ignore the disgusting sounds that were now coming from Soldune. Eos plucked one carefully selected cake from the tray, while Ezra chose without even looking, instead watching as Esereez hurled an insult at Vasheer while Vasheer summoned a sphere of blue fire in his hand as a threat.
    “Your jaw is quite beautiful,” said Eos, her voice curious.
    “ Th -thank you, Lady Eos,” Ion said. “I’m not so sure, though.”
    Her small lips pursed together in a simple smile. “However beautiful or not it might be, it should fill you with pride to wear the Connection Seal of the Triplet Omnus.”
      “I...I am proud, My Lady,” Ion lied, while Thoman the Overseer shouted about honor in the background.
    Eos leaned over the side of her throne and studied Ion. “You’re not, but I understand. Pride suits no one, so I won’t pressure you. Now run along, Ionikus Reaves, there are other gods in this hall to serve.”
    Ion retreated from Eos and Ezra’s throne, slunk safely past Thoman and Vasheer, and wound up at the section of thrones seated by the High Illyrians. He proceeded to a goddess who sat in her throne of crystal wearing a look of complete and utter boredom. Onyxia the Benevolent, she was called—the High Illyrian of night and shadow, and not to mention, the wife of Othum. Her scalp was shiny and smooth. Strange . All of her statues on Eldanar depicted a goddess with hair flowing down to her feet. Though her dress was the most impressive of all the clothes in the Hall, a grand masterpiece of bird feathers, all bright with blues, greens, and purples—an eye of gold at the end of each. The goddess blinked, and so too did the golden eyes.
    Onyxia turned to him and smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile, or a crazy smile, or even a smirk. One look at the goblet full of mead in Onyxia’s right hand and Ion knew this smile to be a disheveled one. Like the one Grandpa Virgil would wear when he’d come home from the tavern in town.
    “Refreshments!”