The Goddess Test Boxed Set: Goddess Interrupted\The Goddess Inheritance\The Goddess Legacy (107 page)

“You will stand still while the guards search you,” said the
earl, and he gestured toward the boys. “Or my guards will run your friends
through with a sword. Is that understood?”

Tuck didn't move. She had to have the pendant on her—she might
have let it drop in the woods, knowing the earl would never be able to find it,
but I doubted it. Not when the pendant meant so much to her.

Where was it? Closing my eyes, I reached out for it, and—

In her shoe. How the hell had she managed to get it in there
without me noticing? Didn't matter. As the guards approached her, warier this
time, I mentally took hold of it. It was strangely warm, connected to Tuck as it
was, and while one brave guard with trembling hands patted me down, I vanished
it.

Not an easy trick, and not something I did lightly. But as mad
as the earl would be when his search turned up nothing, Tuck would be even worse
off if the pendant returned to her father.

She must have felt the pendant disappear, because she finally
looked at me, a question in her eyes. If she couldn't give me the truth, then I
didn't owe it to her, either. At least not yet.

When the guards turned up empty-handed, having searched all of
us, the earl stood. “I
will
find it,” he
growled.

“Are you sure about that?” said Tuck with more sass than was
wise, all things considered. The earl's face turned red again, and he slammed
his fist down on the table.

“I am sure enough that if you do not produce the pendant or
give us adequate information to find it by sunup, I will kill each of your
friends. And if you do not tell me by sundown, I will kill you.”

She scoffed, but there was fear in her voice, as well. “You
wouldn't.”

“Try me.”

“You won't,” I interjected. “Else you'll be the next to
die.”

Silence. The earl leaned forward against the table, and if he
could've set me on fire through hatred alone, I was pretty damn sure I would've
been ash by now. “And you,” he murmured in a poisonous voice. “You will be the
first to die.”

“You can kill me as many times as you'd like,” I said. “Right
now, if you don't mind, I'm tired.”

If it were possible for steam to pour out his ears, I was
absolutely positive it would happen right about now. “Guards!” he barked. “Take
them to the dungeons.”

“The dungeons? But—” Before Tuck could finish, a guard yanked
her backward, half carrying her twisting form toward the door. “You can't do
this to them! I don't know where the pendant is—I dropped it!”

“Perhaps your mother would have believed your lies, but I'm not
soft like she was. Take them away,” the earl said again, and the guards marched
the rest of us out of the hall. Sprout and Mac look scared out of their minds,
their eyes wide as they wore identical masks of terror, but there wasn't much I
could do to reassure them.

Tuck continued to kick and scream the entire way into the
dungeons, but the guards didn't pay her much attention as they artfully dodged
her flailing limbs. Somehow I got the feeling this wasn't exactly the first time
she'd been down here, and that only made my hatred for the earl burn hotter. Who
locked his own daughter up? No wonder she'd run away.

The guards shoved Mac and Sprout into a cell near the stairs,
but they led Tuck and me deep into the darkness, with only torches to light our
way. It felt unnatural down here, almost like the Underworld—but unlike the
Underworld, my powers worked just fine in the earl's dungeon. It was a maze to
the center, where a high-security cell awaited us, complete with four guards and
a stone door operated by some sort of pulley system. No way anyone mortal could
knock them in.

The lead guard pushed me into the cell first, and the others
threw Tuck down onto a pile of hay before the door dropped, shaking the walls
around us and effectively sealing us inside.

“Well,” I said, leaning up against the nearest wall. “This is
inconvenient.”

Without warning, Tuck launched herself at me, pounding her
fists into my chest. “Who—the hell—
are you?
”

I stood still, letting her get out her anger and frustration
and worry and whatever else she was feeling. Didn't hurt me one bit, and if it
made her feel better, brilliant. “I already told you. I'm Hermes. Sometimes
called Mercury, especially in Rome.”

“I don't know who that
is
.” With
one final punch, she went limp, barely able to keep standing. I wrapped my arms
around her before she could fall.

“I'm a god,” I said. No need to dance around it. “One of the
twelve Olympians. Well, er, fifteen now. Bit of a long story.”

She shook her head wearily, and I lowered her down onto the
ground. “I don't understand,” she whispered. “There's only one god.”

Only one? I frowned. “No, there's definitely more. Zeus, my
father, he's head of the council, but—”

“There's only one. Or are you pagan?”

I blinked. Was she serious? “You really have no idea who I am
or how many gods there are?”

“I rather thought it was all just a matter of opinion,” she
said. “I mean, here you have one god. Some people say more than one. Some people
say there isn't any god, though how they could possibly believe that and live in
this world…” She shook her head. “Do you really think you're a god?”

“I really
am
a god.” This was going
to get very old very fast if she kept it up. “I've been to plenty of places
where the people don't know who I am, but we're not that far from Greece, where
the religion centered around our best-known identities started.”

“Greece?” She frowned. Did she even know where—or what—Greece
was? Before I could ask, she changed the subject, confirming my suspicions. “How
can you possibly be a god and look so—
normal?
”

I shrugged. “We can change our appearance at will, and I like
blending in, I suppose. Let me prove it to you. Hold out your hand.”

She immediately clasped them behind her back. “If you're going
to show me magic or—something—”

“You've already seen what I can do,” I said with a small smile.
“I won't hurt you. The opposite, I promise. Just hold out your hand.”

Tuck eyed me for a long moment, and even though we were in a
darkened cell with only a single torch for light, her eyes were as blue as ever.
Reluctantly she offered me her palm, and I set my hand over hers. My skin
tingled where we touched, and exhaling slowly, I willed the pendant back from
nothing. It arrived in her hand, heavy and warm, and she gasped.

“How did you…?” She stared at me, stunned, and without warning,
she kissed me on the mouth.
“James.”

My entire body grew hot. “It's nothing,” I mumbled. “Just a
trick. I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth sooner. It's sort of…you know. Not
something you go around bragging about.”

She snorted, her lips still half an inch in front of mine. “If
I were a goddess, I'd run around the world telling everyone I met. To have that
kind of power…”

“It isn't all it's cracked up to be, you know. I might be
powerful, but there are loads of others even more powerful than I am.”

“A frightening thought,” she said with a small, distant smile.
“Still, for even a fraction of that…for some sort of control…”

I hesitated. It clearly wasn't something she wanted to talk
about, but I had to know. “Why did you run away?”

“Isn't it obvious?” She made a vague gesture that reminded me
all too much of the earl. Her father. “I was trapped here. Never had any
freedom. My only friend was my mother, and when she died, I didn't want to stay
here anymore. I didn't want to be under his thumb. He tried to marry me off, you
know, to a neighboring lord. In exchange for land.
Land
.” She shook her head, as if that were the most insulting,
preposterous thing she'd ever heard. “Like he doesn't have enough of it already.
So I ran. Met the others in the village, and the four of us took off
together.”

“I'm sorry,” I said. “Most of us are tied to our lives one way
or the other. You're lucky you had the option of running.”

“We all have the option of running,” she said. “It's just a
matter of whether or not you're brave enough to do it. It isn't just running,
you know. You have to change yourself completely. Become the person you need to
be in order to survive. It isn't easy, but it has to be done. That's the only
way you can choose your own life, you know?”

I did know, and I nodded, running my fingers through the ends
of her tangled hair. Somehow her braid had come undone. “I won't let anything
happen to you or the life you want,” I said quietly. “I promise.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep,” she said, and she stared
at the pendant in her hand, a hint of sadness flashing across her face. “I knew
what would happen when I asked you to steal this. Well, actually, I figured the
guards would kill you. Sorry.”

She gave me the tiniest of smiles, and I grinned back. I'd
already guessed as much.

“I just…I'm prepared. I knew this might happen, and I was
willing to swallow the consequences. But for Mac and Sprout and Perry…” She bit
her lip. “Is he okay? Do you know anything?”

I hesitated. “I know he's in good hands. The best there is in
literally the entire world. If anyone can save Perry, it's him.”

“Thanks,” she whispered. “You didn't have to do that. You
didn't have to do any of it, yet you did anyway.”

I pulled her in toward me. She rested her head on my shoulder,
her breaths coming in deep and uneven. “I did, though. Chosen family and
all.”

“Even if you'll outlive us all?”

My chuckle was void of all humor. She had no idea how much that
reminder twisted the knife already buried deep inside me. “There's an afterlife,
you know. My uncle runs it, and sometimes I help escort lost souls there. What
do you think will happen when you die?”

She hesitated. “I don't know. Hell, I guess. Eternal fire and
torture for everything I've stolen and done and…right.”

“No, it's nothing like that.” Or at least it wouldn't be for
her—I refused to let her think that way. “It's the best place you can imagine.
The happiest moment, the people you love most—it's whatever you want. Whatever
you believe deep inside of you.”

Tuck didn't move for a long moment, and at last she whispered,
“I don't want to die. And I don't want Mac and Sprout and Perry to die,
either.”

“I won't let that happen,” I said firmly. “Just trust me, all
right? Hard as it might be, I won't let anything happen to you. We can leave
now, you know, if you want.”

She peered up at me. “We can?”

“Sure. Just say the word, and you and I will walk out of here
without a care in the world.”

“But—Mac and Sprout—”

“I'll come back for them, of course,” I said. “I wouldn't leave
them behind.”

Tuck shook her head fiercely. “No. If you can really get us out
of here, then they need to go first. The moment my father discovers I'm missing,
he'll have them killed. I can't let that happen.”

I laced my fingers with hers. They were cold and much smaller
than I thought they'd be. “All right. Mac and Sprout first. I'll bring them to a
safe place in the woods, and then I'll come back for you. Deal?”

“Deal. Wait a little bit before you go, though.”

“Why?” I said, tightening my grip on her hand. “Like spending
time with me after all?”

Tuck snorted. “Yeah, right. The later it is, the less likely
you'll be spotted, that's all. Sorry to shatter your hopes and dreams.”

I gazed down at her in the flickering torchlight. She was
practically a kid—a mortal kid, no less. But there was something about her that
made me want to stay in this cell forever with her. Just the two of us curled up
together in the hay, waiting for morning to come. Despite everything that had
happened, I hadn't felt this sort of warmth in eons, not since Persephone.

Lives with mortals weren't impossible—they weren't exactly
encouraged, of course, but several council members had mortal spouses and
children they visited often, Zeus included. It was a leap, since twenty-four
hours ago, Tuck could barely stand me, but in that moment, I saw a future. A
real possibility of happiness, even if it would eventually end with her death.
But a little happiness, no matter how temporary, was better than none at
all.

“Hey,” I said as the minutes ticked by. “When we get out of
here, why don't we build a cottage somewhere as far away from this place as we
can get?”

She peered up at me, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Like a
home?”

“A home. A place in the woods where no one will bother us, but
close enough to travel if we need to. We can take care of the boys until they're
old enough to decide what they want to do. If they want to stay, brilliant—if
they want to venture out on their own, they can always come back. And you'll
never want for anything, I promise.”

Tuck's expression softened, and finally she said, “That sounds
perfect.”

I kissed her temple. “Then that's what we'll do. And you'll
never have to worry about any of this again.”

“That'd be really nice.” She sighed. “Thanks for—you know. Not
being terrible. Even if I still don't believe you about the whole god
thing.”

“No problem,” I said. “Now sleep. I'll wake you before I
leave.”