A Book of Spirits and Thieves (Spirits and Thieves #1)(32)

“See?” Livius said, coughing and wheezing as he recovered from the blast of Maddox’s magic. “You do have control . . . and much greater strength than I’d have guessed. Perhaps this magic of yours can’t be used on the door, but it will work on the guards. When they return, do what you just did to me, but worse. Kill them.”

A moment of heated emotion had triggered that burst of magic, just as it had at the festival, but it didn’t mean he could do it again on command. And stealing shadows, his simplest trick, wouldn’t help them at all today.

“Even if I could,” he snarled, “I wouldn’t. I’m not a murderer.”

Becca had watched all this in silence. “What kind of magic is this that you can do?”

His jaw was tight. “I honestly don’t know.”

Mere moments later, a group of guards entered the cell and marched Maddox and Livius out of the dungeon and into the palace. Becca kept pace with them, never straying out of Maddox’s line of sight.

He didn’t want to show her how afraid he was, so he concentrated instead on the painful grip the guards had on his arms and the fast pace they maintained, at times literally dragging him across the black stone floors.

He tried to use his magic again, but fear was the only emotion he felt, and it wasn’t doing anything besides making him even weaker than he already felt.

Up until they reached the throne room, everything in the palace had appeared to be chiseled from black granite: floors, ceilings, walls, staircases. There was no art, no decorations or statues or tapestries. Nothing to make the goddess’s residence or the dark jewel that was the Northern Mytican landscape inviting. A shiver sped down Maddox’s back. Sunlight shone down from the small windows onto the floor of the tall and wide hallway like ghostly spears.

They reached a set of large black doors. The two guards standing before them each opened one to allow the prisoners and their escorts silent entry into the throne room.

“Okay, this is different . . . ,” Becca said in a strained tone.

That was an understatement, to be sure.

The throne room was easily a hundred paces by a hundred paces square and twice as high, the ceiling a mosaic of colored glass. The floors were made of hard-packed earth.

“The goddess of earth and water . . . ,” Livius mused under his breath, eyeing the room with barely guarded awe. “Incredible.”

It was as if they’d entered an exotic forest—something the likes of what Maddox had heard tales of from far away. Intense heat pressed down on them in waves. Trees grew from the earthen floor, reaching up thirty, no, fifty feet toward the ceiling, thick and lush, with leaves the size of Maddox’s body. Large, colorful insects with translucent wings chirped and buzzed as they flitted through the air. Flowers—red and yellow and purple—bloomed, beautiful and beckoning nearby.

Becca moved closer to one of the flowers, as if to smell its honey-like scent up close, but before she could try, its thick petals snapped shut on a passing butterfly like the maw of a beast in disguise.

A butterfly-eating flower, Maddox thought, his stomach turning. He would rather not know what else these plants would like to feast upon.

The pathway, overflowing with beings of both life and death, led to a dozen steps precisely chiseled into black rock. At the top was a large obsidian throne.

On the throne sat the goddess.

Valoria.

Maddox stopped breathing at the sight of her. The rumors of her beauty were all true. The woman was flawless, with raven-black hair and skin like pale gold. Her eyes were green chips of emerald, the same color of the leaves and foliage that surrounded her. Her gown, with its lengthy train that trailed down several steps, was crimson.

Maddox’s eyes were drawn to a sudden movement under the silk of the train. Then he saw something slither out from beneath it.

He gasped.

“Yes,” Valoria said, and Maddox could feel her smooth voice sink down to his very bones. “That is the reaction Aegus usually gets from my prisoners. But don’t be afraid. He only bites at my command.”

His heart pounded. He’d never seen an actual cobra before. Only in books—illustrations of incredible creatures found in other lands, other kingdoms—had he encountered these beasts. This serpent was much bigger than he would have ever imagined, easily six feet long.

He’d heard that the goddess had an affinity for serpents. That she used earth magic to command the creatures that spent their lives with their bellies pressed to the dirt. Lizards, beetles, rodents . . . but snakes were her favorite.

The cobra eyed him, its tongue tasting the air, before it turned its cold gaze away and slithered beneath Valoria’s gown again.

“Welcome to my palace, young man,” Valoria purred. Her hands, bejeweled with rings and golden bracelets, grasped the arms of her black throne. “I’ve heard some interesting tales about you.”

He kept his eyes to the mossy floor.

“The only question is: Are these tales true or not?” She stood up and slowly descended the stairs to where Maddox was forced to his knees before her. She touched under his chin, her skin as cold as marble despite the heat of the room. Perspiration trickled down his forehead as he raised his gaze to meet hers.

“Do you fear me?” she asked.

Yes, very much so, he thought.

He wondered what response she wanted. “No, my goddess.”