“What?” Camulos asked.
“Hafgan and his close council have gone to see Andrasta. You’ve run out of time. And so has she.”
Helpless rage filled Camulos’ chest, pushing at his ribs until he thought they’d break. He’d welcome the pain—anything to distract from this powerlessness.
“Do it, Camulos. If you still have the chance. Send her to Otherworld rather than leave her to face the machinations and tortures of the gods.”
“What do they plan?”
“What does it matter? You’ll both be dead, lucky if you have your souls to go to Otherworld. They could destroy her. Who knows the whims of gods?” He laughed, bitterness and irony in the sound. “Do it, Camulos.”
Cernowain disappeared. Camulos wanted to roar his rage to the sky. Kill her to save her from a worse fate? She’d go to Otherworld to live out her days, but take her from earth to the cold nothingness of their afterworld?
She’d awakened something in him these last days, something he couldn’t describe but he couldn’t get enough of. As he couldn’t get enough of her. And now he had no choice but to take her life from her to save her from something more terrible?
Andrasta paced in front of the doorway to her house, wearing a path through the snow until it was nothing but mud. She shivered and pulled her woolen cloak tighter, fiddling with the bronze pin that held the top closed.
She should go see Camulos in the clearing.
No.
It was too dangerous. She’d been stupid to trust him. What did she know of the goals and desires of gods? He had to have a motivation in continuing to see her. She’d thought he’d liked her. That he’d cared for her, even.
But if what her brothers said was true, then he couldn’t possibly. She’d put herself at risk—and worse, far worse, she’d put her brothers at risk.
She continued to pace, weighing the sheer stupidity of going to the clearing against her desire to see Camulos. Maybe he did care for her. Or maybe she was being crazy.
With him, she’d leapt before she’d ever considered looking, just as her brothers always accused her of doing. And even though she regretted the danger she was putting her family in by dallying with a god, she couldn’t help but want to keep doing it.
She was too brave to be cowering like this. She gripped her bow tighter and turned toward the clearing. She’d go to him and demand to know his intentions.
She took a step off her well-beaten path, but suddenly four people stood before her.
No. Not people. Gods. They’d appeared out of the air and were dressed nothing like Camulos had been. He’d been clothed for battle, whereas these gods, two males and two females, were draped in gold. The torcs around their necks, the sparkling brooches on their cloaks, and the weapons hanging from their belts were all made of the precious metal.
Shock rooted her in place, her breath coming short and fast. Drawing the attention of four gods could only be bad. Her hand tightened around the smooth, comforting wood of her bow.
“Andrasta,” the dark-haired goddess said. She was extraordinarily beautiful, with sparkling blue eyes and cream-colored skin. A red cloak finer than any Andrasta had ever seen was draped around her.
Andrasta debated shaking her head. But they were gods. They knew exactly who she was. So she nodded and squared her shoulders, even though they could kill her before she saw it coming.
“You have a problem,” the dark-haired goddess said.
Indeed.
“Camulos is going to kill you.”
Her heart clutched. So it was most definitely true. “I know. Why are you here?”
“To make an arrangement with you. Camulos should have killed you weeks ago, the first time he saw you. Yet he didn’t. We don’t know why, but it’s dangerous. He’s dangerous. He’s no longer obeying the rules. Otherworld exists only because of our rules. Without them, we are lost.”
“How does this concern me?”
“We want you to kill him.”
Andrasta’s head snapped back. “What?”
“His behavior is erratic and has become dangerous. He’s too powerful. We want him gone.”