Page 255 of Starside

Not a single shred of regret passes across her glorious face. The gems that ornament her body simply keep shining.

I take a step forward. “My village. You burned it to the ground.” Hundreds of lives reduced to ashes. I take her in. “You don’t care, do you?”

“I’m a god,” she says flatly. “I’ve lived millennia. I’ve watched millions be born and die. I’ve watched kingdoms and worlds rise and fall. I don’t care about anyone, unless they threaten us.”

Us. The gods.

“So why?” I demand, my voice shaking with the question. “Why me? Why my family? If you don’t care … then why did you do that?” Why did you have to do that? Tears sting my eyes. I imagine a world where she didn’t. Where she left us alone. Where I didn’t have to trek across this beautiful and brutal world just to get revenge.

“Because of the prophecy,” she says simply, without a morsel of emotion. “You posed a threat. I tried to eliminate it.”

Prophecy. There’s that word again.

She thinks it’s about me. The paladin who was promised.

I step forward. It doesn’t matter, I know that. This is all about to end, but I can’t not know. I can’t not know why everything I loved had to be ripped away from me. Because I was right. Now I know for certain. It was my fault.

“What prophecy?” I demand.

The goddess’s lips just curl into a smile, like she finds my anger and ignorance amusing.

She still hasn’t summoned a weapon to this duel.

“You should be more afraid,” I tell her, voice echoing through this room that glimmers like we are sitting inside of one of the stones growing from her marble-smooth skin. “Because even if you are the God of Travels, I can imagine opening the gates was not a small task. That’s a long way to go to eliminate a simple threat. You were afraid of me. Now I’m here … summoning you to a duel … and you don’t look afraid at all.”

“No,” she says simply. “I’m not. Because I can smell your wants, human. I know everything you feel. Your emotions are like the strings of an instrument, and I have them all here, laid out nicely in front of me. Which is why I know there’s something you want even more than your revenge.”

My voice is full of rage. “I don’t want anything—”

“You want them back.”

The world stills. The rage in my blood freezes over. Everything goes very quiet. Because I would do anything. Anything …

“Of course I do. But that’s impossible.” My voice is a rasp.

“It’s not,” she says. “And, if you make an oath on your blood not to kill me, I will tell you how.”

A blood oath. I imagine it’s the same as swords, but if broken … I will break.

“You’re lying,” I say, the words trembling. I refuse to believe what must be a lie from this goddess I hate with every shred of my being.

“I do not lie,” she says. She tears one of the gems off her skin, and blood races from the spot. It’s silver, just like the swirling power in my goblet. She dips her fingers in it. “I swear on my blood that there is a way, and I know it. I will tell you … if you agree not to kill me.”

Impossible.

The need for vengeance pounds through my skull. Burns through my blood. I have worked years for this. Fought countless dangers, survived endless challenges, just for this moment.

I lift the starblade, wanting to end her. Needing to end her. But instead of throwing it through her neck … I drop it at my feet.

The words feel wrong. I never believed, in a thousand years, that I would be speaking them. But I do. Clearly. Desperately. “I swear on my blood that I will not kill you, goddess.”

It takes everything in me to step over my blade, to walk toward her as she smirks, placing her hand in mine.

Our blood mixes, and I feel the oath racing down my veins, straight to my heart. It’s done.

I stumble back, slightly light-headed, almost tripping, wondering if I’ve made a grave mistake. When I finally face her again, my voice is steady. “Speak,” I demand.

“Kill the God of Death, and you can bring back your family.”