Page 33 of Rise of the Gods: Vardor's Destiny
"You are delusional. Nobody can read these ancient hieroglyphics," she scorned.
I raised an eyebrow at her; she had courage. The courage of a lion, but the stature of a rabbit. She had no power to backher words up. None. And she had to know this, which made me admire her even more.
"Since it was me inside the coffin, I do know what these hieroglyphs mean," I explained.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then she looked at me like one would a petulant child. "You did not awaken in this coffin."
I pulled a cream handkerchief out of my pocket. The blood on it had long since dried. RW was embroidered in a corner. "This is yours, I believe."
A tremor moved through her as she looked at it. "That doesn't prove anything."
"This ring," I grabbed her hand and held it up, forcing her to look at the black pearl, "you took it from this sarcophagus."
She paled. Her head moved from side to side as she tried to deny my claim. With a short cry, she snatched her hand from mine. "That doesn't prove anything," she repeated.
"You took it back, but before, you put it inside, just before you had me sealed up for thousands of years," I said patiently.
She stared at me, but her head was still moving. She grabbed her hand wearing the ring with the other as if worried I might take it from her.
"You—"
The door above creaked open.
Roweena's lips parted, ready to let out a scream, but I was on her. Putting my palm over her lips, I pulled her back behind the crates where I usually hid when workers came with a delivery or to take something away.
Roweena kicked and squirmed like a cat caught in a sack. Her eyes saw it the moment I did, an old oil lamp stood on one of the crates. I had used it on several occasions when I went to explore parts of the storage chamber the light above didn't quite reach. Her legs moved up; she was ready to kick it to the ground.Thankfully her long skirt stopped her, but her feet reached the crate, and she kicked it hard enough to send the lamp teetering. A curse escaped me underneath my breath. My hand pulled out one of the knives I had taken from the low men at our hiding spot and charged forward. I didn't care if she screamed now. I couldn't stop the lamp from falling, just like I couldn't stop the workers from hearing it. I pushed forward just as the lamp shattered on the ground.
"What—"
That was as far as he got before I banged his head against that of his companion, knocking them both out. I fell to my knees to slit the first one's throat, when Roweena cried out, "No... please... don't!"
I looked at her in astonishment. Vaelora had never given a second thought to the death of a mortal. She would have never interfered or stopped me.
"Please," Roweena pleaded. "They don't know anything, let's just... go, please."
I hesitated. I wouldn't have thought twice about killing these men, but Roweena had just unwittingly given me the weapon I needed to keep her quiet. In order for it to work, I needed to keep these men alive.
"You will walk out of here with me willingly?"
Tears shimmered in her eyes, nearly killing me. Vaelora had never cried. To see my beloved's face, her eyes filled with compassion, did something to me, turned my gut and heart in a way... I hadn't felt since before I became a god.
She nodded, wringing her hands. "I will. I swear. Just don't kill them, please."
I sheathed the knife and stood. "Alright. But one word from you, and the first person we meet will have to pay for it, understand?"
She kept nodding. "Yes."
"Alright. They'll be out for a while anyway, so find some clothes for yourself in that crate." I pointed at the one I had opened before the men had interrupted me.
She pulled a dress out and then another, giving me a funny look. "What?" I demanded.
"I can't wear these," she refused.
"Why not, what's wrong with them?"
A deep conflict rushed over her expression. She was visibly torn between explaining it to me and weighing her chances of what would happen if she didn't.
"I don't care who or how many mortals I have to kill, Roweena," I warned.
