Page 84 of Taloned Heart

“That is what they believe all magic to be. It is why there has been so much struggle for so many years now.” Lore shrugged. “If they want to waste their time and energy building tiny shacks for their people, which will certainly not be welcomed with smiles and thanks, then they can waste that time.”

“Or, you could stop this foolishness now and provide them with a safe place to hide.” Lindon arched his brow and met her surprised stare. “You don’t have to make everything difficult for them simply because they do not worship at your altar.”

“And they do not have to deny me as though I do not exist.” Lore wanted to argue more with him, but she also knew he was right. She could make this easier on all of them. She could keep them safe in the night and keep their family warm.

The worst part was that a man like this was telling her to do so. Lindon had committed worse crimes than her standing here and making them work before her. She hated that he was the one who called her to task for such a thing.

Huffing out an angry breath, she glared at him. “You are supposed to be evil.”

“Yes, I’m certain your dragon still thinks that, and he has good reason to.” Lindon squinted off into the distance as though he could see the sky from their shadowy position. “But not everyone with dark magic is evil, just as not everyone with light magic is good. Besides, aren’t we all old enough now to realize evil and good are just a matter of perspective?”

“Gah. Old man, go away from me.”

“Only if you agree to help those poor sods who are breaking their backs while dwarves laugh at them.” He pointed in the direction of the newest house, currently surrounded by swearing humans and snickering magical creatures. “You’ll lose your army before you even build it.”

“I don’t like it when you’re right,” she muttered. “It’s downright disheartening.”

“Helpful, you mean.”

“Disturbing.” She winked at him. “The last person I want to get advice from is a man who quite possibly destroyed an entire kingdom with magic he should not have had.”

“Magic that you now understand,” he murmured. A shadow crossed in front of his eyes. “And should you need to speak of it...”

His words trailed off, but she knew what he offered, and she was grateful. “I will find you, Lindon. Should it come to that.”

It wouldn’t. It couldn’t. She would never let this power corrupt her, even though it was a great amount of it. She could always feel it, whispering in her mind about how much she could do and change. But that wasn’t her place. She wasn’t actually a goddess of old, or if she had become one, then she was so new at all this. Lore didn’t know what was acceptable or fair or what was even right. This was not the first time she would make decisions for the whole of a kingdom.

Still, Lindon was correct that she needed to intervene. Her people, her soldiers, were taxing themselves with undo cause and damn the Baron, who already sneered at her as she drew closer.

“The goddess approaches,” he said, his voice little more than a rasp of hatred. “Are we too loud for you, m’lady?”

She’d had just about enough of him. “Silence, Baron, or I will weave your lips together permanently so that I no longer need to listen to your childish prattling.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

She lifted a hand and grinned as he flinched. So he was not entirely foolish. At least he thought she had the power to do it, even if he laughed in the face of that fear.

Looking around, she caught the eye of the Matriarch and called out, “Do you mind if I borrow a bit of your forest for a time? I’ll make certain that it’s returned to its previous state once we all leave.”

“Please.” The Matriarch’s hand went to her temple, a subtle nod that even she was growing tired of the sounds of hammering and men arguing.

Good.

Lore lifted her hands and drew them together in complicated patterns that lifted the stones and metal all together. They rolled toward her, shaping into a new form, squishing and stretching until a small stone hut stood before her with a metal roof. Moss grew on the top and twigs poked out from the single window, looking very much like a completely and utterly abandoned building.

The Baron snorted. “This is what you provide us? The great Lady of Starlight, the Fallen Star the dwarves keep prattling on about? A hut?”

She gave him an unimpressed look before Algor suddenly popped up beside her.

“It ought to be fine enough for the likes of you,” the dwarf grumbled. “I’ve seen your human homes before and the states of them. This is better than what some of you live in.”

“I live in a manor, you little—”

Lore stepped in between them, her hand raised in something like a claw. “What did I say about your words, Baron? If I need to pluck out your tongue on top of sewing your mouth shut, I will.”

He silenced himself, though his ugly face turned red with the effort.

Turning around on her heel, she tried to split her face into a believing smile as she gestured at the hut for Algor. “Would you like to inspect it first, honored guest and king of the dwarves?”

---