Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [52]
“Kender with horns,” Nightshade said to give himself courage. “Kender with horns.”
Atta growled, and Rhys silenced her.
Chemosh ignored the dog and the kender. He flicked an uninterested glance at Rhys. The lord’s attention was focused on Mina. His face was tight, livid with anger. His dark eyes were cold.
Mina stared at Chemosh from behind the barricade formed by the monk’s staff and Rhys felt her tremble. He tightened his hold on her reassuringly.
“I don’t like this man,” Mina said in a shaky voice. “Tell him to go away.”
Chemosh came to a halt and glared down at the little red-haired girl sheltering in Rhys’s arms.
“You can end this game of yours now, Mina,” he said. “You have made me look the fool. You’ve had your laugh. Now come back home with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Mina retorted. “I don’t even know you. And Goldmoon told me never to talk to strangers.”
“Mina, stop this nonsense—” Chemosh began angrily, and he reached out his hand to seize her.
Mina kicked the Lord of Death in the shin.
Nightshade sucked in a breath and closed his eyes and waited for the world to end. When the world kept going, Nightshade opened his eyes a slit to see that Rhys had pulled Mina behind him, shielding her with his body. Chemosh was looking exceedingly grim.
“You are putting on a very fine show, Mina, but I have no time for play-acting,” he stated impatiently. “You will come with me, and you will bring with you the artifacts you basely stole from the Hall of Sacrilege. Or I will shortly be seeing your friends in the Abyss—”
Lashing rain drowned out the rest of Chemosh’s threat. The sky grew black as his cloak. Storm clouds boiled and bubbled. Zeboim arrived in a gust of wind and pelting hail.
The goddess leaned down and presented her cheek to Mina.
“Give your Auntie Zee a kiss, dear,” she said sweetly.
Mina buried her face in Rhys’s robes.
Zeboim shrugged and shifted her gaze to Chemosh, who was regarding her with an expression as dark and thunderous as the storm.
“What do you want, Sea Bitch?” he demanded.
“I was worried about Mina,” Zeboim replied, bestowing an affectionate glance on the girl. “What are you doing here, Lord of Rot?”
“I was also concerned—” Chemosh began.
Zeboim laughed. “Concerned with how royally you screwed things up? You had Mina, you had the tower, you had the Solio Febalas, you had the Beloved. And you’ve lost it all. Your Beloved are a gruesome pile of greasy ash lying at the bottom of the Blood Sea. My brother has the tower. The High God has claimed the Solio Febalas. As for Mina, she’s made it painfully clear she wants nothing more to do with you.”
Chemosh did not need to hear the litany of his misfortune recited back to him. He turned his back on the goddess and knelt down beside Mina, who regarded him in wary amazement.
“Mina, my dear, please listen to me. I’m sorry if I frightened you. I’m sorry I hurt you. I was jealous …” Chemosh paused, then said, “Come back to my castle with me, Mina. I miss you. I love you …”
“Mina, my pet, don’t go anywhere with this horrid man,” said Zeboim, shoving the Lord of Death out of the way. “He’s lying. He doesn’t love you. He never did. He’s using you. Come live with your Auntie Zee …”
“I’m going to Godshome,” said Mina, and she took hold of Rhys’s hand. “And it’s a long way from here, so we have to get started. Come on, Mister Monk.”
“Godshome,” said Chemosh after a moment’s astonished silence. “That is a long way from here.” He turned on his heel and walked back to his horse. Mounting, he gazed down at Rhys from beneath dark and lowering brows. “A very long way. And the road is fraught with peril. I’ve no doubt I’ll be seeing you again shortly, Monk.”
He dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and rode off in ire. Zeboim watched him leave, then she turned back to Rhys.
“It is a long way, Rhys,” said Zeboim with a playful smile. “You will be on the road for months, perhaps years. If you live that long.