Chapter 2

"This laurel tree blocks the sunlight from the bedchamber. Helen's too frail for the cold and shade."

Arthur stood in the center of the courtyard, gripping a dark-gold divine axe.

The tree went back eight hundred years.

To win Cynthia's favor, he had crossed the frozen wastelands in an act of grueling penance to obtain the sacred seed.

He had said this tree would stand with her, a witness to their eternal bond.

Now he was going to chop it down with his own hands.

Cynthia was sitting on the steps, brushing my fur.

"This tree has been growing for eight hundred years. Its roots have already merged with the temple's ley lines."

She didn't look up.

"If you force it down, you'll damage the ley lines."

Arthur frowned.

"Helen coughed through the entire night.

"The healer said she needs plenty of sunlight to drive the cold from her body.

"It's only damage to the ley lines. I'll restore them with my power."

He stepped forward and raised the axe.

I tore free of Cynthia's arms and raced to the tree, clamping my teeth around the axe handle with everything I had.

This tree could not be cut down.

A sliver of Cynthia's soul lay buried beneath it.

She had used it all those years ago to coax the seed to life.

She had torn that sliver from her own soul.

If the tree fell, Cynthia's soul would be gravely wounded.

"Get out of the way."

Arthur kicked me in the stomach.

I curled into a ball, gasping in pain.

Cynthia rose at once and hurried to my side, gathering me into her arms.

"Arthur, this tree matters to me."

Her voice was a little hoarse, with a plea so faint it was almost impossible to hear.

Eight hundred years she had stood beside him.

Never once had she spoken to him in that tone, until now.

Arthur's grip on the axe tightened.

Conflict flickered in his eyes.

Just then, Helen emerged from the side chamber in a thin nightgown.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, coughing violently.

"Arthur, please, just let it go.

"Cynthia can't bear to lose this tree. I'll just wear more layers.

"Cough, cough... at worst, I'll just... I'll stop seeking treatment."

Her body went limp, and she fell straight toward the ground.

Arthur dropped the axe and caught her just in time.

"Don't talk nonsense."

Arthur stroked her face tenderly.

He turned back to Cynthia.

Every trace of hesitation had vanished from his eyes.

"It's just a tree.

"Are you really going to stand by and watch Helen die over a dead piece of wood?"

He beckoned, and the divine axe flew back to his hand.

Golden power surged into the blade.

Its edge erupted in blinding light.

Crack!

The laurel tree let out a shrill, anguished cry.

A deep gash split its trunk.

Cynthia's body jolted. The color drained from her face in an instant.

Arthur didn't stop.

The second strike fell.

Then came a third.

A thunderous crash rang through the courtyard.

The laurel tree collapsed.

Sunlight poured in unobstructed, stinging my eyes.

Cynthia clutched her chest and stared at Arthur.

"Are you satisfied now?"

Arthur lowered the axe.

He didn't spare a glance at the broken branches and scattered leaves.

"Should've just let me do it from the start."

He lifted Helen and turned toward the side chamber.

Helen nestled in his arms and looked past his shoulder.

Her gaze settled on an ancient well in the corner of the courtyard.

That was the sacred spring.

"Arthur."

Helen's voice was faint.

"The healer said my medicine needs to be brewed with the purest water.

"That well over there looks perfect."

Arthur paused and followed her gaze.

"All right. I'll have someone draw from it right away."

"No."

Cynthia cut in.

Her voice was cold as ice.

"That is the Moon Goddess's Spring.

"Any mortal who drinks from it will burst apart and die."

Arthur gave a derisive laugh.

"Cynthia, just to keep Helen from using your things,

"you'd stoop to making up a lie like that?

"I'm a god now. You think I can't tell whether this water is poisonous?"

He waved his hand. A surge of power swept water from the spring.

It funneled straight into Helen's medicine pot.

Cynthia closed her eyes.

She said nothing more.

That spring was what she used every day to suppress the divine curse within her.

The water was gone now.

Cynthia would have to endure the agony of the curse alone.

It happened that same afternoon.

Temple guards carried in crate after crate.

Inside were hundreds of sun emblems cast in pure gold.

"Helen says the temple feels too plain."

Arthur stood in the center of the great hall.

He directed the guards.

"Hang these in every corner.

"Especially across the ceiling of the main hall."

They were sun emblems.

They bore the sigil of Apollo, the sun god.

The Moon Goddess's temple was being filled with the sun god's emblems.

It was more than an insult to the Moon Goddess.

It was torture for Cynthia.

The Moon Goddess was vulnerable to intense light.

That was especially true now that the spring's protection was gone.

"Arthur."

Cynthia sat in the shadows.

"Must you push things this far?"

Arthur glanced at her pale face, a note of impatience in his voice.

"Helen likes sunlight. She needs sunlight.

"You're a goddess. Can't you show a mortal a little tolerance?

"This temple is Helen's home now."

He turned away.

Then he went back to directing the guards.

"Hang them higher. Don't let the shadows block them."