Chapter 23 The goddess trial
Chapter 23
The goddess Trial
Max ran until the smoke of his burning camp was out of sight, until the shouts and clangs and screams were a memory. His lungs burnt and his legs shook, but he had not stopped until the forest closed in around him. When at last he stumbled onto a clearing, he fell to his knees, put his hands in the dirt and breathed hard.
He was alone.
That truth settled slowly-heavier than any wound. His camp was gone. His men were scattered and dead. The prince had taken the girl away leaving Max rage and nothing but silence.
Max raised his head and looked into the full moon, suspended above the trees, bright and indifferent, as she had always been. His jaw tightened. He stood up with blood on his skin and walked into the middle of the clearing.
"You've been watching me for years," his voice was rough but clear. "Stop pretending that you don't hear me now."
The wind shifted. Leaves trembled. The forest seemed awake.
"They took everything," Max continued, pacing the clearing. "They took my father. They took my place. They took my future. And tonight, they took her too."
His hands curled into fists. "You let it happen."
The ground became frozen under him. Moonlight reduced itself to a pin-thin beam that pinched him. Max took a breath but did not move back.
"Show yourself," he said. "If you judge me, do it face to face."
The air grew heavier and heavier on his chest. Then a still ancient voice filled the clearing heavy enough to bend his knees.
"You broke but you still challenge me," the Moon Goddess said.
Light gathered before him, formed itself into a tall and glow. Max fell on his knees under the pressure but his head was held high.
"I was born into blood," he said. "My father was supposed to be Alpha." He was murdered for power. I was eight years old. I watched him die. "I watched his blood soak the ground whilst others were rejoicing over his fall."
The light was flickering but did not go away.
"My mother had run with me into the woods," Max continued. "We lived like hunted animals. She died protecting me. I grew up with nothing but anger and hunger and the fact that crowns are made of lies."
The Goddess looked after him without expression.
"They call me rogue," Max said. "But I was made this way."
"You chose your way," the Goddess responded. "Pain does not excuse cruelty."
Max laughed, sharp and bitter. "Cruelty raised me. Cruelty rules them. I only learned the lesson that they taught."
The moonlight brightened and burned against his skin. Max gritted his teeth but he did not scream.
"You sought to have what wasn't yours," the Goddess said. "You turned desire into chains."
"I wanted what was taken from me," shot back Max. "I wanted something that was my own."
The light flared up and hit him flat to the ground. Silver flames winded round his bosom, burning deep. Max cried out as the pain tore through him and it was stronger than any blade.
"This is your own judgment," the Goddess said. "Your claim is ash. Your power is broken. You will not reign by force or by fear."
The fire burned through him and stripped something that was seen not but important. Max took in a gasp, clawing at the dirt as the weight lifted at last.
When he looked up the light was already fading.
"You will not die," the Goddess said. "And you will remember."
The presence vanished. The clearing was again silent.
Max lay there for a long time, heaving his chest, shaking his body. When he finally pushed himself up, his eyes were wet, but hard. The mark that he had felt inside him was gone, hollowed out and empty.
"They think this is going to end me," he muttered.
He slowly stood up, with pain in every movement, and looked towards the dark wood where the prince had disappeared.
"It doesn't," Max said. "It sharpens me."
With nothing left to lose Max stepped into the shadows with a hatred deeper than before and the moon watched him go without mercy.
After the trial, Max did not fall asleep. He waited at the edge of a forest until dawn bled in the sky. His body ached, his chest was hollow where there was once something burning. When the light dimmed, he turned and walked back to where the scattered remains of his people were. Small groups were waiting for him among trees and broken rocks and watching his face, searching for the answers too anxious to speak aloud.
He raised his hand and there was silence.
"Spread out," Max said. His voice carried easily. "I want every path checked. Each and every river, each and every border close to Redcreek land. "Bring me signs, scents, footprints, anything that will show where she was taken."
A man stepped forward. "The Lycan prince covered their trail," he said.
"I know," Max replied. "That doesn't mean it's gone."
On the instant they moved, breaking into groups and slipping smoothly away into the woods, where they were practiced. Max stayed put with arms crossed eyes fixed on the distance. Time moved very slowly by and each minute weighed heavily on his sense of control.
When they came back it was late afternoon.
One by one, shaking their heads. "Nothing," one said. "The trail ends off near the cliffs."
"We followed the river south," another put in. "No trace."
A third spoke last, his tone low. "It's like she vanished."
Max sat there and listened without interruption. His face remained calm, but there was a tightening dark shadow behind his eyes.
"Go," he said at last. "Rest. Stay alert."
They hesitated, then obeyed.
Alone again the distant land of Redcreek confronted Max. His hands were clenched at his sides. "You think hiding her saves you," he whispered to the empty air. "You think you won."
He slowly exhaled, and raised his head. "I lost my father through Redcreek." I lost my life to their greed. And now they are protecting what I was denied."
A cold smile curled his mouth. "I don't need her to start this."
The forest apparently inclined closer while he was talking. "I will pull down Redcreek piece by piece. I will expose their lies. I will burn their alliances. And when they fall, she will see who they really are."
Max turned away, planning already, turning loss into purpose already. The moon could be seen again on the rise above him, pale and distant.