Free Queen of Ashes by Eleanor Herman Page B

love with her,” Riel explains, “and when she died, he rescued her from the Underworld and flew her to Mount Olympus, where she lived as a goddess. Princess Leukothea of Thebes became a sea goddess. And our god of love, Eros, fell in love with a princess called Psyche and made her a goddess so he wouldn’t have to see her grow old and die. And there are countless others. So you see, it is possible.”
    Laila’s mind reels at the thought. If she were a goddess, she could stop the drought. Make the crops grow. Keep plague out of her kingdom. But that is small thinking. She could rule all of Egypt...
    â€œCould you make me a goddess?” she asks. Her voice sounds so small asking such a huge question.
    â€œI could,” he says, nodding, “if I regained my divinity. As it is, I don’t have the powers of a god, just...” He makes a dismissive gesture out the window. “...these tricks. But the problem is I need Brehan to get back my powers. The ritual requires both of us together, just as we were when we lost them. And he won’t listen to me. He says he doesn’t want to be a god anymore.”
    Laila frowns. “Why wouldn’t he want—”
    Riel waves a hand impatiently. “He loves to infuriate me. He’s probably just playing a game. But I think that you, Princess,” he says, lowering his voice and stroking her cheek again, “can sway him. You fascinate him because you look like
her
, the girl he loved.”
    â€œNo,” Laila says, pulling away. She remembers the anger in Brehan’s eyes when he looked at her last night, the profound disgust in every line of his face, as if he couldn’t believe he had ever loved a woman so weak and proud. “I don’t want to speak to him ever again. Plus, he said you were a liar.”
    Riel looks at her pityingly. “A liar always calls others liars,” he says. “And you clearly don’t know whom to trust. After all, before I got here, you trusted the word of a murderer.”
    Laila’s heart stutters. That can’t be. Brehan, no matter how he may have toyed with her, is basically a good person. Saving the grain from the storm. Building the new irrigation system. Visiting the plague victims. Truly caring for her people. A man like that could never murder someone.
    â€œWhat do you mean, murderer?” she asks because she has to, not because she wants to know the answer.
    He snorts. “My dear brother killed the person he loved most in the world. Cassandra.”
    â€œThat can’t be,” she says.
    â€œIt’s true. Ask him, if you doubt me.”
    Laila puts her head in her hands. Brehan has been lying to her the whole time about who he is, about the kind of person he is. Pretending to be so morally righteous. Not accepting any reward from her, telling her he just wanted to help her people.
    Something in her gut twists with a cruel spasm and she wonders if she is going to be sick. Then she feels even sicker when realizes she must still care about Brehan or her body wouldn’t react in this way. No, she isn’t over him. She is in love with a murderer.
    What should she do? She will harden her heart. She will learn to hate him. To hate both of them. This one is no better.
    â€œWhat you just told me makes me even less inclined to talk to him,” she says, getting off the bed. “He won’t listen to anything I say anyway.”
    â€œOh, but he will,” Riel answers smoothly. “Why don’t you try? Tell him you want to go to the Fountain of Youth, that I said you should come with us. If you go, I think he might agree to come with me.”
    She stands, smooths her wrinkled sheath and stares at him angrily. “No. I will not try. This discussion is over.”
    His mask of friendly persuasion drops in a heartbeat, replaced by a look of cold anger. He snaps his fingers, and the cloud of butterflies swarms back through the window,