Knight of the Goddess (Blood of a Fae, #4)

by Briar Boleyn

I slept uneasily, dreaming of a long-forgotten civilization where my father ruled as king. I dreamed of my brothers fighting over a mortal woman until they had torn her asunder. I dreamed of my sister, Tempest, sitting beside a fountain filled with blood, drinking from a red-rimmed goblet.

But more importantly, you didn’t dream about your father…

But to do so would mean finding our way on our own, as the grail’s beam of guiding light went only down the stairs in front of us, forcing us forward.

So just how did Rychel get out of that place… or even Daegen, Lorion, or Tempest. Sassarine obviously stitched…

We picked up our pace, continuing our descent, anticipation building with each step.

Jut because it’s liquid doesn’t mean it’s water and even if it is water it doesn’t mean it’s drinkable…

He took a swig from the flask before I could stop him. “Really?” I narrowed my eyes. “Such as?”

But instead of voicing why you were thinking of stopping him, possibly to hint at the danger of the water, you continue on with the conversation as if you never intended to stop him in the first place. So why even mention that you would have stopped him?

“Where does the grail want us to go next?” Draven asked as he drained a flask of water and leaned down to refill it again.

In the same water he just washed his ass and clothes in… ew.

I realized something.

Now you realize you slept without dreaming of your father…

crawled over to the edge of the pool and leaned against it.

How do you lean against the side of an underground pool?

In the morning, we climbed flight after flight of winding stairs, leading up and away from the tranquil pool until, by about noon, we seemed to have reached a new area inside of the mountain.

Well, that’s better than the day and night you said it took to walk down…

“I suppose I could tie you to me with a rope. Would you like that?” “Which part of me would you tie?” I asked before I could stop myself.

And there was nothing sexual to be imagined about that at all so I don’t even know why the author tried to make it so… 🙄🙄

We quickened our pace a little.

Not full on ran though huh… 🙄🙄

Draven’s hand found mine and squeezed. “Run?” “I like your plan,” I gasped.

You would think that’d be instinctive and no reason to ask…

I imagined my father riding on the back of an exmoor and braced myself.

Your father, …in a ball of light? That’s what you’re imagining after the description given of brightness? Smh.

Draven moved to my side, his weapon already free.

Why would his weapon be put away when you already knew something was coming and could possibly attack? The dumb shish.

An anguished expression twisted the flaming creature’s features, as if she were under the weight of unbearable torment.

I have a feeling she’s related to the grail in some way. What if she can burn it… what if it belongs to her…

My heart raced. No, not me. She was not pointing at me.

Yep, it’s not always about you boo…

But what if the stories had gotten it wrong? Very, very wrong.

Which is normally done purposefully…

I already knew one part of the story that had been badly misshapen. Perun was not Marzanna’s brother. He was her father.

I knew it! From that little excerpt where the three girls were tied to tries and one said, “Father, you don’t have to do this.” I knew then what was up…

shook the grail. “Did you create this? Did you create any of the objects? The sword by my side, this sickle? The spear?”

Yeah, sort of. Their father sacrificed them or a part of them in some sick ritual to make them. That’s my guess..

“I will never let my father have it.

So I hope Draven is real he was right and that she is a goddess since her and this goddess share the same father…

I swore to the woman.

Your sister…

“You and that... thing?”

Now why would the author have him call her that? As fae, he should know MORE about the stories of the goddesses and have been able to put two and two together a lot better and more thoroughly than the dumb Morgan did. As soon as she called her Zoya, his brain should have Ben firing pistons and figuring it out, seeing the big picture… even if just speculation.

“I don’t know what she is exactly now,” I went on. What I was. What we were. “But before she was turned into this... thing, she was Zorya. I know it beyond a shadow of a doubt. And I also know that”—I took a deep breath—“she’s my aunt.”

Your aunt? So Gorlois isn’t your father if he was their father. And if she’s your aunt, you could be the child that the prophecy was about just like I guessed before… I hope clarity is given because this is all over the place with the family tree..

“Anyhow,” I said, suddenly weary, “I’m going to do it. I’m going to help her. Especially if it rids Aercanum of this cursed thing once and for all.”

But then, explain what the point of you dying before killing your father means for the story? He will still be powerful and still can reign terror upon Aercanum…

I shot him a grateful look, then lowered the grail to the bridge, setting it in the center of the path.

Doesn’t seem like the middle of the stone bridge you’re standing on over a deep unending chasm is the appropriate place for such work…

I lifted Excalibur in both hands, ignoring the sting of pain from the cut.

You know how to heal yourself sooo, that’s pointless to endure…

My sword still out, we braced ourselves for the arrival of whatever was coming up out of the deep. The rumbling grew louder.

And instead of trying o run further to get off the bridge, you stand there, of all places, to wait to fight?

Clearly it was seeking retribution for the destruction of the grail. My father must have sensed what we had done and sent this minion to punish us.

Is that really clear? I was thinking it was here because you took Zorya from it or something. Maybe that was his mate. They did come up from the same place, both living down there in that chasm… 🤷🏽‍♀️

My brow furrowing in concentration, I tried again, waiting for the blaze to extend from my fingertips and dance towards the demonic creature of darkness.

Maybe that’s what was taken from her… well that sucks. Zorya was flame after all. She could have warned them of what was down below though…

I watched him clench his jaw and brace his feet, struggling to stay upright as the strength of the creature pushed against him.

You watched him… instead of trying to make your own shadow weapon to aid him in fighting this monstrous thing, you WATCH him struggle…

What else was there?

Um, now would be the time to use Excalibur… all those times you reach for it instead of flames when flames would have been easier. This time when you need to reach for it instead of flames, you go for the flames first. You are just a massive f-up…

For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if she might prevail.

And you’re wasting this precious time when you could be dithering running off the perilous bridge or trying to attack with her to take it down… but as usual, I’m sure you’re going to wait until the advantage is gone…

But at least she had tried.

While you did nothing in appreciation of her assistance…

Then, looking back, I saw that the bridge itself was crumbling behind us.

They are on a bridge, which way is crumbling? “Behind them” is not an accurate description when they have been fighting and destroying things and at one point stood back to back. We don’t know which way they are facing… Anyway, this is why the dummies should have been moving while Zorya was fighting for them to do so.

“Morgan.” Draven’s voice sounded strained in my ear. His hand gripped my wrist. “Morgan, we have to go.” “No.” I shook my head frantically. “Go? We can’t go now. You don’t understand...” “No,” he said, his jaw tightening. “It’s you who doesn’t understand.”

This is the dumbest freaking MC! The bridge is crumbling, you already wasted precious time watching Zorya and now you want to waste even more watching Nightclaw! Just let her die on the bridge Draven. You don’t need the headache of such stupidity in your life any longer.

Too late it dawned on me what the bird and the cat were doing.

Probably trying to buy your dumbass time that you are once again squandering…

“God? You mean my father?” “The God.” The maidservant sounded displeased. “The Divine One beckons you to his glorious presence.”

Your father, but also Zorya, your aunts father…

I went with her. Not because I enjoyed following commands. But because my most pressing goal was to find Draven.

Yet you woke up and went to look out of the window instead of out the door to find him…

Four guards flanked the entrance, decked in pristine white uniforms. Each held a spear made of silver, ornately decorated with gemstones.

Did she not see the guards in her vision when Lorion and Daegen fought over a human woman?

This man, this being, bore only a vague resemblance to the man in my dreams and his portraits. He was alien. Inhuman. Un-fae. Pale with a hairless head, his skin stretched taut over a rigid and angular face. Like the maidservant, his limbs were unnaturally elongated and his fingers long and sinewy with muscle, like the hands one might imagine in a nightmare clambering out of a grave.

Well… that was unexpected…

towering over us all like a specter of death.

Who is us?

Vela’s eyes narrowed. “Do you even know who you are?” She gestured to Draven. “Who he is? Have the scales finally fallen from your ignorant little eyes?”

So they are indeed the ones that that village was celebrating that night, Khor and somebody, the sex village. But I don’t remember who Vela is to them… Author really sucks… expecting the audience to remember something from book 1 or something. How much time has passed since they were released.

“He is my mate. He doesn’t want you. He hasn’t wanted you in a very, very long time.”

So that means he did want her at one point? Also, who is she to Gorlois? Was she sitting beside him with Draven between her legs.

“Oh, Marzanna.

Wish that somewhere in this book Marzanna’s story had been retold or recap so the rest of us would have an understanding right now and know what is going on, what they are talking about… alas… the author sucks.

The room was not walled behind the dais. Instead, it opened up onto a grove of oak trees surrounded by white marble arches. In the center of the grove lay a familiar-looking table.

Is this the place where he had them tied to the trees?

I watched Morgan with a reverence that never waned. My mate, my empress, my heart. She was utterly magnificent. A perfect mingling of grace and strength. She radiated with a luminescence that could rival the stars themselves.

Oh dear, now it’s time for the finale and we have to have someone talk up this useless, ignorant female lead so that the audience can forget all of the stupid, selfish etc things that she has done, the ignorance… all of that, so we can now see her solely as a powerful heroine who defeats the evil forces… utterly ridiculous.

The embodiment of all that was good and true in this world.

But he was also the one that fought by Vela’s side fighting innocents at one point so…that’s a stretch.

She screamed as she slid to the floor.

Shouldn’t she have screamed as she was flying towards the wall, not after she hit in and was sliding down in. Kind of a late response to… everything.

“Enough,” my father’s voice rang out. “What is the meaning of this?”

Is it not obvious? Did you think she came for Vela to steal her name and to submit to you? But thanks for the comfy bed and time to rest.

“You know damned well where it is,” I said. “Gone.”

Maybe he doesn’t actually know. You assumed he sent the shadow beast thingy, like I said.

“Lies,” I said calmly. “The grail is gone. The world is still standing. And it’ll remain that way, if I have any say in it.”

Actually, you don’t know if the world is still standing because your father has built his own little slice of heaven above the clouds…