A Tribute of Fire (The Eye of the Goddess, #1)

by Sariah Wilson

The former Daemonian general spent his time either not speaking at all or yelling at the top of his lungs. During our training, there had been no middle ground. I didn’t even know if he knew my name. He only ever called me “stupid girl.”

My throat felt tight, like there was a large lump that I couldn’t swallow. “Thank you.” At my words, the men fell silent, all their faces turned toward me. “Thank you,” I repeated. “For all your help and for including me. And for not telling anyone.” Andronicus, their captain, got to his feet. He was twenty years old—a couple of years older than I was—and coming to the end of his mandatory service in the army. “You have earned our gratitude and loyalty,” he said. He balled his hand into a fist and laid it across his chest, the gesture one soldier made to another. “Every one of us would take your place if we could, and we respect the sacrifice that you are going to make for Locris. One for many.” Then every other member of the regiment stood and did the same. Tears filled my eyes, but I would not cry in front of them. They would never respect me again if I did. I put my fist over my own chest, returning the honor they’d given me. “One for many,” I repeated.

“You must always remember that all the answers you need are in the written word,” she continued. “In scrolls, in poems, in songs, in books. Find the right words and you will have your answer.”

I sighed. I didn’t want to die without ever kissing someone.

A figure stepped around one of the columns and came closer. A different man. And as soon as I saw his face, my heart whispered, Oh, there you are. I’ve been waiting for you.

His words were ruining him for me.

I realized that at some point he had changed from an arrogant, smug braggart to something else. Something I’d turned him into. He was no longer in control or instructing me, no longer amused by me or the things I was saying. No, he unraveled against me, bit by bit. His breathing was ragged; his heart thundered in his chest. He shuddered against me.

“Stupid girl.” Demaratus had never said those words to me in that tone before. He was usually angry and shouted them at me. Now they were soft, sweet. There was so much emotion in his voice—regret, concern, and something that felt like love. But when I turned to face him, his expression had gone blank, his voice closer to his regular monotone. “Try not to die.”

A loud, watery roar emanated from the depths beneath us, making the entire ship vibrate and pitch. “What was that?” Quynh asked, looking every bit as terrified as I felt. “A dragon,” Jason responded as he pulled out his sword.

A dragon. There was a water dragon beneath us.