A Book of Spirits and Thieves

Valoria of the North was the goddess of earth and water. She commanded both elements, and her displays of magic were, as the stories went, as beautiful as they were terrifying.

The goddess of the South was Valoria’s sworn enemy. Contrary to the legends of Valoria’s beauty, she was said to be horrifically ugly and sadistically cruel to her subjects—rich and poor alike. Many claimed she was a glutton who ate the children of those citizens who crossed her. She commanded the elements of fire and air. She was never mentioned in the North by name, for it was against the laws of the land. But Maddox had heard whispers of her name many times before. Cleiona, a beautiful name for a repulsive goddess.

Some said the goddesses came from another world entirely—far apart from this one. That, despite the fact that Mytica was a small realm compared with the larger kingdoms across the sea, they had chosen it because it was a land of incomparable beauty—where their magic could rule.

Magic had once existed more plentifully here. Golden and flawless immortals—the same immortals Lord Gillis believed once used his gardens—were said to have once walked side by side among mortals.

All Maddox knew for sure was that there were no golden immortals in Mytica anymore—at least, none whom he’d seen with his own eyes. There were only two powerful goddesses to worship.

But there were some who wished to worship neither. A handful of rebels had risen up a decade ago but had been easily defeated by the goddesses and their armies.

In Central Mytica was a large swath of unsettled land that was considered neutral ground. Those who chose to live there did so in exile, without the protection or guidance of the powerful leaders to the north and south. Central Mytica was a wild and lawless land, one Maddox had no interest in ever visiting.

A fat woman festooned with flowers tucked into her hair and fastened to her dress merrily greeted Maddox and Livius as they entered the crowded festival. “Welcome to the Celebration of Her Radiance, the Goddess of Earth and Water!” She placed a daisy chain around each of their necks. “There is cider in the blue tent, and in the red tent, we have roasted chestnuts, seared goat, baked figs, fried fish tails—so much to eat! Have a wonder-filled day!”

“Thank you,” Maddox said, amazed by the mass of colorful tents, the delicious scent of freshly seared meat and just-picked delicacies, and the hundreds of people out enjoying the day of sunshine. Dozens of banners waved, adorned with the image of the goddess and the symbols of her elements—wavy lines for water, a circle within a circle for earth.

“Good sirs.” Another man approached with an ear-to-ear grin. “Allow me to show you my very special product.” He held up a clay pot filled with a brown substance, whose stench wrinkled Maddox’s nose. “This is manure from my favorite cow, who I believe to be a bovine witch that can conjure up earth magic in a rather creative way. Purchase this from me today, and I will guarantee your crops will grow better than—”

“Remove yourself from my sight,” Livius growled, shoving him out of the way. “Come on, Maddox. We don’t have time for such nonsense.”

“He says his cow is a witch.”

“He’s an idiot. Besides, we’re not here to take a pleasurable stroll through the vendors’ tents. We’re here for business.”

Maddox’s steps slowed as they approached a small yellow tent, just past a trio of jugglers in colorful garb and a pen of pigs and chickens. He’d rather inspect magical manure all day than help Livius with this task.

“Do I have to come in with you?” he asked.

“Yes,” Livius hissed. “Stop asking stupid questions.”

There were other questions Maddox wanted to ask. Such as: Why do I have to meet the man to whom you owe money? Do you think I’ll protect you with my magic?

If he could find a way to properly control and harness his magic, he certainly wouldn’t use it to protect Livius.

He cast another wistful look at the jugglers, all laughing as they performed for an enthusiastic audience. It looked like fun for both the audience and the performers.

Livius took a deep breath before he pulled back the flap and entered the tent. Maddox reluctantly followed him into the dark interior.

Two large, intimidating bodyguards stood by the entrance like a duo of ugly tree trunks, their thick arms crossed over their broad chests. Another man sat at a wooden table, attended by a buxom, young blond woman who served him food and drink.

“Livius!” The man smacked his lips after devouring a juicy rib of some unknown animal—likely from the pen of depressed-looking swine they’d passed—and wiped his greasy fingers on the loose silk ties of his shirt. “It’s been a long time.”