Bound in Darkness

Bound in Darkness
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

A Ballantine Books eBook

Copyright © 2015 by Jacquelyn Frank

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

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ALLANTINE
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OUSE
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ISBN 9780553393453

eBook ISBN 9780553393460

Cover design: Caroline Teagle

Cover photograph: © Regina Wamba/Ninestock

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M
axum clawed himself up out of the soil, spitting dirt, coughing it from his lungs with a roar of fury and frustration. He would think he would be used to it by now, used to the pain that came from the sheer weight of the rock and soil that pressed against him from all sides. Suffocated him from all directions. Filled every orifice, every crack, every crevice of his body as it fought to get inside of him—crushing him didn't seem to be enough to satisfy it.

He finally pulled himself fully free of the dirt and lay on the ground, panting and coughing. He spit. Spit again. It was a lost cause. Dirt caught between his teeth, stuck to his tongue.

And so it would be. It would always be. He was cursed. Cursed to be swallowed by soil and stone every night from dusk to juquil's hour.

He supposed he should be grateful. Until several full turnings ago he had been trapped permanently in the ground, held deep in the soil of the bottom of the ocean, with no reprieve. He had since been rescued from his permanent fate and been given this one instead, thanks to his brother Jaykun, who had won the grace of a god, just as easily as the four brothers, Dethan, Jaykun, Garreth, and Maxum, had won the fury of the gods with a single act of hubris over two centuries ago.

He and his brothers had climbed the highest mountain in the world that day, finding there a fountain of immortality blessed and protected by the gods—and they had dared to drink from its waters without permission from the gods. The backlash for their gall had been instantaneous and severe. Each brother had been sent to suffer, each in his own way, each at the hands of a different god, as payment for that hubris. Dethan had been cast into the eight hells by Weysa, the goddess of conflict and war. Garreth had been chained to that very same mountain, within sight of the fountain that had been the cause of his curse, doomed to freeze time and again thanks to the bitter ironic nature of the goddess Hella. Then the god Grimu had taken Jaykun and chained him to a star, dooming him to burn endlessly again and again. None of the brothers had been given quarter, none a reprieve…until Weysa had fetched Dethan out of hell and set him on a path that had resulted in all three of his brothers being released from their curses. But while his brothers were now completely free of their curses, Maxum enjoyed no such reprieve. In order to be freed from his curse the god who had given it to him must lift it. But the god in question was Sabo, the god of pain and suffering, who thrived on the agony of others. It was safe to say he would never have cause to free Maxum from his curse.

And so he had lived through four winters now with his “reprieve” hours, each day living free of the curse until dusk settled over him and the ground opened to swallow him whole all over again. He didn't know which was worse. To be trapped with no reprieve from the crushing soil or to be given a taste of freedom and release only to have it snatched away each night by a devouring maw of dark, suffocating loam.

After a few minutes Maxum righted himself, feeling the pain of every bone that had been broken by the pressure of all that rock and soil pressing in on him. Cracked ribs, snapped thighbones, crushed arms. The agony of it was brutal.

But he was immortal and so he would heal from all of those injuries until he was as good as new…or as close to it as he could be. His head hurt, his ears ringing from what was no doubt a cracked skull. He couldn't get up and walk yet, so he dragged himself across the ground toward his campsite not too far away. Once there he rolled onto his bedroll and lay panting for breath, each one of those breaths torture thanks to his damaged ribs.

It had to stop. One way or another, he would put an end to this. The easiest solution required a god-made weapon removing Maxum's head from his shoulders. But then he would very likely be sent to the eight hells upon his death and that would only mean trading one torment for another—one far more permanent.

The other solution was much more impossible on the surface of it. Convince Sabo to free him from his curse. The idea of the god doing that was laughable. His brothers might have been lucky enough to get their curses lifted by their various gods, but there was no hope for it in Maxum's case. They all knew it. It was apparent in every pitying look his brothers had cast him. That was one of the reasons why he had left their company. That and the fact that his brothers had proven to be enviably happy and in love with their wives and it had just about made him sick to watch them.

But he didn't begrudge them their happiness or their curse-free existences. He was glad they were free. Glad they had found happiness. He was an uncle several times over now as his brothers wallowed in their joy and made babies with their wives. The most recent had been Jaykun and Jileana's son, newborn when last he had seen them. He would be two now and no doubt getting into all manner of trouble.

Part of him had wanted to stay, to enjoy what time with his family he could muster. But just as adamant was his need to do something about his situation. The plan had come to him shortly after Jaykun's son had been born. Sabo would never willingly release him from this curse, so that left him only one option.

Maxum had to kill the god.

He didn't even know if such a thing was possible, but he saw no alternative. Sabo's death was the only way he could end his own suffering. He had heard tales…tales of magical items that could be very powerful, possibly powerful enough to kill a god.

So he had left his brothers to go on a quest. Several quests really. He wasn't going to face a god with nothing but a single talisman that may or may not do the trick. He was going to hedge his bets and gather as many such talismans as he could. He was going to face down Sabo and he was going to do it fully prepared with anything and everything he could think of. Including, perhaps, the help of some of the gods.

For the gods were at war. There were two factions, each with six gods. Well, seven to five if you take into consideration that Kitari, the queen of the gods, was being held captive by Xaxis's faction, Xaxis being the god of the eight hells. His faction also included Grimu the god of the eight heavens; Diathus the goddess of the lands and oceans; Jikaro the god of anger and deception; and, lo and behold, Sabo, the god of pain and suffering.

The faction that warred against Xaxis's faction was Weysa's, the goddess of conflict. On her side was Hella, the goddess of fate and fortune, her husband, Mordu, the god of hope, love, and dreams. Meru, the goddess of hearth, home, and harvest, Framun, the god of peace and tranquility, and Lothas, the god of day and night.

With the help of Weysa's faction and his gathered talismans he had high hopes that it would indeed be possible to kill a god.

Now all he had to do was gather his talismans.

And win over an entire faction of gods.

Impossible?

Well, that remained to be seen.