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CROWMON SLID A SIDELONG look at the human wizard who had been tasked with watching him as he sat on his throne. The wizard had to keep his distance from the platform where his god was sitting, or the death magic would begin to seep into him. He was several hundred yards away, but he was still within his eyesight.
It was insulting that his worshippers didn’t think he knew he was being watched. He wasn’t a lowly mortal like they were. He had enhanced senses and he could spot them no matter how hard they tried to blend into the trees. Besides, his two original pet crows were watching the wizard and the buildings where his congregation were sleeping the day away.
The humans had the hardest time staying alert for an entire day. Even now, the wizard was beginning to nod off. He was leaning against a withered, blackened tree and his head kept sinking down to his chest. “Sit down,” Crowmon whispered, willing the man to obey him. After another fifteen minutes or so, the wizard sank to the ground. In another ten minutes, he’d drifted off to sleep. “Finally!” the deity said with an eye roll.
Now free to move, he stood up and hurried away from his shrine. He took a path through the woods to a clearing. His minions remained behind to keep watch as Crowmon transformed into his bird form. He’d gained a lot of strength since the last time he’d tried to break free from his territory. Maybe this time, he would succeed.
Flapping his wings, Crowmon soared into the air. Once again, he found he couldn’t rise higher than the treetops. Even when he strained with all of his might, he couldn’t get any higher. He landed on the ground before he could exhaust himself and let out a caw of despair. Sending out his senses, he picked up on something he hadn’t sensed before. He’d known his parishioners had erected a ward around his territory, but he picked up on another barrier this time.
Crowmon probed the barrier with his mind and sensed it had been created by Vella. The shifter-witch must have had a vision of him being able to change into his full avian form. She’d done her best to constrain him so he couldn’t stray away from his shrine. The werecrow had tried to turn him into her puppet and limit his powers to prevent him from growing too strong. She’d fallen for the elf, who was now her equal and felt only scorn and derision for her god-king.
Rage at the depths of the High Priestess’ betrayal had Crowmon reaching for his death magic. It swelled inside him and he sent it out to the far reaches of his territory. He sensed every living creature within his woods and knew he could snuff their lives out with a mere thought if he wanted to. His mind teetered on the edge of madness as he contemplated wiping out his entire congregation.
One of his pets cawed loudly inside his mind, snapping him out of his momentary murderous plan. Like it or not, he needed his worshippers to give him strength. He pulled his death magic back in, then the crow sent him an image. It had spied Vella and Brycen waking up while peeking at them through a window. They must have felt his magic and they were pulling their clothes on.
Crowmon came close to panicking, but managed to pull himself together. He took to the air again and flew as fast as he could back to his shrine. Changing into his human form in midair, he landed on the platform, spun around and sat down on his throne. Moments later, he saw Vella and Brycen from the corner of his eye. The elf kicked the slumbering human wizard in the side to wake him up, then berated him for falling asleep while he was on duty.
Vella ignored the pair and remained focused on Crowmon. She didn’t notice the crows who were watching her through pale green eyes. “Enough!” she said when her lover continued to castigate the wizard. “Go to bed if you’re incapable of remaining awake,” she ordered the human. “Send someone else to take over from you.”
“Yes, High Priestess,” the wizard mumbled and slunk away in shame.
Brycen waited for the human to be out of earshot before he spoke. “You see?” he said, sweeping his hand at the distant deity. “Crowmon sits on his throne as always. It must have been a noise that woke us up.”
“What noise?” Vella asked without taking her eyes away from the god-king. “There are few animals left in the woods. Most have fled from the rot that continues to spread from the shrine.”
“It was probably a crow,” the elf insisted. “They’re still everywhere. There are plenty of rats, too.”
“It wasn’t a crow or a rat,” the High Priestess said with a scowl. “It was magic that woke me up.”
“You think Crowmon tried to use his death magic?” Brycen asked. Crowmon hid his smirk with his hand at the tremor of trepidation in the High Priest’s voice.
“If he did, it failed to harm us,” Vella replied. “I’ve made sure he won’t gain too much power from the souls that are drawn into him so he can remain manageable.”
“So you’ve said,” the elf agreed, but he didn’t sound convinced. “He seems to be getting stronger since he started slaying the sacrifices himself.” It was his turn to scowl at the memory of his beloved being defiled by their god-king on an almost nightly basis.
“Crowmon will never become a god of death,” the shifter-witch said soothingly. “He will only ever be a carrion god with limited power. His mind is still befuddled by the enchantment I laid on him before he was stripped of his olde-worlde magic. He doesn’t even know it’s there.” The scorn and contempt in her tone made Crowmon clench his hands into fists. He turned his head away so they couldn’t see his rage.
“You’re certain you still hold his reins, my love?” Brycen asked. “If so, why do you allow him to use your body?”
“It’s necessary,” Vella said, but her shoulders slumped. “He has to think I still love him. If he becomes aware that it makes me sick to my stomach every time he touches me, he could turn on us.”
She shivered and Brycen put his arm around her waist. “I wish we didn’t need him,” he said and kissed her on the cheek. “I wish I could slay him so you never have to endure his touch again.”
The elf’s tender tone was enough to make Crowmon’s gorge rise. He screwed his face up in hatred for the pair. It was a struggle to keep his death magic in check so he didn’t unleash it on the duo.
“Crowmon will never fulfil the vision I had of him becoming a god of death,” the High Priestess repeated. “He will never even be able to leave his shrine unless I allow him to.”
A fairy maiden arrived to replace the wizard who had been dismissed. The High Priest and Priestess returned to their home, unaware that their god-king had heard every treasonous word they’d spoken.
“Vella will rue the day she attempted to rule a god,” Crowmon whispered. She would soon find out just how big a mistake she’d made when he was finally ready to enact his plans for citywide domination.
