Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 26
Tyche
It didn’t take a genius to see that Shey and Adrian needed to say things to each other without Tyche being able to hear them. State secrets. Covert plans.
Okay, so it was likely that Adrian was itching to whisper about the crazy god who claimed he could manipulate luck. Not that Tyche could blame Adrian. If the dragon at his side hadn’t mentioned that Tyche was a god, he wouldn’t have believed a single word Tyche had said. As it was, Tyche was willing to bet that Adrian believed only every fifth word Tyche spoke. And for once, everything had been the truth.
Mostly.
He might have left out the part where manipulating a person’s luck was exhausting or that pulling bits of luck out of the air was troublesome because it created a luck vacuum in that area, which almost always resulted in bad things happening.
They didn’t need all the messy details. The important thing was that they understood he couldn’t churn out endless amounts of good luck for them to use to take over the world. That was pure nonsense.
It didn’t take him long to walk away from their group and follow the sound of rushing water tumbling across worn rocks to find a clear, cold stream wandering along a shallow bed. He moved carefully, making sure that he wasn’t about to startle some wild animal that had stopped by for a drink. That would be his luck entirely.
Escape after months of imprisonment, meet a dragon, and get his face torn off by a mountain lion.
That was the other thing he hadn’t stressed. Just because he was the God of Luck didn’t mean that he had good luck. Fuck, Tyche would be the first to admit that his luck was rather abysmal.
He pushed through the tall grass and stepped onto the rocks at the water’s edge. It didn’t look as if the stream was more than two or three feet deep, but as he stuck his hands into it, he discovered it was icy cold. He yelped and jerked his hands out of the water. Did he want to wash off that badly? Not really. It was more to give Adrian, Haru, and Shey some time to talk without him there.
Yet, since he was there, he might as well try to stink a little less than an old-fashioned butcher shop. He clenched his teeth and scrubbed his hands together in the cold water. He picked the blood out from under his short fingernails, trying not to think about what he’d done to get it worked so far under there. Afterward, he splashed water onto his face and shoved back his wet hair, slicking it from his face while cold droplets ran down his neck.
This wasn’t so bad. He’d roughed it in the wild for plenty of years with relative ease. If he had to, he could do it again. At least until this nonsense with Ruben and Damardor blew over. What was a few decades to a god? As long as someone wasn’t stabbing him or cutting his head off, he couldn’t die of sickness or old age. Time marched on forever for him, as far as he knew.
However, thoughts of living alone out in the woods, hidden away from all human contact, felt too similar to the prison he’d just escaped. He might not have friends, but he had enjoyed his regular interactions with humans. They were funny, and he felt a secret joy at watching their reactions to his fortune-telling efforts. He’d made a fun show of reading tea leaves or tossing tiles he’d carved from soft rocks or even old bones, though he didn’t tell anyone about that part.
And maybe he wasn’t ready to say good-bye to Shey. The man had been his constant companion for weeks. He should have been annoyed with Shey’s entire existence by now, but he wasn’t. If anything, being able to see his face while they talked, to take in his full reactions had become an addictive thing. It wasn’t enough to hear him laugh. He had to see the corners of his eyes crinkle up and the way his head cocked to the side as he listened to Tyche. The man gave his full attention, as if whatever stupid nonsense Tyche was spouting was the most important thing in all the world.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Trouble clung to Shey like a second skin. It followed him as if it were his shadow. Sure, Shey had a good amount of good luck to act as a buffer, but that didn’t extend to those around him. And no matter how good a person’s luck was, it always turned bad eventually.
Common sense said he should run away from Shey.
But…
There was a rustle in the grass behind him, and Tyche turned to find that the dragon had approached.