The Goddess Read Online Free PDF Page A

gods.
    Thrilled, she almost threw her arms around him. In time she remembered the figurine
     and promptly stepped back. She wouldn’t risk bumping it out of his grip.
    When they reached the spot of pooling light, both peered up. Natural light spilling
     on his handsome face, Darius laughed. She laughed, too. She could have danced. Could
     have cried.
    “It’s wide enough,” he said. “We can get out.” Then his expression faded. “Except…”
    “Except what ?”
    His gaze burned into hers. “I’ll lift you up. Then I’ll hand up the figurine. Put
     her aside somewhere safe, somewhere she can’t possibly fall. Find a vine or a strong
     branch and I’ll pull myself up.”
    Helene did a double take. He trusted her with the figurine? Then again, he had no
     choice.
    He set the figurine out of the way. When he returned, he locked his fingers and knelt.
    “Put your foot in the net of my hands. I’ll hoist you up.”
    She studied his thatched fingers, then the hole rimmed with overgrown grass, and a
     thousand butterflies released in her stomach. Suddenly it looked much higher than
     before.
    Reminding herself to breathe and have faith, she placed her sole in his hands.
    …
    Darius straightened and steadily raised Helene until her head poked out into the outside
     world.
    But she took too long to get a grip and lever herself out. She was like a cat clamoring
     to escape from the lip of a well, which made keeping a good hold of her near impossible.
     When her other foot balanced on his head, he called out.
    “Grasp onto something.”
    “Almost…” She jiggled. “Almost there.”
    Finally she found leverage. Her weight lifted off him and she heaved herself into
     that blessed sunshine. Now came the hard part.
    “Are you all right?” he shouted up.
    A silky curtain of hair fell toward him at the same time as her beaming face appeared
     over the opening. “Uh-huh.”
    His gaze slid to the figurine. Never in the history of his country had any hand other
     than a royal or chief aide touched her. But today was the day, it seemed, for traditions
     to be challenged. Collecting the figurine, he sent up a prayer then raised her high.
    “Can you reach?” he called.
    Helene dropped both arms down and wiggled her hands like a child begging for a toy.
     He remembered the bucket crashing to the ground and an image flashed through his mind—the
     figurine slipping through those buttery fingers, smashing into a thousand useless
     pieces—and his gut kicked so hard he almost groaned.
    “I have my leg wrapped around a vine,” she said. “I’m anchored. Lift her a little
     higher.”
    He rounded up on his toes, edging the figurine a couple of inches higher. Slender
     fingers wrapped around stone shoulders. Only when he was certain she had a good grip
     did he close his eyes, send up another prayer, and let go. When his eyes opened, both
     Helene and the goddess were gone.
    He blinked twice. Waited.
    “Helene?”
    He heard birds outside and the distant lulling wash of waves, but from Helene he heard
     not a chirp. Then the grass around the opening shifted and her face popped into view
     again.
    “I’ve got something rigged up.” She dropped a thick vine that uncoiled down into the
     cavity. “I’ll hang on here.”
    “The figurine?”
    “Lying beside a tree. She wants me to say she’s enjoying the sunshine.”
    His grin was wry. Enjoy it while it lasts . He’d be on tenterhooks until the goddess was truly safe, locked away again.
    “If this doesn’t work,” Helene said, “I’ll run and get that ladder from the stables.”
    But he was already climbing, his movements swift and sure. Soon he was crawling out,
     filling his lungs. Fresh air had never smelled so good. The world had never looked
     so bright.
    Crouched on his hands and knees, Darius laughed. On her knees beside him, Helene laughed
     too, so much that she toppled sideways. He half caught her and then they were rolling
     together on the ground.