by Claire Luana
“This is Cygna, the night sparrow,” Rika said, and with a flurry of his wings, Cygna alit and landed on her shoulder, illuminating the side of her face in silver light. “It’s a constellation.”
“What is it going to do, fan the soul-eaters to death? Peck them?” Bahti set his giant hammer on the table with a heavy thunk.
“It’s more powerful than it looks,” Vikal said. “That little thing blew our ship into slivers.”
“Pardon me for not destroying the whole cave and announcing our presence to the leeches,” Rika said.
“It is remarkable,” Cayono said, his face childlike with awe. He held a hand out and the little constellation flitted over to him, landing on his outstretched index finger. He laughed in disbelief. “What wondrous magic!”
Rika’s fondness for Cayono increased dramatically.
“This…constellation…” Ajij said. “It can kill a soul-eater?”
“I believe so,” Rika said. “When I killed the other ones, I used the light of individual stars. But the constellations should be even more powerful. Concentrated.” She looked to Sarnak, who nodded.
“This is my theory…” Sarnak said. “The leeches are from the stars. Travelers on the star-paths that connect our world to others. The power and might of the forces of this world cannot touch them because they are different in nature. But Rika’s power draws on the power of other worlds—stars—planets. She is a traveler on the star-paths too, though it was her spirit that took the journey, not this current incarnation. Because their power is drawn from the same source, she can defeat them.”
Sarnak’s explanation rang true in her heart. Liliam had spoken of the star-paths, had explained that the heavens formed a doorway, a connection to another world. Could they connect to Kitina? Take her home?
“I believe Rika has sufficiently proven herself,” Vikal said, looking pointedly at Bahti.
Bahti grunted, which seemed to be as much of an agreement as they would get.
Rika released Cygna’s thread, gently ushering the little creature back towards the stars. I’ll be seeing you soon, she thought.
Vikal continued. “We’ll take a small party. Cayono has six other warriors who will come with us. One will stay with each of us. We need to travel quickly and quietly to make it through the jungle undetected. I think this is the best way.”
“So there will be thirteen. An unlucky number,” Ajij said.
“This is untrue. There will be twelve,” Sarnak said. “I am not to come.”
“What?” Vikal said. “What do you mean?”
“Someone needs to stay to guard the Nuans. If all of you brave foolish gods get yourself killed, the people will fall into chaos. They need a leader. This is my task.”
Vikal’s cheeks reddened. Hadn’t thought of that, had you? Rika thought with satisfaction. Not perfect after all.
“Very well,” Vikal nodded. “We leave at dusk.”
CHAPTER 24
KEMALA PAUSED BEFORE Rika as the gods filed out of the meeting room. “There is something I would like to show you, if you have time.” Kemala up close was even more frightening than Bahti, her eyes like pools of liquid black, her beauty almost stifling to behold.
Rika managed a nod.
“Follow me.”
Rika trailed Kemala through the tunnels back into the Gathering Hall. The jubilee of yesterday’s feast and merriment had dimmed—hungry, gaunt expressions followed the two goddess’s passage through the low light of the cavern.
Kemala led Rika into a tunnel tucked against the far wall—no more than a sliver of an opening between a cluster of glistening stalagmites. She wanted to ask where they were going, but her nervousness in Kemala’s presence stilled her tongue. What did the goddess want with her?
The tunnel ran downhill, twisting and turning until Rika was hopelessly lost. A sheen of sweat beaded on Rika’s brow. It was getting warm. Hot even. The smell of sulphur tickled her nose. The tunnel took a final turn and opened into a long, low-slung cavern arching gracefully over a steaming pool. “A hot spring?” Rika asked in surprise. “Why did you want to show me this?”
Kemala was already unwrapping the black sash around her waist. “It is a Nuan tradition to consecrate ourselves before battle with a ritual bath. And it affords us a good opportunity to talk. For me to know your heart, and you to know mine.”
Know her heart? Kemala had hardly glanced her way since Rika had woken up from her injuries, and now the woman wanted to talk? Rika bit her lip. She was nervous to be alone with this strange goddess, but the water looked inviting, and she did feel disgusting from living in a cave and sleeping on a hard bit of ground. Kemala was completely naked now, but for her jewel-encrusted necklace, her caramel body lithe and muscular as she slipped through the steam into the water. Kemala seemed to sense her hesitation, though if she sensed its cause, she tactfully ignored it. “These are healing waters. They will speed your recovery as well.”
Rika let out a little sigh and began to unwrap her sash. She stepped into the water and yelped, jumping back. “It’s scalding!” She eyed Kemala with amazement. The woman was now covered up to her chin, her dark hair floating on the surface.
“You adjust.”
Slowly, Rika inched into the water, taking her final step with a little gasp. It felt divine; the coiling warmth was almost enough to banish the insistent pangs of hunger. Rika untangled her hair from its knot and sighed. “Who else knows about this place?”
“A few of the women. They found it when exploring and told Bahti, as he is the god of the mountain. They have stayed away, believing it is his holy place.”
Rika couldn’t disguise a twist of her mouth. She had half a mind to get out right now, rather than float in Bahti’s holy place.
Kemala laughed, a throaty sound that echoed through the cavern. “He deserves that. He has been unkind to you since your arrival.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“I wanted, in part, to clear the air between us. To explain. Sarnak has told you of my gifts, yes?”
“He said you were the goddess of dark spaces. Human emotion.”
“Indeed. I can sense human emotion, and I can also manipulate them. These are not gifts I use lightly,” Kemala said quickly when she saw the look of disbelief on Rika’s face. “But the disharmony between you and my husband is strong. It is my duty to soothe what I can.”
“It’s not my fault,” Rika said. “He seems to object to the fact that I exist. I can’t help that.”
“Bahti still grieves over the death of his sister, Sarya.”
“Vikal’s wife.”
“Yes. They were twins. The night of their birth there was a star-fall unlike any the island had ever seen. There were those who said it heralded the arrival of two gods.”
“Sarya was a goddess, too?” Rika wrinkled her brow in confusion. The water was cutting through the aches in her muscles, leaving her almost drunk with relaxation.
“No. But they thought she was. Wanted her to be. They thought she was the goddess of bright light. And when Vikal and Sarya began to fall in love, it seemed confirmation of this fact.”
“Because the god of green things and the goddess of bright light—”
“Are destined for each other. According to the cosmic order, anyway. But Sarya’s powers never manifested. When it became clear that she was not divine, Bahti cautioned Vikal not to marry her, as he thought it could endanger her. Put her at odds with the fates.”
“What do you mean?”
“If Vikal was fated for another, and Sarya was married to Vikal, then the universe would find a way to…eliminate her.”
Rika blanched. Did they really think that was how their world worked? “That’s awful. But Sarnak said…he said you could choose…” Rika trailed off. He had told her that she could choose. Was that not the case? Was there some cosmic power out there that would force her to be with Vikal, even though he loved another?
“I agree with Sarnak. Bahti has always been
the most traditional among us. And the most pessimistic,” she added. “The man has many good qualities, but this tendency I have struggled to counteract.”
Rika didn’t think she had seen many of these supposed good qualities but kept the thought to herself. “So…when Sarya died and then I appeared, Bahti saw this as confirmation of his worst fears?”
“Essentially. In his heart, he does not blame you. He blames himself and he blames Vikal. It was they who allowed this to happen.”
Rika considered this. “Vikal…does he blame himself?”
“Vikal blames himself for the ills of the world. Including things he had no hand in, like the arrival of the soul-eaters. But yes, he sees Sarya’s death as his fault.”
“He still loves her,” Rika said.
Kemala nodded.
Though Rika had known the answer, it still stung to hear the confirmation. And that made her angrier than ever. She didn’t want to be with a man who didn’t want her. She didn’t want to be anyone’s second choice. She knew these things, yet there was still a part of her that was drawn to him. Cords of silver thread tethering them together. Their past. But not their future. It couldn’t be. She would be in control of her own life, not some etheric power. “Would you and Bahti have chosen each other if it wasn’t your destiny?” Rika knew it was a personal question, but Kemala was her only resource on this subject. Well, and Sarnak, who was infuriatingly opaque.
“Perhaps it made us consider each other when we might have passed each other by. But it did not dictate our choice or make us fall in love.”
“I’ll be honest—you seem nothing alike.”
Kemala smiled. “We are nothing alike, which is what makes us such great complements. He is the fire, and I am the cool breeze. A person wants both, needs both. Tamar is the perfect illustration of the balance of our opposite natures.”
“She is very special,” Rika agreed. “But I don’t like the idea that something as important as whom I’m meant to be with is dictated for me. “
“I found it to be a relief in the end. Confirmation that what I desired on the inside was in fact what was best for me.”
“I guess you lucked out. Your destined mate wasn’t in love with another woman.”
“It is not so simple. Vikal is waging a great war within himself. I wish I could help him, but only he can decide what path his heart shall tread.”
Rika wrinkled her forehead. “What is he deciding between?”
“Sarya’s ghost. And you.”
Her? Vikal had feelings for her? Rika met Kemala’s inscrutable gaze, trying to tamp down excitement that leaped within her. No, no, no, she told herself. “I thought you said you didn’t read people’s emotions without their permission.”
“It doesn’t take a goddess of human emotion to see that he has feelings for you. And you for him. Even if you would prefer to deny them.”
Rika lifted her hand from the water, watching the droplets plunk onto the surface. Kemala knew Vikal better than she did. Could she be speaking the truth? And if it was true, what did that mean for Rika? Did she want to be with Vikal if he wanted to be with her? True, he had fought with her and saved her from the soul-eaters not once, but twice. He had softened her with unexpected humor. He seemed an honorable ruler who had the unfailing devotion of his people, and he treated her with respect—like an equal. Then there was the fact that her body came alive at his simplest touch, that when she closed her eyes in the dark she saw the green of his eyes and the ripples of his muscular form and smelled the verdant scent of him. But…there were haunted memories that transformed him into the thrall—the man in black leather who had stabbed a moonburner through the heart. There was her father. And Yoshai. “I can’t think about Vikal right now,” Rika finally managed when she had thoroughly tied herself in knots. “Not until we defeat the soul-eaters. And my people are free.”
“It is natural to compartmentalize in times of strife. It is not an unwise approach. But it will not serve you forever. He will need to decide. As will you.”
It was easy for Kemala to say. She wasn’t torn between two worlds. Two destinies.
“Follow your truth, Rika. Everything you need is within you, if you only have the courage to look within.”
“When I look within…it’s a mess,” Rika finally admitted, her emotions breaking over her like a tide.
“That is what it is to be human,” Kemala said with a smile, softening the severity of her beauty. Perhaps Kemala wasn’t as scary as Rika had thought.
“I thought we were gods?” Rika asked. “Doesn’t that make things any easier?”
“Unfortunately, no. It only means you have a hundred lifetimes of baggage to work through.”
Rika let out a hollow laugh.
“But,” Kemala said, her dark eyes glittering, “it also means you have a divine family to help you through it.”
Rika was as loose and relaxed as a willow tree when she bid Kemala goodbye at the junction of the Gathering Hall and the tunnel to her room. The goddess’s unexpected kindness had given her much to think on. Perhaps suppressing her feelings weren’t the best way to handle them. She collapsed onto her bed as she reached her cave, flipping off her sandals. Her body was bone-tired, but her mind still raced. It had been good having someone to talk to. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed that over the last few days. Kemala’s comment swam to the surface of her mind. “Everything you need is within you.” Well, not everything. Though she sometimes felt she had several personalities, she couldn’t talk to herself. A thought flashed through her mind, and she sat up, the wound at her side throbbing slightly. She pressed a hand to it. It was healing remarkably well, considering how close she had come to death.
Rika willed open her third eye and took in the luminescence of tiny filaments connected to her. It was like every cell of her being was connected to a star. Was Liliam right? Could she ever truly know them all? For now, she put that thought aside. There was only one she wanted to get to know. Cygna.
She called to the night sparrow, recognizing the thread the color of smoky quartz that tethered them together. She willed it to come to her as silent and stealthy as a shadow. As the seconds ticked by, Rika began to wonder if she had done something wrong. But then, as she went to tug on his thread again, it soared into the room, alighting on the end of the bed. Its brilliance was muted and dark and dimmed even further as it folded its wings. It almost looked like a regular sparrow, but for the shimmering sparkles about it.
“Hello, Cygna.”
“Mistress.” It flourished its wings in a little bow. Rika couldn’t help but smile. It was no seishen, but it was her own personal bit of magic.
“Cygna, what do you know of the other constellations?”
“Much. We have been brethren for eons.”
“Perfect,” Rika said, lying down on the hard bed. “I want to know everything.”
CHAPTER 25
FINALLY, THEY WERE leaving. The tunnel out of the caverns was long and winding. But with every step—every breath, the weight of the mountain lifted from Rika’s shoulders. When she felt the first tickle of fresh air against her face, she could have wept for joy. Soon she would be free to gaze upon the sky, to behold her newfound celestial allies. Cygna had spoken to her long into the night, telling her of the constellations guarding Nua’s night sky. The little night sparrow rode on Rika’s shoulder, its muted shimmer matching the strange new light in Rika’s irises. It didn’t seem inclined to leave her to return to the sky. And she was just fine with that. It was a strange comfort—its soft feathers nestling against her neck. At her hip hung her father’s sword, heavy and solid. Another comfort.
The currents of fresh air joined with a wet mist that stuck to Rika’s face and neck. “What is that?” she asked.
“The entrance is hidden behind a waterfall,” Cayono explained, his bulk hunched over in the tunnel. “You were delirious when we brought you in. I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”
Soon, she was ma
king her way down a precarious, slippery path that was hardly deserving of the name. It was little more than a few abutments of rock sticking out of the mountainside to the left of the torrent of the waterfall.
Vikal navigated the path in front of her, offering his hand to help her across a particularly wide step. She took it begrudgingly, stepping across to find herself pressed next to him on the ledge. His features looked achingly beautiful silhouetted in the moonlight. His warmth and eucalyptus scent washed over her, quieting the voice in her mind that said she should pull her hand away, tear her eyes from his.
“Anytime,” Ajij said from behind them. She looked over her shoulder with a start. The muscular man was clinging to the side of the mountain like a goat, his toes balanced on a thin ledge of stone.
“Sorry,” Vikal said, and Rika slipped past him, letting Vikal help Ajij across. Her skin felt flushed even against the humid night air, and when Kemala looked at her with a knowing gaze, she blushed fiercely.
They picked their way down to the forest floor, where the flow from the waterfall turned the ash of the forest into slick mud. In the distance, the lush green jungle silhouetted the sky, and the clicking of bats and the cries of birds filled the air. Before them, in the direction of their destination, lay only the destruction of ruined trees and underbrush.
Rika’s breath caught as she opened her third eye and finally beheld the full wonder of what she was connected to. A million points of light tied to her with silver tethers. Constellations sat heavy in the sky, almost moving, writhing, waiting for her to wake them and bring them to life. “Look at them all, Cygna,” she breathed.
Next to her Bahti’s threads shone red, Ajij’s blue, and Kemala’s black, tying her to the individuals in their party. Vikal’s green threads strung towards the jungle in the distance, but many more were broken, severed and trailing, bearing witness to the part of the island that had been lost.