“We’re not omniscient or all-powerful. We’re just immortal, created by Deivs to maintain order in the mortal realm and prevent chaos from ruling. Would you prefer we sent out pigeons?”
Pigeons would be messier, but they would be cool. “Cell phones are fine. Where’s mine?”
There was no mistaking the smile on Jumis’ lips as he reached behind the band of grass that made up his tunic. I forced my eyes away from his sculpted pecs. “We don’t use actual phones.”
“Don’t you ever wear a shirt?” I grumbled.
“My wardrobe doesn’t need updating.” He held a small ribbon out to me. “You can give your number to mortals, and they can contact you. But you can’t change it, so be careful who you give it to.”
“This is it?” It didn’t look like a phone. Long and slender, it was flimsy in my hands. I’d been hoping for my first smart phone. “How does it work?”
“May I?” Jumis held his hand out to mine, and I hesitated only a moment before dropping the device into his open palm.
He took my forearm in his other hand and straightened my arm, then wrapped the ribbon around my wrist. Even as I watched, the device flattened against my skin, becoming almost flush with my arm.
“My phone back home doesn’t do that,” I said. I scratched at the edge with my fingernail, catching the almost imperceptible bump. “Does it come off?”
“Of course.” Jumis flipped my hand over and ruffled the edge of the band. He prodded it up and started to unwrap the phone, but I slapped his hand away.
“That’s okay. Do I have to take it off to shower?”
“Why would you shower? You don’t have to anymore.”
Right. Along with using the toilet. My body was now a perfect vessel, and there was no waste.
I had to admit I liked that part.
“But there’s a shower here,” I said. I’d noticed it earlier.
He shrugged. “Shower if you feel like it. You need not remove the communicator.” A devilish glint entered his eyes. “But let me know if you need help.”
“Not likely,” I muttered, my face warming.
Jumis touched his wrist, and only now did I notice the flesh-colored ribbon wrapped around it.
“What did Perkons want?” I asked, remembering the chiming from earlier.
“He’s ready to perform the wedding ceremony.”
Jumis didn’t look at me as he said this. He’d gotten me as a wife, as he’d wanted, but he knew he didn’t have my heart. I sighed.
“Guess I’ll go change.”
“He also said he has removed Laima from prison and is holding her at court. She will be in attendance.”
He’d actually done it! “That’s great!” This I could focus on. I returned to my bedroom and picked up the feather-light, thickly layered gown.
“Would you like a lady in waiting?” Jumis called.
I fumbled with the many folds of the dress. “No, thanks. I think I can do this.”
I got stuck a few times before a memory fell into place and I recalled how to slide into the layers. I opened a drawer on the vanity and removed a braided rope, which I used to wrap around my unruly curls and hold them into place. Then I took a step back and examined my reflection.
I looked like a goddess. Even without makeup, my eyes sparkled and my cheeks were rosy. But my heart twisted. I had never meant to marry this man.
“I’m ready.” There were no shoes, and my tennies wouldn’t look right with this getup.
“Did you put on the wreath?” Jumis asked from the front room.
There was something else I needed to wear? “What wreath?” I glanced around.
“It’s in a drawer.”
I rummaged through the drawers until I found a circlet of flowers, small enough to sit on my head. My fingers caressed the dried rue, tiny blossoms that reminded me of baby’s breath. Dekla made this wreath. It was tradition for the bride to do so only weeks before her wedding.
I couldn’t think about that. I placed it on my head and left the room barefoot, pushing past Jumis without gauging his reaction.
I paused in the doorway of the house, not exactly sure where to go next. We walked from place to place, but it never seemed to take very long.
Jumis stopped behind me. His hand tugged on a piece of fabric on the back of my gown before releasing it. “Just picture clearly in your mind where you wish to go. That will create a pathway. Then you start walking. The forest will take you there.”
Well, that was my problem, then. I couldn’t picture clearly where I wanted to go. I tried to visualize in my mind Perkons’ court, but I had only been there once, and I kept pulling up all the images of Zeus’ court that I’d seen in cartoons and movies. I didn’t know what would happen if I walked into the wrong pantheon, so I hesitated.
“I can’t remember what it looks like.”
His hand came to rest on my elbow, and he gave it a squeeze. “That’s because you’re thinking with the mortal part of you. Think as Dekla. This is your home. You were born here, lived here for a thousand years before you left. Draw on that knowledge.”
I drew in a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I pictured again Perkons’ court. This time the meadow looked familiar, looking more like the home of wood elves than Mount Olympus, with waterfalls falling from terraced gardens and large, trembling flowers clinging to vibrant bushes. Oddly enough, longing flooded me. I opened my eyes, and a path appeared through the trees in front of me.
“You did it,” Jumis said.
I ignored how his praise warmed my chest and started down the path.
We arrived at the entrance to Perkons’ shady woodland court only minutes later. Perhaps a hundred beings were gathered beneath flickering lanterns bobbing from the rafters. The guests were all arraigned finely. Some looked human while others appeared to be elfish or kaukas and pukis, the Latvian version of sprites. But my eyes fell on the woman in the simple white tunic.
Laima.
Laima stood in the clearing, golden shackles around her wrist and long chains flowing down to the earth beside her. She turned her head when we arrived, and I saw the face of the beautiful woman who had come to me when I started having visions. I had thought she was a ghost, with her ethereal hair and white skin and the way she appeared from nowhere.
But for the first time, I saw a different expression on her face. Exhaustion. Weariness.
“Jayne,” she said. “You finally made it here.”
I tilted my head and looked at her, trying to interpret her tone of voice. Had she foreseen my presence?
Jumis had told me before that Laima had a vision of me being married to the god of death. My heart sank at the thought that our marriage had been foreordained.
“Jumis and Dekla, come forth,” Perkons boomed.
Jumis offered me his hand, and I took it.
“We will skip the official vows, as they have already been said,” Perkons said, electricity shooting from his head. “But we must anoint your bride.”
“Anoint me?” I started to say, but no sooner had I opened my mouth than a girl holding a bowl stepped forward. She smiled at me, dipped her finger into the bowl, and removed something glossy and golden. Questions rattled around in my brain, but I wasn’t given the chance to ask. She touched her finger to my lips, leaving the heavy substance there. My tongue darted out and tasted it. Honey.
“May your words to your husband always be sweet and your heart full of charity,” she said.
“Kiss her and make her yours, Jumis,” Perkons said.
Kiss me. My heart skipped a beat. Thus far we’d avoided any unnecessary touches. But Perkons was watching, and Jumis didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine, warm and confident. Then he drew back, his gaze eager with anticipation. My mouth buzzed, my lips stunned.
“You may remove the wreath,” Perkons said.
A bonfire appeared in front of the throne. Jumis placed both hands on either side of the wreath on my head, and then he tossed it into t
he fire.
“With the destruction of the wreath,” Perkons said, “you enter into a new phase of life. No longer an individual, but a unit. No longer concerned only with your wellbeing, but always seeking the welfare of your spouse first.”
The flames leapt and crackled, consuming in a matter of seconds the dried flowers of the wreath that had sat untouched for six hundred years. I stared at them, a hollowness growing in my stomach.
Another girl stepped forward and handed a white cloth to Jumis. His mouth curved upward in a smile, and he settled the cloth on top of my head.
“The crown of a married woman,” he said.
“We wish you happy long years,” Perkons said, and the wedding party took up the chant.
We had already married, but this felt far more official than the ceremony Trey had performed in the underworld. Jumis took my arm and spun me around, letting the crowd cheer and clap when they saw me. A flute somewhere started up a lively melody. The crowd moved toward a table overlaid with bread and fruit, but I suddenly remembered Laima.
“I’ll be back,” I said, pulling away from him.
Laima remained outside the court, standing in the clearing. The wedding guests had trickled out of the courtyard as well, spreading across the meadow. Perkons had risen from his throne and stood next to Laima. People moved out of my way as I neared them. He spotted me and gestured me forward.
“I have brought Laima here on your request.” He turned his eyes back to her. “While your idea to split Dekla’s and Karta’s souls into mortals caused the trouble we are in now, it did indeed provide us the element we needed to win that war. However, there should have been more policing on your part, more analysis of character before you allowed just any mortal to accept the responsibility of even a part of your sisters’ souls. That is where I see your failure, and because of that, the girl called Samantha got a taste of immortality and ran rampant with it.”
He paused, and Laima spoke up.
“You are correct on all accounts. I can assure you when this war is over, nothing like that will ever happen again.”
“I believe it will be your intention to prevent it, but I’m not sure you have the ability to do so. And if you do not, the pieces of your souls cannot remain with humans.”
She did not respond, though Perkons gave her a moment to. Lifting his chin, he said, “I need your assistance in this war. I need you to undo the harm caused by the rebel girl. Do you accept the quest?”
Laima’s eyes glittered. “With all my heart, even without you asking. Samantha—” she spat the name out like it tasted vile, “has defiled our mission and our purpose. She has twisted into her own image something sacred, and I will not stop until she pays recompense for her deeds.”
The venom in her words shivered down my spine, and I added a small prayer of gratitude that I hadn’t given into Samantha’s flattering offers when she invited me to join her side. I definitely didn’t want to get in Perkons’ or Laima’s bad graces.
“Then I set you free, but I counsel you not to leave this realm. We can protect you best here.” The golden chains around Laima’s wrists evaporated the moment he spoke the words. “You will be summoned to the war council at midnight.”
Someone else approached to speak to him, and a few people fluttered to Laima’s side to whisper words of encouragement and comfort. I remained where I was until she gave me her attention.
“Congratulations on your nuptials, Dekla,” she said.
I scowled at her. “Just call me Jayne. What’s going on? How can you be so calm about everything?”
She patted my hand. “Jayne, I am glad you’re here. All will be well.”
With that she walked past me and entered into a conversation with another wedding guest, leaving me wondering why I had fought so hard to get her freed. She wasn’t going to give me any more information in the immortal realm than she had in the mortal world.
CHAPTER THREE
I stood in the kitchen making myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, grateful Jumis had also stocked the cabinets with favorites for my mortal taste buds as well. I had just changed out of my wedding gown and back into my jeans and T-shirt. I wasn’t actually hungry, which kind of annoyed me. Didn’t this body ever need to eat?
Though there’d been plenty of food at the wedding ceremony, I hadn’t had any appetite. Now, nothing looked better than this sticky, gooey sandwich in front of me.
Maybe it was nervous energy. Jumis and I were alone, and my foot tapped out anxiously. What were we going to do now?
My wrist chimed, and I looked down to see a message appearing, right where the little embedded phone was.
Convene for a war council in the meadow.
It had chimed, so it had to be Perkons. I breathed a silent thank you that he and I had not been given any time alone. I didn’t want to see what changes he might expect from our relationship now.
Jumis glanced at his wrist, and I knew he’d gotten the same message. He looked over at me. “Would you consider changing your clothes before we go?”
I glanced down at my jeans, a feeling of disgust rising in my chest. Why was I in these again? Nasty, mortal clothes.
Ah, Dekla. I nodded to myself as I recognized her feelings. It helped when I could differentiate them from my own.
But I didn’t disagree with her. I found I didn’t want to wear them anymore, not when I had dozens of clean, beautiful dresses in my closet. And Jumis had left it to me to decide instead of commanding me, which I appreciated.
I made my way to my room to choose one of the flowing orange gowns as my new outfit. My fingers slid over the soft fabrics. The colors were resplendent, brilliant and shimmery like flames when I held them to the light, but softening to the hue of a sunset when I flattened the fabric over my arm.
The colors were bolder than any I’d worn before. I slipped one of the dresses off the hanger. The gown cascaded around my shoulders and over my body, draping off my form in all the right places. I swiveled slightly. I had never worn anything so exquisite, except maybe the wedding dress I’d just taken off. I thought of the frilly pink prom dress in my closet, the one I hadn’t worn, and suddenly it seemed silly and ridiculous next to this sophistication. I laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep within me, so girly and yet so powerful.
I stepped out of my room. Jumis stood waiting in the entry, and his eyes widened ever so imperceptibly when he saw me.
“It’s you,” he said.
“Jayne,” I reminded, shifting uncomfortably under his stare.
“You are a goddess.”
“I only have one fragment of the soul of a goddess.”
He extended his hand, and I hesitated only a moment before placing my own on his arm.
“You are still a goddess.”
He created the path for us when we stepped outside, and moments later we arrived in same meadow where Perkons held court. Tents had been erected directly opposite from his open courtyard, transforming the clearing into a military camp. A large stone slab sat in the middle of the glen, and various deities stood around it.
“We know what Velns’ plan is,” Perkons was saying as we joined them. “He’s tired of being in the underworld. He wants to banish us there like we did him.”
A memory flashed through my mind: the great battle of six hundred years ago. All of the mortals willing to sacrifice their lives to banish Velns to the underworld. He had gained enough power to cause a generation of terror and destruction before we vanquished him. And we did it by dividing the souls of the fates and changing the destiny of mankind across the globe.
Ironic that that decision had come full circle, leading us to the point where Samantha was able to use the parts of the souls to once again wage war. And once again, humankind would face destruction.
“How?” I asked. I searched my brain to see if I already knew the answer, but I drew a blank. “How do we defeat Velns?”
“He must be replaced.” Ursins slammed his fist down on the st
one slab.
“We must free Saule,” an older man said.
I looked at him, recognition chasing my thoughts. His eyes were the color of the night sky right before the stars are the brightest, a deep, deep blue. Age lined his face, as if he were older than the world itself. And with a start, the name came to me. Meness. The brother of Deivs, as old as time.
“We must free Saule,” a woman agreed. It was the same one I’d seen seated beside Perkons when I was introduced at court. “When Velns captured her, he created chaos. The order must be restored.”
Saule’s name clicked into place for me. “She’s Meness’ wife,” I breathed. “She’s the one who escorts the souls of the dead to the underworld.” I turned to Jumis. “But you—”
“It’s not my role,” he said. “I’ve been helping ever since Saule was captured. Christianity renamed me Saint Michael, and they think it has always been my responsibility. But it was Saule who made the nightly journey to the underworld, taking the sun with her and bringing him back when she returned.”
“Deivs has been distant since she was captured,” Meness said. “And the humans have cast the goddesses into a submissive role. Velns will be held responsible. Even if it means the loss of his immortality.”
“You would sentence him to death?” the woman asked.
“Great Mother,” Meness began.
Mother? I gave her a more critical study. She did not look much older than my own mom, definitely not old enough to be the mother of Meness. But she was Mara, the mother of Deivs and Meness, and thus the creator of all of us.
“I know it is hard for you to allow the punishment of one of your own,” Meness continued. “But if allowing Velns to die sets the world in its rightful order, it must be done. You would rather Saule remain imprisoned?”
Mara bowed her head, tendrils of hair falling around her neck. “If it must be done.”
“How can he be killed?” I whispered to Jumis, not wanting the others to overhear and realize my ignorance.
“If he becomes mortal, he can be killed,” Jumis answered, his eyes on the conversing deities.
Destined (Goddess of Fate Book 4) Page 2