But she wasn’t alive. I wasn’t her, and it was time for him to accept that.
“Come inside and rest,” Laima said. “It won’t be long before Perkons convenes another war council.”
I followed her inside, watching as her bare feet slid so softly across the wood floor she seemed to be gliding. I would never be able to match her natural ability at being a goddess.
“And,” she called over her shoulder as she entered the kitchen, “for what it’s worth, you don’t need to worry about Aaron.”
“Jayne!”
Beth’s voice distracted me, and I pivoted toward the spiral staircase revolving around the tree trunk as Beth clattered down the steps. She wrapped her arms around me, and I leaned into her embrace, sinking into the familiarity of my little sister even if we were in a foreign environment. She took my hand and guided me over to a bench covered with cushions, and had she aged? She no longer looked like a fourteen-year-old girl, but rather my equal, seventeen, perhaps even older, nineteen or twenty. Was this an effect of taking on more pieces of the goddess?
Laima returned to the living room, bringing a tray with a teapot. The beautiful floral porcelain cups reminded me so much of Aaron that hot tears burned my eyes.
“Drink,” she said, nodding at a cup. “It’s not mortal tea.”
Whatever that meant. I lifted the cup and sniffed it, inhaling aromas of chamomile and lavender. It sure smelled mortal. But then I took a sip, and the forceful relaxation that swept through my limbs almost made me drop the cup. I sighed and leaned my head back against the cushion, closing my eyes as a warm, sweet nothingness pervaded my mind. A sense of peace and calm melted away my worries.
“What is in this tea?” I asked, lifting the cup to my lips for another sip.
“Perspective,” Laima said, watching me.
Perspective. Was that a codeword for something?
“I want some,” Beth said, picking up another teacup and taking a sip.
“It will affect you differently,” Laima said to her.
I was still sitting there trying to figure out how perspective could make me feel so relaxed when my arm chimed. The chime echoed twice more around the room. I looked down at my wrist at the same time that my sisters looked at theirs.
“We’re being called,” Laima said, speaking for all of us. She put down her teacup. “Shall we?”
*~*
Once again, the majority of the pantheon convened in the meadow, filling up the empty spaces in Perkons’ court. But this time, it wasn’t a war council or a party. We were licking our wounds.
“Now that Jumis has joined up with Jods, we are at a distinct disadvantage,” Perkons said.
“How can we be at a disadvantage?” One of the lesser goddesses asked, speaking the question on my mind. “It’s still just the gods of the underworld against all of us.”
“Jumis will have his own followers,” Perkons said, eyeing her as if she were stupid. “And you must include Samantha in your head count. She is a particularly dangerous threat because of the abilities of the fates she’s absorbed. Jumis is a danger because he is one of us. He knows our strongholds, our securities. He can get here without having to use relics or the archway.”
I shot my own look at the goddess. She was one of the ones who had mocked me at the feast the night before. I’d seen the way she watched Jumis. Would she turn traitor next?
“We can’t sit back on our haunches now,” Ursins said. “We have to attack.”
“We should select more champions and let them fight this out,” Meness said. “Velns and Jods will select champions to fight us.”
“Yes. But this goes beyond choosing mortals to act as proxy for our whims,” Perkons said. “We must strike where it hurts. It is time to remove Jods’ source of power.”
Beside me, Laima stiffened. As if sensing her discomfort, Perkons’ gaze landed on her.
“It is time to undo the damage you caused by allowing the mortal woman Samantha to become Karta.”
I bit my tongue to keep from speaking in Laima’s defense. How was she supposed to know that Samantha would become power-hungry and try to destroy the pantheon?
I tilted my head, studying her. Or had she known? As a goddess of fate, there was a possibility she had. A good possibility. And she had still let it to happen.
Perkons was still talking, and I forced myself to focus on what was happening now.
“The woman must be destroyed. Jods is using her body as a vessel, as a conduit for power.”
“I thought her power was lost when we freed the souls?” I interrupted.
“The power she had taken from those souls, yes. But she continues to change men’s hearts to follow her and now holds pieces of the fates. Unless she dies, we cannot retrieve those pieces. They give her the ability to alter the course of a battle, change the outcome of a warrior’s actions. If she collects the pieces of Dekla and Karta and myself in their entirety, she can even manipulate the destinies of immortal beings.”
“But she doesn’t have a ragana,” I said, latching onto that thread of hope.
“Not yet. But also, Jods has staked himself to her mortal soul. If we destroy her, we destroy his power over the mortal realm. He may continue to assist Velns in this crusade if he so desires, but Velns will have to be Jods’ power source over the mortals.”
“I will do it,” Laima said, her tone steely. “I will destroy her.”
I shuddered. My feelings toward Samantha might be about as close to hatred as a person could come, but I wasn’t sure I had it in me to destroy her. That sounded so . . . final.
“Do not underestimate her,” Perkons warned. “She has the power of hundreds of mortal souls controlled by her will, dozens of pieces of the fates, and her connection to Jods. The dark matter has grown in her. She is no longer merely mortal. If she conquers you and takes your goddess powers, we are as good as lost.”
Laima waved his worries off with a dismissive gesture of her hand. “I am not concerned with her mortal body. I will take her soul. Jods may keep the shell.”
Yikes. Talk about payback.
“Do not hesitate. There is no room for mercy or weakness. If we do not destroy her, our chances of winning this war are slim. And if Velns wins—I need not remind you of what happened last time.”
The silence that descended over the group was somber and intense, all while I racked my brain to remember what happened last time. I sent Beth a questioning look, and she shrugged.
Laima broke the silence with a toss of her long blond hair.
“They will not win. I will formulate a plan to confront Samantha before the day’s through.”
Perkons nodded and then went on to discuss the logistics of the next battle, but my mind was still reeling with the understanding that Laima was going to kill Samantha. I leaned close to her and whispered, “Did Velns win the war last time?”
She whispered back, “Nearly. After he captured Saule, he destroyed more than two-thirds of earth’s population. It took decades for us to regain control. You know the time period. It’s known in your history as the Black Plague. Or the Black Death.”
Criminy. Velns had caused that? What other physical evidences were there of the war raging between the gods? How much of history that we took with a grain of salt should we be taking literally?
Perkons continued to talk about the upcoming battle and the effort it would take to keep Velns, Jods, and Jumis from gaining any more ground in the power struggle over the earth, but it was very clear that unless we removed their power source, they had an advantage.
And their power source was Samantha.
The council ended, and we moved away from the table in small groups. I kept pace with Laima and said to her, “I’m going with you to defeat Samantha.”
She shot me a look of surprise. “You don’t have to do that. Samantha is not your problem.”
“Sounds to me like she’s everyone’s problem.”
“She won’t be difficult to destroy. I creat
ed her.”
“And you underestimated her then, too. You created the Samantha that was Karta. What she is now was created by the underworld.” As long as Laima did the dirty work, I could make sure she succeeded.
Laima arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re capable?”
How did she manage to make that question sound so insulting? I bristled under the implication even though I’d just been thinking how I didn’t have the stomach for it. “Of course I’m up for it. And what if you need help?”
The smile she gave me was just short of a sneer. “Oh, Jayne. What help do you think you could give me?”
I was rapidly losing my desire to aid her at all. “Are you so confident in your own abilities that you don’t want someone to come along with you? Or have you already looked into the future and know how this is going to end?”
I put just enough snark into my tone that she’d know I was mocking her. Her eyes narrowed.
“Come along, little Dekla. Let’s see what you’re made of.” She turned and continued across the meadow, and I trailed behind her, wondering if I had just made a huge mistake.
“I’ve killed before, you know. Demons. Even a human.” Though just the memory made me feel ill. I hadn’t meant to, and I’d tried to save him.
“This is different. It’s premeditated. And we know her.”
I internalized her words. “Should we ask Meredith—I mean, Ragana—to come along? Or maybe Beth?”
“No. We don’t want Samantha anywhere near Meredith. She could force her to do her bidding. As for Beth, we don’t need the whole triad there. Jods might have made Samantha his consort, but she’s little more than a champion for their cause. She’s just a girl.” Her words dripped with derision. “It’s time to put a stop to her.” The fire snapped in her eyes again, so visceral I expected flames to ignite around her face.
We said nothing more, and as we cleared the edge of the grass, Laima said, “Keep up.” She lifted an arm over her head, which transformed into the uplifted wing of the white swan as the other hand followed.
I was about to do the same and turn myself into the orange firebird when a male voice called out, “Wait, Dekla!”
I paused with my arm half raised and turned to see Ursins running to my side.
“I mean, Jayne,” he said, stopping beside me. “Because that’s who you are, isn’t it? You’re not her?”
I nodded, grateful they were starting to understand. “That’s right. I’m just Jayne.”
“And yet,” he said, the corner of his mouth twisting upward into a smile, “you are still chasing after Laima, ready to protect her, just like Dekla always did.”
I tilted my head, absorbing that information. “I didn’t know.”
“It must be instinct, then. Some part if you truly is Dekla, a goddess of fate.” He reached into his tunic and pulled out a long object wrapped in cloth and tied up with string. “Take this with you.”
I accepted it, surprised by the weight and strength as it fell into my hands. “What is this?”
“Surely you were listening, even if Laima wasn’t.” The grin he gave me could not have been more teasing if he had been my biological brother. “You’ll need one of the weapons forged in darkness to kill Samantha.”
I examined the weapon more carefully now, a lump in my throat, grateful for cloth bindings. “I believe Laima intends to accomplish the task with her bare hands.”
“There’s a lot Laima can do on her own. Take away Samantha’s free will, make her a shadow. But to separate her from Jods’ powers, she’ll have to kill Samantha. And to kill her, Laima must make her mortal first.” He nodded at the object in my hands. “The sword can accomplish both at once. Take it. Go. Catch Laima.”
I thrust the weapon inside my gown, tucking it against the ropes of my belt. I clapped my hands over my head and easily shifted into the phoenix. I focused my mind on following Laima’s trail, which I found by searching for the light of her soul.
But Ursins’ words replayed in my mind. “Take away her free will, make her a shadow.”
Destroy didn’t have to mean kill, did it? If we were able to reduce Samantha to nothing but a shell, she would be harmless to us, even if still connected to Jods. We might not need this weapon after all.
Buoyed by that thought, I quickened my speed, eager to catch Laima and share this idea with her.
I saw Laima’s light descend, and I joined her, my bare feet touching down into a narrow, cobblestone alleyway. The stench of old urine and dried vomit permeated the brick exterior of the buildings around us.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Haiti,” Laima answered. “This is where Jods has gone to recruit workers of voodoo and dark magic.”
“Will they be his champions?”
“No. They will be his generals. They crave power and the ability to manipulate life and death. He can offer that to them.”
I looked around the alleyway. “Is Samantha here?”
“She is near here. We must lure her this way. We cannot attack her with Jods nearby. He will protect her.”
“How do we lure her here without getting Jods here also?”
Laima give a grim smile. “I can create a shield that masks our powers from Jods, but it won’t last long. I just need long enough to get Samantha here without Jods noticing us.”
I didn’t ask how she knew to do that. She had several hundred years on me. “How will you get Samantha here? Can you summon her?”
Laima shook her head. “The fates can’t change the fates of each other, and she has too much fate power within her. Samantha is one of us. We only need to exercise our powers. She’ll sense it when we do. We both must do it. If she knows we are here, it will be too tempting an opportunity to pass up. She knows if she takes our powers, she can remove any god she desires from the pantheon.”
“But won’t she know it’s a trap?”
Laima lifted one shoulder. “She might. She won’t care. She thinks she can defeat us.”
She said this was such finality.
“How can you know?” I asked. “You barely know Samantha, and there’s nothing of Karta left in her.” Not that Karta had been sweet and gentle even when she’d been alive. She’d been exact in her justice and deliberate in her meeting, unswayed by mercy.
One might even have called her harsh or cruel.
“It is the way with all those infused with dark magic,” Laima said. “They don’t see their frailties as weaknesses. They think they can conquer everyone.”
Sounded like another goddess I knew.
“Summon a vision, Dekla.”
I closed my eyes and scanned the building in front of me for the orange energy.
A child slept on a blanket next to a radiator, and I pulled up a vision of his life. Poverty and starvation awaited him, but there was one moment, a brief incident, where if he simply said different words to the school headmaster, his entire future would change. I nudged the path forward, making it glow appealingly. I opened my eyes and looked at Laima.
“There. I’m done.”
“Me too,” she said softly.
How long would we have to wait? I opened my mouth to ask just that when a woman’s voice called from outside the alley.
“Well, well. Look who found themselves on the wrong side of the earth.”
Her voice was sarcastic and abrasive, and I couldn’t help the reaction of anger and fear that bristled through me. The few interactions I’d had with her had not been pleasant.
She didn’t look terrifying, standing in the open alley in a low-cut, dark maxi dress, thick hair held in place by a chopstick. She looked so normal it felt wrong to fight her.
But then her eyes met mine, and the pupils were so wide and black I couldn’t discern any of her irises. The look she gave me was haughty and full of contempt.
“I see you brought your little goddess. Your power is nothing next to mine, Jayne. Do you think you can prolong a life when I have decreed it should end?” She turned h
er gaze to the building beside me, and her eyes glowed red for a flash of a second.
In the same instant, a lemon scent rolled away from the sleeping child in the room, moments before he exhaled and did not inhale again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“No!” I cried, shocked and horrified. How had she done that? She’d taken the fate I offered him, the promise of life, and destroyed it without thought. Ugly emotions and words jumbled up in my head, and the only thing that managed to tumble out of my mouth was, “You monster!”
She chuckled, and my fingers curled into claws, wanting to scratch that smile from her face.
“You should’ve joined me when I offered you the chance,” Samantha said. “I’ll deal with you in a second.” Her gaze shot to Laima, and the black eyes glittered. “It is with great pleasure that I’ll remove you from the pantheon. It’s time for there to be only one goddess of fate.”
With that statement, Samantha threw back her head and stared at the sky. Her fingers spread wide and lightning shot out of them, scorching the ground.
Laima didn’t wait to see what she planned to do next. Instead she launched herself at Samantha, wrapping her hands around her neck and throttling her to the cobblestone road.
Samantha’s hands, still shooting lightning, grabbed Laima around the waist. Screaming ensued, followed by the stench of burning fabric, and I darted forward, panicking, not sure who was doing what.
Laima still had Samantha around the throat, and Samantha was shaking, her body convulsing as if in a seizure. But the blood-curling scream came from Laima’s mouth. She hunched her shoulders, craning her neck forward, the scream so piercing that windows broke around us and the walls began to shake. Deep, black cracks appeared on her skin, criss-crossing her exposed flesh.
I grabbed Laima’s arm, ready to pull her off Samantha, but a scorching heat seared my fingers, and I withdrew automatically, crying out.
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