The Lost Daughters

by Leigh Grossman

  Which is why he was perfect for my father, I thought uncharitably. But I kept the thought to myself.

  “You’re sure you won’t be imprisoned again?”

  “I have a lot less to worry about than you do. They cannot kill me. And I have a war I am looking forward to helping you win. Since I missed the end of the last one.”

  I tried to wrap my mind around eight hundred years of imprisonment, even if it had only felt like a few days to Juila. Everyone Juila knew would be dead. That’s not true, I corrected myself. Only the humans are dead. All of the gods who were Juila’s friends and relatives were still alive.

  Along with whoever imprisoned her.

  Juila noticed my worried look. “Focus on the job you need to do here. Do not worry about your father or about me. I will be fine. No god here can imprison me again without drawing the attention of our King and Queen. Not Kedessen nor anyone else. And there is no way the Court knows about what he has done. They are very scrupulous about treaties. Kedessen follows the letter but not the spirit, but to most gods the spirit is the more important thing.”

  Now it was my turn to be skeptical. That certainly didn’t match most of what I’d read. On the other hand, Juila was living proof that a lot of what I thought of as history was at the very least misleading. She could be right. In which case, she might be right about starting with someone other than Kedessen.

  Best to at least ask.

  “Juila,” I started. “Do you think there is anyone else who can undo this? Other than Kedessen, I mean?”

  Juila shook her head. “I do not think it can be undone. But maybe something can be layered on top of it to change the effects.”

  A smooth voice interrupted us. “Or, you could all be killed and the whole thing forgotten.”

  Eury had arrived.

  His eyes still glimmered gold, but his hair now swept down in a luxuriant golden mane, over a billowing scarlet cape. Eury carried a long blade with a swept golden guard, and flames licking at the steel. A pair of hulking ironbacks accompanied him, heavy stillswords in their hands.

  “You looked better as a wolf,” said Sperrin.

  “If you want my brother, defeat me first,” said Eury. He stepped toward Sperrin, waving the ironbacks at the rest of us.

  Sperrin held his blade at the ready. “She wants your brother,” Sperrin said, inclining his head toward me. “I don’t care if we talk to him or not. But I do want to see the look on your brother’s face when he sees me standing over your steaming corpse.”

  Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded like bravado, but Sperrin made the words sound sincere.

  It’s because he really means them, I knew. For now, at least, he’s given in to his love of killing. Under other circumstances that might have saddened me, given all that he had lost trying to break away from that love, but not while the ironbacks bore down on us.

  “Give me a blade,” said Juila. I passed one of my two knives to Juila and hefted the other. Not that I had much chance of penetrating the thick skin of an ironback. Guthre lifted her hands to eye level, the throatchatchers once again in her fists.

  Sperrin and Eury crossed blades. They circled each other, feinting. Their blades moved almost too quickly to see.

  “Not that way,” Juila said as she advanced on the first ironback, the knife looking impossibly small in her hand. “You’ll need to take his eyes.”

  She said the words quietly, but I saw Sperrin nod a slight acknowledgment.

  Eury took a step back. “Traitor,” he said, the words almost a sneer at Juila.

  Deliberately, Sperrin took a step forward. “Hold the ironbacks,” he said, not loudly. “Don’t try to kill them, just hold them. I’ll be right there.”

  Guthre made sure she had the attention of one of the ironbacks and started backpedaling. As it closed on her, she dropped the throatcatchers and scrambled up a tree. From there she tossed small branches and seed pods at the creature, as if taunting a bear and not a messenger of the gods. For its own part, the ironback roared up at her, dropping its blade and shaking the trunk of the tree in an attempt to dislodge Guthre from its upper branches.

  By contrast, Juila charged at the second ironback. A quick cut drew blood from behind the creature’s knee. Juila sprang back, circling behind it. The ironback’s injured knee buckled. It stumbled as it tried to pivot. Righting itself, the ironback lumbered after Juila, limping noticeably.

  That left me out of the fight. I tried to watch everything at once, my knife ready to throw if needed.

  Eury had knocked Sperrin to one knee. The demi-god moved lightning fast, raining blows that Sperrin’s blade barely stopped. As Sperrin tried to regain his feet, Eury laughed and moved in for the kill.

  “Not so easy here, is it, ‘Captain’? I am closer to the source of my power, and you are far from yours.”

  “It is a little harder,” Sperrin agreed.

  “Are you ready to die?” the demi-god asked.

  “No,” said Sperrin. He swept Eury’s leg from under him. Sperrin’s blade flashed as the demi-god toppled, slashing across his face.

  “My eyes!” Eury screamed.

  “The hard part was keeping you from disappearing if you realized you were beaten,” said Sperrin. “It wasn’t easy to let you think you were winning.”

  Eury sank to his knees. “My eyes!”

  “You can’t leave while you’re blinded, can you? I think I have to actually cut them out to kill you. I may just do it, too.”

  Sperrin strode over to where the first ironback was still trying to shake Guthre out of the tree. The creature fell before it could pick up its blade.

  I don’t think I had ever seen Sperrin look so radiant. The glowing Mouse King armor helped, but the joy he took in the efficient way he killed left me conflicted. I was proud of the way he had killed to save us all, but something about him scared me. And I could see just a hint of pain in his eyes at the pleasure he took from it.

  Sperrin killed the ironback Juila had half-crippled, then turned back to where Eury still crouched on hands and knees. The demi-god’s powers seemed to have vanished when Sperrin’s blade had ruined his eyes.

  “O brother, save me! I die!” Eury cried out.

  “I wish,” Sperrin muttered. Eury was badly injured, but still very much alive.

  “Why didn’t you kill him?” Juila asked.

  “I got tired of walking all over this silly forest looking for Kedessen. I figured hurting his brother would bring him along.”

  “It won’t make him any friendlier.”

  Sperrin shrugged. “He killed my Empress. We’re not here to make friends with him.”

  “Then why are you here?” a deep voice asked. A radiant form materialized behind Eury. Kedessen looked down on his half brother. “Be healed and begone, fool,” he said. Eury’s eyes regained their glow as he faded away.

  “He is my half-brother and my most loyal servant, but I think he was not contributing to this situation,” said Kedessen.

  “You mean by losing a bunch of swordfights to me?” Sperrin answered.

  “That,” said Kedessen, “will not go unremedied.”

  “Wait,” I shouted. “We came to talk.”

  “Talk all you like,” said Kedessen. “I will attend to you presently, after I avenge my brother’s momentary loss of vision.”

  The god stood a head taller than Sperrin, with a mane of golden hair like a lion. He had golden eyes like his brother, but almond shaped, their glow more subtle.

  “You can’t kill him,” Juila said to Sperrin. “You don’t want to fight him.”

  “He doesn’t have a choice, dear cousin,” said Kedessen. I wondered if they were really cousins or it was a courtesy title between gods. “As for you”—he turned his attention to Sperrin—“you will have the rare privilege of crossing blades with a god.”

  But he’s not carrying a blade, I thought, just as Kedessen reached up and plucked a fiery stillsword from thin air.

  He brough
t it down with incredible force. Sperrin’s blade held, but his wrist cracked audibly as the bone snapped. A quick downward slash across the stomach and Sperrin collapsed on his back. The Mouse King armor lay frayed and burned, pulled away from the wound. It hadn’t held back the god’s blade.

  “There,” said Kedessen. “I hope you feel privileged.”

  I threw my knife at the god’s face. Somehow a flick of his blade sent the knife flying in another direction.

  “Was that really necessary?” Juila asked. She stepped forward, as if to intercede between Kedessen and Sperrin’s fallen form. As soon as Kedessen took a step back, Guthre and I both rushed to Sperrin’s side. I began tending to the horrible wounds. Guthre picked up Sperrin’s sword.

  “I thought it was,” Kedessen answered. “and he and I both enjoyed it. Only a moment’s diversion perhaps, but most of us don’t have the patience to spend a dozen lifetimes in a cage like you do.”

  So he did know about her imprisonment. Did that mean he was responsible, or did all the gods know? It might make a difference, I thought. Not if he succeeded in killing us all now, though.

  “It was hardly my choice to be in the cage,” said Juila.

  “Of course it was. You made that choice the moment you decided to play the hero for the humans against their betters. And here you are, not half a day out of the cage and you are already doing it again. We are going to have to find you a better cage this time. Maybe they will let you keep one of your pet humans in it this time.”

  Discordantly, the line reminded me of my father’s last words. We’re not pets, I seethed. That was why we fought the Holy War in the first place.

  Juila didn’t seemed bothered. “You have had more dealings with humans than I have these last few years.”

  “Business dealings only.”

  “That is not the way I hear it,” said Juila. “The way I hear it, you killed thousands of humans rather than admit Senne wanted to be out of your life.”

  “Senne is the love of my life, the way that long-dead human was the love of yours. That was what made your punishment so exquisite. And that, cousin, is why Senne will return to me.”

  “Does she even know?” Juila asked. “If anyone saw her awake, they would know instantly that you broke the treaty.”

  “No one will see her awake,” he said, too quickly. “Not until the time is right. The treaty was not broken. As if you would know about a treaty agreed to when you were already locked away.”

  “Locked away like your Senne, you mean? I don’t know all the terms of the treaty, but I know that you made a bargain that you did not complete.”

  “Nonsense,” said Kedessen. “It is a mere technicality, caused by the human’s own failure. As soon as he reaches the agreed-on place, the human will have his woman back.”

  “The human is dead,” Juila said flatly.

  It took a moment for the implications of that to seep in. Apparently Kedessen had not known about my father’s death. It means he can’t fix his mistake.

  Kedessen regained his composure quickly. “A momentary setback,” he said. “Inconvenient, but not threatening.”

  “Only as long as the Court doesn’t know,” said Juila. “You are only safe as long as the Court doesn’t know.”

  “That is true enough,” he said. “But only two of them”—he gestured to me with my glowing armor, and Sperrin, whose armor had faded with the sword-strike—“can face the court, much less talk to it. They will be easily killed. You, cousin, will be a less easy problem to solve, but one that was solved before.”

  “Solve it, then,” she said, hefting Sperrin’s knife.

  “Oh I will, and gladly. I killed your sons, and I’ll kill you.” Steal Sperrin’s line, why don’t you, I thought. And then something hit me. Kedessen was lying. Was he even at that battle? He’s just taunting her.

  Kedessen sounded like he really believed his words, though. He’s furious, I thought. He really doesn’t want to face what he did. I wondered why not—he was a god, after all. What would the price of breaking the treaty actually be?

  Juila danced inside Kedessen’s guard, but he parried the attack. Just a probe, I thought. That’s something I wouldn’t have known a few weeks ago.

  Kedessen took a few lazy slashes at Juila, testing her defenses. “Do you miss your sons? I enjoyed killing them.”

  I had never known a god could out-and-out lie. My mother had told me they couldn’t and I had utterly believed it ever since. They’re gods. They’re supposed to be better than us, not just more powerful. But Kedessen felt tawdry somehow—more human than divine.

  Now Kedessen and Juila began to fight in earnest.

  Their motions looked almost ritualistic: a fight between two immortals with thousands of years of experience between them. I expected Kedessen to have a huge advantage, using a long blade against Juila’s slim knife. But she seemed to hold her own easily. Slim and catlike, she evaded Kedessen’s dancing blade. The whole thing looked like an elaborately choreographed dance.

  I turned back to Sperrin. I had stopped the blood loss at least, and his armor had shed some of the force of the god’s blade. But half his ribs had been caved in by the blow. One at least had penetrated his lung. His breath came raggedly, accompanied by bloody froth.

  For now he lived. But nobody survived such a blow without magical healing.

  I looked up at an odd movement in the corner of my eye.

  The sword-dance between the two gods went on in its beautiful precision. But Guthre had crept behind Kedessen on hands and knees. He pirouetted away from Juila’s knife, a half-stride away from her. Guthre chopped from her knees, swinging Sperrin’s sword two-handed. The blade caught Kedessen behind the ankle. The tendon split and he stumbled. In an instant Kedessen was on his back, Juila astride him. She held her knife firm at his throat.

  “You cheated!” He seemed genuinely indignant. You’re a god, I thought. Show some dignity. I knew Kedessen was more angry than crippled. By the time Sperrin’s lungs filled up with blood and drowned him, Kedessen’s tendon would already have knit itself.

  Guthre walked back toward Sperrin with her father’s sword in one hand and the god’s blade in the other. She spat over her shoulder when she heard Kedessen’s words.

  “It was an ill blow,” Juila said, her blade not wavering from Kedessen’s throat. “But you are an ill god. Cousin.”

  Around us the woods had begun to change.

  We have attracted attention, I thought. Is that good or bad?

  Gradually, the path around us widened into a forest grove. The trees grew taller and straighter. Vines draped over their branches, hung with long strings of flowers. Luxuriant moss enveloped the ground around us, broken here and there by tufts of small blue flowers. Mist filled the woods around the grove, and wisps crept into the clearing here and there.

  Last of all, the grove’s inhabitants appeared.

  Two tall chairs grew out of the ground like living trees. Vines draped them like the surrounding woods. A man and a woman sat in the chairs, beautiful beyond description. I saw gold and radiance and felt the Snake Slayer armor warm my chest and shoulders. Beyond a sense of shining hair and eyes that exuded warmth, I could not have described them, even though I looked right at them.

  In front of them, on a bier lined with flowers, lay my father’s body.

  At the edges of the clearing stood servants with animal heads, silverbacks in glittering livery, and gods dressed in festival finery.

  Now this feels godlike, I thought. Nothing at all tawdry here.

  Guthre and I—and Sperrin’s dying body, and Juila still astride Kedessen—all found ourselves at the heart of the clearing.

  The Court had finally taken notice of our presence.

  * * * *

  Kedessen recovered first. “Your majesties, I am being assaulted. Humans have trespassed here and freed one who was imprisoned. I beg your leave to destroy them.”

  A silvery laugh came from the Queen’s throne.


  “You were waiting for our leave to destroy them, Kedessen? Is that how you explain your present position?”

  Juila had pulled the knife back from Kedessen’s throat. She made no move to let him up until she caught some signal that I couldn’t see. Slowly, Juila stood up, then extended a hand to Kedessen to help him rise.

  “There will be no more fighting until the truth of the happenings here has been ascertained,” said the King, his voice deep and earthy. “I include in those happenings the dead human we found among your wolves, Kedessen.”

  “I will be happy to explain, of course,” Kedessen said.

  “I thought as much,” replied the Queen. “Your explanations are always entertaining, Kedessen, and the afternoon palls. We will be glad of some entertainment.”

  This is going to get bad in a hurry, I thought. Why are they listening to him?

  Then the answer came to me: Because you haven’t said anything. And it has to be you—your father is dead and Sperrin close to it. Only you are wearing proper attire.

  And if you don’t do it now, it will be too late.

  “I think the right of explanation is mine,” I said. I expected to stumble on the words, but they came out smoothly and crisply. “Under clause 12 of the Talisman of Truce, the party alleging a treaty violation has the right to present a case first. After the violation has been proven, the violater can give his defense.”

  My words seemed to surprise them.

  “You are alleging a violation of the Truce?” the King asked. “That is a serious charge.”

  “And who is she to bring it?” Kedessen shouted. “She isn’t an acknowledged messenger. What gives her the right to speak?”

  The King nodded. “That is a fair question, though out of turn. You are attired properly, but are you an appointed messenger? Do you meet the other qualifications?”

  “Because of Kedessen’s actions, the appointed messenger is dead,” I began. I saw the god about to interrupt and speeded up my words. “However, there is an exception to clause 3, which allows a person who has been entrusted with one of the five human copies of the Talisman of Truce to present a case in such times as a messenger may be unavailable.”