Perhaps she thought I would not be able to hear this last part, but I did. My senses had heightened, hearing, seeing, feeling everything. Even the boy who peeked from behind a thick curtain so close to Mother. He’d been there all along, but I’d just sensed his presence, even as he stood as petrified as his parents.
“And that is why you and your family die today,” Mother finished whispering.
So, the man and his family didn’t die as a lesson to Godleader Helena’s daughter. Yet, they had served that purpose, too.
Mother turned as the rest of the man’s face petrified one painful measure at a time.
My gaze snapped away from the spot where the boy hid. My heart thudded as Mother walked in my direction. I felt it like horse hooves striking the ground and was sure Mother could hear its frantic galloping.
She tilted my chin and forced me to look at her. I felt her gaze reaching into my soul, trying to pry the secret that I so boldly clung to, but I would not tell her about the boy. I would defy her, if only in this small way.
“This,” Mother whispered, pointing at the man, “is what will happen to you if you choose to Descend. And be assured, there’s no corner of the world where you can hide. No matter what, I will find you, my dear, and will finally”—she pressed a finger to my nose and smiled, even as tears slid down my face—“touch you.”
After that, she pushed me out of the house and walked through the city as if nothing had happened. We rode back on the eagle, but I wasn’t afraid of the creature anymore.
I was numb, my heart petrified by my mother’s actions, the idea that I would never Descend firmly planted in my mind.
Chapter 7
Today is the Godmaker’s second and final appearance of the year. He wears the same robe and mask as yesterday and stands in the middle of the arena. Those who have chosen to Descend form a line before him and must face him and his power. They will take a step forward and, after answering one simple question, will lose their Godskill with one touch of his jewel-tipped staff.
Everyone is required to attend the Descension ceremony. No other proceeding is mandatory. Not Ascensions. Not the trials. Not assemblies of the Pantheon of Godleaders. Only this.
It’s meant to be a reminder of what we possess, and what can be taken from us.
I sit next to Romer and Delfos, high in the stands of the arena, the only place capable of housing all the residents of Joya d’Diosa. I search for Elina amongst the Rubí Godline where she belongs from now until forever.
The crowd sits quietly, looking forward in utmost respect.
“So many of them,” Romer whispers.
It’s more than half our seventeen-year-old Tier, and I can’t help but wonder if it makes Godmaster Neo happy to know they’ll live on as humans for the blink of an eye. Or if he wishes they could all stay here.
Many Potentials I was sure would fight in the trials stand in line now, waiting for their turn with the Godmaker.
“Could be Godleader Remon,” Romer says. It’s a game we play, trying to guess the Godmaker’s identity.
I judge for a moment, examining his height and bearing. I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Yeah, stupid guess.”
No one knows the identity of the Godmaker. It could be anyone. Someone we know. Someone in our Godline. It could even be Mother. I shiver. No, it’s not Mother. She wouldn’t let anyone Descend. She would turn them all into statues and display them as examples to those afraid to join the trials.
Whoever the Godmaker is, we are sure Godmaster Mador is creating an illusion of his likeness among the spectators. Otherwise we would be able to figure out who he is by process of elimination, but we’ve never discovered anyone missing at one of this ceremonies.
I spot Hali toward the middle of the line. Butterflies flutter all around her in an impressive array of color. She doesn’t look as brave as she did yesterday, as she seems to be using the staggering number of insects to protect herself.
Behind me, someone whispers, “I still can’t believe Ximon changed his mind!”
My ears perk up. One of Odella’s allies has chosen to Descend?! I quickly spot Ximon in line behind Talia. Seeing is believing. Delfos looks as confused as I feel.
“Why would he do that?” he asks, loud enough that someone shushes him.
“Because Odella got a new ally. That’s why!” the same whispering someone says from behind me.
I turn to see who’s the source of such discreditable information and discover Meristo d’Jade.
“Who? Who has joined her?” I ask.
“Me, of course,” he announces with a huge smile.
Romer turns slowly. “There is no way in Chaos.”
Meristo shrugs nonchalantly and returns his attention to the procession of Potentials. “Believe what you will, Romer. But your days are numbered.”
“Go lash yourself,” Romer swears at him.
Meristo chuckles, fully aware that he’s gotten under Romer’s skin.
“We have to talk,” Romer whispers in my ear.
Indeed we do. Odella and Meristo together? That makes for a completely different trial, a deadlier one.
“We should have seen this coming,” Romer says between clenched teeth.
Maybe, but Odella and Meristo have always hated each other. An alliance between them seemed less possible than Hali using her butterflies to win the trials. They are both very good fighters, but it is the combination of their Godskills that makes them particularly dangerous.
“I think we—” I begin.
“Quiet!” Godmaster Salino booms inside my mind.
Romer flinches which means he’s been reprimanded, too. We lower our heads and don’t say another word.
When I look up again, Hali has made it to the front of the line. She takes a tentative step in the direction of the Godmaker, who asks the question he’s asked every Potential thus far.
“Is it your freewill to Descend and forfeit your chance to earn a life among Joya d’Diosa’s Gods and Goddesses by fighting in the trials?” We hear the question perfectly as if the arena is nothing but a small plaza.
“It is,” Hali responds in a broken voice.
The Godmaster lifts his staff, the terrifying tool that has haunted my dreams for years. It is taller than him, made of beautiful, Godhoned wood, covered with intricate carved patterns representing the history of our citadel. We’ve all seen it up-close in the Pantheon hall where it’s prominently displayed—without its crowning jewel, of course—as another reminder of our likely destiny, and the fragility of the Godskills of all Gods and Goddesses.
At the bottom of the staff, within a sectioned ring that wraps around the circumference, carvings depict Chaos, the creator of all. The next ring shows how Chaos’s energy provided all the pieces that make up everything in our world, including its inhabitants. It goes on to depict how those infinitesimal pieces came together and, through millennia, became what we are now, the pinnacle of creation, the Gods and Goddesses who rule over this domain and every other.
The staff is topped with an Albasino cradle which holds a fist-sized sapphire in the shape of a hexagonal prism of the most radiant blue. The gem would be useless in anyone else’s hands but, now, it touches Hali’s forehead and channels the Godmaker’s frightening power.
As if made from dust, the butterflies around Hali dissolve and get carried away by a gentle breeze. One of her hands goes up in the air as if to call them back, but they drift away without regard. She brings her hand down and presses it to her mouth in a gesture of despair and loss.
The Godmaker invites her to walk behind him and join the others who have Descended before her. “Go and live a good life,” he says.
When every Potential has been touched by the Godmaker, he bows and asks, “Are there others amongst us who wish to Descend?”
The question isn’t only for us, Potentials, but for anyone who doesn’t wish to be a God or Goddess anymore, as if that were a possibility. I’d always thought offerin
g this one last chance was a waste of time.
Until now.
Somehow, I feel as if the question is directed at me, even though this is a standard part of the ceremony. My gaze darts to the rostrum where the Pantheon of Godleaders sit. I quickly spot Mother and find that she’s looking straight at me.
I take a deep breath and clasp my hands together over my lap.
The desire to live burns in my chest like Godfire. There is so much I haven’t done, so much I haven’t seen. I would like to leave Joya d’Diosa and visit every mountain, every river, but especially, every ocean.
If I Descend, I could do that. I could live a little longer and see the ocean and much more. I could one day fall in love and have a child.
My thoughts come to an abrupt stop.
Green eyes peer at me from behind a curtain. They belong to the boy who was orphaned by my mother, by a Goddess who thought nothing of using her skill against his entire family.
Humans are animals, here to serve us the way eagles and horses do. They may live in peace and as they please, but only if we allow it.
It’s the way of things. It always has been.
It turns out the question is useless, after all. No one else wishes to Descend. Not even me.
The Godmaker bows again and takes away those he touched. They file out of the arena to never be seen in Joya d’Diosa again.
Chapter 8
“This is bad,” Delfos says. “We have to switch our entire strategy! Odella was manageable with Ximon and Ynes on her side, but this is . . .” He doesn’t know how to describe it.
We are in our Tier’s hall, in one of the common areas, our heads leaning into a circle as we speak in hushed tones.
“It’s all right,” I say. “We simply need to rethink a few things. That’s all.”
“Easy for you to say. You want to die,” Delfos says, frustrated.
Our deal is that we help Romer win. In return, he will pardon Delfos, allowing him to earn a bigger bounty to take with him to his human life, ten times what those who Descend get. More than enough to tempt many of those with decent Godskills to participate in the trials and put on a show. Delfos can blind an opponent temporarily with a simple brush of his fingers, so he figures the risk is worth it. As for my bargain in this alliance, Romer has promised to give me a swift death, if it comes to that.
“Yes, I die, which gives you a chance to survive if this alliance succeeds,” I say.
Every Potential is allowed to pardon only one person, so Delfos gets to be Romer’s gift to humans.
“Sorry, sorry. I know,” Delfos puts both hands up. “This is just frustrating. The first clash is tomorrow!”
Romer frowns. “What do you think their agreement is? I don’t see Meristo negotiating for a pardon from Odella or vice versa.”
They’ve both always said that they’d rather die than become human scum, but I don’t see them as the dying kind either.
After thinking on it for a moment, I say, “Maybe they’re just planning to be the last two, then they’ll face each other.”
Romer nods. “I guess they’re pretty evenly matched. Meristo can’t use his vines against her. That would mean touching her and becoming enthralled by her power. So it would have to be decided in a sword fight.”
Neither of us say anything for a long time, probably thinking the same thing: Odella and Meristo don’t deserve to stay in Joya d’Diosa.
Romer breaks the silence. “So Odella, Ynes, and Meristo . . . let’s think about how to defeat them.”
“I still can’t believe Ximon chose to Descend,” Delfos says. “Even Aristo’s staying, and he’s always the first to be defeated in every training battle.”
“Delfos, please focus. It’s late, and we need to rest,” I say.
“Sorry.”
Scratching my head, I try to picture us in the arena against this new enemy. There would be no contest if we were facing them as we always have. With swords. But that won’t be the case anymore. Their Godskills will come to bear and, combined, could mean all of our deaths—not only mine. It seems unthinkable, but it is now possible.
“The two, together, can bring you down, Romer,” I say.
“If Meristo traps me, I could hack his vines,” Romer says, “though I suspect it would take a few blows. They seem strong. But if he grounds me for too long, I won’t be able to escape Odella’s touch.”
“She got her dirty on you she’d probably have you kill everyone, then yourself,” Delfos says. “That’s what I would do.”
Romer and I blink at him, surprised by this perverse idea.
“Lashing genius!” Romer says with a bit of sarcasm and a heavy dose of admiration. “I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.” Delfos cheeks get pinker than usual.
“Apparently, he’s been holding back on us, Bia.” Romer hooks a thumb in Delfos’s direction.
“Apparently,” I echo. “How about some ideas on how to keep Romer free from Meristo’s reaching vines?”
Delfos frowns, thinking. “I don’t know. Do you think they’ll go after Romer right away?”
“We have to assume they will. He’s the strongest of all,” I say.
“Lashing vines!” Delfos says. “He can spring them anywhere inside the arena,” he pauses, then has a small realization, “if the ground remains supple. But what if it were Albasino?! It’s possible. You never know what the stewards will throw at us.”
“Exactly! That’s why our plan needs to only consider things we can count on.”
Delfos grumbles.
“The vines can reach very high,” I say, frowning at Romer. “But I think you could stay out of reach. The problem with that is you would be unable to fight, which would disqualify you and would leave Delfos and I in a precarious situation.”
“Lash that!” Romer curses. “I won’t run from them!”
“I’m not suggesting you do that. You have to pardon Delfos, and you won’t be able to do that if you get disqualified or he gets killed first. I don’t know. I guess I’m just thinking out loud.”
“We have to kill Meristo,” Delfos says, “swarm him, that’s all there is to it.”
“I think you’re forgetting about Ynes,” I say. “She’d probably cast a concealing illusion around him, so we would have to take her out first.”
Her illusions are not as good as Godmaster Mador’s, but these two might still have trouble detecting them. They never learned well how to spot them.
“Or . . .” Romer leaves us in suspense.
“What?!” Delfos and I demand.
He leans forward. His tone starts out mellow, but grows excited with every word. “As soon as the first drum beats, we surprise them. I spring into the air, straight up, with Delfos in tow, then drop him right on top of Meristo. After all, Ynes’s illusions can’t pass a three-sixty inspection.”
True, Ynes can only cast her illusions in one direction.
Delfos’s gray eyes sparkle. “Yes! I’ll blind Meristo, then go for his throat.”
“Once blinded, his vines would never find us, and if Delfos cannot dispatch him,” he looks at me, “we go in and help.”
“That might work.” I nod.
Delfos’s mouth spreads into a huge smile. He nods in an exaggerated fashion. “I like this idea!”
The tricky part with Godskills like Odella and Delfos’s is getting close enough to touch your opponent. Romer’s idea takes care of that.
“But,” Delfos’s smile disappears. He turns to me. “Will you be alright while we’re in the air?”
“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself,” I say.
Romer puts a hand on my forearm. “Join us as quickly as you can. We must stay together. And don’t let Meristo entwine you.”
“I won’t.”
“He knows you don’t want to Descend,” Romer says.
“So? Everyone knows that.”
“He might decide to pardon you, just to spite you,” Romer puts in.
He’s ri
ght. Meristo is that twisted.
“Would that be so bad?” Delfos asks.
Delfos is always trying to convince me to go with him. “We’ll have an adventure together,” he tells me.
I love him for it, but that would only put him at risk. They think I choose to die out of pride, because I would loath a human life. Though that is true, it’s not the real reason. Only Elina knows what motivates me. I never told Romer and Delfos because Mother forbade me to share what she’d done. Elina d’Rubí knows only because it’s impossible to keep a secret from her. She got the truth out of me the very day of my illegal trip to Cima.
“So we have a plan.” Romer puts a hand forward.
I put mine on top of his, and Delfos places his on top of mine.
Then we recite in unison, “By the jewel, we live. By the jewel, we die.”
We are ready to clash.
Chapter 9
We have a plan, and it should sit well with me. I have enough reason to hate Odella and Meristo, and still, I find myself pacing in my small, bare room. My cot is in disarray, the covers tangled and drenched in sweat.
This new alliance shouldn’t really be a surprise. Odella and Meristo are worthy contenders with great battle sense and useful Godskills. They also had an alliance once, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief when—a few years back—it dissolved over some petty fight between the two. But we should have guessed they’d find their way to each other again.
“Nerves. It’s just nerves,” I tell myself, after splashing my face with water from the wash basin.
It’s natural to feel this way. The first clash is tomorrow, the momentous event for which I’ve trained my entire life. The rapid beating of my heart has nothing to do with Odella and Meristo’s renewed alliance.
Still, memories of my childhood resurface, and I’m useless at keeping them at bay. Same as the other night.
Skillbarren, the word echoes inside my mind, a ghost from the past.
Godmaker (Jeweled Goddess Book 1) Page 5