by Rin Chupeco
Haidee’s hand was against her mouth, her eyes large. “Good Mother. I’m sorry.”
“I got better, as much better as anyone could be after what happened. But I still haven’t told Odessa. That tells me I’m not completely where I want to be just yet.” I hated that my voice was trembling. “Physically, I made a full recovery. But I had nightmares. I had . . . panic attacks. I pursued Odessa a little more aggressively than I should have, like it could compensate for my shortcomings. I love her, but I was also desperate to feel alive again. I insisted that I was fine, that I needed nothing else. It took nearly getting Odessa killed for me to realize I needed treatment, and that I had to do it because no one else could help me if I wasn’t willing.”
“What was the treatment?” Haidee asked softly.
“Talking about it. Trying to process the trauma. That’s the most important part. It sounds simple, which was why I’d scoffed at first. But it’s working.”
She said nothing for a while, and neither did I. She looked up at the sky, as if noticing something within the stars for the first time.
“I should have died then,” I said.
She swung her head to look back at me, outraged on my behalf.
“No. It’s not what you think I mean. Just that as hopeless as the choices they presented to me seemed, I realize that there was one more I could have made, though I didn’t think of it then. One those creatures wouldn’t have wanted me to make. If I’d chosen to die then, it would have taken them longer to lure Odessa to the Abyss. Or maybe they never would have been able to. Maybe it would have taken more generations after her. Maybe they would have spared either Merritt or Nuala, or both, in my place. They presented me with choices I could not have lived with. Maybe the right choice was to make one that they wouldn’t have wanted. Everything always seems clearer in hindsight.”
“I am sorry you had to go through all that. But it’s not the same.”
“I know. All I’m saying is that I know what it feels like, to carry that kind of burden. And that although you may feel like you are alone, I want you to remember that you’re not, and that we don’t want you to go through this alone.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know if I want to . . . do anything.” But she looked at me, and there was a softening in her gaze, a relaxing of the hard lines that had crept across her face in those hours after learning Arjun was gone.
“Thank you,” she said, and that was a start.
A hooded figure waited for us by the boundaries of camp when we returned, and I stiffened, prepared for the worse. But when it reached up and tugged off its hood, it revealed a tumble of long, colorshifting hair. Haidee made a startled sound.
“I’m listening now,” Latona said.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Odessa at the Crossroads
NIGHT HAD RETURNED TO THE desert.
As the light faded, a contingent led by Piotr of the Rockhopper clan, the one who had previously accused us of selfishness, approached Haidee. “We leave when the light returns,” he said. “I care nothing about our leaders’ promises. You will lead us to annihilation. You allow Latona, that accursed bitch, into our territory. She, who has hunted us for as long as we can remember. We cannot forgive this.”
“You won’t survive out there on your own,” Lan said.
“Perhaps, but at least we can choose our own way to die. If the goddess cannot save even her own consort, then what chance have we?”
Haidee said nothing. She watched them leave before she, too, stood and walked away.
It took everything I had not to run after her. My sister’s anger had not yet run its course, and I knew she would not appreciate my presence just yet.
Unsurprisingly, Noelle took charge, supervising the Mudforgers’ and Stonebreakers’ efforts to erect more sand-tents. “The temperature will drop drastically, without warning,” she informed Lars when the latter volunteered to do without that luxury. “Winds aren’t uncommon out here, and at night they’ll be freezing. None of you are used to the colder weather, and you’ll be chilled before long. I’ll distribute blankets for those who need them, and I want everyone slated for patrol to carry another while on duty.”
“There are several back in the rigs,” Lord Vanya said. “I’ll give them to Mother Salla to dole out.”
“Keep one for yourself,” Noelle advised.
“I’ll live.”
“He survived, you know,” said Lisette, who was watching him closely. “Latona confirmed it when she arrived. She said he was at the Citadel, recuperating. Doesn’t mean he’s not a coward who doesn’t deserve your loyalty, but I thought you ought to know.”
The boy’s face crumpled. “I shot at him.”
“And I’m very sorry you missed.”
“I didn’t. I hit him in the leg.”
“If it doesn’t kill him, you missed.” She paused. “I’m glad he’s still breathing, if only for your sake. But after everything he’s done, you shouldn’t feel like you owe him anything.”
“He’s my father. That’s not something you can throw away so easily.”
“He betrayed his own liege. Why is that someone you would ever defend?”
“Because he’s still my father. Just because you discard people once they’ve outlived their usefulness doesn’t mean I do the same.”
Lisette blinked. “I’ve lost friends, too. This isn’t a paradise. I’m just a realist about it.”
“A realist? How much do you know of what’s real, when you push everyone away?” Vanya paused and looked down. “No. You’re right. That was uncalled for. My apologies. Noelle, tell me where to bring the blankets. I’ll get them now.”
“Have you ever had honey?” Noelle asked Lisette, who was still staring hard at Vanya as he walked away.
“What’s that?”
“A rather sweet nectar; my mother gave me a taste of it once as a child, and I’ve never quite forgotten it. A rather funny animal called a ‘bee’ made it, and humans collected it for various condiments and medicines. There was a popular saying about it: ‘to attract more bees, you must do so with honey. With sweetness.’”
The girl scowled. “And what would I possibly want with more bees?”
“To make even more honey, I’m told.”
Lisette glared at Noelle, and stalked off.
“You have a way with words, Lady Noelle,” I sighed.
“I’ve had to deal with squabbling children a time or two in the past.” Noelle paused. “How is Lady Haidee?”
I looked down at my hands. I didn’t know how to approach my twin now, in the aftermath of Arjun’s death. “She blames me. As she should.” If I’d only had more control. If only I hadn’t lost my composure when Lan had been hurt. . . .
“How long will it take for you to go to her, you think?” Noelle asked carefully. “A day? A week? Eighteen years, perhaps?”
I stared at her, and she shrugged. “It’s the same with Latona and Asteria. It was the same with Inanna and her twin. As far as Aeon is concerned, it’s a tale as old as time. I do not wish to see history repeating itself, Your Holiness. I think Aeon’s seen enough goddesses sacrificed.”
I didn’t want that, either. But things, I felt, were already changing. Latona was here, and tensions in camp had risen, especially since word was already spreading about Piotr and his men leaving. But the older goddesses hadn’t tried to kill each other yet, and I couldn’t help but hope. “You are very wise, Noelle,” I said gravely.
“A foolish steward doesn’t last long in their job, Your Holiness. If you will excuse me.”
Mother and Latona were still in talks with the clan leaders, the grudge between them temporarily set aside. They had no doubt been told of what Haidee and I intended for the morrow.
It was a simple enough plan: Open the portal leading down into the Cruel Kingdom, and face Ereshkigal once and for all. If four goddesses weren’t enough to defeat the demoness, then our last resort was to complete the ritual.
&nbs
p; It wasn’t the best strategy. I didn’t want to fail. I didn’t want to complete the ritual. But as Lan had already pointed out, the chances of all of us returning from that fight were slim.
And if Lan wasn’t coming back, then neither was I, because I was going to take every galla down with me.
It wasn’t the best strategy, but it was the only valid one we had. The question was whether the nomads would oppose it because of the risks on their end, and whether our mothers would oppose it because of the danger Haidee and I would be putting ourselves in.
Haidee and me. Latona and Mother. Inanna and Ereshkigal. I knew that our mothers had once been close, but what of our two ancestresses? Did they love each other, share secrets, know each other’s minds the way I did Haidee’s and she did mine? Were Haidee and I doomed to follow in their footsteps, to be driven apart like our mothers had been? Haidee was still angry, still grieving. Her mind was now closed to me, and I didn’t know how to overcome that barrier.
I was in no mood to confront Mother. I visited Lan instead, who was confined to her bed under Sumiko’s orders. She was sitting up when I entered, an arm folded across her chest while the other was in a makeshift sling.
“Convince Sumiko that I’m good to leave,” she pleaded. “It’s barely an injury.”
“As always, an understatement.” I sat beside her, and stroked her brow. “But are you feeling better?”
“My arm itches, a good sign it’s stitching together nicely, which I know because I know more about medicine than anyone else here.”
“Except Sumiko.”
“She’s deliberately healing me in tiny doses instead of all at once. So I could rest longer, she said.”
“She’s right.”
Lan grumbled, then softened immediately. “There’s something else, isn’t there? Are you worried about Haidee?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“I talked to her. She’s hurting and she’s angry, but neither of those are directed at you.”
“How can you be sure?”
“You were raised differently, but in many ways you are both still too much alike. She has your penchant for placing blame on herself most of all.”
I bit my lip. “But she’s not wrong, what she said back there. It’s my fault Arjun’s gone.”
“Odessa, love.” Lan shifted with a groan, then reached across to kiss me. “Your self-control is beyond anything else. Haidee’s been inside your head enough times to know that. She wanted to lash out at someone she loved, one she knows will forgive her while she’s still hurting, and that happened to be you. Talk to her. Don’t let this stretch on between you two.”
“I will. I’ll do it tonight.”
“How are you holding up?”
“I feel—out of sorts. But no more inclinations to murder anyone.” Arjun’s death had shocked me back into my senses. The voices in my head had been silent ever since.
“Odessa.”
“I promise. If I feel those old urges coming back, I’ll tell you immediately.”
“Good.” It was her turn to hesitate. “I haven’t talked to Asteria yet.”
“I’m going to. It’s time Mother and I had it out once and for all.”
“I should be with you.”
“Absolutely not. Sumiko’s orders.”
She scowled, and I giggled. It felt good to laugh. “There are some things I need to discuss with her in private.”
She nodded. “Come back when you’re done. I miss you already.”
I felt better after I emerged from Lan’s tent, and decided to face Mother before I’d lost my newfound bravery. Much to my surprise, Haidee was there, idling by the clan leaders’ tent. She caught sight of me, motioned me over. “Don’t make a sound,” she whispered.
It was obvious that she intended to eavesdrop. Latona’s voice rose from within, clear as a bell. “I don’t blame any of you for remaining distrustful of me.”
A scoff that sounded like Tamera was the response. “We could pack up and leave this instant, let you deal with the galla on your own. We owe you no allegiance, after how you’ve treated us.”
“Yes.” Latona didn’t even sound regretful. “There were only so many resources I could spare back then. It was either take you all in at the cost of the city’s sustainability, or save a portion of my people and be assured of their survival. But afterward, once we’d stabilized the aquifers . . . I should have extended you all sanctuary then. But you had already grown to resent us. You are free to leave. I will do what I can to ensure the galla do not follow.”
A pause, and then Tamera again, grudging. “No. I promised your daughters I would keep them safe. Abandoning them now would make us no better than you.”
“I can extend the city’s air-dome to accommodate your clans, or we can offer you places to stay within the districts. No matter how strong the galla are, we can wait them out for years. For as long as—”
“No!” Haidee exclaimed. I groaned, but followed her into the tent. “Mother, you’re talking about a siege!”
Latona turned, her mouth thinning. “Far better than your proposal to enter the Cruel Kingdom and fight that demoness yourselves! I won’t allow you to throw away your lives!”
“The galla grow stronger with every attack! How long will it take before the city’s resources are overtaxed and the air-dome falls? A week? A month? You’re only delaying the inevitable!”
“A week’s reprieve is far better than throwing yourself into an Abyss tomorrow!”
“It’s been seventeen years’ worth of reprieves at this point. You’ve been running away for too long!”
“I forbid you from sacrificing your life just because he’s dead!”
Haidee stiffened. Across from me, Mother chose silence, and I followed her lead. Mother Salla cleared her throat. “I believe we’ve discussed all that we can for tonight,” she said calmly, rising to her feet and gesturing for the other clan leaders to follow. “We have much to do tomorrow, so let us prepare and catch up on our sleep. Good evening, Your Holinesses.”
They left. I realized that it was the first time that the four of us had been alone together.
“I lost your father,” Latona said steadily. “And I wanted to die, too. But I also knew that few would survive without me. So I built the city and protected it as best as I could. But all I wanted then was to travel back to the Great Abyss and throw myself into its depths, hoping that somehow, I would find him within it. The future of the Golden City lies with you, Haidee. You cannot be so careless, when so many are counting on you. Even more so now that the world is turning.”
“And now that Aeon spins, Mother, tell me: Will it be Odessa or me your Devoted shall choose to sacrifice?”
Latona froze.
“Did you decide to stop the world from turning to halt the galla’s advances?”
It was my mother, Asteria, who answered, shaking her head. “We still don’t know how we did it. We were both grieving, and angry. All I remembered was wanting to lash out at everyone . . .”
“. . . like we would tear the world in two in our grief,” Latona finished softly.
“We must enter the Cruel Kingdom and find Ereshkigal,” I said. “I know that it’s a risk. The Devoted didn’t want to gamble on losing two goddesses. Sacrificing one twin for a short bounty was better than risking both. I don’t want that.”
“Odessa,” Mother said gently.
I turned to her. “You’ll always be my mother, regardless of what anyone says. I know I haven’t always been grateful for that, and I’m sorry. But we have to do this. And you know it, too.”
She bowed her head. “I haven’t always been the best parent for you. You were the only link I had to everyone I ever cared for—to my sister, to Aranth. I wept when I first learned of your sickness. It felt like you were being punished for my sins.” She looked back at Latona. “I thought you were gone. I always thought that I would feel you somehow, no matter how far away you were. That was what convinced me th
at you were dead.”
Latona sighed. “As did I. I thought Aeon was doomed, that it was my duty simply to delay the inevitable for as long as I could. I knew that anything else I tried to do would fail because . . .” She let out an unexpected sob. “Because you weren’t with me.”
“I am sorry about Aranth,” Mother said, and I was stunned to see her eyes, too, fill with tears. “I never meant to, Latona. I thought you were safe. If they’d decided to kill me, I was prepared to let them, because I was convinced you were out of harm’s way, and happy.”
For many long minutes they were silent; both simply looking at one another, trying to navigate the distance between them widened by time, trying to overcome old hatreds that had once spanned a distance as vast as the icy seas that surrounded Aranth.
“Do you remember how we first met?” Latona asked softly. “It was a hot summer day, and I had balked at being cooped up in my room for geography lessons. I thought it would be good to put those lectures into practice, and snuck out to the nearby market—”
“—unaware I’d done the same thing,” Mother finished with a faint chuckle. “We both reached for a pomegranate at the same time. The shock I felt then, seeing my own reflection gaping back at me in amazement. The panic we caused that day. The people were convinced we were demons.”
“The tower they kept you in was at the other end of the city from the one where they kept me. I could see it from my window, and realized it was identical to mine. I’d always wondered what they kept there, never realizing the irony. Surely they should have expected us to cross paths, given that they’d housed us in the same city?”
“They’d had little trouble with the goddesses that came before us, I suppose.”
Latona let out a teary laugh. “Aranth and I weren’t happy, Asteria. Not even at Farthengrove. We’d shoved all the responsibility on you, and we felt guilty. Someone tried to kill me. We were no longer safe there. We feared that if they couldn’t get me, that they would turn on you instead.”