by Rin Chupeco
Asteria sighed, leaning back to close her eyes. “You need some rest yourself, Lan,” she murmured. “There’s nothing else you can do.”
She was dealing with this a lot better than I was. Order had been restored now that the danger had passed and the shadowed creature was gone, but I’d spent the aftermath tucked against Odessa’s bedside, unwilling to leave her while she slept.
“There has to be another way.” What if those shadows inside her grew big enough to swallow her whole?
Asteria hesitated. She turned to Noelle, who, ever the dedicated servant, was hovering by her elbow. “I would like to talk to Lan in private. Ensure that no one else visits Odessa while we’re away, and don’t leave her side until we return.”
“As you command, Your Holiness.”
Puzzled, I rose and took one last look at Odessa. Reassured by her deep, peaceful breathing, I left the room and followed the goddess to her private chambers, settling down on a nearby chair. Asteria stared out her window, at the rain and the fog blanketing Aranth while it tried to settle back into some semblance of normalcy, if there ever was such a thing. “You’re certain this wasn’t the shadow you encountered?” she asked.
My memories were still fractured, but some things I could recall, if vaguely. I wanted to help Odessa, but even those brief glimpses of recollection sent faint tremors through me, like my mind was warning me from remembering too much. “I’m not sure. It felt different. I think the one we encountered spoke. We all heard it speak. I think . . . I . . . .”
Nuala. Madi. Cecily. Merritt.
Choose your sacrifice, Catseye.
My shaking redoubled.
“No more,” Asteria said sharply. “Don’t push yourself, Lan.”
“But if there’s something I can remember that connects this to Odessa’s—”
“Not at the cost of your sanity.” The goddess stared off into the distance. A strange smile touched her face.
“How much do you know about Inanna?”
I was surprised by the change of subject. “I didn’t even know that goddesses existed until ten years ago, when you rescued me from the city sewers . . . so not much.”
“The Great Mother. All goddesses sprang from her line. There was a time when the sun and the moon took their turns in the sky, granting us both the brightness of day and the comfort of night. Nature was bountiful. Inanna fashioned men from the earth and made us in her likeness. But she knew she could not grow attached to any of the world’s creatures, lest her partiality sway her mind and make them flawed.”
“Let me guess. She grew attached, anyway.”
“She fell in love, yes.” Sorrow laced the goddess’s voice. “With a man she had made, perfect in form and figure. For him she left her other duties incomplete, allowing war and sickness to plague the lands instead of cleansing them. In due time he too died and was sent to the kingdom of death. She followed him there but realized that not even she could defeat mortality. And so, as the legend goes, she split herself in two—one to rule the heavens above, and another, shadowed self to rule the lands below, dooming the world to lie forever in between. And that is why every generation of goddesses bears twins; a sign of her dual nature.”
I nodded, still not understanding where she was going with all this.
“When Inanna first descended into the underworld, dark creatures not of her making already thrived there. Shadowed forms of teeth and tusks, demonic entities that hunted for souls to deliver unto their realms. But seven high galla, in particular, served as guardians of that realm. Keepers of the underworld mysteries, distinguished from the others by great horns on their heads. It was they who granted her entry, they who ensured that she could return to the land of the living.”
“And one of these galla visited Aranth? Why didn’t you mention this before we left for—when I—” I cleared my throat, suddenly hoarse. Galla. Those were the shadows that had killed my team.
“I could not be sure. So many illusions plague the lands outside Aranth.”
“What does this have to do with Odessa?”
“I believe the shadow at the port was a high galla. There may be a connection between them and her sickness.”
“But why choose her?”
Why not target you? was my unspoken question, but she knew me well enough to answer.
“I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because she’s younger, more impressionable. Perhaps I am not as easy to take. I once had a choice, Lan, like every goddess before me had to make. I . . . chose wrong. But I had no idea how great the ramifications of that decision would be. Had I known that the price for my life and for Odessa’s would be a world unmade . . .” She gave a quick, almost nonchalant shrug. “I had a sister, once. We were raised in seclusion, unknown to the people. It was easy for them to forget we were twins.”
Much like Odessa growing up lonely in the Spire. Asteria might not have been conscious of it, but she had inflicted on her daughter the same isolation she had suffered. “And what was the choice you were supposed to make?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said heavily. “My twin paid for hers with her life. Fortunately, Odessa will no longer be forced to choose, as we had. The high galla will not harm her, that much I know. Regardless”—she drew in a long breath, like she was bracing herself for a forthcoming battle—“you must return to the breach.”
“No!” The chair overturned in my haste, but I didn’t care. All I could see were the bodies strewn around, the horrifying shadows looming over me with their fanged teeth and their bloody absence of eyes. I could feel the sharp of the dark scraping against my cheek again, a voice that was not truly a voice echoing in my head.
Choose. Choose.
I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t go back there.
“Lan.” Asteria had shifted so that my hands were wrapped in hers, her pale eyes bright. I tried to pull back, but her grip was a vise. “You never told me what happened.”
I knew that, and I knew that she had every right to ask. That she hadn’t said much about her concern for my sanity. But now it was Odessa’s life at stake. I swallowed, licked suddenly dry lips. “I told you about those demons. About how they wiped out the rest of my team.”
“Yes,” Asteria said quietly. “But you never told me why they spared you.”
She’d praised my courage then, my skills. How strong I’d been. How I’d done my damnedest not to let my team all be torn to the winds and served up as meat, a celebratory feast to whatever other ravening creatures made that darkness their home. Everyone had looked at me with awe, like I was someone better than what I knew I was. Tianlan of the Two Lives.
I’d said nothing to dispel their assumptions. In my old life as a street rat fleecing the good people of Aranth, I’d stolen and lied to survive. I was still that same fraud, and a black-piped hood and better lodgings couldn’t change that.
She leaned closer and released my hands. Hers crept up my face, her touch cool and soothing. “You never told me,” she said, “how you were able to travel all the way back from the breach.”
“I don’t remember.” I had no recollection of the passage of time once the slaughter was over, once the shadows had turned away, and I was left with the dead. I had no memories of dragging Nuala back to Aranth until they’d found me beside her corpse a mile from the city, close to dying myself. Our journey to the breach had taken three months of travel, past the Lunar Lakes and then the Spirit Lands to reach the borders of the Great Abyss. I had made it back from there to Aranth in less than a day, with nothing to show but a lover’s dead body and nightmares that festered beyond my healing.
“The map you made for us. Was it accurate?”
I gripped her wrists. “You can’t let Odessa go to the Abyss. That’s suicide. She could die from the journey alone.”
“I have no intention of doing that.” Asteria turned away, weary. “I thought that Brighthenge, once my temple, had been taken over by the Abyss. But the high galla have a pact with Brighthenge. The appearance of
this one tells me some aspect of my temple has survived, that some magic may still remain there. There are healing springs, powerful magic within its sanctum. The magic that ripped the world apart—it can also cure my daughter. For as long as Odessa’s disease could be contained, I thought I could spare her Brighthenge. That is no longer the case.”
She looked at me. “I will not force anyone to join unless they volunteer. The mission is the same: find a secure path into the breach. But now it is imperative that we reach Brighthenge as well, and assess its current condition. I would travel to the breach myself if there was anyone who could take my place defending Aranth. Can you say the same? Would you risk returning to the breach again, for her?”
I froze, feeling exposed—like she could read every thought I’d ever had of Odessa, pure and otherwise. “I—I can’t go back there—”
“I would ask Catseye Sumiko to accompany the mission as well, if she is willing—”
“I don’t need any help!” I roared.
“You’re a brilliant ranger, Lan. And in the wildlands, which we still know so little of, you flourish. But you cannot do this on your own.”
“‘Flourish’ is not the word I would use.”
“Not even for Odessa?” she asked again, and I knew. She wouldn’t force me to volunteer, but she’d frame it in a way that I couldn’t refuse. “I have eyes, Lan. I see how you look at her. I know of her forays out of the tower, though I suspect you didn’t.”
“I’ve done nothing but treat her with respect,” I said through gritted teeth. How dare she? How dare she use my affection for Odessa to twist this against me. Had she done this deliberately? Had she selected me for Odessa’s new Catseye not because she felt sorry for me, but to keep us both in line?
“Understand, Lan, there’s nothing I won’t do to protect my daughter. You’re the only one left who knows the way back to the breach. What would you have done in my place? If you were her mother and I your subordinate, what would you have done differently? You are of the Liangzhu; Tianlan in your people’s tongue means ‘azure sky.’ A bold decision by your mother, I’ve always thought, to name you for something most people would never see again. It might not appear that way now, but there is no one else I would trust on this journey than you. Will you?”
She knew what I was going to say. If there was anything I feared more than those horrible shadows, it was Odessa’s death. “I’ll go,” I spat out, balling my hands into fists. “Damn you, I’ll go.”
Asteria rose to her feet, her worry framing her face in lovely lines. “I am sorry, Lan. Show me a better alternative, and I will take it up in a heartbeat.”
“It’s an excellent plan, Mother.” Odessa stepped into the room, Noelle trailing in after her and looking slightly apologetic. “But it would be so much better if I could accompany the next expedition into the breach, with Lan.”
I spun around, my face pale, wondering how much she’d overheard. Asteria rose from her chair. “I won’t allow that, Odessa.”
“Your Holinesses,” Noe said, and cleared her throat.
“You don’t know.” The young goddess had been crying, her cheeks streaked with tears. “You don’t know what I know. I know what it wants. It’s not going to stop until it finds me, and every day I stay here puts you all at risk.”
The creature called her daughter, she had said.
“Odessa,” I said gently, and she stumbled into my arms, burying her face against my chest. “Did it say something else to you?”
“It didn’t need to.” Her words were muffled. “As soon as I saw it, I realized what it wanted. I’m the reason it’s here in the city. If you’re going to that terrible place again, Lan, then let me go with you.”
“You’ve never even been outside the city. And with your condition—” This wasn’t how I wanted to protect her. She should be safe in the Spire. What was the point of risking my life if not for that?
She gripped my arms tighter. “Not going outside the city didn’t stop the spread of my sickness, did it? I can die just as quickly here as in some other part of the world.”
“Your Holinesses,” Noe repeated.
“No, you won’t,” Asteria said sharply. “You’ll be safe in Aranth. Our defenses will be enough. We’ll fight every monster that comes to these shores.”
“You don’t understand.” Odessa lifted her face from me, her eyes distant. “That creature—it wasn’t attacking us. It was warning us. Aranth won’t survive the year, Mother. The waters are rising too fast, the ice coming in too quickly. In months the city will be gone.”
Asteria’s vision swept to the forefront of my mind. Aranth, disappearing under the waves. Odessa must have seen it, too.
“Still,” I muttered. “We can’t—I can’t let you just—”
“I will not permit this, Odessa!” Asteria’s face was strained. “It’s too risky. You can die of worse things out there.”
“You knew!” Odessa snarled, turning on her. “You knew this was going to happen! You told me it wouldn’t! You saw the galla yourself! I have to do this, Mother!”
“This isn’t some game—”
“It was you who told me about the ritual, about Inanna’s Song! About what it means to us as goddesses! What difference does it make if I die here or out there?”
“It does make a difference!” Asteria roared, surprising us. The goddess never lost her composure. “Aeon is a dangerous world. You can barely stand on your own two feet for more than an hour, and you still think you can survive the most dangerous place in it? I forbid you to set foot out of Aranth! If I have to chain you up for the rest of your days, there will be no compromise on this! And don’t think I won’t carry out that threat!”
“You’re not serious!”
“Try me!”
Mother and daughter stared at each other; angry, stubborn, neither willing to relinquish her position.
In that sudden, unexpected silence Noe cleared her throat again. “Your Holinesses, we have visitors.”
“This is not the time, Noe,” I hissed.
“They span the whole coast.”
“What?” I made for the window and looked out—and swore.
The galla surrounded us. Titans made of shadows, flickering in and out of vision, yet staying perfectly still. They blocked out the horizon with their vaguely human shapes and towering height, waist-deep in the waters surrounding the ice floes that continued their inexorable journey toward us. They could have attacked long before we were made aware of their presence, yet they—didn’t. They watched us silently like colossi, without sound or movement, but the potential for violence hung thick in the air.
Asteria had joined me by the window, but Odessa remained where she was. “They’re warning us,” the younger goddess whispered. “The world is dying, and they know it.”
“But why would they go out of their way to do that?” I demanded. “We’re far from allies.”
“Aeon’s their world, too.” Odessa shivered. “If it dies, then maybe so do they.”
It was hard to imagine them capable of dying, given how horrific they were. “Are they trying to intimidate us?” And was it working?
“They won’t hurt us. Not tonight.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Odessa stared serenely at the horrifying figures. “I just am.”
I stewed. “Noe, I want the city on alert. Find Janella and tell her to—”
“Done.”
“Send word to Gracea. Keep everyone away from the shores—”
“Done.”
I sighed. “I did tell you not to leave Odessa’s side, didn’t I?”
“Technically, milady, I am still by her side. The guards keeping watch below have sharp ears. I communicated to them everything I thought necessary through an open window.”
“Thanks. Though I would have appreciated earlier notice.”
“That was not for lack of trying, milady.”
I could feel the patterns swirling around Asteria, glittering w
ith the potential of a small tornado. “I won’t permit it,” she snapped, her eyes trained on one of the creatures. It moved its head in our direction.
“Mother,” Odessa began again, but Asteria made a sharp gesture with her hand. “Thank you for volunteering, Lan.” Her voice was too steady, too imperturbable to be natural. “I will take a day with my Devoted to put together another team, and you shall make for the breach the day after that. The journey, at least, should be smoother than the last. Whatever those demons intend, it appears that we have their blessings. Should that change, I am confident that I can hold off any attempt they make to take this city.”
“Surely you’re not serious,” Odessa said, disbelieving. “Lan, tell her you’re not going without me.”
Breathe. In and out, in and out. “I am going without you.” I tried to sound stern, hoped the faint wobble in my voice wouldn’t give me away. “I agree with your mother. Whatever happens, this is still the safest place for—”
She turned away from me, her hair shifting to a sudden fiery red.
“I swear that I’ll return, Ame—Odessa—”
She was out of the room before I could finish. I heard the sound of a door slamming shut.
Asteria leaned out the window. I could hear the crackle of patterns manifesting around her, bathing her in brilliant lights. The winds howled and the rain continued to pour, but her words traveled far, reeking of both fury and desperation. “You have what you want. Leave!”
I didn’t know if it heard her, but the monster turned away all the same, and the rest of its terrifying brethren followed.
I stepped away from Asteria, prepared to give her privacy now that our conversation was at an end. But as I glanced back at her one last time, I could have sworn that there was a faint smile on the goddess’s lips as she watched the demons wade back into the frothing waters, the waves closing over their heads until they were lost underneath the storm-swept seas.
Chapter Six
Arjun, Lucky Son of a Bitch
“I GOTTA ADMIT,” KADMOS TOLD me, already up to his elbows in innards and fat, “you’ve always been a lucky son of a bitch. Of course in all the acres of emptiness out here you’d be the one to find a damned whale ripe for the picking.” He tossed a wrapped bundle to Derra, who grinned and stacked it up alongside the others.