by Rin Chupeco
“The mirage saved me,” I admitted slowly. “When the sandstorm hit, it didn’t dissolve like the others. The Hellmakers were about ready to cut me up if it hadn’t intervened. I nipped out of there while they were busy.” My turn to ask a question. “When we first saw it, before we got hit—you said something.”
Mother Goddess, she had said. It was blasphemy, for one of us to offer up any sort of prayer to Latona, and she had said it without thinking. And she had mentioned a name, as well.
She nodded. “Jesmyn. A Devoted I was particularly close to. I . . . recognized her voice.”
“What?” I sat up. “Devoted? Like the Sun Goddess’s Devoted? You were friends with one?”
“No. The Devoted of a different goddess.”
“You told us they were all evil. You said that they destroyed the world, that they should be never be shown mercy.”
“The surviving goddess and her Devoted, yes. Latona killed my liege.” Her voice was pained, not a sound I was not accustomed to hearing from someone as strong as Mother. “They killed Asteria, the goddess I served, and they killed Jesmyn, my dearest friend and the strongest of us all.”
“But why?”
“Only one of the goddesses was supposed to rule Aeon. Asteria had been chosen, but Latona—Latona yearned for the privilege.” Her voice hardened. “I swore that she would pay. That I would avenge Asteria upon the Sun Goddess’s body.”
Things clicked into place. “You were a Devoted. Not the Sun Goddess’s Devoted, but her sister’s?” She nodded. “And the mirage . . .”
“Jesmyn.” Mother Salla stared into the fire. “This is not the first time I’ve seen her spirit wandering, but this is the first I’ve ever heard her speak.”
She’d seen her before? “I didn’t know.”
“I always thought it was my punishment, to be haunted by the friends I couldn’t save. I would have known her anywhere. The dark robes we were required to wear, the silver brooch she wore that was much like my own. I had lost mine years ago, but she had always been the more careful of us. She was as punctilious in death as she was in life.”
“The other mirage knew my name. It—this Jesmyn—knew my name as well. Why?”
Mother Salla gazed steadily at me. “Your mother was a Devoted.”
I would have fallen, had I not already been sitting up. “What?”
“Devika. She was a beautiful woman. She led Asteria’s Devoted. Jesmyn and I served her. She died at the Breaking.” Her eyes flicked past the fire, into some memory I couldn’t see. “I swore to protect you, to keep you safe. You were the first child I took in, the most precious to me. Even in death, it appears Jesmyn and the others seek to keep the vows they swore both to Devika and to Asteria.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” I choked.
“What use would it have been for you to know? They are dead. The world lies in ruins.”
“They might be dead, but they’ve come back all the same.”
Mother nodded. “It was my decision to say nothing. Your mother would have wanted you to live without being encumbered by the sins of our past. But if some of these mirages have started to regain sentience, then there is something they want us to know. Jesmyn studied the goddess’s prophecies, believed the daughters would prove more vital to the world’s survival than their mother. I was more skeptical—such auguries were always cast in riddles—but perhaps she might have been onto something. One of the daughters is dead now, but one still remains.”
Haidee. “So what do I do?” I asked. “Head out into the desert and look for your friend? Ask her what she wants to tell me? Not that I think she’ll be in any mood to talk.”
“You are not as angry as I would have expected you to be.”
I shrugged. “I would have been meat on a hook in the Hellmakers’ camp if she hadn’t intervened. But I want to know more. The mirage mentioned that Inanna was waiting for me.”
She froze. “That means she wants you at the Great Abyss, Arjun. But why?”
The Sun Goddess’s face slid through my mind, and I shoved it back out. “I don’t know.”
“You’re rubbing your wrist again.”
I jerked my hand away. “I . . . met someone yesterday.”
“The goddess’s daughter?”
I made a sound of disgust. “You knew all along?”
“I wasn’t completely sure until just now. Jesmyn always believed Haidee and her twin could save us. But with the young Odessa dead, we thought it was impossible.” She smiled at my stricken expression. “I’m not mad, though a little put out you didn’t trust me enough.”
“I do trust you,” I muttered, flushing. “It’s just—I didn’t exactly—hell, I was going to kill her, and she spared my life!”
“Latona would have hunted us down had Haidee told her of you. She would have sent out armies by now.”
“You’ve seen her about too, haven’t you?” I accused. “Why didn’t you kill her?”
It was her turn to pause.
“You told me the goddesses gave us all the evils in this world,” I persisted.
“I said that Latona should be destroyed, yes. But as for Haidee . . .” Mother Salla smiled sadly. “She was a delightful baby. I used to watch over her. I’ve seen her exploring the desert on her own during the last two years. I’ve raised my gun more than a few times and aimed it her way.”
“But you never shot at her.”
She heaved a sigh. “No. It’s one thing to shoot Latona, and another to shoot a seventeen-year-old girl who I doubt had much say in her mother’s atrocities.”
Mother Salla didn’t have a lot of flaws, but a soft spot for kids appeared to be one of them. My brothers and sisters and I were proof of that.
“You said we had to take them all down,” I argued, but with less heat than I knew I should have. “You said they won’t hesitate to kill any of us.”
“Didn’t you say that she spared your life?”
I scowled, not having an answer to that.
“She cares, this girl. She is not to blame for Latona’s sins. Her own history is . . . complicated, one I doubt that she is even aware of. She would be more likely to agree to a cease-fire. Even an alliance.”
“These are a lot of assumptions based on the words of mirages, Mother.”
“‘When the dead find words, the goddess and the Devoted son will meet atop a fish not a fish, on a sea not a sea. It is she who travels to the endless Abyss, and it is he who guides her.’”
A chill took over me. “What the hell?”
“One of the prophecies Jesmyn was fond of quoting—nearly eighteen years ago. A prophecy tied to Haidee and her sister when they were born. It was an enigma then, but I can tell,” she added, gazing at my face, “that you know what it means.”
I nodded, still speechless.
“Death would not have changed Jesmyn’s goals. If she has reason to see you both to the breach, then I believe her.”
“How many times have you seen her out there?”
“Enough times to accept what she tells you. I taught you everything I know, Arjun, and you’ve always been my best student. If there’s anyone capable of surviving the desert, it would be you. But you must understand all the risks involved. As good as you are . . . the desert can take even the best of us.”
I stared at my hand. “Do you know what that mirage wants us to do there?”
“As far as we know, the world died at the Great Abyss. Brighthenge, the hallmark of the goddesses’ power, was destroyed. But that temple held the answers to life and death, to mysteries so complex they puzzled even the cleverest Devoted. Perhaps there are answers waiting there that can save us. Perhaps Jesmyn’s specter knows this. I believe Haidee has an important part to play there, and it would do all of us well to see her alive to accomplish this. I agree with Jesmyn—if anyone can protect her, it would be you. Any possibility that the world can be healed is one worth making the attempt for.”
“Now you sound like—” a
nd I cursed quietly, bit my lip.
“Who?”
“Nothing. No one.” I straightened. “Are you saying you’re giving me permission to—leave?”
“I permit nothing. I’ve always instilled in you all a sense of independence, that you are beholden to no one, that you must make your own choices. We have no reason to return to the surface. We have enough food here to tide us over for months, enough materials to keep us occupied until then. If you believe that this is the right course for you, then I will not stop you. All I ask is that you return home in one piece. Unless you have need of reinforcements—”
“No. Nothing’s been proven yet. I’d rather—I’ll do this on my own.” Silently, I cursed Haidee. All this crap about saving the world and healing the breach—I didn’t want her to be right. “Kad spotted the army leaving the Golden City days ago, off to the mines. Our stocks might be replenished, but we could always do with a little silver.” The goddess’s army was always ripe for ambush, if one knew how to strategize. “And my arm’ll be good by the time they return.”
She laughed at my eagerness. “You’re right. We could use more resources for our metalwork. What are you suggesting?”
The mirage wanted me at the butt end of the world, with the whale-loving goddess. To do what?
I wasn’t angry that Mother Salla had never told me about my past. But Haidee—if she was right—
And it was better than some mirage chasing after me forever, hounding me to get to the Abyss before the next group of cannibals found me in between sandstorms.
“We still have those Silverguard uniforms from our last outing.” That had been fun, waylaying the soldiers manning a Golden City caravan that had lagged behind due to the sandstorms that frequently plagued that route. We’d stolen a good share of the silver and left the men butt-naked for their superiors to find. “They’re due tomorrow at the city if their schedule holds, and I’m feeling lucky. One last good haul before I have to leave and find the mirage.”
“Is that true?” We both turned around to find the rest of my siblings peering in at us from the doorway, having obviously heard enough of the conversation, because Millie looked about ready to cry. “Are you going to leave, Arjun?”
“We’re going with you,” Imogen said immediately.
I scowled. “No, you’re not.”
“You’re going to head off to hunt down some weird mirage on your own?” She snapped. “Are you trying to die?”
“No, but you’re not abandoning your own responsibilities just so you can come with me to test out a theory.” I knew very well that it wasn’t just a theory, but they didn’t need to know that. Every instinct I had told me that I was going to find myself at the Great Abyss whether I wanted to or not. And there was no way I was going to drag my brothers and sisters into that.
I didn’t want to be right, but I’ve never been that lucky.
“Are you really going to let him go?” Faraji asked Mother.
“I believe Arjun’s doing the right thing.”
“Besides,” I added, “I shot down ten million cannibals, remember? I’ll be fine.”
Imogen looked faintly envious, but Mother Salla’s blessing had clinched it for the others. Kadmos clapped me on the back. “I still have no idea what’s going on . . . but damn, man, you better get back soon, or I’m gonna claim full ownership of that rig you just brought back.”
I grinned. “Well, once Millie finishes working her magic on it, I’ll bring you back to the spot where the Hellmakers abandoned a couple more. You’ll need a replacement, because I’ll be taking this one with me.”
Besides—the damn goddess still owed me for destroying my Howler.
Chapter Seven
Maleeyah, Formerly Odessa
“TELL ME AGAIN WHY YOU’RE coming with us,” Lan asked, while I curled up on her chair and watched them pack.
Noelle shrugged. “You’ll need someone to look after your belongings for the journey.”
“You do know what happened on my last expedition, right?”
Noe shrugged again. “Only that I wasn’t there to take care of you, milady.”
They’d been at it for hours, and I would have laughed at their ridiculousness if I wasn’t also sulking. I was all too aware that I was trespassing despite my anger, but as Lan had said nothing about kicking me out, I saw no reason to leave.
Instead, I let my gaze drift around her room. For a self-professed former thief, Lan had significantly little in the way of possessions. The room was almost spartan—I remembered her joking once that she only stole luxury items but never kept them. A small wardrobe contained what little there was of her clothes, and the dresser was practically empty of creams and lotions, save for a tube of ointment that protected against windburn. The closest she had to paintings were a row of ranger badges lined up neatly on the wall.
“Having my clothes folded properly is not a major requirement for this campaign, Noe,” Lan was saying. “And not to be offensive about it, but you don’t exactly know any magic to fall back on.”
“Several other members of the detachment have no proficiency in spells, either.” Noelle had always been unfailingly polite, but from my experience, that didn’t mean she didn’t get her way when she dug in her heels deeply enough. “And I believe that what I lack in magic I will more than make up for in other areas should a fight arise.”
“Nobody faces off against twenty-foot shadows armed with just a cudgel, Noe.”
“We must agree to disagree, milady. If you will excuse me, I have my own supplies to pack.”
“This isn’t over, Noe! There is no way I can in good conscience send you out to—she’s not listening to me,” Lan sighed, as Noelle glided out of the room before the ultimatum was finished. “And why are you smiling?”
“You two are very close, aren’t you?” I asked softly.
“We grew up in the same orphanage. She was two years older than me. Her mother was a proper chambermaid, but her father was a general and taught her how to defend herself. She’s the best fighter I know, saved my ass more times than I can count. I’m still not entirely sure why she took up this position when Asteria offered. She was always looking after the spiders that the orphanage accumulated, and I’m surprised she wasn’t keeping any as pets at the Spire.” Lan lowered her voice. “Are you still mad at me?”
The corners of my mouth turned down. “Are you still mad at me for not telling you who I was?”
“I said it no longer mattered. Odessa, you know I’m the last person here who’d want to return to the breach. But if the choice is between me risking my life and losing you, I’d choose the first.”
On some other occasion, I would have felt giddy at the confession. “And I’m saying that losing you isn’t worth it. Let me go with you.”
Lan shook her head. “On the off chance I don’t make it back—” I scowled at her, and she quickly amended, “On the remotest possibility that I don’t . . . well, as much as you don’t want to hear it, Aranth will go on without me. I can’t say the same if we lose you.”
But the strange galla wanted me on the journey. They wanted me to reach the Great Abyss. They wanted to protect me. Lan knew nothing about the rituals, but I did. Even now, when I closed my eyes, I felt a strong pull east, past the seas that bordered Aranth and into the wildlands.
The galla with the blue jewels had given me the first of their gifts, and this newfound feeling was part of it, I was sure.
But Lan’s and Mother’s minds were made up, and I knew nothing I said would change them.
“What are these?” I asked instead, touching one of the badges. There were names inscribed on every one. Merritt, Wricken, Derel, Aoba, Cecily, Madi, Yarrow . . .
Lan paused. Her words came out in short bursts. “Former comrades.”
My hand dropped as I realized what that meant. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s a ranger custom. It’s the least we can do to honor them.”
Lan wasn’t wearing her own badge, eit
her. It was up on the wall a slight distance away from the others, together with another name. I touched it, reading the name off its shiny engraving. “Nuala?”
“Nuala,” Lan said, her voice so very strange, and I felt jealousy well up, tamped down immediately by shame.
A chorus of bells rang out, a signal for the group to gather at the dock. Lan slung her bag over her shoulder. “Odessa.” Her voice was almost pleading. “I don’t want to leave with you angry.”
“If I promise not to be angry, would you stay?”
“I can’t.”
“I guess we both can’t have everything we want, then.” I walked out of her room without another look back, my eyes brimming with tears that I quickly dashed away. It was no good crying now. Not when I had to act fast.
Maleeyah was waiting for me in my room; unsurprising, because I had summoned her there. “Is there anything I can do for you, Your Holiness?” she asked nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. “Your mother is expecting me at the pier soon.”
“It will only take a minute,” I said gently, and in this at least I was honest. I opened my aether-gates, channeling every kernel of magic I had straight into the other girl.
She made no sound when she toppled over, unconscious, and I caught her easily, laying her out on my bed. Mindful of the time, I started stripping her of her clothes, then shimmying out of my own. Maleeyah and I were almost the same size, which was why I’d chosen her. I used Air patterns to lift her slowly into the air, letting the currents ease her into my dress.
I flexed my fingers and summoned Light this time, and watched as Maleeyah’s hair changed from black to a multicolored array similar to my own, though her hair didn’t quite float the way mine did. I shifted her onto her side so that her back faced the door. Mother would assume I was still mad; whenever we argued, she would often leave me to my own devices afterward, checking in again after supper. By the time she discovered this ruse, I hoped to be long gone.
Then I turned the patterns on myself, checking my progress in the mirror as my hair grew darker, the same shade of black that Lan had found so appealing when we first met. The memory sent another shot of guilt through me that I quickly elbowed aside. No use in dwelling on that now.