Dove knew the God had returned even before He bellowed for food and drink. It was like the sensation of someone’s breath on the back of her neck just before they spoke. She didn’t need to see or hear Him to know He was there.
Her Attendants scrambled to obey his commands as his heavy footsteps sounded closer and closer to where Dove sat, quietly sewing tufts of boar hair around the hemline of one of her skirts.
“Dove! Your God returns victorious!”
She put her sewing down just before He lifted her roughly to her feet and pulled her into His arms, kissing her passionately. She forced herself to go soft and compliant under His touch, though she noticed that now even the taste of Him was different from that of her usurped beloved.
When she was free to speak, she bowed to Him, saying, “Congratulations, my Lord. Would You like to sit with me on the balcony while You eat, and tell me of Your victory?”
“Actually, I am hungry for more than food and drink.” He hooked one massive arm around her, lifting her off her feet, while He groped her body.
Dove could hear the shocked gasps of her Attendants and feel their stares on her. She wanted to break away from Him and run to the private area she and Dead Eye had made their bedroom chamber—and then curl up and disappear. But Dove could not. Even if she escaped His unwanted embrace, He would just chase her as if she were an errant child—or, more accurately, a slave. And Dove had no way of gauging what He might do to her if He lost patience. So she submitted, though it humiliated her to know the young women who served her were witnessing the God’s rough treatment that was so, so unlike how Dead Eye, her Champion, her beloved, had been with her.
“You are soft and young. That delights me,” Death murmured into her ear. “You will make a lovely vessel for my Consort, whether the Great Goddess is ready to awaken or not.”
Dove felt a flush of hope. “Does the Goddess not wish to awaken, my Lord?”
“My Consort can sometimes be overly cautious, but I am very persuasive. Do not worry yourself, little bird. She shall awaken within you. I insist she shall.”
“Wh-when will that happen, my Lord?”
“Are you eager or afraid?”
“Both,” she told a half-truth.
“Four nights from now as darkness falls we will take possession of the City in the Trees. Once the city is ours, I will infect you with the skin sloughing disease. It takes hold quickly, which pleases me. I have waited long enough for my Consort,” He said. “Within just a day or two after being infected you will begin to show symptoms. Once you do, I will choose the finest doe in the forest to join with you. When you have merged with this queen of the forest, then I will make blood sacrifice and force the Goddess to awaken.”
“Blood sacrifice? Whose?” Dove asked, though she felt the answer in the pit of her stomach before He spoke it.
“Yours, of course. Just as Dead Eye awakened me with his blood, so shall you awaken the Great Goddess with yours.” He nuzzled her neck and bit her soft flesh painfully. “You will rule for an eternity by my side!”
No, Dove told herself silently as He continued to grope her unresisting body. I won’t be here, just as Dead Eye is no longer here.
“Kiss me, little bird!”
Dove did as He commanded, though it turned her stomach. As soon as she was able she broke off the kiss. “My Lord, You need to feed Your strength. Shall we go to the balcony? I can smell the food. My Attendants must have it almost ready for You. We can sit, eat, and You can tell me of Your successes today. Then we can retire to our bedchamber.”
“I don’t need a bedchamber to have my way with you,” He said gruffly.
Dove couldn’t stop herself from tensing. She resisted Him, pushing against His massive chest until the God put her down.
“My Lord.” She spoke softly, for His ears alone. “I know You don’t need a bedchamber, but I do. I would be much more comfortable there, and much more able to please You.”
“And do you truly care about pleasing me, little bird?”
“I do, my Lord,” she said earnestly. But only because I care whether I live or die, she added silently.
“And would you have asked your Dead Eye to wait for his pleasure?” The God’s voice was low but had a dangerous edge to it.
“I wouldn’t have had to, my Lord. He would not have insisted I please him in front of my Attendants. He would show me more respect than that.” She held herself very still after she’d spoken the words that seemed to spill from her lips without her volition. Will He kill me now? Or will He simply just hurt me more than He usually does?
Many footsteps pounded against the tiled floor, causing the God to turn from her, though He kept one hand clamped tightly around her slim wrist.
“Ah, Iron Fist! You have come and brought the other Reapers more quickly than I anticipated. Good! You may all join me on the balcony to eat and drink as we discuss what is to come.” His attention returned to Dove. “Have your Attendants bring more food and drink, and then you may join me, but only if you are truly with me.” He paused and lowered His face close to hers. “I feel your apathy. Do not imagine you are hiding it from me. I grow weary of it, little bird. Always remember, I am a God—fully awakened. I need a vessel for my Consort, but I do not need an Oracle.”
Dove swallowed her fear and lifted her chin. “That is only true if there are no other Gods but You, my Lord.”
Death laughed, long and heartily. “Your courage is entertaining, little bird. Now do as I command before I become weary of it, too.” He loosed her wrist with a shove that had her staggering away from Him.
Lily was by her side in moments. “Mistress?”
“Death commands you bring enough food and drink for His Reapers. Please do so.” Then she lowered her voice. “How many Reapers have joined Him?”
“All of them, Mistress,” Lily replied in an equally quiet voice. “It is Iron Fist and the eight others.”
“Lizard is not with them?”
“Lizard did not return with the God,” Lily said.
“Where is our food and drink?” bellowed the God.
“Go!” Dove said. “Quickly.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Lily hurried away, calling to the other Attendants.
Dove smoothed back her hair and went to the part of the chamber where her Attendants always kept clean freshwater in troughs, wooden bowls, and buckets. She took one of the buckets, dipped it into a trough, and then felt for the dry, clean cloth that hung nearby. Folding it neatly over her arm, she carried the bucket to the God’s balcony, pausing at the entrance.
“Little bird, I am pleased you decided to join us,” Death said.
“My Lord, if You allow, I would wash Your hands and feet in preparation for Your meal.”
“I will indeed allow. And when you have finished with me, you may wash each of my Reapers as well, starting with my Blade, Iron Fist.” His voice changed as He addressed His men so that the God sounded almost jovial. “Though do not get accustomed to my Dove serving you. When the Great Goddess resides within her body, she will serve no one except me.”
Dove made her face neutral as the Reapers all chuckled along with their God, though her thoughts were whirring. Life serves Death? That doesn’t seem right. Doesn’t Death ultimately serve Life? No matter His bravado now, I heard Him say that He was going to force the Goddess to awaken. But can a Goddess be forced to do anything? Keeping her thoughts to herself, Dove felt her way to Death and knelt before Him, gently washing each of His hands as He ignored her and spoke to His men as if she were deaf as well as blind.
“We take the city of the Others four nights from now,” Death said. He paused then, as if waiting for questions. When there were none, He continued, and Dove could hear the smile in His voice. “Very good. Very, very good. And because you show the trust you have in me by not asking, I will gladly explain. Today, Lizard made a noble sacrifice. Tell the Reapers, Iron Fist.”
“Lizard died today after infecting a great sow with the skin sloughing disease. The beast then followed me to the place of the Others. I saw them capture her. I saw them rejoice for the food she brought them.”
“Food that is as poisoned as was poor Lizard’s body,” Death finished for him.
“And that is it.” Dove recognized Rebel’s voice. “Any of the Others who eat of the sow’s meat will be infected. My Lord, there will be no one left to stand against us!”
Dove moved from the God’s hands to His feet, washing them carefully as she listened.
“Their numbers will still be far more than ours, though they will be ill, and much weakened. And they will not expect an army such as ours led by a God.”
“Yes! To war! To the City in the Trees!” the Reapers shouted.
Dove felt Death lift His arm and they quieted. Soundless, she moved from the God to the first of the Reapers, the God’s Blade, Iron Fist, quickly and efficiently washing his hands and feet and trying not to flinch at the filth and grim that sloughed from his skin.
“We are not yet ready. Over these next days the Others will grow weaker, and more divided, but we must grow stronger. I need each of you to gather any Hunter or Harvester who has not yet begun to cough blood. Take them to the forest, far enough in that the animals are not tainted with mutations and poisons but are pure and disease-free. Then do for them what I have done for you. Flay each creature and join it with a Harvester or Hunter so that they, too, may be changed into a Reaper, a Warrior, a demigod!”
The men surged to their feet, and the bucket was knocked from Dove’s hands, spilling its foul water all over her skirt and legs.
“Dove, go inside. Wash yourself. Wait in my bedchamber. You have made a mess here. Begone!” the God snapped at her.
Dove stood. She faced Death. Slowly, gracefully, she sank into a deep bow. “Yes, my Lord.”
She held her head high, walking with regal dignity from the God’s balcony as her Attendants rushed past her, carrying platters, fragrant with food, to the men. Dove went to her bedchamber, stepped within the veiled area, and crumpled to the floor. She put her face in her hands and her body quaked with misery as she wished she could shed tears and with them maybe shed some of the despair that pooled within her.
“Mistress?” Lily’s voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. “Are you well?”
“No,” Dove moaned. “I am not well. I am broken.”
“Oh, Mistress!” Lily stepped through the veil and knelt beside Dove. Hesitantly at first, Lily put her arms around Dove. When she didn’t resist, Lily hugged her, rocking slowly as Dove continued to tremble in her embrace. She sang a sweet, wordless melody that Dove recognized as a song young girls sang as they waited to be presented to the statue of the God when first they began to bleed. Somehow it calmed Dove. It also made her wonder at Lily’s age.
“How old are you, Lily?” Dove asked, still resting her head against her Attendant’s shoulder.
“I have known fourteen winters,” Lily said.
“So young and kind,” Dove said. “Forgive me for ever speaking harshly to you.”
“I knew it was not in your true nature, Mistress.…” Lily paused, and Dove could feel a new tension in her slim body.
“Go ahead. Ask,” Dove said.
“What are we going to do, Mistress? Is He really our God awakened?” Lily whispered frantically.
“He is a God. There are others. He wants to bring one alive inside me, to take me over, just as He took over my Dead Eye.”
“You’ll be gone? Just as our Champion is no more?”
“Yes,” Dove said.
“I—I will still serve you faithfully, Mistress,” Lily said with a sob. “Even when you are no more.”
“Thank you, Lily. But for right now, I need a friend more than I need a servant,” Dove said. “Will you be my friend?”
Lily hugged Dove more tightly. “I already am, Mistress. It just took you until now to know it. And I know it’s blasphemous to say, but I do not want a Goddess to take over your body.”
“Neither do I, Lily, and after hearing what the God revealed to me today I am beginning to think the Goddess does not want it, either.” Dove lifted her head. Her hand found Lily’s soft face. Gently, Dove traced the lines of her cheek. “Will you help me, my friend?”
“Yes, Mistress. What is it you would like my help with?”
Suddenly Dove knew what she must do. “Have the other Attendants gathered sacrificial creatures as the God commanded?”
“Of course, Mistress. They try to only capture creatures that do not appear to be sick—just as your Dead Eye commanded before the God silenced him.”
“And there are creatures caught right now? Being held for the morning sacrifice?” Dove asked, feeling more and more hopeful.
“Yes, Mistress. They are caged on the floor below us.”
“Take me there—quickly and quietly. Draw no attention from the God or His Reapers.”
Without another word Lily took Dove’s hand. They tiptoed on bare feet from the Chamber of the God to the broken staircase. Lily helped her Mistress pick her way slowly down to the floor below them, which was empty except for several cages, one of them filled with animals waiting to be sacrificed.
“What have they captured?” Dove asked, running her hands over the wooden cages.
“Pigeons,” Lily said. “Six of them. They are all in one cage.”
Dove lifted her face, feeling for wind from one of the many broken windows. “Help me carry their cage to the opening, there, across from us.”
“Yes, Mistress.” At the window Lily paused with Dove beside her. “Now what?” she asked.
“Now we pray,” Dove said. She bowed her head and spoke the words hesitantly at first and then with growing confidence as she felt the rightness of it within her. “Great Goddess, I am Dove—the vessel your Consort, the God of Death, wishes you to inhabit after He forces you to awaken. But, Goddess, I believe you do not wish to be awakened, just as I do not wish to be possessed. If I am right, I beg your help, Great Goddess! Save me from Death, please. To show my respect and my fidelity to you, I release these creatures that were to be sacrificed to Death, and instead I give them to you, to Life, as I also give myself and my life to you!” Dove felt around until she found the latch that held the cage closed and then opened it. In a flurry of wings the pigeons flew from their jail, rushing through the window and into the night sky.
“Did She speak to you?” Lily asked in a small, tremulous voice.
“I can’t tell yet,” Dove said. “But I feel the rightness of this within me, and it is enough that I make this offering to the Goddess. Let us hope that She is content to sleep and does not wish to awaken.”
Lily’s small hand closed over her Mistress’s. “I follow you, Mistress, and if you worship this Great Goddess, so will I.”
“Then know this: I will never enter the City in the Trees, and I will never be made into a shell for a Goddess to claim, even if it’s against Her will.”
“But the God just said that we will take the city in four days.”
“He will. I will not.”
Dove felt Lily nod slowly. “I understand.”
“And still you will help me?”
“I will.”
“No one must know,” Dove said.
“What of the other Attendants?” Lily asked.
“Do you trust them completely?”
Lily hesitated, and into the silent pause the sounds of woman’s giggles drifted from the God’s balcony above, punctuated by deeper murmurs of male voices speaking intimately, coaxingly, teasingly.
“No,” Lily whispered sadly. “I do not trust them. They serve you, Mistress. They even like you. But all they can speak of is the City in the Trees and the new life awaiting us there.”
“And is that not what you want, too?”
“It was, until He took over our Champion.” Lily slid even closer to Dove and lowered her voice so that her Mistress had to strain to hear her. “I have watched him. He does not treat you with the respect His Oracle deserves, as Dead Eye treated you. And if He can treat you so roughly, what chance do any of the rest of us have?”
“Thank you, Lily.” Dove felt weak with relief.
“Where shall we go, Mistress?”
“Anywhere that is not ruled by Death.”
* * *
“Odysseus!” Thaddeus looked around, thoroughly annoyed. It was already dark. He’d found the perfect tree to spend the night in—it had a serviceable nest, one that hadn’t been discovered and packed with the sick or wounded. There were even blankets left on the sleeping pallet and they didn’t reek of smoke—or at least they didn’t reek too much of smoke. He’d rigged a rope sling and was ready to pull himself and Odysseus up for the first decent night’s sleep they’d had since that Scratcher bitch had caused the forest fire—and somehow he’d lost Odysseus. Again.
Thaddeus put his hands on his hips, whistled sharply, and focused his mind on calling the Terrier to him.
He felt Odysseus then and with a small jolt of surprise realized just how weak his connection to his Companion had become. Thaddeus began searching around the base of the tree in earnest, sending more energy to their bond.
He heard the whimper before he saw the canine. Lifting the torch he was holding, Thaddeus moved toward the sound. Finally, Odysseus’s eyes caught the torch’s firelight.
“There you are!” Thaddeus hurried to the Terrier. “What are you doing over here in the dark? I thought you were right behind me. Come on. I found a habitable nest. Let’s get up to it before some do-gooder decides to pack it with people.” Thaddeus slapped his thigh, expecting Odysseus to trot up to him, as usual. But the little Terrier only whined again and turned his head, trying to lick at the stained bandage wrapped around his flank.
“Yeah, I know it’s sore. But if you don’t use it, it’ll never get better. Come on, Odysseus!” he commanded.
With a pain-filled yelp, the Terrier staggered forward, dragging his wounded leg.
Thaddeus sighed. “Oh, okay. I’ll carry you, but only this once.” He went to Odysseus, carefully picking him up—and noticed instantly how warm the Terrier felt. “Hey, I think you might be worse. How about some water?” He carried Odysseus back to the base of the tree, where he’d placed a pack filled with food and a water bladder. Thaddeus put Odysseus down, then poured water into his cupped hand, offering it to the canine.
Odysseus lapped a little of the water before turning his head away.
“Hey, you’re going to have to do better than that, but it can wait until we’re up there, snugly in bed.” Working efficiently, Thaddeus slung the pack over his shoulder, placed the torch in a holding spot built into the tree, and then picked up Odysseus, who felt limp and hot in his arms.
Thaddeus tried not to worry. Instead, he focused on putting one hand over the other as he used the pulley system he’d rigged to lift himself and Odysseus up to the welcoming, familiar, arms of a giant pine.
Then Thaddeus set about lighting a small hearth fire and heating up the rabbit stew he’d confiscated from one of the two remaining warrens while Odysseus lay silently at the end of the pallet.
“Hey, buddy! Food’s ready!” Thaddeus called to Odysseus, but the Terrier barely raised his head before closing his eyes, tucking his nose, and going back to sleep. “Are you sure? I’m gonna eat yours if you don’t wake your butt up.”
This time Odysseus didn’t even stir.
Thaddeus frowned at his Companion as he ate his way through the stew. Odysseus was definitely not himself. “Because of that bitch. All of this is because of that bitch,” Thaddeus muttered softly. It really pissed him off. Odysseus was always at his side. Always listening to him. Always in agreement with his Companion. And now what was he? Tired … hurt … miserable. “All because of Mari.” Thaddeus spoke the name as if it tasted bitter. “Well, I’m not going to let her get away with it. She needs to be stopped, and Nik needs to pay for being a traitor.”
Odysseus’s eyes slitted open and the Terrier sighed heavily, in agreement with his Companion.
“That’s right!” Thaddeus bent forward, gently ruffling the dark fur around the Terrier’s ears. “We’re not going to let either of them get away with it.”
Thaddeus leaned back, chewing his stew contemplatively. But how do I stop someone who can call down sunfire?
You can have more. You deserve more. All you need is power …
Unbidden, the words drifted through Thaddeus’s mind. He’d had the same thoughts earlier, when he’d confronted that arrogant asshole Wilkes.
Of course he needed more power—enough to defeat sunfire. But how? How?
“I’d give anything to get rid of Mari and Nik.” Thaddeus ground the words between clenched teeth as he watched his Odysseus sleep fitfully. “Anything…”