He closes his eyes, as if it will take all his willpower to make this decision. Finally, he says, “I promise. You can trust me in this.”
I kiss him, wrap my arms around his neck, and cling to him, try to remember how it feels to have his lips on mine. In case it never happens again.
“Rasmira!”
I know that voice better than any other.
I pull away from Soren, and a happy cry leaves my throat. “Irrenia!”
Her dainty arms go around me, and I lean into her.
“I thought you were dead,” she says, following the words with a sniffle.
“I almost died a few times, but I remembered my promise to you.”
She squeezes me until I can’t breathe, and I wonder how someone so small can manage it.
“It would seem you’ve done well for yourself in the wild.” Her head rises off my shoulder, and I know she must be looking at Soren. “Very well.”
Despite everything that may or may not happen in the next hour, I laugh. Just once, but it is enough to lighten the moment.
“Quit hogging her.” Another pair of arms comes around me. Tormosa’s. They’re quickly followed by Salvanya’s, Alara’s, and Ashari’s, until I can’t tell where one sister ends and another begins.
A throat clears. My sisters pull back, and my father steps in front of me.
His hand comes down on my shoulder. “What you are doing is very noble, Rasmira. Death at the hands of your mattugr will open the goddess’s paradise to you once more. We will see you again when our times come. This public display is an excellent idea. It will show others that my daughter is no failure.”
For so long, all I wanted was to make my father proud. But in all the time I tried to earn his respect, I realize now that he never once earned mine.
“I am not doing this for you or your image, Father. For once, I’m doing something for me. And I don’t intend to die today. I’m going to expose Peruxolo for what he really is. I neither want nor need anything from either of you.” Mother’s stepped up next to Father. “You turned your backs on me, and I won’t forget it. I won’t let your decisions rule my life any longer. I’ll see you both when this is over.”
I turn away, desperate for some distance. I don’t make it ten feet before a hand clamps down on my arm.
I whirl to find my mother standing before me. I think to pull from her grasp, but then I really look at her.
I almost don’t recognize her. She’s a shadow of her former self: frail, her eyes somehow duller, her cheeks hollow, her skin ashy, her limbs heavy, her hair without its usual shine. She looks helpless, distraught, as if something inside of her is eating her alive.
She looks broken.
“Rasmira,” she says, and even her tone has lost the hateful force it usually contains when speaking to me. “I’m so relieved you’re safe!” She throws herself at me, resting her head on my shoulder and letting her hands stroke my hair. I don’t return the embrace; I’m too shocked.
And then, in my ear, where no one else can hear: “I know it’s too much to ask for forgiveness, so I won’t dishonor myself by asking. I don’t deserve it. Rexasena has already started to punish me for my crimes, and I know she will continue when this mortal frame passes into the next life. But, you must know how devastated I am by what I did. I regretted it the second you disappeared into the wild. I’ve been so horrible to you, and it wasn’t until I let my own flesh and blood meet death that I realized what I’ve become.” She pulls back, rests her hands on my shoulders. “I will try to stop this. I will tell your father everything. You don’t need to go into battle. You can’t.”
And then she’s pulling away from me, waiting before interrupting the conversation Soren and my father are having.
I don’t know what is happening. Did the moon rise this morning instead of the sun? Have fish grown legs and crawled on land? Where is my mother and who has replaced her?
I was gone … over three months. Could my beautiful, horrible mother really change in that time? I don’t trust it. Not one bit. She’s going to have to do more than cry on my shoulder. But she’s offering to make everything right—to tell my father the truth.
“Wait!” I say, forcing her back to me. “Mother, you can’t. I need to carry on with this fight.”
“No, you never should have been issued a mattugr. I saw that boy sabotage your test. I’m going to fix it, Rasmira. I swear it.”
“Don’t, please. I’m asking you to wait.”
Her already frail body seems to shrink further. “Why?”
“Because I am ready to face the god. He has been a plague upon our people, and I believe I can end it all. Today. No more Payments. No more worrying about the god who lurks in the wild. No more starving children.”
“But—”
“If you truly regret what you’ve done and wish to make things right with me, you will abide by my wishes.”
She licks her cracked lips. “I do, and I will.”
“Good. Now please, I need some distance from you.”
“Whatever you need.” She disappears behind my father’s shoulder.
By the goddess, what was that?
My heart is throbbing within my chest, and my mind is turning over the conversation again and again.
“Are you all right?” Irrenia asks.
“How long has she been like this?” I ask, pointing to Mother.
“It started just after you left. She won’t take any of the treatments I try to give her.”
I can’t deal with this. Not now. Not when so much is riding on today. Not when I keep wondering if I’ve made the right choice.
Should I have let her tell Father the truth and call the whole thing off?
No.
The word is absolute, leaving no room to question it. I’ve challenged the god. There is no taking that back. Regardless of whether my mattugr is lifted or not, he knows I’m alive now. He will look for me, might even punish my village for my challenge if he learns where I’m from. I have to see this through.
I start toward the center of the clearing. It’s dawn. Peruxolo should be here already. But just like he does with the village leaders during the Payment, he is making me wait.
Soren follows after me silently. There is nothing more to be said until this is done. Iric falls into step with us, leaving Aros to stand with his parents.
We stop in the center of the clearing, in the grooves of the road. For something to do, I windmill my arms, letting the muscles loosen. I walk in place, stretch my legs, prepare my body for what is to come. Soren and Iric stand by my sides, waiting with me.
The sun inches higher in the sky, and still Peruxolo doesn’t show.
I send a prayer to the goddess, begging her for guidance and strength. What will I do if the low god doesn’t show? How am I to return home and make things right if I can’t do the task that was set for me? If he comes for me and my family in the night?
After another ten minutes go by, I realize I needn’t have worried.
He appears in the trees, just as he did over three months ago. He steps off a branch and hovers in the air, cape swaying behind him, hood raised.
Terrifying, as always.
But as I watch him, watch how he appears to stand in the air, as though an invisible wall holds him up—I remember the piece of metal I saw in his forge. The one I thought appeared to be the length of a man’s foot.
It was.
Exactly the length of this god’s foot, in fact.
Peruxolo has lodestones in the base of each boot. He must have iron buried in the ground right there. He climbs the tree and appears to float because of the negative reaction between the metals. Oh, so clever.
Soren gives my shoulder a squeeze, and then I hear him and Iric retreat, leaving me to my task.
“I’ve been challenged,” Peruxolo says in that cutting, dangerous tone he uses. The voice that makes us tremble; the voice we feel in our bones.
Except, now that I don’t fear him as I once did, I don’t really feel his voice in my bones. That was just my imagination, something born of raw fear.
“You have,” I snap. “And you’re late.”
Gasps sound all around me. No one is short with the god. No one dares ever speak to him in such a way.
I dare.