The Forgotten Gods, page 7
part #25 of The Network Series Series
Ava yawned when I showed her the broach—she oohed over it—and then I tucked it aside. Perhaps there’d be a reason to wear it at some point.
Heat sweltered outside despite the early morning light, and the air felt like a wrung-out rag. With god magic, I conjured two sweating glasses of ice-cold water. One hovered near Ava. She eyed it, then me, and accepted with a nod. After drinking until the cool water slaked my thirst, I set it aside.
“Ava,” I drawled. “Can you tell me why Gio brought a dinghy to you yesterday? Who would hurt you?”
“Monilay mal.”
“But a demigod could easily overcome a dinghy.”
“Not if I leave.”
“Before they come, you mean?”
Ava swished her water around her cup with a frown, then nodded. The pinch of her lips told me I wouldn’t get much more out of her. My uneasy intuition meant there was likely more to it. Nuance I might not understand as an Alkarran, perhaps. Ava’s collection was at least far enough away that I couldn’t see it on the horizon. Though I had no experience on the ocean, I imagined it would be hours by boat, at the very closest.
“Gio,” she said slowly, wrapping her lips around the world. “He is . . . he is a . . . he is amicala. A . . . ah . . . witness? No. A mortal who knows . . . things.”
The last word rolled off her lips with an uncomfortable grimace. She sucked on her teeth. In the gesture, I saw a world of uncertainty.
Guilt.
What had he said to her?
“Is it good that Gio is amicala?” I asked.
Ava chewed on that question, clearly attempting to line up what Alkarran words she knew. She had been stumbling between languages for months now. Her progress had been impressive, but frustrating.
A whisper preceded a swirl of cinders that Ava didn’t appear to notice. Visible only to me, perhaps? They disappeared as quickly as they came. In their wake, Ignis spoke.
Together, we can do anything.
The reminder sent a thrill of god magic energy through my veins. It swirled back to life, brightened by Ignis’ presence.
Intent, he murmured. Everything in god magic is built around true desire and intention. God magic, when you control it by trust and experience, has no end to its power. You may converse in Alaysian as easily as you wish, only will it to be so.
I pulled in a breath. What did I have to lose from an attempt to execute god magic? Nothing.
Hadn’t I come here for this purpose?
Without responding to him, I turned my focus to Ava. On how much easier her life would be with a better understanding of the Alkarran language. Conversation flowing between us. Deep discussions, should I need them. An utter lack of fear or stress around communication.
Heat issued, escaping me in a swirl out of my skin.
“Gio is an amicala,” Ava said, oblivious to my internal force. “So he’s a friend to us. We need friends here if we’re going to stay safe, especially you.”
I blinked.
Had she just—
Her eyes snapped wide open. A hand flew to her throat. She turned to me, eyes ringed in white.
“Can I speak in Alkarran?” she squeaked.
I grinned. “Sounds like it!”
Again, Ignis murmured, I remind you that together, we can do anything.
I scowled at the embers, though I didn’t know why I should be upset with him. He’d significantly made my life here easier with this single use of god magic. Ava as well. The cinders streamed in through one window and out the next in a reddish flow.
Alarm filled her voice. “What happened?” she asked.
“I’m sorry,” I cried. “I didn’t mean to use god magic on you without permission, it just . . . it happened. I’m still not really sure about the line between intent and action. Like Gio, I wanted you to be able to speak.”
No confused stare or request to slow my speech down came. Ava blinked, expression rendered totally blank.
“Ava?”
She nodded absently, then rubbed a hand over her throat. Her stomach growled audibly, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Does it hurt?” I whispered.
“No.”
“Do you want me to try to take it back?”
She shook her head more sharply. “No. I . . . I need to get used to it.”
“Are you upset?”
Her brow furrowed. “No, this will be easier. So much easier. It’s . . . strange. I’m not used to you using the same magic that—”
She broke off. Her troubled gaze didn’t quite meet mine. She stiffened when I sat next to her, then relaxed.
“I’m sorry, Ava. I need to learn how to control and use the god magic, I suppose, if I’m going to be here. I’m trying. It's just . . . it is strange.”
“Thank you.” Her fingers fidgeted with her skirt. “I’m happy. It’s a good gift.”
Silence thickened the air between us, without burden this time. Relief that she’d forgiven me made me weak.
“Can we trust Gio?” I ventured tentatively.
“Yes. Yesterday, he said that we must take care of each other, and I told him I wanted to go back to my collection of islands to check on my birds. Some of them might have gotten away before Bram set the hedges on fire. They might be looking for me. He brought a dinghy for me to use and . . . to keep me safe in case a demigod comes. That’s all.”
Full, confident sentences from Ava took a little getting used to, but she was right—speaking so simply would be much better, even at the mental cost of doing magic to her. Her animosity for Alaysia, at times outright hostility, led me to think of Baxter. What if her agitation was poorly-concealed eagerness to get somewhere else?
Namely, to her birds.
“Is there any mortal in your collection that you want to see?”
“Daemon. He was my . . . friend? Maybe. I don’t know. He talked to Tama and no one talked to Tama. I want to go see him. We could go in the boat, since Gio brought it.”
Getting off of this island held great appeal, if only to help me understand Alaysia, Ava, and Baxter better. Not to mention get more information on the watery world that threatened Alkarra. I needed all the facts I could find.
Desperation called through her eyes. With both of her parents dead, Daemon might be her only connection to her old life. How well I understood the need to see, experience, and taste those memories one last time.
Then, they could be shelved away for good.
“Sure,” I said with a shrug. “Baxter will return this evening, and Ventis hasn’t given us a firm time to meet with him yet, so let’s go!”
Ava brightened. “Really?”
“Really. Where is your collection?”
Her gaiety soured. “A couple of hours row from here.”
“That’s fine.”
“Truly?” She cut me a suspicious glance. “Can you take us with magic?”
A welling of anxiety rose within me at the question. Transportation spells required knowledge of where one transported in order to arrive safely. Certainly, some witches circumvented that—like Papa, for example—and we knew that transportation magic worked here, but I couldn’t feel comfortable with attempting to take two of us somewhere unknown. It wouldn’t be safe for so many reasons.
What if I harmed both of us? Became lost, confused?
Landed right back in Prana’s domain?
The rules and edges of life blurred in Alaysia. What belonged to the gods, and what belonged to Prana? Not knowing the boundaries led me to caution, particularly with magical use.
“It is dangerous and far,” Ava continued in a murmur, as if speaking to herself. She tilted her head back, hand lifted up. “The weather is good. We don’t have to worry about storms.”
“Do you know how to navigate there?”
“Enough.”
My eyes widened. “Enough? What does that mean?”
She grinned. “We have ways, Bianca. Can you trust me?”
I softened, further set at ease by how easy our conversation had become. “Of course.”
“Baxter told you not to go anywhere in his note.”
I shrugged. “We’ll just god magic back if we need to. You’re worth the chance. Besides, it’s not that far from the Rostina if we can row, and he won’t be back for several hours, anyway. I’d love to try goddess magic in the dinghy, just to make sure it works there, too.”
Ava softened. “Daemon is . . . not always a very safe mortal. He hates the demigods very much, so Shara put him in our small collection, away from everyone.”
“Shara didn’t just kill him?”
She shrugged.
I gestured out to the sea, eager to see more of this world. “Let’s get started. Sounds like we have an adventure ahead of us.”
Sea water slapped the hull of the boat.
The moment we launched from the shore, Ava’s face had become the picture of concentration. Her brows pulled together, forming tight angles around her sloping forehead. Her lips pressed shut, as if she was determined not to speak. Sunlight burst from the sky, a brilliant promise of another beautiful day.
The muscles in my arms pulled taut as I leaned back on the oar. Ava fell into rowing like a natural, her legs pressed forward, body tight as she heaved back. A bundle of something smelly rolled in between our feet below the board where we sat, which stretched across the boat. Blood-tinged and stained brown, I could only assume it was dead fish.
After a few minutes, we’d created a rhythm. The physical release was a welcome reprieve for the impatient goddess magic in my body.
“Can I use god magic to get us there faster?” I asked.
She shrugged. Uncertainty showed in the ruffles of her forehead now. Her teeth worried her bottom lip as she gazed around, already seeming lost.
“And you know where to go?” I asked.
Ava hesitated, then shook her head.
“No?” I screeched.
“Well, maybe,” she said firmly.
I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again. Despite her uncertainty, she seemed determined to continue. We fell back into silence. The unease of heading into an endless vista of water crept over me. Comforted by the truth that I had two magicks at my disposal to get us out of any trouble and no amulets to wreak havoc out here, I pressed on.
Ava cracked the gentle quiet.
“The mermaids will take us to my collection.” She released her oar and rubbed her palms on her skirt. The oar jerked around a bit before she grabbed it again. Water splashed on my cheek as an unhappy wave shuffled by, scooping water into the bottom of the dinghy.
“We’re going to the mermaids?”
Ava nodded.
I had a feeling, based on Ava’s growing consternation, that we were about to approach said mermaids.
Ava pulled the oar out of the water, then indicated I should do the same with mine. For several seconds, we rocked in the middle of the sea. I twisted back, attempting to find the Rostina. It loomed in the distance, now a vague speck. Being this far out in the sea, surrounded only by water, made my stomach tilt.
I suppressed a shudder, recalling Prana’s violent wake up call only a day ago. The cold clutches of her deep water were a nasty reminder of the sea goddess’ power. A splash and a flash of brilliant color drew my gaze to the front of the dinghy. Ava tensed, but kept her hands on the oar. Her gaze remained straight ahead.
“We are not afraid,” Ava murmured. “You cannot be afraid.”
You cannot be afraid.
As if such a statement didn’t make the mermaids even more terrifying.
I ignored the building tension in the air and drew in a steady, slow breath. Not afraid, indeed. My heart calmed as the glinting color closed in.
Reddish brown, perhaps?
Hints of electric orange existed in the kaleidoscope of disappearing colors, lost to the deep sea.
“Say nothing,” Ava murmured.
I tightened my hold on the oar. No problem there.
A face appeared in the water ahead of the boat, then vanished. The unexpected sight made a fist out of my stomach. Jikes, but these mermaids knew how to stall. Ava reached down, fiddling with the canvas netting on the outside of the package Gio left.
The face appeared again, on my side this time. Drawn to the movement, I glanced over.
Through the water, hints of light pink came into view. Like a blush of strawberries in wavering water. Flaxen hair spiraled around a mostly-human face, billowing through the sea. The mermaid stared at me. The eyes were strange to peer into. The irises matched their skin, only a darker hue of pink. Two closed slits sat where a nose would be on a witch or mortal.
Below the mermaid, graceful arms and a full chest disappeared into darker scales and deeper water. Yellowish-pink scales glittered along their shoulders and down the trunk, all the way to a glimmering fin that appeared in snatches. It would be at least as tall as me, though the body structure seemed delicate, like a bird. A hint of a translucent, webbed fin whipped back and forth.
In a word, they were exquisite.
An equally curious stare narrowed on me. I returned the look. If god magic could allow Ava to speak the common Alkarran language, could it help me communicate with mermaids?
The mermaid departed.
Ava peered over her side, where the mermaid swam close to the top of the water. This time, the mermaid bared sharp incisor fangs.
“Jikes,” I muttered.
The mermaid didn’t break the surface, but only barely. Ava ignored the apparent hostility. Sometime in my study of the mermaid, Ava had opened up the package that Gio left. A rancid odor turned my stomach.
The pert almost-nose breached the top, opened the two slits, drew in air, then retreated as the slits closed. Eyes dilated, turning near-black.
Ava locked in a stare with the mermaid. She straightened, reached into the slimy pile of fish guts, and paused.
The mermaid snarled impatiently.
Ava dangled the fish guts in the air, visible from where the mermaid darted back and forth. The mermaid curled her upper lip in a motion like a hissing cat and faded into the dark sea.
Ava let out a long breath, dropped the fish guts, and reached for her oar. She gripped it, slimy guts notwithstanding. I scrambled to do the same. The sickly smell emanated from her hand, but I had a feeling Ava didn’t want to clean her hand in the water with the mermaid hovering close.
“Mermaids communicate through thoughts,” Ava murmured. “Images. They put them into your mind. This mermaid said that they will take us to my collection in exchange for more of the food.”
“That’s good?”
She nodded once.
Ava threw a coiled rope into the water. The line dropped out of sight, apparently attached somewhere in the front. We remained slack on the ocean for a few moments before the boat gave a violent jerk. I grabbed the side with one hand, the oar with the other, and barely kept from tumbling into the ocean.
Ava shook her head with an annoyed mutter at the less-than-gentle start, but seemed far less tense as we cut through the splashing waves. The sun crept higher in the distance, spilling yellow diamonds onto the surface of the water as it illuminated the world.
The dinghy cut through the waves, moving faster than we could have ever rowed, and toward a new, unknown place.
CHAPTER 8
We cut through sapphire water while the sun bore down in gentle persuasion, drying the occasional splash from cresting waves. The heat burned my skin as the sun climbed higher in a perfect sky.
The mermaid held an impressive speed for such a lithe figure. Ornery waves smoothed out into azure ribbons as we moved away from Ventis’ kingdom. I couldn’t help my admiration for the savage beauty of Prana’s world.
Terrifying as it might be.
Islands popped up here and there, hidden in the distance. None with a daunting Rostina. Once, Ava pointed out another dinghy. A mortal rowed it by themselves, near an island encompassed in a glance.
When we slowed, a smudge on the horizon indicated a fire ahead. Ava’s grip on the oar tightened as the dinghy shuddered to a stop. Silence baked around us. We rocked up and down in the waves. Ava grabbed the stinky chum and threw the whole thing overboard. It splattered with a giant plop.
“Don’t look,” she said quickly. “There are too many mermaids.”
Curiosity almost drove me to peek into the clear waters, but considering the size of that mermaid’s incisors, I decided against it.
My gaze trained on the horizon as Ava gripped her oar and began to row. Splashing, and an occasional, distant shriek, issued from behind. Mermaids, undoubtedly, feasting. I shuddered, grateful to leave them behind.
Within a few turns, Ava and I synced our strokes. She held up a hand for me to pause, then she dug harder into the water on her side, to turn the dingy.
We started toward an almost-barren horizon, except for the smoke. Ava directed us as we rowed. Nothing but endless water and sky could be seen. We were far from amulets, demigods, mortals, and soon from the mermaids, but even farther from Alkarra.
My stomach growled against the fresh exertion, but the pull of muscle and sinew took my mind away from worries over mermaids. Water churned into white caps and deep troughs. No wind agitated the sea, but something else seemed to.
Ava’s solemn mood hovered over the small boat as an island came into view. My arms ached. My thirst intensified. Ava licked her lips again, but still wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Thirsty?” I asked.
She hesitated, then nodded. I used god magic to hand her a leather pouch of water, which she quickly drank. One appeared for me, the water cool and slightly sweet. It refilled as I drank, and I felt grateful for the simplicity of it.
With another thought, I sent the pouch back to the beach house. The simple commands gave me confidence with a magic I hadn’t used all that frequently. Now, with Ignis’ reminder from earlier ringing in my mind, I didn’t want to stop using it.
Ava had paused our rowing, whether for a break or hesitation, I couldn’t tell. She squinted at me. With a wave of her hand toward my face, she said, “Change your eyes and your hair.” She touched the corner of her eye with her finger. “Like mine. You need to look like a mortal.”
