Chapter 3.12 – Three Departures

 Life is transition. We’re always moving from the end of one thing to the beginning of another. Now that I’d met with Queen Treya, I knew my memory had not betrayed me. Treya was special, and I had been lucky to know her, even if tragedy was the reason for our bond.

This was the Treya I remembered. The Treya I had come to love over the weeks she was under my care. This was a Treya that was worthy of serving and protecting. I was glad to find this true, for so often, memory betrays us. This is just as true for reborn as it is for humans.

                                                                                           Excerpt from the Journal of the Emisssary

Sixth Day of Striving 1142, Early Afternoon

King Leonid walked into the general store. No one knew who he was, but everyone recognized his colors, and the livery of the guards accompanying him. In an actual city, Leonid’s presence would have created a stir, but the effect with lost since only three people were present.

The owner of the establishment, at least Leonid assumed he was the owner, came over to him, an overweight bald man, with a ridiculously large beard and eyes so bloodshot you almost couldn’t tell they were hazel. He cleared his throat as if nervous and spoke.

“Greetings, m’lord. My name is Gregor, and I’m the owner of this fine establishment.”

Leonid, somehow, managed not to choke at the word fine. “You will address me as your highness.”

“Begging your pardon, your highness. I had no idea. Would I be talking to King Leonid himself? An honor, your highness, an absolutely honor.”

Leonid, mollified by the man’s seemingly sincere respect, asked him to send word to the Lord Mayor to join him in town.

“At once, you’re highness.”

The man move away faster than his bulk and age would suggest he could move. Leonid nodded approvingly. Finally, someone who respected him. Perhaps he would buy something to show his support.

He looked around the shop briefly, realized there was nothing here of a high enough quality to own and rejected the idea. So he walked back outside and looked around.

A woman approached, perhaps twenty-five years of age, long light brown hair. She was extremely attractive, had an athletic body, and was dressed as a traveler. Leonid hadn’t been with anyone except Rhea since he’d left for Rish and he wasn’t used to that long a drought. He didn’t look at the woman as a person, but rather as a potential conquest.

She walked right up to him. “King Leonid, well met. I’m sorry it took so long to reach you, but this place is well off the beaten path.”

Leonid looked at her. “You came here to meet me?”

She studied him. He wondered what she saw. “Of course. My goddess sent me to keep an eye on you, as agreed.”

Leonid started to speak and his mouth fell open. Of course, the Sarithan assassin sent to replace Jerish. This woman was going to be his protector and eventually, his executioner. Would she be open to something more? He thought about it. Probably not. Probably not even worth risking finding out. Oh well. It was a nice idea while it lasted.

She was waiting for him to say something, and he was, for once, at a loss. She really was beautiful. He half suspected Sarith had sent this particular assassin as a form of slow torture. That would be just like her. Finally, just to hold her attention, he asked the only question he could think of.

“What should I call you?”

“You choose. I have no interested in sharing my real name.”

Leonid raised an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to me?”

“King Leonid, you are a womanizer. You are a despot. You’re precisely the kind of man I was raised to despise. I’ll protect you, because I hate you less than I fear my goddess, but probably not by much. And when, in the end, I am called upon to…” She stopped to look at the guards behind him, close enough to hear her, “perform the task previously agreed to, I shall take great pleasure in it.”

“Bitch,” muttered Leonid under his breath.

“Perfect. You can call me Bitch. I promise to live up to the title.”

Leonid glared at her. “I can hardly introduce you to my court as Bitch. Perhaps something more suitable, like Petunia.”

It was the assassin’s turn to glare. Leonid had to admit she was very good at it. “As you will, King Leonid. But I’ll make sure the other name is never far from your mind, I assure you.”

Leonid grew pale. This wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d expected someone like Jerish. A co-conspirator instead of a detractor. He’d have said more, but at that moment, the Lord Mayor approached at a run. Leonid turned to watch, happy to have a distraction from the dangerous beauty that was about to become his constant companion. Lord Gribble was not as attractive. He was a small man, almost as wide as he was tall. He should be rolling, not running, thought Leonid. His tiny legs had to take three times as many steps as an actual man, and he looked comical. Leonid smiled at the thought, before he caught sight of the assassin watching him, an expression of distaste on her almost perfect features.

Lord Gribble’s face was smooth, belying his advanced years. He still had a head full of white hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a brush in a decade. His eyebrows were only barely visible against his pale skin, but his mustache extended so far, if it weren’t waxed he might have tripped over it. A comical man that, if it weren’t for the quality of the wine he produced, wouldn’t demand a single ounce of respect.

“Your, Majesty.”

Gribble bowed so low, Leonid thought he might teeter over. It was honestly impressive than he hadn’t.

“Lord Gribble. I find myself in need of transport to Trilsk.”

“Of course, your Majesty. Whatever you need. You can take my personal carriage, and my driver as well. I don’t use it as much as I once did I’m afraid. I’m always so busy.”

“My daughter is here too, with some…friends. One of them is a rather large bear. I would need them delivered to the palace at Trilsk as well.”

“A bear, your Majesty?”

“Yes, a bear. Also so big cube thing, and a brethren.”

“A brethren!”

Leonid grinned as the expression on Gribble’s face paled.

“Don’t worry, Gribble, she won’t hurt you. She serves my daughter. They all do. Oh, they have a were-owl with them as well.”

“A were-owl!”

“Yes, do take care of them. I would not enjoy seeing my daughter harmed. They’re in town now. Shouldn’t be too hard to find them I would imagine.”

“Of course, you’re highness. I’ll prepare everything right away. And I’ll include a case of my finest wine for you, free of charge, of course.”

“Of course.”

Gribble bowed again, then hurried off down the street. Leonoid watched him go.

“That was fun.”

“I don’t understand,” said Petunia, “why they treat you with such respect.”

“Because I’m they’re king, and have power over them. Somehow, I thought you’d be smarter. I assume you’re skilled enough to pace the cart without riding inside.”

“Of course, your highness. I had expected to run beside the cart.”

“You did?”

“Yes, your highness. I didn’t see anyway I could fit inside a carriage of any size. You and your ego wouldn’t leave me much room, after all.”

Leonid scowled. “Don’t talk like that to me in front of others. We have roles to maintain.”

“Agreed. I’ll behave myself in public. But when we’re alone, I’ll make you pay for every minute I have to pretend to be your servant.”

“You are my servant. My bodyguard.”

“That’s not true. I’m Sarith’s servant, and she gave me orders regarding you. I am serving the goddess. I am guarding you. I understand you are important to her plans and, as I don’t know those plans, I can’t gainsay them, but make no mistake. The harder you make my life, the harder I make yours. Are we clear?”

Leonid studied her. “I believe we are. You might think your reaction bothers me, but I find it refreshing.”

“You do?”

“Do you think I’m not aware that people don’t like me? That they consider me a joke, if a dangerous one? I assure you, I know what people think.”

For the first time, his new guard looked genuinely curious. “Then why do you act the way you do?”

“Because I need them to think that way about me. Your goddess would understand. Perhaps you should ask her about it.”

Petunia looked thoughtful but didn’t answer. Satisfied, Leonid turned away and walked toward the center of town, which, given the size of the town, was only a few steps away. The faster he left this forsaken hole, the happier he’d be.

*

“I can’t believe we’re eating at a tavern that doesn’t serve beer. We should have boycotted,” said Sam.

Chari chuckled. “It’s the only place in town that serves food, and I’m tired of what we’ve been eating. The change of pace elevates this to fine dining.”

Kalutu looked up from his food, which he’d only recently found out he didn’t need, though he still enjoyed eating. “Wait, can you repeat that?”

“Because I’ve been eating the same thing, over and over again, or at least variations on it, I got bored with it. Eating here tastes better because it’s different.”

“Ah. I haven’t been eating, because I don’t need to, and our resources were limited. Still, I’m surprised that food changes taste depending on what you’ve consumed recently. What causes that to happen?”

Sam chimed in. “Kalutu the food doesn’t actually change taste. It’s your perception that makes it taste better. Like when you’re hungry, food often tastes better.”

“Not to me. Food always tastes the way it tastes to me. You’re all weird.”

Xephyr looked thoughtful. “I think food tastes the way it’s meant to taste, but this is how brethren are trained. When I eat something, I taste it for the first time, every time I taste it. Ideally, every bite of the meal should be treated the same way. My assumptions about what a food is going to taste like prevent me from actually experiencing the food.”

“Wait,” said Chari. “Are you suggesting that if I approached trail rations this way I might enjoy them more?”

“Maybe,” replied Xephyr. “What you wouldn’t do is grow tired of it, or complacent about its flavor. Tasting each bite as a unique experience makes it a unique experience.”

She was about to continue, when an odd looking man walked up to them.

He was short, overweight and whatever else Chari might have noticed about him was lost the moment her eyes fell on his mustache. It reminded her so much of the antenna of bark beetles she used to catch as a child that she had to stifle a laugh. She couldn’t stop looking at him. She could almost believe he was the embodiment of those beetles. She raised a hand to her face to conceal her reaction.

“Princess Chari, I presume.”

“I am. And who might you be?”

He bowed deeply. “I am Lord Mayor Gribble, and I am at your service.”

“Ah, good. My father sent you?”

“He did indeed. I understand you and your…companions, need passage to Trilsk. Your father is going by my personal carriage, but he suggested that you might need other accommodation.”

Chari nodded, all thoughts of her previous mirth forgotten. “Yes, we’re traveling with a rather unusual group of familiars.”

“So you have a lot of mages with you?”

“Actually, we have no mages.”

Gribble looked confused. “But you said you have famliars.”

“The familiars are mine, but I am no mage,” said Kalutu.

Gribble turned his attention to Kalutu and studied him. “You must be the were owl. I have to say, I’ve never met a lycanthrope before. Fascinating.”

“I understand not many have. And even fewer would have met one of my type. I’m most likely unique on this world.”

“On this world?”

“Forget it,” cut in Chari. “More importantly, what kind of help can you offer?”

“It might help if I could see your companions, so I have an idea of exactly what I’m dealing with.”

Chari was about to respond when she felt momentarily dizzy before Dahr’s voice spoke in her mind.

Hi, Chari. Been a while.

Chari held up a hand to stop pause the converation. Dahr?

She sent the thought telepathically. She wasn’t sure it would reach him, but it couldn’t hurt to try. She didn’t relish trying to explain what was going on to Gribble.

I think we should talk before we meet up.

Chari nodded, then realized Dahr couldn’t see her. Probably a good idea to catch up. Where’s Eric?

That’s a more complex question than you probably think it is.

Alarmed, Chari raised an eyebrow. And what, exactly, does that mean?

Eric’s body is with me. Eric’s soul is…elsewhere.

I don’t understand.

Eric is soul traveling at the moment.

He’s taken Veresh?

Chari got the distinct impression that Dahr was getting at something she didn’t want to hear. She gripped the edge of the table and squeezed, careful not to trigger her amazing strength skill. Last thing she needed to do was break someone else’s property. She needed to control her reactions.

No. Eric stopped taking his meds. As far as I can tell, when he’s dreaming he ends up in another world. The problem is, since he arrived in the Plains of Xarinos, he can’t get back to his body.

Chari, for once, had trouble finding words to express how she felt. Eric was on the Plains of Xarinos? No, Eric’s body was with Dahr. So Eric’s soul was the on the plain without a body?

Dahr, you have ten seconds to make me understand.

She had no idea what she would do if Dahr ran out that time, as there was nothing she could do to compel him to speak from this distance. She realized she was depending on the strength of her character as an implied threat, which was stupid, considering who she was speaking with. But Dahr didn’t seem perturbed.

Chari, when Eric sleeps, his soul moves into someone else’s body. A body that had been in another world and is now on the Plains of Xarinos.

Chari tried to digest this. How the hell did the body get to Xarinos?

I don’t know. I suppose I could ask.

You could ask who?

Eric, of course.

You just said he was in the Plains of Xarinos.

I did.

Chari released a long breath. Dahr, even the gods can’t see into Xarinos.

I know. It’s cool, right?

Dahr!

Dahr laughed. Okay, okay. Yes, I can contact Eric in the plains, but how he got there isn’t really important. We can ask him when we get there. Just get to Trilsk. I’ll be leaving the Brotherhood soon.

The Brotherhood!

It’s okay, I’m perfectly safe.

I wasn’t really worried about your safety of all things. It’s just that I have a brethren with me.

You do? How did that happen?

It’s a long story. Just get here, we can catch up in person. How long do you think you’ll be?

At least a few days. I’ll be bringing a few reborn with me. And a pack of kreve.

Chari shook her head. Why am I not surprised. That has to be the most Dahr thing you’ve ever said.

Is it? Well it must be nice to be so predictable.

Chari chucked. Just hurry up and get here. I miss you.

That has to be the last Chari thing you’ve ever said.

Chari laughed and then grew serious. Dahr, is Eric going to be all right?

He’s fine, Chari. There’s nothing you need to worry about. We’ll talk when I get there. I just didn’t want to rock up with Eric’s body in the state it’s in and have to explain it at the time.

If there’s a change, you’ll let me know.

I will. I’ll see you soon.

 And Dahr was gone. Chari frowned and realized everyone was looking at her, but it was Sam who spoke.

“What was that about?”

“I’ll tell you later. Lord Mayor Gribble, come with us and I’ll introduce you to the madness that is the guild team Lost Wisdom.”

Gribble looked nervous but also excited. “I heard you have a bear. I’ve never seen one up close. What’s his name.”

“Bear,” said Sam.

“You have a bear named Bear? Why?”

“Because mages don’t always consider their famliar’s feelings. Say, Lord Mayor, have you ever heard of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Famliars?”

Lord Mayor Gribble looked confused. “No, should I have?”

“For outlawing beer in your jurisdiction? Absolutely.”

*

Dahr had told Striker to talk to Garrett to make sure he waited for them to leave. He probably could have gotten Garrett to listen to him, but why waste a power when Striker had a stronger connection with him. Garrett really liked her. The threads made it obvious.

With that task handled, he had to figure out what had happened to Gabby. He’s expected her here. Had expected her to be traveling with them. But she hasn’t showed, even though she had intended to. He wondered what was holding her up.

He located her thread easily, he was getting better at picking threads out quickly, and traced it back toward her cottage. As he approached, his awareness stopped as if it had hit a wall. Well, Gabby’s walls weren’t a problem for him anymore. He’d been practicing on them for a while now and knew he could breach any defense she was capable of raising. He was also fairly certain Gabby knew too, which is why he didn’t particularly feel bad about doing it. She trusted him and allowed him to practice.

But this time was different. The shield held firm. He tested it, looking for flaws, weaknesses, but almost immediately knew this shield was different. For one thing, it wasn’t Gabby’s. Whoever had raised this shield had a stronger, more disciplined mind. Frustrating.

Why would someone have raised a shield around Gabby’s cottage? The same reason she wasn’t there. Someone had prevented her from coming. Which meant that right now, there was someone, or perhaps multiple bethren inside her home. Dahr needed to hear what they were saying.

He glanced at Striker, who was engaged in an animated conversation with Garrett. Time to get to work. He sent Striker a telepathic message.

Keep him chatting, I need to try something and can’t be disturbed.

She didn’t reply, but Dahr knew she heard him. He sat down cross-legged and went into a meditative state almost immediately. That was getting easier too.

He had a two skills he hadn’t used yet. Nudge was likely a kind of manipulation skill, and Waking Dreams allowed him to dream while awake. He intuitively found he could slide into Waking Dreams, which seemed less like a skill and more like a natural talent. For that matter so did thread reading. His class wasn’t giving him skills, it was changing his natural abilities. He’d heard Eric talk about using Shield Bash. It was a skill he used. He got that talent from Sheba. This was different. These talents weren’t something driven by George’s power, but more something George had gifted to him, that he owned. George wasn’t asking him to channel, he was asking him to become.

Dahr thought about Gabby, pictured her cottage in his mind, remembered his time there then slipped into Waking Dreams almost without trying. He was inside then, just a dream, but somehow reality as well. He was seeing what was happening in real life in a dream, while he was awake.

Even with his eyes closed, he was still aware of Striker keeping Garrett entertained, even enthralled. She had powers not unlike his. George would love that.

He focused on the room and realized that Gabby had two visitors. He knew them immediately. They were the three Brethren that had met them on the mainland and had escorted Dahr and Eric to the ferry.

Gabby, of course, he’d spent the most time with. And there was Quant, the bald man who seemed to share a joke with the universe that only he understood. He had reprimanded Dahr for using is thread reading skills without permission. He didn’t seem to notice Dahr’s intrusion now, and Dahr was glad for it. He hadn’t liked being scolded by a stranger, and this was one way of getting back at him.

And then the third woman, ageless, auburn hair streaked with gray, silver eyes that didn’t look human. Gabby was reporting to her, Dahr realized. Explaining the situation. She knew he would be leaving and she was volunteering to go, as he knew she would. But the auburn haired lady already shaking her head.

“You’re too close to this Gabby. The boy already has too much of a hold on you. Can’t you feel it?”

“I admit I like him, and…” she trailed off. “What are you suggesting? Did he do something to me?”

“I don’t think so. He has an aura about him that makes him likeable. It influences people almost unconsciously. You want to like him. I want to like him too, but I haven’t spent as much time with him. You’d protect him with your life at this point.”

Gabby looked like she wanted to protest but choked it down.

“You can’t go with him, Gabby.”

“But someone needs to keep Eric’s body alive. You know that.”

“And are you the only one on the brethren capable of that feat? Are you even the best suited to the task? Why are you so anxious to go?”

“I can keep training him and learn more about his class.”

“Which is more important to you, I wonder. Training him, or furthering your knowledge.”

Gabby again didn’t answer. It was clear that this woman, whoever she was, was making her point understood.

Had she been right. Had Dahr been influencing her without knowing it. Was that part of his Nexus powers? He had no idea, and made a mental note to ask George about it.

“Quant will go. He’ll be less susceptible to Dahr’s aura, and he has more experience in healing than you do.”

Gabby nodded, glumly. “I understand.”

“This isn’t a punishment Gabby. This is for your benefit as well as ours.”

“Lady Fury, I don’t understand. You sent Zephyr off to serve Prince Eric and Dahr, and yet you seem not to trust Dahr at all.”

“Dahr is becoming something we don’t understand. Of course, I don’t trust him, which doesn’t mean I no longer follow the way. Zephyr’s destiny is bound to the princes. She needs to keep them safe. That’s her journey, not mine. My journey is to protect the brethren. It is why I am first among you.”

“I know, Lady Fury. Your gifts are truly remarkable. I will stay and learn and grow.”

That said, Lady Fury turned toward Quant. “Keep an eye on him and report back when you can.”

“I will, Lady Fury. But I still don’t understand my function. Do I aid him?”

Lady Fury chuckled. “That would depend entirely on what he ends up doing. His destiny is beyond even my ability to see.”

Quant looked surprised at this, and Gabby nodded as if she expected it. Dahr tried to parse what he’d heard. He wasn’t happy that Gabby wasn’t coming with him. Nor was he thrilled that Quant was the one Lady Fury had assigned to him. Still, there was little point in arguing. Quant was a better choice to keep Eric’s body alive and that was what really mattered.

As soon as the shield dropped, Dahr opened his eyes, followed Gabby’s thread to her and found Qaunt’s thread immediately. As soon as the connection was made, he spoke telepathically.

Take what you need and get to the docks, we’re leaving.

Dahr could feel Quant’s astonishment. You heard that? Through Lady Fury’s shield.

Dahr felt a moment of satisfaction. No, Quant. I couldn’t pentrate the field. But I won’t let small obstacles like that stop me.

He could feel Quant’s respect, admiration even, and his alarm in almost equal measure. Perhaps this would be more fun than having Gabby along.

Dahr reached out to Gabby next.

I’m sorry you couldn’t come with me, but perhaps we’ll meet again. Thank you for your hospitality.

He saw that Gabby wanted to ask him about his manipulation of her, but she didn’t.

Farewell, Dahr. May you find fortune in your future endeavors.

So formal. Not the Gabby he knew. And he realized that Lady Fury’s warning had raised Gabby’s guard against him–just a bit. He didn’t say anything else. He was leaving, and the odds of him returning this way again, or even surviving what was to come, were slim enough to not waste energy on it. By the time he returned, if he ever did, he would be a lot more powerful than he was now anyway.

He followed Quant’s progress as he quickly packed a few belongings into a worn leather rucksack and made his way toward the ferry. Dahr nodded a greeting but neither spoke.

Dahr enjoyed the crossing, and spend most of his time talking telepathically to Stalker, but it was idle chat. He was leaving behind the place that had taught him more in two weeks than the first 14 years of his life had. If this kept up, who knew how powerful he’d eventually become.

*

Queen Treya stood on a veranda overlooking a courtyard used mostly by palace servants. The sun had already sank out of view, but darkness had not yet fallen. Still, the servants lit long-burning candles as they did each night. Later, after they’d served tea to the nobles they cared for, those servants would gather and talk and laugh. Tonight Treya needed that. Not the formality of nobility, but the noise that came from the honest interactions between people who lived lives that didn’t require the kind of sacrifice being asked of her.

She thought about it again, though she had come here to escape it. She would have to leave Rish behind. Leave the Kingdom of Twyl behind. Leave her home. She would be leaving the relatively security of the palace to march into the enemy’s home, with the hopes that this wasn’t some sort of trap for her.

Of course it wasn’t a trap. How could it be? Who in their right mind would walk into Xarinos? No. It too complex for a trap. It reeked of desperation. The Undead Queen had one card to play. So why didn’t the Undead Queen come here? That much was obvious. The gods had already declared their war. She sent an emissary instead. The one reborn that Treya might listen to. Manipulation? Perhaps. But a desperate measure regardless. Why go to this trouble if she didn’t mean to negotiate in good faith.

What if Treya traveled to Xarinos and they took her captive in an attempt to influence King Terrence. Still too far-fetched. There were easier ways to accomplish this without trying to manipulate a queen to leave her throne behind and walk into the pasdara den. No one in their right mind would accept the Undead Queen’s invitation, but no one had ever accused Treya of playing it safe. So here she was, about to take the greatest risk of her life, and she wouldn’t be doing it alone.

She had summoned the others here, to the servant’s quarters. Less eyes and ears for one thing, but also, this was where the people who made the kingdom lived. Not the nobles. Not the royals. The people, like Lek and his furniture shop. This was all for them. So many royals forgot that, but she never did. Her parents had raised her well.

Treya took one last look at the empty alley, magical in the dusk by candlelight, then turned away and re-entered the room. She suspected this was once quarters for a head maid, before the chamberlain was moved up into the palace proper. It had been reworked into a sitting room, a place for servants to just gather and chat, or spend some time alone.

The furnishings weren’t what she was used to, but they were solid, quality pieces, the kind of merchandise she saw in Lev’s shop. They were made by honest, hard working people. She hadn’t appreciated that before and wondered why. She needed to get out more. Among the people. But that wasn’t possible now. She was leaving.

As soon as the word entered her mind, she paused.

“Is everything all right, my goddess?”

“Stop calling me that,” said Treya irritably. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

Gallen Burke grinned. “16, and you’ve only told me five, so you have a ways to go.”

Treya laughed. “Is this how you talk to your goddess?”

“No, your highness. It’s how I talk to you. I’m glad you gave me this opportunity. You won’t regret it.”

Treya was about to say more, when there was a knock on the door. She looked at Gallen.

“Get that will you, it’s show time.”

Gallen bowed and moved toward the door. His gait was confident, his back completely straight. He was a soldier through and through, but he was also reborn–had been for fifteen years, right under their noses. Bess too. How was it possible?

She returned her attention to the door in time to see Lady Mere and Lady Trast enter. They wore matching outfits, almost certainly by chance. Green and gold, close to Terrence’s house colors. Trast wore trousers and a tunic, which wasn’t all that usual for female warriors, even if Treya never did when in the palace. She would on the road, however. Mere wore an elegant sleeve of a gown that felt too formal for daily wear. Treya wondered if she’d stopped to change before the audience.

“I can’t imagine why we’re meeting here,” said Lady Mere, looking around at the less than luxurious accommodations.

“For secrecy,” said Treya, “and to remember why we rule. It’s not just for the nobles.”

Both women nodded. Treya thought they were probably thinking of their walk through the city streets to Lek’s shop, but it wasn’t important enough to bring up today.

Trast was the first to notice Gallen, standing in the back of the room, silent, still. “What is he doing here?”

“He’s my bodyguard,” said Treya. “Where else would he be?”

Trast studied her, realized she was teasing, but didn’t take the bait. “You can’t trust him, Treya, he’s undead.”

“Actually he’s reborn and I do trust him, with my life.”

“Treya…”

“Listen for a minute. Don’t say anything and just listen. I’m going to tell you something you can’t tell anyone and I mean anyone. Not a soul. You may not even believe it.”

Sandra Mere and Alice Trast shared a concerned look, then returned their attention to the queen.

“Sit, please. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Tell us,” said Lady Mere.

“During the assassination attempt, all five of the sibling gods were present. And was about to dying. Gallen had slit my throat…”

Trast glanced at Gallen briefly as if to make sure he wasn’t getting closer.

“I’d have died if I hadn’t leveled at that moment, but in my panic…I don’t know how to say this…”

“Just say it,” said Mere.

“In my panick…I tethered all five gods.”

Again Mere and Trast looked at each other, but it was Trast who spoke. “Treya, you can’t believe this happened.”

“But it did happen. If you don’t believe me, ask Sheba. Ask the high priests. It won’t be that hard to verify.”

Trast stiffened as if she were suddenly in the middle of a different conversation which Treya suspected she was. She waited, not willing to interrupt. When she finally spoke, there was awe in her voice.

“Treya, what happened…it’s incredible.”

“It’s true?” asked Mere.

Trast nodded. “Sheba confirmed it to me. Queen Treya is a godling.”

“My aspect is resilience.”

Mere nodded. “Of course it is. What else would it be? Only you, Treya, I swear. The undead king sends an assassin and you end up becoming a god when he tries to kill you. It’s insane. Also, that doesn’t explain why your asssassin is now your bodyguard.”

“Because I tethered him.”

Trast blinked. “You tethered him.”

Mere laughed. “That’s what gods do, Trast. You never did pay attention at lessons.”

Trast scowled at her. Treya laughed. It was good to see how they were taking it.

“So he’s vowed himself to you?”

“I have,” said Gallen from the door. “I have been blessed by the goddess with a second chance. I will not make the same mistake again.”

Trast grew serious. “Treya, your first servant is undead. Do you know what kind of signal that sends?”

“I think I do, and I hope people see it. They’re not monsters, Alice. Not all of them anyway. They’re people. Like you. Like me. There are monsters among them to be sure, but there are monsters among us too. We need to stop this war and sign a peace treaty.”

Mere stood up. “Treya, no! The gods themselves declared war on Xarinos.”

Treya smiled. “Well, this goddess thinks they’re wrong, and I’m going to go to Xarinos to negotiate a treaty.”

Trast turned pale. “Go to Xarinos? Are you mad?”

“A bit,” said Treya. “I think it might come with the territory.”

*

Treya closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. How could a goddess have a headache. It didn’t seem right or reasonable. She has spoken to both of her friends for over an hour, discussing what needed to be done, as she wouldn’t be around to do it. She trusted them. The kingdom would be in good hands.

They were different though, after finding out she was a god. To her, she was just Treya, but she was still glowing and they couldn’t have failed to notice that, and the nature of gods in their culture, it wasn’t something her friends could overcome. There was a distance after that. Not something they’d chosen, something that came naturally.

Treya had always been their queen, but they always treated her as one of them. That was no longer the case. And in truth, she wasn’t one of them. She was a goddess, or would be one day, if she survived. She was glad she didn’t tell them she was on the same level of the sibling goddesses. They probably thought she was a minor goddess. That was bad enough. At least it was over. She only had one more conversation to get through.

She’d barely had a thought when there was a knock on the door. Gallen was already moving toward in, no doubt able to see her exhaustion. She was grateful for that. Having Gallen there, reassured her. Strengthened her in ways she didn’t understand. I mean, 3 days ago, the man had tried to kill her. Today he played the dual role of god and butler. That was all she had time for before for her next audience.

Queen Rhea, Jerish, Lord Ormund and Captain Lorco entered, looking around confused. She sat on the sofa and motioned for them to sit, though only Queen Rhea took her up on it.

“Hi,” said Treya.

Rhea stood up and came to her. “Are you all right? You look exhausted.”

“It’s been a few days. I need you all to pack. We’re leaving tomorrow, before first light.”

“Xarinos?” asked Ormund, and Rhea translated.

“Yes. Xarinos.”

Lorco looked like he wanted to say something, but he held is tongue. Jerish just nodded. Rhea had already known and so, apparently, had Ormund.

“I’m sorry I have to ask this of you, but…”

“Treya stop. I’m a scholar of Mitra. Do you really think I would turn down the immense opportunity being offered here? This might be the best day of my life.”

Treya shook her head as if to clear it. “Rhea, this isn’t a scholarly expedition. This group we’re taking, that’s it. We need to move fast and we need to stay out of sight as much as possible. The bigger the group the harder that is. But we need to get to Xarinos as fast as we can.”

“Will Bess be going with you as well?” asked Lorco.

“Of course, said Treya. “I don’t have her here, because she’s reborn, and I didn’t want to make this uncomfortable. You can get to know her on the road. Actually, I’m surprised no one asked about Gallen being here.”

Rhea smiled. “We knew he’d be here. Ormund had already told us. He thought it would save time.”

Treya looked grately at Ormund and smiled. Once, he’d have smiled back, but no more. The soul damage had changed him. He was not the same man. She had to remember that.

“Any questions?”

“No one spoke.”

“Then go. Make your preparations. I’ll meet you all back in this room an hour before dawn. We leave through the servants exit.”

When the goodbyes were over, Treya watched them go. It was later now, and the courtyard was filled with servants, laughing and talking. Treya walked back outside and watched them, but made sure to stay out of sight, so that she didn’t interrupt. They didn’t need to know she was there.

This was it. Her last night in the palace. Her last night in Rish. Tomorrow, she’d set off for Xarinos with only what she took with her.

“Gallen, prepare for the trip. Use palace stores. Take what you need.”

“Of course, my goddess.”

He was gone before she could reprimand him. Honestly she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She stayed for a while, hiding behind a column, until the sight of their joy was no longer compatible with her melancholy.

One last night in Rish, and then, the goddess of resilience would march into the wilderness on a quest to save the world from itself. Treya chuckled, but there was no joy in the sound. Then she went back inside and prepared to sleep.

She would stay here, tonight and sleep as a servant would, for now, that’s what she was. She served the people of the world and would have to start acting like it.