Chapter 16
While it wasn’t the Strega Pan was expecting, or the one Feryn was hoping for, any Strega was better than none.
They all sat at a table in the bar with a bowl of stew that seemed to be a combination of what was left in Linda’s fridge and the palace, because there were Tarikian vegetables floating in the meaty broth.
After a day spent with the centaurs, Pan was a little too happy to be eating a large bowl of hot mystery stew in the pub.
He really should offer himself a prayer that everything turned out so well. Perhaps Noah should worship him tonight.
He glanced at Noah and smiled. Noah rolled his eyes as if knowing exactly what Pan was thinking. Which was impossible because he was a god, and half the time, he didn’t know what his next thought was.
Then again, there was more magic when he was worshipping Noah…
Noah’s cheeks turned pink. If there hadn’t been so many people around, Pan would’ve leaned over and said something. Instead, he returned his attention to his bowl.
In the center of the table was a carafe of mead that Feryn had probably received in a trade deal with another city, as it tasted like elvish mead.
And the last time he’d been in Beita, they hadn’t been making their own, or at least not on a level to trade.
Though there had been an elvish-run tavern, which had made and sold small quantities.
Were human bees the same as Tarikian?
With the Strega, Lord Feryn, and him at a table, it was almost like old times.
The city’s knight was missing, presumed dead.
And most but not all cities had a war leader.
Now wasn’t the time to discuss another loss.
Noah sat with them as the representative of the human world.
That seems like an important position to have, and both Feryn and the Strega had agreed they needed someone.
Noah didn’t seem to believe he was up to the job, but he’d learn the same way they all needed to.
Rohan and Nate had been offered a room in the palace, given Rohan’s obvious status, and it seemed that some of the vampires knew him and Nate by reputation.
Tonight, they were resting; tomorrow, they would make a plan for Nate’s return to human society.
Apparently, that would involve paperwork, according to Linda.
Linda had gone to have dinner with one of her friends, claiming that she needed to get away from the pub for a bit, but Pan suspected she knew serious discussions needed to happen and that she didn’t want to appear to be listening in, that, or she wanted a hot shower.
He was starting to really enjoy the shower at Noah’s place.
Though the bath wasn’t big enough for the both of them, which was a disappointment. It wasn’t even big enough for one seal.
Linda had tried to take Noah with her, but Pan insisted that he remain due to the coat issue, which she had accepted without argument. Like Noah, when she dug her heels in, it was like begging a dragon to move, which, as they were all experiencing, was near on impossible.
They liked being near the palace and the pub, and Pan suspected it was because the female was injured, and they liked the security the buildings and the fence gave them. Which meant that if they wanted the dragons to move, they needed to create a secure place for them.
Not only that, but since the female would never fly again, she needed to be able to walk to water. It was all a little bit of a mess, and without magic, there were only so many messes he could think about at any given moment.
The Strega lifted her gaze from her glass, which she had been staring into for quite a while after being filled in on the situation.
When a Strega was thinking it was best not to disturb her.
She was probably examining fate lines or talking to her sisters or something.
Though she had not mentioned the state of her magic, which he assumed meant it all worked fine. Not that he knew how it worked.
How had he managed to live for so long and still understand so little?
Had he really spent centuries flitting around, fulfilling his own desires and others’ prayers with no examination or concern about the future? Perhaps he should’ve occasionally consulted a Strega about his fate lines; then, he might’ve been better prepared for this situation.
She exhaled. “I would like to say that my sisters and I saw this coming. But we did not. We saw upheaval and disruptions to the magic…which must be from the human experiment.”
Pan bit his tongue to stop the questions from bubbling out of his mouth. He was sure everyone at the table had no idea how much self-control that took.
“The connection with my sisters…” She shook her head. “We are cut off.”
Pan swore in centaur, because while he didn’t like them very much, they did know how to curse. “So magic is out of reach.”
He glanced at Noah. Almost out of reach.
“If you break a limb, do you use it immediately or give it time to heal?” the Strega asked.
“I use magic to fix it.” Why wouldn’t he? Not that he remembered the last time he’d broken something.
Feryn snorted. “A god only knows how to fix things with prayers and magic.”
“Excuse me? I have been all over this city, helping people and doing things on your behalf.” He waved his hand at Feryn.
“Because you want a temple in your honor. You want prayers you can’t hear.”
The Strega lifted her hand. “A temple is a good idea. I feel that it will be a part of the healing, for Pan and magic. But that requires Pan to be honest about who he is, and his limitations.”
Pan leaned back in his chair. “I will not admit to having no power.”
The Strega smiled. “But you do have power, albeit smaller.” She nodded at Noah. “We need to reassure people that magic will return.”
“Will it?” Feryn asked. “And will it change anything?” He swept a lock of hair behind his ear, reminding everyone of his damaged looks.
And he had the nerve to criticize Pan for wanting magic. With magic, he served everyone. With magic, he wouldn’t be fucking worried about what to do with wounded dragons and dead bodies and broken houses.
“Yes,” the Strega said simply. “I cannot tell you when. The fate lines do not tangle with time.”
“Is my fate line tangled with the coat forever?” Noah asked. It was the first time he had spoken since helping to explain everything that was going on in the city.
She considered him for several heartbeats.
Pan wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say.
“For the moment, I do not see a way to separate them. That does not mean that opportunities will not arise. Different choices create different paths, and they are always changing. However, your life path was always leading you towards magic.”
“What does that mean? I was meant to turn into a seal?”
“No, perhaps you would’ve found a way to Tariko. Or discovered a way to reach magic on your own. That ability was always there—don’t look at me as though you don’t believe when you have been collecting magical objects since you were old enough to walk.”
Noah opened and closed his mouth.
“For the moment, you are a selkie. You are Pan’s consort. And you are doing a very good job of helping Tarikians.” She gave Noah a single nod as if it were settled.
Noah’s eyebrows pulled and lifted together. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
She smiled. “Even a god can’t answer all prayers.”
“That is true. We can direct magic, but if I were to respond to every plea, magic would burn me up until I was nothing but dust on the breeze.” That was something the people who prayed to the gods didn’t realize.
Wanting a miracle took effort from everyone involved.
And most people weren’t willing to put in the work or sacrifice.
And if they weren’t willing, he wasn’t going to make up the shortfall when there were a dozen other people he could assist in smaller ways.
Sometimes, the great work was one thousand tiny actions that went almost unnoticed until long after they were forgotten. But flashy miracles drew attention.
Perhaps he was too subtle.
“We need to create a miracle,” Pan said. “Samhain is coming. That would be a grand time to show everyone that I still have power, that you can read the fate lines, and that everything will be fine.”
“I never said everything would be fine,” the Strega cautioned.
“You said magic would heal.”
“I said nothing about the world or our people. And I am hopeful that magic will heal, given that Noah can use it.”
Noah shook his head. “I can’t use it on my own.”
“Not yet, but you will.” The Strega sounded far too confident in Noah’s abilities.
“Let’s build a temple in Noah’s honor.” Pan rolled his eyes.
“Perhaps a temple isn’t the right word for what we need.” She rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Perhaps, a monument. Something to commemorate the dead and lost.”
“That does not encourage people to worship me.” Was that not the point of all of this?
“Pan, and I say this with the utmost respect because I have been to your temple, and believe the presence of a god, working for the good of all people, in this city means something, you really need to think more than one step ahead.”
Noah stifled a laugh. Pan shot him a glare. They were supposed to be working together.
“I’m not laughing because it’s funny, I’m laughing because it’s kind of true.” Noah grinned at him.
“It’s not.” Pan crossed his arms.
The Strega smiled. “You’re a god, so you don’t need to think several steps ahead.
You just act. That is who you are. But I am asking you to consider that there are many small steps between where we are now and magic returning.
Perhaps if I suggested that you need to perform a hundred small non-magical blessings to gain one worshipper, you will understand. ”
“I have five,” he pointed at the shrine the drak made by the fireplace. “Six.” He pointed at Noah. And it wasn’t enough for even the tiniest mote of magic.