Chapter 10 Daesra #2
That’s the river’s purpose, after all—to form a barrier that’s effective enough to keep most shades from crossing by anything but the ferry, or, even if they manage to swim to the other side, to put them at a disadvantage right before their judgment.
While I don’t recall my mortal mother ever exhibiting much hatred in her life, she likely won’t escape unscathed.
“All right,” she says, her eyes fixed on the water with a mixture of determination and fear. “Tell me what to do.”
Once more, she’s not arguing with my plan, which makes both guilt and frustration twist inside of me.
Part of me wants her to push back at my directives even though I’m offering her no choice.
Not because I want the thrill of being challenged—and winning—like Isha, but because I don’t deserve such trust.
I’m risking her to try to save Sadaré, after all. She must know that.
I swallow a grimace. “Once we’re in the water, wrap your arms around my waist from behind me.
You can help kick if you can, but otherwise just hold on tight and let me pull you along.
” As I speak, I use my power to draw material from my tunic to make a long rope leash for Pogli.
This, at least, I can still do, but maybe only because my tunic isn’t made of thanar.
The little chimera can actually swim with his duck wings to help propel him and stay afloat, but against this current he could easily be swept away.
Attached to me, he’ll manage. It doesn’t hurt that it shortens my tunic for more ease of movement.
I tie one end to my ankle and the other around his stout chest, up under his armpits.
He playfully nips at the rope as if this were a game.
I wish that was all this was.
“I’ll go first as a test,” I say, and slosh into the river up to my calves, dragging the length of leash behind me. The water is curiously warm, but I don’t feel anything else strange at the contact. I wait for a long moment with the same result—and then hear splashing behind me. “Pogli!”
He’s already entered the shallows, pawing and biting at the water, but at least his tail is wriggling.
There’s nothing else for it. I gesture for Melé to follow. When she steps up behind me, I help guide her hands around my waist before we wade in deeper, Pogli trailing us to complete our awkward parade. I check her grip to make sure it’s securely fastened.
“Ready?” I ask. I feel her nod against my back, her breath coming more rapidly.
I push off the bottom, launching us into the river.
Warm, iron-reeking water floods my clothing and catches at Melé.
Using only one arm to paddle, I keep a hand locked over hers until I’m confident she won’t be ripped away from me.
She’s so much smaller than me that I barely feel her weight atop my back and her legs don’t tangle much with mine, especially once she gives up kicking and simply lets me carry her.
I can swim well enough for both of us. The three of us, counting Pogli.
Settling into a steady, powerful rhythm, I aim for the steep bank straight across the river, knowing we’ll be dragged farther downstream by the current.
With any luck, we’ll end up right on the sloping shore where the other dock sits.
Other than the unexpected warmth against my skin and the sharp tang of iron on my tongue, I don’t yet sense anything else unusual, despite the occasional tug on my ankle.
In fact, I feel at home in this hellish river.
I swim as I was born to. My arms cut through the current like oars, my legs like fins—something honed and utterly natural at the same time.
Keeping an eye between breaths on both Pogli paddling and flapping madly behind us and our destination slowly gaining on us ahead, I hold our course without effort.
A feeling of weightlessness buoys me, like I’m flying through air, not water.
I’m still made for this, even after being twice remade.
In this instance, I don’t miss my hooves.
I don’t even know how I tolerated them for so long.
I’ve missed swimming almost more than anything I possessed as a daemon, and it’s a joy to rediscover it as a god. Quite the opposite of hatred, it’s exhilaration that sings through my limbs.
Until Melé gasps behind me. “I don’t like this.” I ignore her as long as I can—my face is mostly underwater—until she yanks at my waist, jerking me out of my rhythm, and cries, “What are you doing to me?”
Our pace slows as I’m forced to lift my head to respond.
We’re well over halfway across, but we can’t stop.
Right as I think that, something brushes along my toes.
Something slimy, like river weed. Or perhaps a fish, not that I want to imagine what sort of fish could live here.
Or worse, something more fleshy like what I spotted in the sea.
“I’m not doing anything to you.” I spit foul-tasting water, swimming more like a frog now. “If you feel strange, it’s the river. We just need to keep moving—”
Her nails dig into my skin where she grips me. “How could you do this to me? This is all your fault. I was fine in Isha’s fortress. I was safe! And now I’m not, all because of you. You care more about that bitch than you ever did for me.”
“That’s not true,” I insist, exertion making my words more vehement, never mind that parts of it are true. “I cared for you deeply. You were my mother—”
“And you ruined my life!” She lets go with one hand to pound a fist against my back, nearly losing her grip on me entirely and forcing me to snatch her back against my body, even as she keeps flailing at me.
I’ve been expecting a scolding for becoming a daemon, but what she hisses furiously into my ear next chokes me more than any river water. Bruises me more than any strike.
“You ruined my life as soon as you came into mine! Your conception killed my husband and nearly killed me. Sea even stole any joy in your birth by giving birth to you in my stead—”
“She did that to save your life—!” I interject, but Melé claws higher up my back, briefly dunking my head underwater and making me sputter, heedless of my attempts to press on. When I resurface, she’s still ranting.
“You were all she cared about, never me, even though I worshiped her forever after. She never came back to me, not even when I lived out my life in a temple dedicated to her!”
“She didn’t care about me, either, and you ignored me!
” I roar over her, shooting an exasperated glance at her over my shoulder—which is laughably difficult since she mostly turns with me in the water.
Except none of this is amusing. I’m not unnaturally angry—this is all me, lashing out as usual, even as I maintain the presence of mind to continue fighting against the current, despite now-encumbered limbs.
Pogli is even gaining on us, which isn’t a good sign.
I look back at the far bank to find it whipping by, but that doesn’t stop me from adding, “I was still your son, and yet all you cared about was Sea! So pardon me if I figured the Tower of the Gods was where I needed to go to earn love from any of my parents.”
She seizes my hair now, cranking back my head and halting any forward progress, since all I can manage is treading water in such a position.
“You abandoned me, just like Sea! And for what? You took your birthright sword and killed your way across the land when I told you to go by ship—all out of pride! And what good did it do? The gods rejected you, as you deserved. And instead of learning from your mistakes, you only made a greater one!” Here it comes, and yet it hurts far more than I expected after the blows she’s already landed.
“You became a daemon! You shamed your divine and mortal parents both! You got me killed because of how much you angered Sky.”
So she does blame me for her death. I always feared I was responsible—that she killed herself in shame over me. Even though I now know she didn’t, I’m still at fault in her eyes.
Everything I feared she thought of me is spewing from her lips. A wave of shame crushes me more than the river ever could, sinking into my bones. Sinking me with Melé clinging to me.
No, she’s actively trying to shove my head under now. “I hate you,” she spits, grabbing for my horns.
Of course she hates me. Because this is the River of Godsdamned Hatred. Her words, rather than wound me further, are enough to make me remember that this isn’t her. Not all of her, anyway. It’s the worst of her, pointing out the worst of me.
And she’s going to drown under the weight of such hatred—literally. The steep edge of the opposite bank is passing by almost too quickly for us to ever catch the gap where it slopes around the dock.
I abruptly drop out from under her, forcing her to let go of me to stay afloat.
At least she’s not too far gone for survival instinct.
Twisting around her in the water, I come up behind her and catch her across the chest, pinning her shoulders to my chest and her arms to her sides.
I still have one arm to paddle and both legs free to kick, and yet she struggles like a madwoman, splashing wildly.
She even tries to bite my arm until I squeeze her hard enough to force her head up to breathe through the pressure.
Her ribs creak under me, and yet she manages to continue cursing at me.
Pogli is close enough to bark at us between his panting breaths, his lolling tongue dragging alongside him in the water. Meanwhile, I’m now dragging Melé along with him. If swimming was easy before, these conditions are ridiculous.
But I’m still me—hated, once-demonic god of chaos that I am. I kick for the shore with everything I have.
It still might not be enough.