CHAPTER 5
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WHEN BEX OPENED HER eyes again, she was on her knees in a dry riverbed.
The silt was so soft and powdery that she could barely feel it beneath her fingers.
If there’d been any wind, the whole bank would’ve blown away in a single gust, but there wasn’t.
There was no wind, no sound, no movement or life of any sort.
Just dust and ash and the shadow of a faint, ghostly figure hanging like a pall in front of her.
What do you think you are doing?
Bex flinched. That was Ishtar’s voice. She’d know it anywhere, but it was so faint. The goddess’s words were as weightless as the dust that flew into the air just from the puff of Bex’s breathing. The anger that burned inside them, however, was as hot as the bonfire’s flames.
What do you think you are doing? the ghostly image of Ishtar demanded again. You are my sword, my weapon! You swing at my pleasure!
The shadow turned her head sharply, causing her towering crown of six tall horns to flicker like an old film.
I thought you understood that, she whispered, covering her once-beautiful face with her hands.
You were so loyal, so good. Rebexa would never betray me.
That’s what I always thought, but what do I see now?
My faithful daughter, telling my demons to swear to her.
The dead goddess ripped her hands back down to reveal a terrifying visage of rage. You stole my worshipers!
“I didn’t steal them!” Bex cried, putting up her own hands.
“It was the Morrigan who riled them up! The children of the Riverlands are loyal. The only reason the Morrigan’s attack got through is because your people are suffering.
They’re hurt and terrified, desperate for salvation. If you’d just speak to them—”
Why should I? Ishtar snarled. I don’t care how they feel. I’m the reason they exist! They should be grateful.
“They are grateful,” Bex insisted, looking up at her mother. “But all the demons you originally created are gone. These are their children’s children, who know you only as a story. They want to believe, but no matter how faithfully they pray to you, it never works, because you’re dead.”
You think I wanted to be dead? Ishtar snapped.
“Of course not,” Bex said quickly. “I’m just asking you to look at things from their perspective. Their lives have been terrible under Gilgamesh, and their goddess can’t do anything to help them.”
I gave them you, Ishtar argued. I didn’t have to keep catching you every time you died. I could have let you fall into the void, but you act like your rebirths are all your doing. You seek to steal my place. Her ghostly eyes narrowed. You’re as faithless as War.
Bex’s jaw ticked. “Maybe War wouldn’t have been so faithless if you hadn’t thrown her in a pit.”
You only say that because you’ve forgotten what she used to sound like, Ishtar said dismissively. She was an embarrassment—howling like an animal, cursing my name. She ruined the peace of our divine Paradise. Of course she was punished.
“War only howled because the job you made her do left her in constant pain,” Bex retorted. “You’re her mother. Why didn’t you try to ease her suffering instead of locking her up?”
Because her suffering was not my problem, Ishtar’s ghost snapped. Paradise was a joint project, the gods’ great work. If I let your sister slack off, the sin of War would not be cleansed, and we’d fall behind schedule.
Bex couldn’t believe her ears. “And that was worth your daughter?”
Don’t let her manipulate you, Ishtar warned.
You all suffered for humanity’s sins, but while the rest of you bore it gladly, War was weak.
She screamed at pain the rest of you endured without complaint, so I put her in that hole to toughen her up.
I took no joy in it, but it had to be done.
After all, a queen who cannot do her job is worthless.
She said this as if she couldn’t understand why anyone would be upset by it, but Bex was staring at her mother like she’d never seen her before.
“Is that all we were to you?” she whispered at last. “Was Gilgamesh right? Did you only ever see us as your tools?”
Oh, darling, no, Ishtar said, reaching down to stroke her daughter’s hair.
It’s true I made you for a purpose, but that’s what makes you divine.
You were all part of our great and important work: the perfection of humanity.
When we were done, there would be no more war or wrath, no pride, greed, sorrow, lust, hate, fear, or envy.
All of humanity’s demons would be vanquished, and the entire species would know nothing but peace, solace, and tranquility.
They would worship us forever in deathless bliss.
Isn’t that a Paradise worth suffering for?
Her ghostly hand kept petting her daughter’s hair the entire time she spoke, but Bex pulled away.
“What about us?” she asked, looking up at her divine mother. “What about your demons?”
Your work would be finished as well, the goddess assured her.
When humanity had no more sins to scrub clean, I would reclaim the divine spark of power I placed inside each of you and take you all back into myself.
As you came from me, so would you return to become part of my divine happiness forever.
Again, she said this as if it were the only sensible conclusion, but Bex had never been more horrified in her life.
“What about our happiness?” she demanded, shooting to her feet. “We were the ones doing all the work!”
I was offering you a great gift, Ishtar said pointedly.
It’s not everyone who gets to experience the divine happiness of a goddess firsthand.
I could have made you all brainless like Enki did with his forge workers, but purging human sins requires empathy, so I gave you all named souls derived from my own divine power.
Those names are the only reason you were able to survive my death.
Every demon still in existence is alive because of me.
Again, you should be grateful, not whining about how you’ve suffered in my absence while I’ve been dead.
Bex clenched her fists. “Wanting to be free of slavery is not whining.”
Then take it up with your slaver! Ishtar snarled. Gilgamesh is the one who did this to you, not me!
“I am going to take it up with him,” Bex promised, sticking out her hand to show her mother the fire that was still blazing like the sun.
“This is the power of your people. It might have started with you, but they’re the ones who kept it alive, passing the flame of hope from generation to generation.
They never stopped believing that you’d return to save them one day, so if you want their worship, be worthy of it.
Take this fire and prove that you’re still the Ishtar from the stories, Goddess of War and Merciful Mother of the Riverlands.
If you don’t want them turning to me, then strike down Gilgamesh yourself and end this!
Do that, and your people will praise you again with their whole hearts.
I will kneel and praise you, because I don’t care about prayers or being worshiped.
I just want this to end. I want their suffering, my suffering, all of our suffering to stop.
Do that for us, and I’ll make sure everyone knows you are the greatest goddess who was ever worthy of her people’s praise. ”
Bex fell back to her knees as she finished, holding the blazing fire up to her mother like an offering, but the ghost of her goddess stepped back.
No.
“Why not?” Bex demanded. “I thought you wanted—”
I want the worship that’s mine by right, Ishtar snapped, backing away even farther.
But I’m not falling for the same trick twice.
You think I can’t see what’s happening? The Morrigan, that uncivilized barbarian, arranged this situation specially to lure me out.
She even sent you to me knowing that I’ve always had a weakness for your earnestness, but it’s not going to work.
You think that fire is something special?
It’s nothing, leftovers, not even a fraction of the power I once possessed.
If I take that flame and march back into the open like the idiot you’re asking me to be, what do you think is going to happen?
Bex frowned at the wrath burning in her hands. “I don’t—”
I’ll die, the goddess said flatly, crossing her arms over her transparent chest. If I couldn’t beat Gilgamesh at the height of my power, there’s no way I can possibly beat him with that. It’s just common sense.
“Then what was it all for?” Bex cried, shooting back to her feet as the fire spread down her arms. “All my lives and deaths, five thousand years of fighting—what was the point of any of it if you’re not even going to try?”
Oh, darling, Ishtar said, giving her a pitying smile.
The fighting was the point. I always knew you were never going to win.
I only let you go back so you could continue being a thorn in Gilgamesh’s side.
That haughty brat was using my demons like they were his property.
Just because I knew I couldn’t beat him didn’t mean I was going to stand aside and let him get away with that, so I threw you under his feet.
You’ve been spoiling his plans and costing him stress for eons.
It might be petty, but knowing Gilgamesh was suffering has given me much solace during what would otherwise be an extremely depressing afterlife, and it made you happy too.
She reached out to pet Bex’s hair again.
You always were such a hopeful little creature, and you worked so hard.
That’s why you were my favorite. My other queens grew cynical and resentful, but you always believed the best. Even after Paradise fell, you sincerely thought you could get it back, and I just didn’t have the heart to tell you how foolish that was.
“So you lied to me?”