Chapter 16
The dining chamber Keita, Britta, and my other companions are waiting in when I return is on the topmost branch of the tallest tree in Maiwuri—a sprawling, vine-covered behemoth that more closely resembles the highest tower of a palace than it does a tree. I have to use Ixa’s winged form to reach it. It’s an enchanting space. The tables and chairs are formed from twisting purple vines, and each one is adorned by the same glowing insects we saw as we made our way to the beach earlier, which hum and vibrate in the foliage. Softly shimmering night birds fly past the clear glass walls that protect the chamber from the wind currents outside, their ethereal glow and melodious songs lending a magical cast to the entire affair. It does nothing to calm my tension as I descend from Ixa, who flaps off into the night, to commune with the rest of his kind, no doubt.
“Deka!” Keita says when he spots me. “How was it?”
“Devastating,” I say as I exhaustedly walk over, doing my best not to meet his eyes. After everything I’ve learned, my entire body is heavy, as is my spirit.
I knew, of course, after I battled the goddesses, that ascending to the ranks of the divine would mean giving up my old life—not just my mortal body but my friends, Keita, everyone I’ve ever known and loved. That’s why my friends and I have remained so intently focused on finding Mother and overcoming every obstacle we met along the journey. If we stopped, there was not only the looming threat of torture and death but also that of the truth: gods and mortals don’t mix. Gods are too remote, too unpredictable. And mortals are too easily killed.
Sooner or later, our journey would come to an end. And with it, our years of companionship. We all knew this fact, which is why we tried to avoid it as long as we could.
What none of us knew, however, was that the end of my journey would entail my accepting death—giving in to it. And now that I have this knowledge, I’m not certain I want to share it with the others. It’s bad enough saying goodbye, but saying goodbye in such a manner? I don’t think I could bear it.
And more to the point, I don’t want to.
Despite everything I know, I don’t want to surrender my life. I don’t want to leave my friends, my chosen family, behind. I don’t want to be alone for an eternity.
The Gilded Ones and the Idugu, at least, had each other when they arrived on this plane. When I ascend, I’ll have no one. I’ll be alone, a singular god surrounded by the ashes of the pantheon she decimated.
Keita glances back at me, his eyes worried. “Deka?” he prompts.
He’s clearly waiting for me to explain my pronouncement. But I’m not ready to just yet.
I try to buy time by glancing at the table, which is overflowing with all sorts of food—the choicest of grains, the best cuts of meat and fish. “After I eat,” I insist. “I’ll tell you after I eat. For now, I’m starving.”
“Of course.” I can see in his eyes Keita knows I’m stalling, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he just places his hand on my cheek and strokes the skin there. “At your own pace, Deka,” he says quietly. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Then he leads me to the table, where the vine chairs curl back of their own accord to accommodate us, only to curl forward again, holding us securely in place.
The meal the godsworn have prepared this evening is much more opulent than the one we received when we first arrived. Where yesterday we satiated our hunger with hearty grains and simmering stews, whole roasted fish and meats now lay in front of us, artistically arranged on gigantic leaves sprinkled with bright, crystal-dusted flowers. Little sweet cakes shaped like animals line a tower of desserts, which include rice pastries, banana puffs, and other such delicacies. To top it all off, glittering streams of fruit juices flow like little waterfalls from both sides of the tree trunk surrounding us.
If I wasn’t hungry before, I certainly am now, so I hurriedly gulp down the food the leafy, plant-covered attendants offer me, barely even noticing the elegant little gold-tipped fern plates they’re using to serve us.
It takes at least half a plate of food before I’m ready to talk, and by that time, my friends are all tapping their feet with impatience. That includes Lamin, who, to my surprise, is now sitting quietly next to Britta, his eerily pale skin shimmering in the moonlight. After my pronouncement to him earlier this evening, he must have determined to make what amends he could, which is the only explanation I can think of for why the pair is sitting cheek by jowl, as if they weren’t just at loggerheads earlier this evening.
When he sees me looking, he inclines his head but doesn’t say anything—not that I expected him to. One thing that remains constant about Lamin, godsworn or not, is his dedication to stoic silence.
“Well?” Britta urges when I still don’t speak. “Wha happened? Details, Deka, details!”
“You can’t just say things are devastating and then leave us in suspense,” Li agrees.
I sigh, then glance at the attendants serving us. Their leader, a tall, willowy green woman that very much resembles a newly sprouted sapling, nods to her companions the moment she notices my gaze. They all swiftly fade back into the tree like shadows, the leaves rustling to herald their departure.
Once I’m certain they’re gone, I begin. “What happened is that I saw Mother and she was a wraith.”
“Ye mean like the ones in the vale?” Britta seems confused, as do the rest of my friends.
“No, I mean like a spirit—one bound to the temple of the gods.”
Britta takes a moment to absorb this information. “So she’s…”
“Dead. All this time.”
“Oh, Deka.” Britta rushes to enfold me in her arms.
As I sit there, allowing myself to be comforted, a hesitant cough draws my attention. Li’s. “So…not to be insensitive…,” he begins, a statement that all but ensures he’s about to be precisely that, “but how does that relate to your kelai? Was it there? Do you have it?”
I shake my head as I quickly tell them the story Mother told me, including about tracking down her body. “The priests, apparently, cloak my kelai with all sorts of arcane objects, but they don’t do the same for Mother’s body.”
“But how do we find it?” Keita rubs his forehead wearily. “It’s not like any of us can sniff out her scent on the wind.”
“We can if we have her things.” When everyone turns to me, I shrug. “All we have to do is get a sample of her clothing, and then Ixa will—”
“Wha? Sniff out your mother’s scent across Otera? Now how does that make sense, Deka?” Britta seems outraged by the suggestion.
I deflate. “It was an idea. I got so overwhelmed after everything the gods told me, I never thought to ask exactly how I—”
“You’ll use your combat state,” says Lamin. I turn to him, startled. “Your combat state is more enhanced than any other person’s as a result of your true nature as a divine being. It not only helps you see the truth of things; it also allows you to sense all sorts of things we can’t even imagine. And that should include other people’s purest essences, their primordial selves.”
I blink. “I don’t quite understand what you’re saying, but I feel like you have something there.”
Lamin eagerly moves closer. “You were correct when you said you needed your mother’s things. Specifically, you’ll need something that carries her scent, since scent is what spurs the most powerful memories.”
“Can’t we get that from here?” Li asks.
“Wha part of ‘she’s a wraith, only her spirit is on this island’ do ye not understand?” Britta retorts.
Li holds up his hands. “It was just a suggestion.”
Lamin ignores the pair as he continues: “Once you have something with her scent on it, all you have to do is expand your senses to search for her essence. You should be able to follow its traces to her body.”
Britta glowers at him. “An’ when were ye planning to mention this? After we’d scoured the entirety of Otera?”
Lamin has the good sense to seem chastened. “It just occurred to me,” he says sheepishly. “I’ve become so used to being a warrior, I’ve forgotten to use my training as a godsworn.” When I frown at him, he expands: “All godsworn are trained to understand the workings of their deities and all the gods in general. I spent most of my childhood learning. That’s why I know so much about your combat state.”
“An’ ye never saw fit to tell us any of this before?” Britta sputters. “Give us the benefit of yer understanding of the gods?”
“Divine covenant,” he reminds her calmly.
“Covenant, my arse.” Britta sniffs. “Ye just wanted to remain loyal to yer keepers here.”
As she glares at him, Keita turns to me again. “And what about the actual death of the Oteran gods? Will the Maiwurians aid you in killing them?”
I shake my head. “Apparently they cannot. Interacting with their kin would expose them to corruption and hasten the ending of the world.”
“The ending of the world.” Keita blinks. “Did I mishear or did you just say ‘the ending of the world’?”
I still. There it is, the truth I didn’t want to share. I sigh. “The shadow vales are, apparently, just a herald. The world is tearing at its seams. If the Oteran gods are not destroyed soon, their corruption will spread across the world and end all life as we know it.”
“Ye mean eventually, right?” Britta moves closer, her eyes desperate. “Tell me ye mean eventually, as in hundreds of thousands of years.”
I shake my head, those horrible feelings surging again. “I can’t,” I whisper, tears pricking my eyes. “The gods back home may not be able to acknowledge the truth, or even see it, but what they’re doing, their war with each other, is killing not only Otera but Maiwuri as well. The entire world is suffering because of their folly, and soon—perhaps in years, perhaps even in months—everything will come to an end because of them.”
A low whistle cuts the silence as Belcalis leans heavily back in her chair. “And the gods of Maiwuri want you to just ride back to Otera and fix it all for them.”
“Yes.” I don’t even bother to try to prettify my answer.
“You, Deka of Irfut.”
“Yes.”
“Ye, Deka, who only a few years ago thought ye were human.” Britta reenters the conversation, her eyes blinking fast now, as if she’s trying to understand, trying to comprehend.
But there is no comprehending this—only trying to survive it.
“Yes,” I say, “I’m the one they want to fix this. Me, you—all of us.”
Britta seems to sit with this for a moment, then tears glaze her eyes—tears not so much of sadness but of frustration. I know this because of how red she gets, how tightly her hands clench into fists. “After everything we’ve done. Everything. I can’t…I just…” She pounds the table, the single blow so hard, she breaks a chunk off the side.
“Britta,” I begin, but she’s already rushing off, then hiding behind a cluster of leaves, her gasping sobs audible even from a distance.
When I begin to stand, Li shakes his head. “I’ll go get her,” he says quietly.
As he rushes to her side, worry in his eyes, I watch, thankful: I’m no longer Britta’s only person. Li is here as well. It’s his job to hold her now, his job to comfort her. And it’s a relief. Given how I’m feeling, I don’t have it in me to comfort anyone else.
Once they’ve disappeared, Belcalis gulps down the rest of her drink. “Well,” she says dryly, “that’s one way to react to news of the world ending.”
“Is there any other?” Lamin seems genuinely curious. But that might be because he’s digesting things too. What I’ve said is a lot for anyone to absorb, much less comprehend.
I’m still attempting to.
“Yes,” Belcalis says, picking up her drink horn and walking over to the tiny stream of palm wine flowing down the side of the tree trunk. She fills it until it’s overflowing. “There’s this.” She downs the wine in one gulp, then thrusts her horn under the stream again.
Once it’s full, she nods at us. “A good night to you all,” she says. “I’m going to get myself some much-needed rest if we’re all likely to die soon.”
Lamin rises, walks slowly after her. “I’m going with you.” When he reaches the edge of the branch, he turns to Keita and me, uncertain. “I imagine you’ll be leaving soon?”
“Tomorrow,” I say, since there’s no point in holding grudges anymore. Any which way we go, this is probably one of the last times I’ll see Lamin.
I don’t want the memory to be laced with animosity.
He nods, thinking. “I know it’s not my place any longer, but please, don’t leave without saying goodbye.”
I nod. “We won’t.”
He nods. And then he’s gone too.
Now Keita and I are alone, the vastness of the night enveloping us like a cloak. I’m grateful when he immediately moves over and enfolds me in his arms. He buries his nose in my hair, as if trying to douse himself in the scent, the memory.
I do the same, closing my eyes so that his warmth completely surrounds me, protects me. For minutes, perhaps even an hour, we’re content just to remain there, wrapped in each other.
Who knows when next we’ll get the chance.
Finally, Keita stretches, moves my legs over so I’m sitting sideways on his lap. “So,” he begins, his eyes glowing in the darkness, “the world may truly end?”
“Seems possible—well, probable, given all that we have to face.” After my conversation with the gods, I’m suddenly not the Deka I was a mere day ago, confident that everything would work out.
If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that the universe conspires against me, that it throws out every obstacle it can to muddy my path.
Keita nods as he looks up at the stars. Then he sighs. “Hard to believe that.”
“And yet it is what will come to pass if we fail. I saw a shadow vale in the water, Keita. It was there, this ominous, awful thing, and it was right beside the Hall of the Gods. We can’t escape what’s happening, no matter how hard we try.”
“We can only fight.” Keita nods once more, his eyes weary. “Then again, that’s always our only option, fighting. Is that all life is—fighting, struggle?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. That’s all I’ve ever experienced, especially these past two years.”
“Me too.” Then he sighs. “I wonder what life is like for other people, the lucky ones.”
“I don’t think there are any.” When Keita looks down at me, I shrug. “Once upon a time, I thought you were one of the lucky ones. Then I learned your story.”
Like the stories of most of my other companions, Keita’s is horrific. Deathshrieks slaughtered his family when he was a child, killed them as they slept in the summer house they’d built near the Temple of the Goddesses. The temple their cousin, Gezo, the former emperor of Otera, had neglected to mention was there.
Only later did Keita learn of Gezo’s treachery. The former emperor had sent his family there on purpose, to ensure that they all died before their branch of the royal line became too popular and threatened his reign.
Keita glances at me, then nods. “Perhaps you’re correct. Everyone has their pain. Some just have more than others.”
“Indeed,” I agree.
And then I lapse into silence, allowing the insect calls and nocturnal birdsong to swell and fill the space where our words should be. And there are so many words now, so many things to say, except I don’t want to say them, because voicing them makes them real. Makes them final.
The silence continues, lingering longer and longer until I can’t bear it anymore. I look up at Keita, my entire being suddenly desperate as I place my hand on his cheek. “Keita,” I begin, not surprised when he looks away from me, unable to meet my eyes.
He knows what is coming.
After all, we’ve been avoiding it for the better part of a month. For an eternity, it seems, given how desperate everything is all the time. “If I become a god—”
“When you become a god.”
“When I become a god, what will become of us?”
Keita continues looking pointedly away, now leaning his head back so his eyes can search the night sky. “I expect we’ll continue as we are.”
“Sweethearts?” I scoff. “A boy and a god?”
Keita’s eyes flick to mine. “A worshipper and his goddess. Or perhaps even a godsworn and his goddess.”
I stiffen. “That’s not funny, Keita. I would never wish that for you. Never.”
“But I do worship you, Deka. Now, then, always. And if bonding myself to you will keep me by your side forever, I would gladly do it.”
“But I wouldn’t want you to.”
“It’s not up to you.” Keita’s reply is swift, and it is firm. He looks down at me, his eyes burning now as they peer into mine. “You heard Myter: I have a choice. And I choose you. Wherever you are, that is where I wish to be.”
The devotion in his eyes is so raw, I look away. “And what about family? Children? All that is possible for you.”
“If I survive this.”
“When you survive this,” I rebut stubbornly, despite the lump building in my throat.
Keita shrugs. “You’re the only one I’ve ever envisioned having them with,” he says quietly.
“Why?”The question rips out of my throat. “Why me? Why has it always been me?”
“Because you’re the only one who saw me after my family—” Keita clears his throat as if it’s suddenly clogged. Then he tries again. “After my family died, you were the only person who saw me—the real me, the person I was inside. Not Keita the warrior. Not Keita the jatu, or Keita the recruit. Or even Keita the noble. You saw Keita the boy. The one with feelings. The one who was real.”
He laughs, a sad little sound. “Oh, it was out of fear, at first, all that attention you paid to me. Perhaps even hatred. You thought I was out to destroy you. So you tried to maneuver around me. But you had to understand me to do so. And then, once you saw who I truly was, you tried to befriend me. The Keita inside, not the automaton they’d made me.”
He shrugs again. “My friends, everyone in the Warthu Bera, they only wanted my darkness, my thirst for violence. But you wanted my softness, my smiles. My heart. And you wanted all the other parts of me too—even the more sinister ones. You were the first person to want that in years. The first person since my family…”
He sighs. “That’s why it’s always been you. That’s why it’ll only ever be you.”
By now, a sob is rising from deep inside my chest. This declaration is all I’ve ever wanted to hear. Except now I know how much it’ll cost him. A life. A family. Children. I myself have never truly wanted any, but I can see how, with him, perhaps I would have. And now there’s no longer that option. But I don’t want to bring that up anymore, so I do the only thing I can do.
I kiss him.
Keita blinks, as if surprised, but then he swiftly accepts the kiss, his lips searing against mine. Sweet little flames, burning into my soul. His mouth tastes like fruits, like the cakes he’s been eating.
It tastes like home.
But then Keita is home. That’s what he’s been for me ever since that first moment we started regarding each other as allies instead of enemies.
“If this is one of our last few moments, I want to savor it,” I say between kisses. “I want to remember it forever.”
“Me too,” he says, lips pressing down on mine so firmly, I almost forget I haven’t told him the other thing I needed to tell him—the truth of the condition I need to fulfill in order to take back my kelai and ascend to divinity.
But that can come later. For now, there’s only this.
“Kiss me, Keita,” I urge against his lips. “Kiss me until I forget everything.”
“Just as long as you do the same,” he replies.
So I do just that.