Chapter 7 #2
The warrior priestess made a parting motion with her hands, and the floor slid open, revealing stairs down into the heart of the temple.
She guided Elysia down the bone-white steps until they exited into a torch-lit hallway.
Eventually, they entered a large dining hall filled with long wooden tables and benches.
Many of the people who had participated in the ceremony were already seated, still in their face paint and digging into food.
“Sit.” The warrior directed Elysia before walking off, only to return a minute later with steaming mugs of broth and a basket of rolls.
Tall and sturdy with obvious muscle lining her arms and tight, twisting braids adorning her head, the priestess looked like she spent more time sparring than praying. She held out a warm deep brown hand, offering Elysia a mug before sliding onto the bench across from her.
“So, you’re her.” She appraised Elysia with intelligent, watchful eyes.
Elysia didn’t respond at first. Based on what had just happened above, the priestesses likely had certain expectations that she had no desire to be held to.
Gripping the hot cup of broth, she answered bluntly. “If you want to think so, be my guest. What I know is that I made a deal with a god in hopes of saving my kingdom from his mistakes.”
“You scorn fate so easily.”
Elysia barely refrained from rolling her eyes. The fates this, the fates that. “My people don’t have gods. We don’t have fates. Only their consequences.”
At that the woman smiled. “I’m Nia.”
“Head meela?”
Nia nodded, still looking Elysia over like she was going to discover a secret, or maybe a more suitable option for their god.
“I’m responsible for the temple and the people who inhabit it.
How strange that the fates-chosen mortal would be from a kingdom where you’ve been taught nothing of the gods.
Your stories lost and magic dried up like wasted grapes. ”
Ignoring her comment, Elysia let her gaze run over the walls of the dining hall, carved and painted with figures and glyphs. Her natural curiosity came out, and she tipped her head at the art. “Are those the stories of the past gods of the dead?”
The careful etchings and rich paint ignited an unexpected wisp of longing in her chest. She didn’t necessarily wish she had grown up with gods or religion, but maybe she did wish Kavians had something that connected them beyond their own flesh and blood to the world and divinity that ran through all things.
Beyond that, a people who didn’t know who they were or where they came from were a weak, unstable thing.
The loss of ancestral knowledge and practices cut them off in a strange, inhuman way from both the natural and spiritual world.
Nia smiled fondly at the walls. “They are love stories. Stories of life and death. Stories that stick to your bones and revive your spirit.”
Walking over to the wall, Nia took a moment to run her fingers over the textured art before speaking. She pointed to a faded drawing in the center. All the other stories crowded out from this piece as if they were its offspring.
“The first god of the dead. He saw the mortals with their hopes and their passions and desires. He saw how they hoped yet lost course again and again. His heart was struck by this plight. How the dead would come through his land with their regrets and soul-deep aches.”
Her fingers traced down to a sealed scroll.
“He began offering deals to mortals. Assistance for their paths. But as can happen with gods, he often lost sight of what truly mattered to these mortals, what had drawn him to their plight in the first place, and he began to offer deals to whoever could offer payment. The god of the dead, no matter who it is, always has a certain affinity for wealth…”
She returned to the table to finish the story. “Wealth to a certain degree may be neutral, but the methods, the godly hubris—that’s where the problems came in. But temples were being built and payments were flowing.”
“What went wrong?” Elysia sipped her broth, listening intently.
Nia smiled wryly. “As you know, all it takes is one bad deal for consequences of catastrophic proportions to occur.”
Elysia’s face must have given her away because Nia laughed, a short hoarse sound from her chest. “Yes, all the gods of the dead seem to have a few things in common. But I’m telling you this story because it’s why you are here now.”
Elysia raised her eyebrows, waiting.
“The first god of the dead made a deal with a mortal man that led to the mortal’s death.
A terrible deal—the kind young mortals ask for when their desperation for change outweighs their sense.
His sister was far more cunning. She came to strike her own deal and brought with her an offering of tea.
The god of the dead drank the tea only to realize she’d tried to poison him.
She’d been bold enough to believe she could kill the one who rules over the dead with mortal herbs. ”
Nia grinned, clearly loving this part of the story. “That’s the kind of gumption that wins gods and starts wars.”
“But did she kill him?” She glanced at the wall, thinking the recipe might be useful.
“Of course not! Gods are not so easily killed. Something you ought to remember. But the poison did weaken him enough that he made a deal for its antidote.”
Elysia recounted the story in her head, trying to keep up. “And that deal impacts me now?”
“Correct. The deal was that the god of the dead would never rule alone again. He would be tempered by a mortal with limits to his power.”
“And he agreed to that because…?” Elysia was starting to question if any of these men had ever cut a winning deal before.
Nia made a soft noise of agreement. “There are theories. The most common being that the fates became intrigued and intervened.”
Elysia paused, remembering what Aidan had said about the fates and the damper on his power. “Right, that’s where the talisman comes in then. More meddling of the fates.”
She stared into her mug, soaking in this new information.
So, Aidan was after the mortal counterpart required of him as god of the dead along with the talisman.
Lifting her gaze, she spoke from her gut.
“I’m not her, I won’t be her. I’m a mortal who wants the god who fucked up her kingdom to fix it.
If he believes I’m the mortal to his god, then he should’ve made a better deal, but he didn’t.
All I’ve agreed to is finding a talisman. ”
Nia responded with infuriating calm. “Then you have nothing to worry about. Find the talisman and be on your way.”
Elysia eyed her. “You wouldn’t have a map, would you?”
Grinning, Nia started eating from a small board of cured meats and cheese. Between bites, she asked a pointed question. “If you could overlook the deal that wrecked your home, what’s your take on him?”
Elysia flushed, covering her mouth as she spoke around her food. “Overconfident and annoying.”
Nia’s chiseled cheeks curved in amusement. “That all?”
Frowning, she chewed her food. It hadn’t been long, but so far, he’d spent most of his time in his office, working and scribbling in his ledgers. When he wasn’t busy looking worried, his attention was heavy on her, his communication blunt with a heated edge.
“Unexpected,” she grunted begrudgingly.
“Aidan is unique amongst the gods. He tends to those who have passed. Makes deals with the living to align broken fates, or at least he used to. He’s far more aware of mortal realities than most of the gods who dip in and out of their lives.”
Elysia waved a chunk of bread. “You don’t need to do this. The whole talking up your boss bit—it’s just like I told him. I’m committed to my job, my kingdom, and that’s it.”
Nia continued evenly. “He is also stubborn and terrifyingly powerful even when limited. He can dry the life from the most succulent of beings. He may be god of the dead, but he carries the weight of death within him. It’s not a weight meant to be borne alone.”
Elysia dusted her hands off. “Well, I guess he better start dating then. Is this all I’m here for? I have things to do.” Irritation had her eyes flicking to the exit. She’d been initiated, so if this was just going to be ten reasons to date the god of the dead, then she was ready to leave.
“You’ve never been in a temple before in your life and you don’t have any questions?”
She’d gotten drunk and smashed a bottle against Aidan’s skull temple in Relaclave—didn’t that count? She pushed her empty mug away. Fine. “Aren’t you bored here? You don’t seem like the priestess type.”
Nia’s gaze homed in on the new, angry branding nestled in the hollow of Elysia’s throat with recognition in her eyes.
“I’ve retired into this position and was specifically brought on for my skill set.
” She looked back up, speaking wryly. “You’re sorely mistaken if you think there is anything boring about managing an underground temple full of women and folks who are obsessed with death of all things. ”
Elysia grinned in spite of herself. “Do you mean to say temples have assassins? Wouldn’t that fall under Grim’s work?”
“Grim and Aidan work closely together. This is as much Grim’s temple as it is Aidan’s.” Nia’s focus slipped, her knowing gaze heavy on the fresh burn still tingling Elysia’s skin. “Wish I could be a fly on the wall when our god sees that.”
Elysia sniffed, her shoulders drawing tight and her back straightening at the implication. As if she gave a rat’s furry ass what that man thought about her ensuring her own protection. “He’s the reason I needed it, so whatever his grievances may be, he can shove them wherever he’d like.”
Nia’s eyebrows rose.
“And if this is his grand plan—sending me to chitchat with his priestesses about his many wonderful attributes, then I think we’re all going to be waiting a very, very long time for me to find the talisman.”
“I’d send you away too if I had to deal with your shit attitude all day.”