Chapter 10

The old man looked up at Rhishandri imploringly. "Please ... I can serve you. I can spread your name, build a temple to your glory. There will be sacrifices-- whatever you want."

She sneered at him. "Why would I want that?" she asked, but Adara noticed the tiny, almost imperceptible widening of her eyes at the word 'sacrifices'.

The wizard seemed baffled by the question. "I ... isn't that what all gods want? I thought ... it would give you power?"

"How would I know?" she snapped.

"I ... you..." The wizard was obviously at a loss. "Whatever you wish, then, Lady," he said, finally. "If you don't wish sacrifices, how would you have us serve you? What do you demand of your worshipers?"

Rhishandri was looking angry again, and the old hedge wizard cringed back in fear. Before she could say anything, though, the man from the stable spoke unprompted for the first time. "Death. She feeds on death, death and blood. I have seen it." She turned to face him, snarling, and he didn't flinch. He just tilted his head back, exposing his throat, his eyes never leaving her, his face never losing its calm, accepting demeanor.

Adara cocked her head thoughtfully and lay a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You know, Rhi, he could be right," she said quietly, and Rhishandri's shoulders drew inwards.

She looked very young, right then— young and lost and afraid. "It ... it fits with what the bastard likely intended for me," she said hesitantly. "But ... to be a god of death, of blood ... what possible good could I be? What could I do but spread misery across the world? Better, then, had I fallen with my perverted creator."

"Sometimes, Lady, death can be a mercy," Conor said, very quietly. "And how you use the power you gain from it ... well, that would be up to you, wouldn't it now?"

Adara glanced at him, wondering if he were conscious of slipping out of his normal dialect, but could spare it no more thought than that right then. It was a dangerous moment; she knew, beyond a doubt, that the girl was on the edge of suicidal. It would take almost nothing to push her beyond it. So she chose her words with care, and accompanied them with a gentle hand laid against Rhi's cheek. "Imagine if there was no death-- if people just got older, weaker, sicker, but could never die," she said softly, looking down into the frightened green eyes.

Rhishandri bit her lower lip, tiny fangs raking across the soft pink flesh, and Adara could see the confusion and conflict within her reflected in her eyes. She was watching as understanding dawned, and saw the tenuous hope it brought as the girl nodded almost reluctantly. "I ... see, I think. But ... what about the real god of death, then?" she asked faintly. "How could I be ... that ... when Kirath already exists?" She swallowed hard, going a bit pale-- few were ever comfortable speaking of the Lord of Crows, for it was said that he heard every mention and favored those who did so with his personal attentions.

Adara had no answer for her, having little knowledge of gods and, up to now, even less interest in them.

The wizard, though, despite his obvious fear, seemed determined to serve her in any way he could ... even if that meant giving her answers she requested but did not truly want to hear. "Goddess, I ... I am not sure ... not sure that he still does. Or any of the others. Please, Lady, you may be the only one left."

She glanced upwards as if expecting a lightning bolt to spear through the ramshackle roof. "You speak dangerous words, wizard!" she hissed.

He nodded, clasping his old hands together in an attempt to stop their trembling. "Yes, Goddess, but I swear to you, I believe and fear them to be true. My brother ... my brother was a Healer. He worshiped Javat, and was granted great miracles of healing. B-but th-then..." His voice quavered as she looked at him, and he had to lick dry lips before he could continue. "Then they just stopped; his prayers were not answered, no matter how he begged or what offerings he made. He ... he turned to other gods, hoping to regain his lost power, but none answered." He bowed his head, his eyes fixed on the floor. "He took his own life in grief," he whispered, "believing that some great catastrophe had befallen them all. Other priests have done the same, or worse, these past months. People have destroyed temples, too, and stoned 'false' priests in the street. The gods answer no more, Lady, none of them."

Rhishandri stared at him, her expression wavering between shocked disbelief and horror, but Adara's mind was following a different path entirely. If the priests— all of the priests— were suddenly powerless, then most likely the gods were, indeed, gone. Dead. Gods didn't just die. If they were dead, then something had killed them. Something that could kill ancient, powerful gods could likely wipe the floor with one scared, inexperienced baby goddess! A chill ran down her spine and she frowned. "What could kill all the gods?" she asked harshly, not expecting any useful answer, but unable to stop herself from asking.

The wizard shook his head. "I don't know that they were killed," he said. "Perhaps they just abandoned us. Perhaps their time had simply passed. Or perhaps they are trapped somewhere. But ... here She is, alive and real." He turned worshipful eyes to Rhishandri, his voice taking on a tone of awe. "The most important thing in the world."

The object of his devotion shook her head and frowned irritably. "I'm still not sure I believe any of this. Perhaps you're just insane. Do whatever you want, I don't care."

"What if it's true, Rhi?" Adara asked quietly.

"I ... I don't know." She looked up at Adara miserably. "I don't know what I should do. Should I tell him to build a temple and ... and ... kill ... people ... for ... me--" Her words came slower and slower, until they broke off entirely as she closed her eyes and shuddered, and Adara could see her pulse beating frantically at her throat. Rhi shook her head, and when she opened her eyes they were tinged with gold. "Just because I might be some sort of ... of goddess?"

Adara wondered again if the girl could ever learn to accept her new nature, and tried to think of some way to make it easier for her. "Well ... must they be killed for you?" she asked thoughtfully. "Or if ... what if they were already dying, only now it's blessed by your priests and ... made quicker and cleaner. You make their passing more comfortable, and in exchange, their deaths are dedicated to you." It seemed like a reasonable enough suggestion. She would certainly prefer a fast death to a painful, lingering illness.

"I don't know! 'More comfortable'? The people I've ... fed from ... they didn't die comfortably. The violence seemed to ... to enhance it." Rhi looked down, blushing. "I don't understand what happened with ... that last man," she whispered, so that only Adara could hear, then looked up and raised her voice again. "And what if I get nothing from some ... priest, I guess ... doing something far from me? Then their lives are wasted."

Adara looked down at her, thinking of the last attacker, the one whose death-- and the effect it had-- seemed to disturb the girl the most, even though she hadn't touched him at all herself. "Actually," she said, slowly, "If you feed on blood and death ... how does it feel when you feed on my blood?"

Another blush, bright this time, and Rhi licked her lips nervously. "Good. Very good. Satisfying. It doesn't give the ... the 'rush' that death does, but it's still ... intense."

"So if you combine that with death, then of course it's better."

Rhishandri looked up at her, frowning slightly. "So ... death alone might also ... satisfy me? I guess that's possible," she said thoughtfully. "But I'm not sure how to test it, though."

"It worked when I killed the man for you in the stable," Adara said. "And there was no violence there. Admittedly, it could have been the way I killed him, but..." Her voice trailed off and she shrugged.

Rhishandri blushed again, ducking her head and hiding behind the fall of her hair. "But if someone is dying, anyway, then would there actually be any life to ... ah... 'take'? This is so confusing. I don't ... I don't like being this way. But I don't want to die, either." She looked up at Adara pleadingly for a moment, and then turned her face away, her eyes filled with shame. "If it's their lives or mine, I choose theirs. I guess that makes me a dark god."

"I don't see why."

Rhi glanced at her, then quickly looked away again. "I'll kill to survive. I value my own life more than others ... most others. And I ... I will enjoy it. I already have. Nothing has ever felt so good as their deaths."

Adara shrugged. "I killed to survive earlier. Conor here has done it on a regular basis, too-- that's what being a soldier is all about."

"If someone is trying to kill you, I understand. But the men who were helpless were no danger to me."

Reaching out, Adara cupped her chin and gently turned Rhi's face to look at her. "They forfeited their lives when they attacked us. They knew they could die when they did it."

Her lower lip trembled, but Rhishandri met her eyes without trying to look away. "I don't know what I think about that, yet," she admitted softly, and Adara watched as she took a deep breath and her jaw firmed with new determination. "But it's my problem, and I'll learn to deal with it. If I have to kill to live, I'll do it."

Adara smiled slightly, relieved. "Good." Making that decision to live was the important part. Once that was made, everything else became easier. It wouldn't happen instantly, but the girl would come to accept her new life. It would take a bit of time, but Adara would see that she had it. She wasn't entirely sure how and why or even exactly when it had come to matter that much to her, but it had. Hmm, perhaps... She ran her thumb softly over Rhi's lips before letting go of her chin and turning to face the old man, a bemused look on her face. "You called me 'priestess', didn't you?"

He nodded. "Yes. Given the bond between the two of you, it is the only term that's suitable."

Beside her, Rhishandri winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ... to ... whatever I did to do it," the girl said guiltily, and Adara shook her head.

"It's fine. I'm just ... surprised. Not your typical candidate."

The kneeling man spoke again, his tone soft, "You killed for her."

Adara cocked her head thoughtfully. "I did. That it then?"

"It could be," the wizard said hesitantly. "If her power stems from death, then killing for her would be an act of worship, equaled only by dying for her. If you were also the first to ... feed her ... and she truly is new, then that could very well create such a bond, particularly if she finds your company pleasing."

"More pleasing than yours!" Rhishandri hissed, her cheeks bright with embarrassment and anger. "I fed first on the bastard who made me. I feel no such bond for him, I assure you!"

"He's dead, though, darlin'," Conor said soothingly. "Not makin' any sacrifices to anyone, now is he?"

Her nose wrinkled in distaste, and she shrugged. "Whatever. How do I free her from it then?"

"Do you need to?" Adara asked.

"Don't you want me to?"

Adara shrugged. "Not really."

Rhishandri stared up at her in shock. "Why not?"

That was a good question. She wasn't entirely sure, herself. She just ... didn't want her to. It wasn't something she would ever have said she'd accept willingly, but now that it was already done, she found that she didn't mind in the least. She could give no logical answer for that, though, so she just shrugged again. "It's not hurting me."

The girl wasn't that easily satisfied, however. "It's an invasion, an imposition," she insisted indignantly. "What if it hurts you? He said I could ... could drain you, somehow. I could hurt you."

"You haven't so far." Adara gave her a little smile. "Besides, I'm sure that being linked to a goddess has its benefits."

The wizard was nodding rapidly. "Oh yes. It could. It should. But it means that her enemies are yours, as well."

Adara grinned, shrugging once more. "It's probably too late to avoid that, anyway. Besides, I couldn't just desert her."

Rhishandri stared at her, frowning, obviously wondering but not quite asking, 'why not?' The wizard didn't notice, though, as he continued, "In any event, such things cannot be undone, not without the death of one or the other. That's how my brother realized his god was dead; he was able to offer his oath to another."

"That's that, then," Adara said firmly, and Rhishandri looked guiltily at the floor.

"I'll do whatever I can to ensure that you do not suffer for it," the girl said softly. "One act of kindness shouldn't be repaid by a life of slavery."

Adara looked down at her with one eyebrow raised. "I don't exactly feel like a slave."

Rhi jerked her head towards the man kneeling in the corner. "He does. And I don't know how it happened, so I don't know how to stop it."

"That's easy," Adara said, with a grin. "He said he'd do anything if you spared him, and you accepted."

Rhishandri looked up at her, surprised. "That simple?"

Adara looked to the wizard for confirmation, and he nodded. "People should be careful what promises they make to real gods. They are forever binding."