Goddess Rising

There was something on his face; hunger or grief, perhaps. She could not begin to understand an obsession with a woman he had never met, but his obsession was clearly beyond reason.

She beat a retreat back to the issue that truly concerned her.

“Why tell me all this?” She asked. “I wanted my memories.”

He rose and, with a gesture, put the sheets over the murals again. The room seemed bland without them.

“I can’t find Ovi,” he said. “You are not her. But, I still want you to survive. So far, the greatest obstacle to that goal is you. You are rash and far more confident than you should be. You need less of that stupidity and more caution or you’ll walk into something no one returns from.

“I showed you think so you would understand how little you know. I have a plan. If you stop disrupting it, you can live a nice, appropriately-long life. If you don’t wish to do so, say so now and I’ll stop trying. Even I have limits to my generosity.”

She cocked her head. “Do these plans keep you from giving me back my memories?”

He hesitated, but eventually replied. “Yes.”

She nodded. Perhaps he was lying. There was no sign of it, but who could read Eri?

“So, you have a plan that is guaranteed to protect me, but requires you to keep me ignorant.”

He nodded, slightly apologetic. At least he saw the absurdity.

“I don’t care about your plan,” she said. “I care about my life. For all I know, your father has better plans than you.” The smell of fire, still pressed into the back of her mind, tried to force its way forward again. “So, you have one of two choices. You can return my memories and explain exactly and in convincing words how your plan works and why I should trust it. Or I can return all this energy you’ve given me and die.”

Achi shut his eyes and bit his lip in frustration. He took deep, even breaths as if steadying himself. It took a long time. Aria counted ten breaths before he opened his eyes again.

“I recommend neither of those paths,” he said.

“I don’t see why. They seem perfectly acceptable to me. I’ll count to ten.”

“You are being incredibly foolish.”

“Then you should just let me die. One.”

“Can you even contemplate how much I know that you don’t?”

“Two.”

“If I could share it, I obviously would.”

“Three.”

“Stop it.”

“Four.”

“Aria - ”

“Five”

“Of all the stupid -”

“Six”

“People I could choose to save - ”

“Seven”

“Why did it have to be you?”

“Eight.”

He glared at her, folded his arms, set his jaw, and waited.

“Nine”

Regret filled her. She did not know if she was making the right choice, but she knew that she was making the safest one. No major decision came without fear. You simply made the best choice you could with the information you had.

“Ten.” She took a breath and steadied herself. “I hope you find Ovi.”

She had already found the store of energy she was drawing from. It shone to her mental vision like a ball of light located at the center of her perception. For a moment, she considered doing something spectacular with it. She could expend it on a giant wave, create an explosion that leveled the entire forest, or create a tunnel to the center of the earth.

But there was no need to create destruction. She simply let out the energy all at once like a powerful exhalation.

Disappointment met Aria first then disillusionment and, finally, anger. She was alive and therefore out of options.

Achi was lying on the beach, partially buried in sand. His legs stretched out into the ocean so that part of him was on land and the other in water. When a wave sped toward him, he did not move. He let it wash over him, momentarily burying his whole body and soaking his already wet clothes.

Her body was gone and, as far as she could tell, she was bound to him again.

She sighed. “You tricked me.”

Achi blinked in surprise but composed himself a moment later. “Welcome back.”

There was more than a hint of sarcasm in the words but no other barbs followed them. He sounded tired. She inspected his body, finding herself more skilled at the task. There was no fever, but that could have been due to his chosen resting place. The only hint she had of illness was a general impression of weakness from him. He did not seem to be dying. He did not even seem particularly ill. What sort of poison could kill a god by causing only occasional fevers?

“What happened to my body?” She asked.

“My body,” he said. “It was a lot of work making it in the first place and a lot more work modifying it so that my father would not recognize it if he saw you in the future. I put it back. You can just live without a body. Every other ghost manages it.”

She did not know how to request it again. Clearly he would not return it.

“How did you stop me?”

“By using all the knowledge I have and you don’t, the knowledge you seem to think so small that you can just barge into palaces and attempt suicide right in front me.”

Aria wanted to tear her hair out, but she had none. Perhaps there was a way to detach herself from him, but he would not be sharing that. She would have to discover it by herself.

“How are you feeling?”

He seemed surprised by the question and that offended her. She was capable of basic kindness and showing it to someone who had her captive was commendable.

He muttered that he was fine - clearly a lie.

“You should go back home,” he said. “I’m sure your father misses you.”

He looked even more surprised by that statement.

“No,” he said, and she let the matter drop.

“What day is it?” She asked. With the middle realm lacking a sun, it was impossible to judge days with accuracy. It was bright enough to see, but that was all the hint she had.

“The 23rd of Rawi.”

It had been ten days since the statue. “Your notes, in your bedroom, they say that you’ll die on the 9th of Uya.” She waited for a response, but he said nothing. His face had grown somber at her words, however. She pressed on. “Is that true?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“You want to help me, Achi? Then you should know that I hate being led around like a stupid animal. Tell me what I need to know and I’ll make intelligent decisions based on that. Keep me in the dark and I’ll just find my way around in ways that you don’t like.”

“Alternatively,” he said. “You could accept your ignorance and let me help.”

She mentally dismissed him. The argument was pointless. As usual, she would simply have to rely on herself.

When she remained silent, he seemed to grow worried. Finally, he sighed and spoke. “That is the day the poison in my body will reach its maximum concentration. So, yes, that is when I will die. Assuming you don’t poison me again.”

She decided to see if his openness would continue.

“Why doesn’t your father heal you?” The answer was obvious, but she wanted to hear his response.

“He can’t. It’s beyond his ability.”

She waited to see if he would elaborate, but he did not. Another wave washed over him. He closed his eyes and mouth as it passed, somehow it seemed to relax him.

“You said he could do anything when you were in danger.”

“Not this.”

“Why not?”

He remained silent.

“Is there something I can do?”

He paused for too long. “Yes,” he said, finally, voice so soft it could barely be heard above the waves. “You can behave yourself. To protect you so far, I have lied to my father, stolen from him, and said cruel things to him. I am everything to him. Instead of comforting him, spending my last days with him, I am here hiding you. So, have whatever foolish thoughts you want but, when I am gone, try to have enough intelligence to keep yourself alive.”

I asked how to heal you.

His voice grew tiny. “And later, if you see him, if you can, take care of him.”

She had many colorful responses to that, but she kept them to herself. He was right that she was ignorant of many things. It meant something that such a powerful god could not heal his son. The odd behavior of his illness meant something. The very fact that he would die meant something. But this world was new to her. She wanted to save him, but she was no more capable of that than she was of defeating Tivelo.