Page 3 of The Isles of the Gods
“There was a guard outside my quarters,” I murmur. “He lent me his cloak so I could sneak out into the city, and I gave him wise advice on wooing his sweetheart. I hope he used it.”
“I hope he did.”
“I liked Queen Mirisal,” I say quietly, glancing across at where Barrica still stands motionless. “She used to laugh with Valus—they teased each other endlessly. I wondered at the time if he made her so carefree, and Barrica made me a soldier, or if we just happened to be suited to our roles.”
“I Did Not Make You a Warrior, Anselm.”
I’m never able to describe Barrica’s voice when I’m not in her presence. Sometimes I think it’s musical, other times like a chorus speaking together. But neither of us is particularly surprised when she turns toward us and crosses the clearing. She can hear us whenever she wants. She only looks—sort of—like one of us. That doesn’t mean she’s like us.
Galen’s never quite gotten accustomed to being in her presence, and he drops his gaze now, though I look up into the face of the goddess we both serve.
“No?”
“I Am the Frame Upon Which the Vine May Grow.”
“Meaning you provided direction?”
“Yes. But There Were Many Paths You Might Have Taken.”
She sinks to sit cross-legged before us, impossibly graceful. She moves like a predator, but I’ve never felt unsafe around her. My faith—the faith of all her people—is what strengthens her.
That’s what tomorrow is about.
My sacrifice will strengthen my goddess, and she’ll bind her brother Macean in sleep so he can never make war again. And then she and her other siblings will step back from our world, and no longer walk among us.
Barrica the Warrior will become the Sentinel. She’ll leavethe door ajar and watch over her brother as he sleeps, to make sure he stays where he was bound. Make sure the god of risk’s final gamble has truly failed. Perhaps sometimes she’ll answer a prayer, or bless her people, but these times of easy conversation will be gone forever.
“Forever Is a Long Time, Anselm,”Barrica says, interrupting my thoughts. She’s always been able to pull them from my mind, but it’s never bothered me. I give her my faith, and she gives me a solid place to stand.
I can’t imagine what it will be like for all of them when she’s gone, but few know her as I do. They won’t miss her as I would.
“True enough, Goddess.”
“And Perhaps Tomorrow Will Not Be as You Imagine.”
I cast her a pleading look, and she drops the subject, inclining her head as she rises. She stands before me, as beautiful as ever. I’ve never been able to remember what color her eyes are when I look away, but now I see they’re as blue as the sea around us.
She offers me her hand, and a shiver of her power runs through me as she pulls me to my feet.
Slowly, the three of us begin to pick our way down the jungle path to where the ship is moored, for our last meal. I doubt I’ll sleep tonight, but it will be good to watch the stars. The skies are clear, here in the Isles.
I really hope Galen remembers to look after the blackbirds. They need someone to keep an eye on them.
Five hundred andoneyears later…
PART ONE
GLITTER AND GRIT
SELLY
Royal Hill
Kirkpool, Alinor
The woman selling magicians’ supplies is wandering around her little market stall like she’s lost her map. It’s as if every item she encounters, from the stacks of fat green candles to the bins of bright glass beads and stones, is somehow a new discovery.
“You said half a dozen candles?” She pauses to look over her shoulder and needlessly tighten her apron strings. She’s dragging things out in the hope something extra will catch my eye, but although the grim, anxious buzz of the city has sunk into my bones, I am not going to lose my temper. I don’t have time.
