Page 87 of Moon Chosen

“That the God is an empty statue and the Watchers have spent generations speaking for their own interests? Yes. I know.”

“Then what are you playing at, calling yourself Her Champion and saying that you are following Her voice?” Dove asked.

“Iplayat nothing. Iamgoing to lead those of the People who are worthy out of this City of disease and death, and into a new life. If I have to pretend at first that I am following a dead God, then so be it. The end will justify that one small deception.”

“Because you deceive for the good of the People, and not simply the good of yourself.”

“Ah, now I hear the Oracle. Did the God show you that?” he said sarcastically.

“No. My wits showed me that,” she said. “There is no God. There are only petulant, self-absorbed old women and the People they have controlled for generations.”

“Actually, Oracle, there are now only the People, you, and me. I have sent the petulant, self-absorbed old women to be with their dead God.”

She smiled. “I hoped so. I smelled their blood and heard their cries. And now I would like to ask you a question.”

“Ask,” Dead Eye said, feeling uncommonly intrigued by this eyeless girl.

Dove walked toward him slowly. Instead of being hesitant or awkward, her steps were languid. Every motion she made was precise. Her body moved with a raw sensuality that had Dead Eye’s stomach tightening with desire. She stopped within reaching distance of him.

“Is it true you absorbed the essence of a stag and that your skin sheds new, like a youngling?”

Dead Eye shrugged out of his blood-spattered shirt. “May I take your hand?” he asked her.

With no hesitation Dove offered him both of her hands, palms open. He took them, guiding her fingers over his thickly muscled arms and chest, allowing her to pause as she found the newly healed wounds where the stag’s flesh and his had knitted to form one.

“Incredible,” she whispered. “It is true.”

“And it can be the truth for our People as well,” Dead Eye said. “But not here. Not in this ruined City that is home to a dead God. We must leave this place and make a new City that isn’t tainted by centuries of disease.”

Her hands cupped his shoulders. Her eyeless face tilted up and he wondered at how he could find that face so expressive and so lovely.

“If you take me with you I will continue to speak for the God. I will reassure the People that it is Her will that we follow you, Her Champion. And I will begin by saying that the Reaper sent a vision to me showing Her dissatisfaction for what the Watchers had become, and calling for Her Champion to cull them from Her Temple.”

“The old women were cruel to you, weren’t they?” he asked softly.

Her head bowed and her long, dark hair swept forward, almost touching his naked chest.

“Until today, life has been cruel to me,” she said.

“Then from this day on, your Champion will protect you from the cruelties of life.”

It was as if his words had taken the breath from her. With a gasp, she went to her knees.

“Thank you, Champion,” she said reverently. “I am yours to command.”

“No,” he said, gently taking her hands again and guiding her up. “Between us there should be no artifices, no unneeded ceremony, no false worship. You will not bow to me. Ever.”

“But you are my Champion, and the Champion of the People. I wish only to show you the worship you deserve.”

“It is not your worship that I desire, my Dove,” he said.

Her sensual smile was back. “Tell me what it is you desire, Champion.”

“I would rather show you.”

Dead Eye took her into his arms and she did worship him, as fully and completely as his body worshipped hers.

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