Prologue

Iridescent scales glinted from deep in the shadows, though their actual hue remained obscured in the cave’s blackness. “You’re not like the others.”

His tail stretched toward me, and he spoke in a rumbling whisper, causing my vision to shake with its pitch. “I could incinerate you with a single breath.” Noxious gasses cascaded from huge jowls, filling my lungs with his irritation. The haze lingered, and I waited for his theatrics to dissipate before speaking again.

“You could, but then you wouldn’t know why I sought you.” His breathing was slow and steady, but he did not respond, so I continued. “A new era is coming, and we need your help to protect our share.”

“Yet, you are not part of the we.” His tone was laden with distrust. But his response was typical.

“It’s not my time.” The necessary and obvious contradiction was a well-worn discussion among the others.

A flame ignited within him, heating the air as he spoke. “Then why should I trust your words?”

“Because the rest trust me.” I placed my hands on my hips, waiting for his next move.

“I care not what they do. Tell me how you arrived here, and perhaps I’ll consider your request.”

Our introduction had gone smoother than anticipated, and I had a hunch my next words would either unlock a step forward or send me back several paces. “A seer—”

“Stop,” he interrupted. “How you found me is of no consequence. Unveil who you are through story.” His enormous mass shifted, turning and curving until his red eyes emerged and his head rested on the ground.

His request wasn’t something I had considered, but I acquiesced to aid in furthering our negotiation. “I was born in the coastal realm of Nadur.”

“Oh, fuck no. I don’t care about your childhood.” Though his dismissal of my youth stung, he spoke with a softer tone, as if he were readying for a long tale. “Start with something interesting.”

If he didn’t want the whole story, then there was only one other logical place to begin. “I wasn’t always a goddess, but I’ll tell you how it happened.”

Chapter One

I died, and it was fantastic. A peaceful, splendid completeness overcame me, and I became enraptured with it. But time has no meaning in that place of nothingness, so I’m not sure how long it lasted. Others have asked me if I saw lights or had an out-of-body experience, like I was floating off while looking down at my mortal body, but that’s not how it was.

There was just a painless nothing, and I mean the “nothing” kind of nothingness, like being deep inside a cave when your torch goes out. It was quiet, black oblivion perfected. I wasn’t cold or warm; in fact, I didn’t feel a thing. I was just consciousness floating in a void. But it didn’t last, and the next thing I knew, the pain hit me.

A heartbeat ruined the peaceful nothingness, and my body screamed. I convulsed as racking jolts of electric shocks awakened sleeping nerves. Needles prickled down my spine. Muscles cramped, and I flailed, scraping across gravel, ripping at ragged flesh.

I pushed up, searing my palms. Blazing air scalded open wounds. My diaphragm shuddered and flexed. I needed to breathe, but nothing came until nausea overwhelmed me.

My innards lurched, and warm splashes covered my hands. I heaved and choked, thinking I’d die again, but then the darkness parted. Golden rings moved across a gray fog and tears burst from my eyes as my sight returned. My hands were cooked, my stomach cracked open, my thighbone exposed.

At first, I thought I’d been denounced, cast down with the heretics to burn in the eternal chasm. The sky overhead was dark, yet all around me it was like daylight amid a raging inferno. My clothing had been incinerated and my body was a charred slab of meat. I was nothing more than a naked husk left to rot.

I grasped a small boulder and dragged myself upright, only to find that I hadn’t traveled more than a stone’s throw. I’d seen the start of the attack, and the outcome was as expected. Utter obliteration. However, the remains of Tathana’s palace were unmistakable. Collapsed archways and shattered columns lay splattered across cracked tiles. Huge beams spawned fiery cyclones that tickled the sky.

My goddess was gone. Her grand palace had been reduced to piles of crumbling stone and burning timber. I expected mounds of death, heaps of my friends and fellow Nadurian’s dumped on a pyre, but not a bone or a shred of cloth remained.

Fire was consuming everything as far as I could see, and the city of Nadur had been reduced to rubble, a burned-out shell of its former glory. Beyond the pitted, ruined foundations, sprawling hillsides of ancient hardwoods lay toppled. Their naked branches were like smoldering fingers grasping for death, and in my tortured, pain-ridden state, I wanted to join them.

But my thighbone retreated inside my leg, and the skin sealed over it. Screaming nerves were calming, and the pain was subsiding. Even my dense, overcooked flesh was healing, and crusty ashes were flaking off my limbs.

Hard nubs appeared in my nail beds, growing into fingernails. Hair sprouted on my head, unfurling into long black curls. I ran my fingers across my body, caressing smooth, blemish-free skin. I took a cautious step forward, testing my leg, but found the bone healed and pain free. My body was restored and yet improved, leaving old injuries behind in my former self.

The realization that I was healing faster than humanly possible struck me. I became infuriated, convinced I’d been damned, and I shouted, screaming profanities at Maethon for cursing me. But the utterance of sacrilege against the gods caught in my throat, and I fell to my knees. Enraged, tears streamed from my eyes and I roared like an undead lioness.

I wiped my cheeks and spotted her insignia. Tathana may have died, but her mark stayed with me. The twisting, intricate patterns embedded in my forearm proved my allegiance, my unwavering, undying dedication to my goddess. Without her, I was forsaken. A heathen no other god would accept.

I moved among the palace’s remains, taking it in. The way things had been was still fresh in my mind, and with each step, a new memory sprang forth. Earlier in the day, pink cherry blossoms had decorated the court’s floor. The little flowers floated down through open archways, flittering and twirling to the ground, decorating spring in nature’s delight. It was my favorite time of year in Nadur. Tree-lined walkways were decorated in lush green. Sweet odors of pollen bringing forth the gift of plentiful abundance. Nadur was a perfect coastal paradise for a perfect goddess.

A muffled thumping noise drew me across the court’s wreckage. Hot coals crunched underfoot, singeing my skin, yet I did not waver. After several steps, my feet encountered a slope that didn’t belong, and I stepped down into a depression, a cavity at the center of Tathana’s grand palace. The carved-out area was a new addition, a feature that seemed to be a result of the attack, and it caused me to pause. Black streaks splayed out from this point. I was at the epicenter of the explosion, the spot where Maethon unleashed his might, vaporizing Tathana.

A man’s voice distracted me. “Help. Can you hear me? Is anyone there?” The voice sounded familiar, yet strained, weakened. It was coming from the far end of the court, and for a moment, I was elated at the prospect of another survivor until I considered the predicament.

“Who’s in there?”

“It’s me, Jes. Can you get me out?”

“No, I don’t think I can.”

I wasn’t sure who Jes was, but the voice was emanating from inside Tathana’s court chest. It was the shape of an enormous rectangular bathtub, magically crafted from solid stone. Its thick granite top took less than a snap of Tathana’s fingers to open it, but without her, I would need a team with hoists, and pulleys. Whoever was inside the chest had been spared the ashen fate of my brethren yet would soon die trapped in a stone sarcophagus.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m just considering the situation. There’s no one else. I’m alone.”

A defeated whimper came from the chest. “Oh.”

I could hear desperation in his voice, and I wasn’t sure what to do next. Even if I wanted to help, there was nothing to pry with. Every bit of wood was on fire or smoldering; all the armor and weapons had been melted into shiny blobs.

“I’m going to die in here, aren’t I?”

“Death isn’t so bad, you know.” It sounded more appealing with every passing moment.

In a desperate plea, Jes moaned, “Please try something, anything.”

“How do I know you’re who you say you are?”

“I assure you it’s me, Jes, our divine mistress’s truth sayer. Can you get me out of here?”

“You don’t sound like yourself.” I still wasn’t confident who he was. His voice was weak and small like he was speaking through strained vocal cords.

“It’s the result of Tathana’s spell. She stuffed me in here after I made an observation about Maethon’s shoe size.”

People in my position did not fraternize with Tathana’s courtiers, but no one else would be bold enough to insult a god. It had to be my goddess’s court jester. “Ah, that Jes,” I muttered. “Be patient, I have to figure this out.”

The fires’ intensity was waning, darkness was encroaching, but the orange glow of millions of embers pulsing in the breeze illuminated the area. I grasped a head-sized stone from a piece of a fallen archway. It appeared solid, but was lightweight, and I wondered if it was hollow. With a hard thrust, I smashed it into the edge of the chest’s lid, chipping away a walnut-sized piece. Encouraged, I grasped a larger stone, and raised it overhead. I leaped into the air, soaring higher than seemed reasonable, and slammed the stone onto the chest, cracking the lid in two, leaving a wide gap in its center.

“Perfect. I’m going to crawl out. This is great!” After a long pause, Jes continued. “What happened?”

But I was so distracted by my body I didn’t look at him. Cracking the chest open was the first physical feat I’d completed since my resurrection. In the fire of my rebirth, I’d become leaner and stronger. “I don’t know; I didn’t see it.” But I knew that wasn’t the truth, I just didn’t want to think about it. “Did you?”

“No, I had a sense something was coming. It was in Maethon’s eyes, that’s why I toyed with him. I was trying to get Tathana to dismiss me, but I never imagined he’d do this.”

Toned muscles rippled beneath thin skin on my arms and legs. The stone I threw wasn’t hollow, and I wasn’t weak. The jump I took while carrying such a load would have been near impossible for the largest strongman, but I did it with my slender frame.

“High priestess, why are you naked?”

Jes’s question caused my mind to snap back into my role, and I lowered my gaze. “I do not know. I awoke lying on the ground close to the palace.” But I did not want to answer his questions. What I wanted was a mirror to ensure I didn’t have the face of a demon. I knew I wasn’t a god, but whatever I had become, I wasn’t normal anymore. I was damned to live, to endure the endless pain of life without a god, without purpose. My rebirth among the inferno of my city was a curse, I was convinced of it.

“Well, I shall do my best to avert my eyes,” Jes cooed.

“Don’t bother. There’s no one left to care.” I turned, giving him a full frontal view. I’d been so distracted by the change in my body that I hadn’t noticed the thin black cat pacing across the chest’s cracked lid. He was a scrawny little thing and seemed more like a long, emaciated kitten than a full-grown cat.

“Alright, I’ll try not to stare.”

Either I was hallucinating or somehow the voice was coming from the cat. “Since you’re looking, please tell me I’m not hideous?”

“You look amazing.”

“Tathana turned you into a cat?” I asked, noticing that Jes was indeed staring at me, scanning my figure with his bright yellow eyes.

“Well, it’s not the first time I’ve been transfigured. At least you can understand me. Every other time, people just tell me to stop mewing. So far, only the gods have been able to understand me when I’m like this. Tathana always thought it was funny, and she’d have a good laugh before changing me back.”

I turned away from Jes, and muttered to myself. “Well shit, now I’m talking to cats.”

“Could be worse, you know, you could be dead.”

“Being dead was better than this.” I began to leave, and Jes leaped from the chest, following me across the glowing coals. “We need to go in case Maethon returns, and I need clothes.”

Jes howled in pain, sounding very catlike. “Wait, help, I can’t walk across this.”

I’d thought Jes could be helpful before discovering he was a cat, but leaving him to fend for himself was beginning to sound more appealing. Besides, among Tathana’s priestesses, cats were believed to be troublesome halfling’s whose souls were trapped between the living and dead. But I reconsidered because Jes had been human earlier in the day. Without Tathana’s magic, he was stuck in the form of a cat. I grabbed his torso and tucked him under my arm.

“If you put me on your shoulders, you’ll have both hands free, but carrying me like this will probably slow you down.”

“Fine,” I said, grabbing Jes’s legs, wrapping his abdomen around my neck, wearing him like a fluffy black neck warmer. Cursed or not, the fires were dying, and a damp coastal breeze was moving in.

“I don’t know how you’re walking on those coals.”

“I’m cursed. My burns are healing between steps.”

“That doesn’t sound like a curse to me.”

I turned to look at Jes’s whiskered face. “Being torn from the peace of death and returning to this torment doesn’t seem like a curse?”

Jes rolled onto his chest, pulling away from my neck, cooling my skin, “But if Maethon killed everyone, where are the bodies?”

“Ashes. He must have vaporized them.”

“Lyla’s gone. I hope it was painless.”

“Who was Lyla?”

“My girlfriend, but if I’m stuck as a cat, it wouldn’t have worked anyway. She didn’t deserve to die, though.”

“All my girls in the priesthood too, and I’ll never see my friend Taryn again. She always had a dirty joke and was such a talented dancer.”

I heard Jes sniffle and his voice changed, going lower into a whisper, like he was sharing a secret. “I heard it happen from inside the chest. Maethon and Tathana were arguing. He wanted to take something from her. She accused him of being mad, saying he’d lost his mind, that the gods had formed a pact, and he was breaking the covenant. Maethon laughed, and Tathana screamed. There was a flash of light so bright it shone through the chest.”

I hadn’t had time to think it through. Everything was fuzzy. I was trying to recall what happened as I talked. “I was just outside the court when it started. Tathana had told us to leave, but I backtracked and peeked through a gap in the doors. Maethon’s hands were raised toward Tathana, and she had a bright white spot glowing in the middle of her chest. She made eye contact with me and that’s the last thing I remember.”

“Afterward, the ground shook, and I heard screaming for what seemed like ages. Then, everything went silent until I heard you.”

“So he did it then; Maethon killed Tathana.”

“And Lyla, all your priestesses, and everyone else.”

“Maethon should die for this,” I muttered. But the uttering of another sacrilege against the gods caused a well of guilt to catch in my throat. I pushed it down and held my tongue, hoping Jes hadn’t heard me. Neither of us spoke as we left the palace, crossing the remains of Nadur.

Chapter Two

Earlier in the day, I’d been singing a prayer for Tathana while walking through town, admiring the bright blue sky, enjoying the cool spring air, taking in the natural perfumes of flowering vines that sprawled between ancient buildings.

But in the aftermath of Maethon’s attack, Nadur had been transformed, burned and blackened. Homes and shops lay in ruins. Broken stones littered the streets. Ashes from thatch roofs floated in the breeze, glowing as they disappeared into the darkness. Tears leaked from my eyes as we passed.

Jes whispered, “If Tathana’s dead and everyone’s gone, we can drop the pretenses, can’t we?”

“I guess,” I said, but I wasn’t sure what pretenses he was referring to. As a high priestess, it was not normal for me to interact with Tathana’s courtiers. Regardless of what had happened to our city, a sense of duty preoccupied my mind.

“Well, tall, dark, and curvy, what’s your name?” Jes said with a smooth delivery as if he’d practiced the line a thousand times.

“High priestess.”

“Ah, cut the crap. What’d your mother call you?”

Everyone in the priesthood knew about my mother, and nobody ever asked me about her. “Arleia,” I said, though I wasn’t sure why I answered him at all. My emotions were numb and I was still processing what had happened. The day’s losses had me in a strange state, and I spoke truth as if it were the only thing I could say. “It means promise. My mother promised she’d always be there to protect me. She was a high priestess, too, but Tathana sacrificed her during the ceremony of the dual moons. I was four then. Afterward, I began training to take my mother’s place.”

“At least you had a name. The only names I’ve ever known were the titles of my positions. Jes is just short for Jester. I was called Sweep before.” He giggled. It was a shallow fake laugh, and I didn’t react. He continued, “Ah, come on, Arleia, did they beat a sense of humor out of ya?”

Jes yelped as I grabbed his tail, hyperextending it. “Touch my breast again, and I’ll tear the damn thing off.”

“My apologies. That was in poor taste.”

I threw Jes to the ground. There was no reason to carry him any farther. We’d moved off the hot coals littering the streets and ascended a hill.

“Where are we going?” he asked, bobbing along beside me.

“An underground armory. I doubt Maethon knew about it.”

“No, I meant after you find clothes. Where are we going when we leave here?”

“I’ll throw myself at Kirill’s feet and beg forgiveness for being alive.”

“You think that’s the best idea?”

“He is the fairest of the other gods. Kirill’s victories are legendary and his people adore him.” I wasn’t going to admit it to Jes, but proximity was also a driving factor. We’d have to pass through Kirill’s realm to reach Balmorin anyway. Whereas venturing to Rovitt’s or Lilra’s realm would require months of travel.

“Sticking to the script, are we?”

Jes’s questioning was an insult to my commitment, my duty, and everything I stood for. “I am forsaken, nothing more than a worthless heathen, a high priestess to a deceased god. This day was never supposed to come, but we all knew the prescribed action was suicide, or so it was written.” Recounting part of my oath to Tathana helped, but I’d always had support, and my sisters were gone. I wanted to curl into a ball and weep, but duty was paramount.

“Damn, you don’t get it, do you?” Jes used a hard inflection on the “you” parts.

“No, you’re the one that doesn’t get it. I am a high priestess; the gods rely on us; they need us for their health and eternal life. If I cannot die, I must find a new god to worship.”

“Wow, you’re pretty far gone. Tathana really had you convinced. You don’t get that the gods couldn’t care less about us? All the formalities, playing dress up, and you know, being their slaves. All that crap was just to feed their endless need for adulation.

I spent most of my waking hours with Tathana. You were only there part time. She used you, paraded you around when she wanted to put on a show for the other gods. She didn’t need your worship or your prayers, and she wasn’t who you think she was.”

“Blasphemy, I’ll hear no more of your insolence, you cur.”

“Damn, at least insult me properly. A cur is a dog. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s wordplay. At least call me a bastard or something more appropriate.”

“Enough. Be silent, or I’ll kick you from the cliffs.” But Jes had already moved away, keeping his distance.

“Listen, lady, I’m not so fond of you either, but you’re likely the only human that can understand me, and I don’t want to be a cat the rest of my life. You help me, and I’ll help you. If you get Kirill to take you in, maybe you could ask him to change me back to a human?”

I ignored Jes because he didn’t deserve a response. We’d traveled a fair distance from the city and were nearing an outcropping of bushes on the far side of a hill. I pushed between the plants and found a wooden door with a simple lock. After fetching a small stone and smashing the lock, we moved inside.

An oil lantern and fire-tool were near the door, and I shuffled forward, patting the wall until I found them. I took the lantern outside and lit it under the starlight before moving back in. The underground armory was dug into a tall hillside of dark brown clay. It was technically full of rejects because Tathana had insisted on the best-looking equipment for her ceremonies, and forced us to discard anything that showed the slightest amount of wear. It seemed wasteful to me, but it was our duty to follow Tathana’s wishes.

I wound through the narrow entryway, reaching a hall-shaped room with a low ceiling. Cubbies dug into the wall were filled with helmets and shoes, while tables occupied most of the floor space, holding hundreds of stacked garments. Swords, shields, and other weapons were propped against freestanding wooden racks. I started my search at a table loaded with undergarments.

“We always sang for Tathana when we sorted and stored things here,” I muttered rubbing my hands along the fabric. “But I like the cut of the older garments the best. They were more flattering and less boxy.”

I found a few I liked, but the weight of my curse hit me again. As a high priestess, I was the last of my kind, forsaken to live. I wiped my eyes in silence and dug through a pile of leather armor, longing for the company of my sisters, but they were gone, and I had nothing but a stupid man-cat with me.

After trying on several pieces, I found armor that was cut for my newer, leaner build. It had shiny brass fittings that I wasn’t fond of. I preferred the bronze ones, but assured myself they would tarnish soon enough. Satisfied that I had the best fit, I adorned the brown leather chest plate of Tathana’s high priestesses. It had a large brass emblem with her insignia positioned in the middle of my chest.

I compared the chest plate’s emblem to the ink on my arm. They were mirror images, but the lines of my tattoo had been rebuilt crisper and cleaner, like the ritual was just a few days ago. A deep sigh escaped my lips, and I tried to harden my emotions. I had no choice. I had to push on. The gods needed me.

I strapped the armor on, standing at attention, attempting to smile, to show pride in my goddess, but my face muscles wouldn’t cooperate. A slurping noise drew my attention to Jes. He was lying on a pile of clothing, licking his disgusting little paws. I pelted him with a sock. “How can you help me?”

He spoke between licks. The flicking of his tiny pink tongue gave me chills. “Cause I’m a freaking cat. I can climb walls, sneak through crowds, eavesdrop, and you know, being a cat, nobody suspects me of anything you might do.”

I wanted to pelt him again for his disrespect, but I ignored him, lacing up calf-high boots, grabbing a sword, bow, and sharp dagger. All the gear was in near-perfect condition. I also grabbed a leather satchel, stuffing it with an extra torch and a few strips of fabric. Jes moved about, avoiding me by wandering in and out of rows of equipment, hiding in the shadows.

A reflective shield caught my eye, and I moved close to it, apprehensive about what I would see. Even though my reflection was distorted in the shield’s splotchy finish, my dark curls, my complexion, and even my freckles reminded me of my appearance when I was years younger, but I decided it must have been the warped surface toying with me. I didn’t have time to be precious about it, because I needed to keep moving in case Maethon returned. “Let’s go.” I exhaled and tried to relax my shoulders.

Satisfied with my gear, I moved outside, slammed the door, and bent the latch, locking Jes inside. “You’ll slow me down. If you can escape and catch up to me, I’ll consider helping you.”

“What is your damn problem?” Jes shouted.

I tied my hair back with a strip of fabric, giggling as I sprinted away. Jes would find his way out once daylight crept through the door, but I didn’t expect him to be waiting for me at the top of the next hillside. “How in Tathana’s name did you do that?”

“Did I mention that cats also have crazy good night vision and a keen sense of smell?”

“No, you didn’t.” I wanted to launch him as far as I could and watch his little fluffy tail soar across the dark sky, but he was keeping his distance again.

“Jesters that ain’t clever don’t last so long. Getting out was easy. I could smell the fresh air coming through a vent in the wall. I was out of there before you finished tying your hair, then I just ran ahead of you in the dark. So, do you still think I’m going to slow you down?”

“Maybe not.”

“Well, my dear, you’re strong-willed and strong-bodied, but clueless. Would you like me to guide you to Croga, Kirill’s realm?”

“No, I don’t need your guidance. It’s this way,” I said, pointing in the direction I had been running.

“You’ve never been there, have you?”

“No, but I’ve seen it on a map.”

Jes trotted around me, waving his tail like a furry flagpole. “You sat in an alcove reciting prayers or pranced around a field stomping grass to death, play-fighting with wooden swords. You’ve never been anywhere.”

“Are you always like this?”

“I’m usually much worse. I’m only being kind because I need your help, so I don’t have to stay like this forever. Anyway, you’re going the opposite direction of Croga.”

“Fine,” I said, turning about, facing the smoldering remains of Nadur. The night was almost through, and seeing the last dying embers against the pale golden glow of a new day was almost therapeutic, like I was leaving the past behind and moving into a new chapter. “How long will it take to get there?”

“A while,” Jes said, running ahead of me. “I hope you’re good with a bow, cause you’re gonna need it.”

Jes’s directions took us inland, and soon after, the ever-present crashing waves and coastal noises faded away. He was right too; I’d never been anywhere. Every shred of my life, from my earliest memories were within an hour’s walk of home. It didn’t take long to encounter places I hadn’t seen, but Jes insisted he knew the way, and before long, I was carrying him on my shoulders again.

Chapter Three

We journeyed across flat arid plains between the realms. Jes was right about my need for a bow as the desert pigs I hunted were small and quick to dart beneath thorny underbrush. But hunger is a powerful motivator, and with Jes’s guidance, I learned how to lead the small beasts with my arrows, prepare, and roast them over a pit fire. One week of travel became two, and the terrain transitioned to grasslands. Our exit from the plains was perfect as late spring was transitioning to early summer. Jes assured me that soon enough, even the grasslands will dry, and hunting would become more difficult. A few days later, Jes claimed we had reached the outskirts of Kirill’s realm, but I had had enough, we had been traveling for most of a month. “Why would the gods travel like this?”

He flopped onto a patch of grass and rolled over, sliding himself back and forth, attempting to knock the sand out of his fur, but it wasn’t working. His sleek black body had turned dark brown from our journey. He reminded me of a feral cat, scrawny and filthy. His little kitty eyes squinted above a toothy grin as he stared at me. “They really kept your kind ignorant, didn’t they?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, my kind?”

“Priests and priestesses. You know, your kind. They kept you ignorant about everything. Just eat, pray, practice, train, eat again, and sleep. No education whatsoever about how anything works.”

I was perturbed at Jes’s threadbare summary of my life. “Tathana required ultimate perfection and dedication to retain her health.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not gonna start another fight with you. The thing is, Arly my dear, you’re going to have to figure the whole god thing out on your own, but to answer your question about how Tathana traveled, well, let’s put it this way: she didn’t do this crap.

“Tathana would send a huge entourage ahead of her, and once we got to our destination, we’d notify the closest zealot, ahem, excuse me, I mean priest or priestess. Then Tathana would show up a day later, floating down on a thing that looked like a flying wheelless carriage. We’d all do our best to be in practiced awe of her amazing godliness.”

“What’d you call me, a zell-what?” I said with irritation.

Jes lowered his tone, talking with a smooth cadence again. “Zealot baby, I said zealot cause that’s what you are. It means fanatical follower. It’s really what we all were to Tathana, because what choice did we have?”

Tolerating Jes’s heresy was trying. “You’re insane.” After three weeks of travel with him, I was still challenged by his uncouth language, and I was reminded why we didn’t talk much. It didn’t make sense how he could have stayed so close to Tathana for so long while ignoring her divine grace.

“Nope, not me. I’m just having a normal reaction to an insane world,” he said, using an up-octave inflection at the end of every other word, like he was trying to assure me of his confidence.

“Why did I bring you along?”

Jes scoffed, “Because you didn’t know you’d need a tent and canteen, you didn’t know how to hunt, use roots to get water, or keep the creepy-crawly critters away at night. But you know, other than that, no reason at all. At least not yet, today.”

Jes knew nothing of the dedication and ultimate commitment Tathana required. “Well, perhaps I’ve learned everything I need to know and I’m ready to be done with you.”

He rolled in the grass again, scratching his back on pebbles, mocking me with his annoying fake laughter. “Oh boy, keep practicing sweetheart, you’ll make a great jester someday. But you don’t have a clue what you’re about to walk into.”

“I told you, I’m going to Croga, where I will share news of Tathana’s demise at Maethon’s hand and beg Kirill’s forgiveness for living while my goddess died. With a bit of good fortune, Kirill will grant me a reprieve and let me worship him.”

“I just hope I can keep you alive long enough to see who you become,” Jes said, approaching me and putting his paw on my leg. That was his signal for me to carry him. I obliged, putting him on my shoulders. With my leather armor, he’d found a position where he could sit upright, facing forward while I walked. Once positioned in his happy spot, Jes whispered into my ear, “What do you know of Kirill?”

I straightened my back, repeating the godly description from my training. “Kirill is a great warrior, valiant, and brave. He has accomplished many amazing feats, completed a multitude of quests, vanquishing monsters and evildoers. He protects his people, providing safety for all.”

“Sure, and I’m a unicorn.”

I found this type of banter with Jes to be so vexing. He loved to reference things I had not been taught, or he’d use terminology unknown to me. “What’s that?” I asked, expecting his answer to be laden with insults and indignities.

“A unicorn is a huge, wide-bodied, four-legged beast with leathery gray skin and a single horn coming from its nose. They live in Lilra’s realm, roaming the great plains, but that’s a long way from here.”

“You’ve been there?”

“I’ve been everywhere, sweetheart.” His voice was plain and unemotional. “I was always part of the advance team because of my glowing personality.”

“I doubt it.” Though I couldn’t discern if he was being sarcastic or not.

“You’re sharp and a quick study, I’ll give you that, but wow, the list of stuff you don’t know is long. Let’s just say that if you value your life, like it or not, you’re gonna need to keep me around. We’re still a day’s walk from Kirill’s palace. If you’re nice, I’ll direct us through Champion’s Valley. We both need a bath, and this time of year, there should be fruit on the trees.”

“When have I not been nice? I saved you, carried you, listened to your jabbering, and I haven’t thrown you off a cliff yet.”

“Of course, darling, you’re right, and you’re kind on the eyes. Go that way.” Jes pointed toward a hillside. Soon after, we crossed over wagon ruts that carved up a slope. I had a hard time believing that anyone could have motivated carriages up such a steep incline, but Jes assured me we were following the correct path.

We crested the hilltop, and I set Jes on the ground. Ahead of us was a landscape I’d only seen in paintings. Two magnificent rows of mountains flanked the sides of an enormous valley filled with vibrant grass-covered hills and trees bearing impossible bounties of fruit. Several falls spewed glorious volumes of sparkling water into a series of glistening rivers and streams that flowed across the valley’s floor.

“Here we are. Champions Valley. The entrance to his realm is through Heros Pass at the far end.”

Elated at the prospect of fresh water, I took off, sprinting ahead of Jes. We raced like giddy children until we pounced into a brisk stream of clear satisfaction. Brown dirt blobs emerged around us, washing downstream. I waded to the rocky bank and stripped off my clothes, rinsing my garments.

Jes watched me while cleaning his paws. “This is the first time I’ve seen your body in the daylight. We’ve barely eaten in two weeks and yet you look like you’ve gotten stronger each day. How’s that work?”

I glanced at my wavy reflection in the water’s surface, turning to see larger muscles on my arms and legs. “I don’t know. It must be part of my curse.”

Jes shook his head, raising his tone assuringly, “I said this before, but you don’t look cursed to me.”

I untied my ponytail and ran my hands through my hair. Though I still didn’t understand how I lived through Maethon’s attack, nor why I looked the way I did. I lobbed a stone toward Jes, causing a splash that soaked him again.

“Why’d I deserve that? I just complimented you.” Jes shook from tip to tail, pawing his whiskers.

“For staring.” I didn’t mind his attention, but it would have been nicer to hear it from a human.

That evening, we camped near an immense fig tree, filling our stomachs with the delectable flesh of its fruit. At dawn the next day, we broke camp, expecting to reach Kirill’s palace by sunset. We were a half-day’s walk from our campsite when Jes insisted I carry him again.

Once positioned on my shoulder, he spoke into my ear with a tone of concern. “When we get there, what are you going to say?”

 His question confused me. I thought he was having memory loss. “We’ve been through this.”

“Right, I’m going to help you save your own skin. But what you don’t know could get you killed.”

I didn’t want to fight, but Jes’s new tone had captured my attention. “Why? Why wouldn’t it work to just tell them what happened?”

“Here’s the thing: I was on Tathana’s forward team many times, and each realm we entered would question us, and make us prove ourselves and our allegiance to our god. It happened every single time. They’re all paranoid that you could be from the LGS.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“LGS stands for the Land of Godless Savages. It’s the one place I’ve never been, but I’ve been told it’s a vast swath of desolate land filled with barbaric savages. Multiple gods’ realms touch it and apparently raids from the LGS are common. But that’s not the real issue. Because we’re alone, Kirill’s people will very likely assume you’re a savage in stolen armor. You’ll have to prove you’re not.”

I listened to Jes and considered his words. We had left the wide-open valley and entered a canyon that was narrower than a pair of carriages. “Why are you just now telling me this?”

“Because this is Hero’s Pass.” Jes climbed from my shoulder and slinked into the satchel’s pouch. He popped his head out and spoke fast. “If everything goes to shit, I’ll help, but you have to do as I say.” Jes disappeared into the dark leather interior, closing the pouch with his claws.