His Plan

Mayura's home looked like a spear jutting from a ring of jade. Even from a bird's eye vantage point, it was easy to miss. The forest shielded the entire tower-like structure, and the white stone was veined with ivy, blending into the foliage. There did not appear to be a front door. Not that it mattered. The creature swooped right through one of the glassless windows and dumped Marinette unceremoniously on cold, marble floor.

"Welcome, mortal."

Marinette stood up, her knees throbbing with soon-to-bloom bruises. She was in some kind of hall. White pillars rimmed the room, and beautiful hangings trailed from the ceiling, all of which were deep blue and embroidered with a gold fan that was reminiscent of a peacock's plume. At the head of the hall was an ornate chair—more of a throne, really. Mayura sat upon it. Her smile was like the chill of a winter frost.

"Why did you bring me here?" Marinette demanded, too annoyed to be polite. "I didn't want to leave."

"And yet I was very specific with my wording when I gave you that feather."

Marinette gritted her teeth.

"Why so upset? You clearly wanted me for something." Mayura crossed one leg over the other and spread her hands. "Here I am."

It was difficult to swallow back the words that wanted to spill free. Getting snatched by some giant bird monster was not part of the plan. Leaving Cat alone was definitely not part of the plan. Still, Mayura was right. Marinette had wanted to talk. It would be stupid to waste this opportunity.

"Fine." She straightened, looking Mayura directly in the eye. "I want to know everything you know about the god of transmission, his plan to release the goddess of creation, and how to break a true name binding."

Mayura arched a thin eyebrow. "I see you have learnt a few things."

"No thanks to your games. You could have been clearer that it was his father I had to worry about."

"You forget that I am the goddess of emotion. I knew that your feelings for your husband would make you stay with him, no matter what I said."

Heat rushed over her cheeks.

"Feelings are dangerous too, you know," Mayura said softly. "More dangerous than any sword or great magic. They are the strings that turn people into puppets. Just look how you have danced for the god of transmission." She shook her head, her expression almost pitying. "You really are a foolish girl."

Anger simmered deep. Marinette wanted to defend herself, wanted to say that she didn't regret what she felt for Cat, but she still found herself lowering her gaze. "Please, just tell me what you know."

"Very well." Mayura flicked her fan open, fluttering it to and fro. "It all started with a human. A young woman named Emilie. She was a peasant. Nothing special. Certainly no warrior. But she prayed to the god of transmission. She wanted the power to fight for her kingdom, and he decided to give it to her …"

As the story unfolded, Marinette realised that she had heard of Emilie: a warrior from the northern lands who had taken down entire battalions on her own and helped to end the war. The Gold Knight, the stories called her. The woman blessed by the gods. Emilie had gone missing twenty-five years ago. Now Marinette knew what had happened.

Hawkmoth had fallen in love with her. He'd brought her to the world of the gods and they'd had a child together.

"Emilie died from illness twenty years ago," Mayura said in her cool, detached voice. "That fool couldn't accept it, though. He wanted her back, and he was willing to do whatever it took."

Marinette's eyes widened. "The goddess of creation. That's why he wants to release her from the tree. He thinks she can bring his dead wife back to life!"

"Indeed."

Creases formed on her brow. "But is that even possible? I mean the dead are … dead."

"It has already been done."

"What?"

Mayura's voice softened. "The last goddess of creation, Carmine, had a younger sister. That sister died and was brought back, but such an act is a gross violation to the gods. The balance was torn, the cycle of magic broken."

Something heavy settled in Marinette's stomach. "Carmine was punished, wasn't she? That's why she's trapped in the tree."

A nod. "Death was supposed to be her fate, but she was too powerful. The gods were forced to use … more creative measures. Of course, after she was sealed away, the truth was covered up and no one involved was allowed to speak of it. Overcoming death has always been an alluring concept, even for gods."

"But then how did Hawkmoth—"

"Find out?"

Marinette nodded.

"Rumours will get around in one way or another. Hawkmoth, as you call him, chose to confront the Protector and demand answers."

"Wait." Marinette's heart thumped uncomfortably against her ribs. "The Protector was the last leader of the gods, right?"

"Yes."

Her heart thumped faster and faster. Cat had killed that god only a few days after Emilie had died. Could it be a coincidence? No … not when the punishment had been to isolate Cat in the very castle where the tree stood. Hawkmoth must have known. He must have planned for it.

Hate twisted up her insides. Bitter, burning. That he could do such a thing to his own son.

Mayura snapped her fan shut. "It took him years to piece together the rest—years of searching through books of prophecy and learning all there was about creation magic and reincarnation. But the fact remains that his goal is and has always been one thing: to bring Emilie back to life."

Silence filled the hall. Marinette didn't know how to respond. On the one hand, this was Cat's mother. From the way he had spoken about her, he had loved her deeply and would want to see her again. On the other, the thought of helping Hawkmoth made everything in her recoil, never mind the questionable act of bringing a person back to life.

"Does my husband know?" she asked.

"He knows that his father wishes to revive Emilie, yes."

Marinette's frown deepened. "And the sister?"

"Hm?"

"The one that Carmine revived. What happened to her?"

"She was kept as isolated as your pitiful husband. A living abomination that no one wanted to be around."

The words were stated flatly. No emotion. No judgement.

"That doesn't seem fair," Marinette said, furrowing her brow. "It wasn't her fault that she was brought back to life."

A soft laugh. "He said the same thing once."

"He?"

Mayura stood up from her throne, beautiful even with her oddly bluish skin. "Question time is over."

"But the true name—"

"Oh, that one is a hopeless case." She waved her hand dismissively. "No one has ever figured out how to undo a true name binding." Her lips curved into a knife-sharp smile. "Not that it matters. You won't be seeing your husband or the god of transmission again."

Marinette's eyes narrowed, even as her heart lurched and leapt to her throat. "What?"

"It's nothing personal. I just don't want Papillon's plan to succeed." Bitterness laced her voice like a subtle poison. "I won't allow it."

"You can't just keep me here!"

"Yes, I can." She closed the distance between them, walking in slow, measured steps. "You see, even if you are a remnant of creation, you're still just a human. Weak, fragile, and—"

Marinette yanked the black staff free from where it had been attached to her hip, hidden under her shirt. Cat's weapon. Her pulse throbbed in her neck, and she was conscious of the monstrous bird lurking behind her, blocking the window.

Mayura paused. "Do you really think you can stop me with that?"

"I can try."

"Foolish mortal." She unfurled her fan and held it up close to her face, hiding the smile the was undoubtedly curling her lips. "You have no idea what you're up against."