Silver bloomed on either side of the cat: the badger and Broadfoot appeared. The duck-mole still looked thin and worn, but there was amusement in his small eyes as he nodded to Daine.
"I think you'll be glad to know the Sorrows have returned to their kennels, all three of them," he informed her. "The Mortal Realms are rid of them, for now."
Gold-Streak unwrapped itself from around the badger's neck and rolled over to Daine. "Miss you," it said, and trickled up her thighs to nestle in her lap.
Her eyes stung. Tears fell down her cheeks. "Leaf and Jelly are dead," she told her first darking, the spy that Ozorne had set on her. "They were so brave."
"I know," Gold-streak replied. "They had freedom. They had choosing. They choose you. All darkings know. We never forget."
Sniffing, she wiped her eyes with a finger, and the dream-king's coat begain to slide. Ganiel, still behind Daine, resettled the garment around her shoulders. There was much less pain from that change than when he originally put the garment on her. Peeking under the coats Daine saw her injuries were mending themselves.
- you will have scars, - Gainel said, - but those are signs of battles fought bravely.
"I don't hardly feel brave," she whispered. "I feel sad, and I feel tired."
"Brother, there are things to deal with." Looking at the speaker, Daine gulped, and thrust herself backwards, colliding with Gainel's legs. It was a serpent far larger than the one that had killed Rikash: Kidunka, the world-snake, the first child born of Universe and Flame. "Her, for one." The serpent pointed it's large, blunt nose at Daine.
Eyes—Gods eyes—turned to her. Daine wished very, very strongly that she could just sink into the marble floor.
"Leave be!" Sarra came from somewhere in the crowd to kneel and wrap her arms around he daughter. "You're frightening her!"
"What is there to deal with?" Weiryn demanded, joining his mate and child.
"She must choose" said the Great Mother Goddess, fixing her emerald eyes on Daine.
"Choose what?" asked the girl. "I don't understand."
Mithros met her eyes with his. Daine quivered, but refused to look away. He was a god, the greatest of those who ruled two-leggers, but he was no Chaos-Queen. Her supply of awed terror was used up for today.
At last Mithros shook his head. "You are god-born, Veralidaine Sarrasri. Wherever the god-born go, whatever they do trouble—disorder—"
"—Change—" interrupted Gainel.
Mithros glared at his brother, and went on. "All those things follow. We cannot have that, particularly on the scale on which you seem to create it. We must then limit the area of your influence.
"Either you now return to the Mortal Realms, to live out your life, or you stay here, a lesser goddess. Once you decide, you will never be able to change your mind. You will never again cross between the Realms."
Choose? She thought numb. Choose between Ma, who never should have died, and Numair? Her father, who she barely knew, or Queen Thayet, King Jonathan, Onua?
But I could be a goddess. I could do magic like Ma does. I could visit Broad Foot's home. And Kit—seeing her won't be a problem, since she can go where she likes.
What of Cloud, and Zek the marmoset, and Spots and Onua's Tahoi? Was she going to leave the Long Lake pack behind? Confused, Daine buried her head in Sarra's shoulder. What of Alanna the Lioness, and Maura of Dunlath? Could she spend their lives watching them from the Divine Realms, without ever being with them?
Numair. From their very first meeting, he'd given her joy, delight, new things to learn. He was her teacher, her traveling companion. Her comrade in arms. He was her love. When he kissed her…She could never hive him up, not willingly.
She lifted her head, as her heart turned to ice. She had promised Ma that she would stay when she returned. She had given her word.
"The immortals, brother." A soft voice, filled with kindness, issued from the hood that shadowed the Black God's face. "For their part in Uusoae's plan, the Stormwings should be made to return here, and forbidden from the Mortal Realms for all of time.
"Perhaps all immortals should return. Humans have forgotten how to live with them."
"Too bad," growled the badger. "Once immortals had a place in things. Human mages threw them out—and you allowed it. You have a chance to fix a wrong here, not repeat it."
The Graveyard Hag thumped her walking stick on the ground to get attention. "The badger's right," Carthak's patron goddess said. "And it's good for humans to have a few things to be afraid of. Besides us of course."
--For nearly four centuries, I have labored with human dreams.—Gainels's mind voice was firm—the immortals evoke rich dreams without my striving. Mortal spirits were poorer with the immortals gone; human imagination less fertile. I have enjoyed a few years' relief from a thankless task. Will you cripple me twice, brother?—
Gold-streak put it's small head beside Daine's ear and whispered, "Stormwings."
That tiny, high voice broke through her concentration on a choice that was no choice.
"What?" she asked, dully.
"Stormwings," repeated Gold-streak, "To be prisoned here."
"Good," she mumbled. "They're evil, they're—"
Memory silenced her. Cold air touched her cheek as a voice remarked, "That creature might defile what mortal killers left, so that humans can't lie about a soldier's death is." In her mind's eye, a tan and silver figure plummeted, claws extended, blond hair and boned streaming. Dark, imperious eyes, and pale, hypnotic ones, accused her.
She did not like raids on nests for eggs, and nestlings, but her squirrel, crow and snake friends did just that. Wolves chose scapegoats to bully, hurt and even reject completely from the pack. The sight of living prey fighting a hyena's devouring jaws, or of a killer whale beating a seal pup to death, might reduce her to tears, but those predators could not help their natures any more that Uusoae, or the Great Gods coud.
While she thought, the gods spoke, until Mithros cut off discussion with a wave of his hand. "Very well. Those immortals who dwelled in the Mortal Realms at the spring equinox may remain, if they choose. All the others return here. As to the Stormwings—"
Gold-streak stretched itself wire-thin, raising its head until Mithros could see it. "What of Queen Barzha?" it asked.
Daine rose, gripping the edges of Gainel's coat to keep herself covered. "Gold-streak's right. Barzha's flock for certain—those that followed her into the Mortal Realms. Even—maybe even, some that sided with Uusoae. Stormwings aren't humans. They aren't gods. They are what they were made to be. If you punish them for that, you may as well punish yourselves for what you are." She straightened, looking around at the magnificent assembly. If they wanted to admit her to their number, then they wanted to admit her to their number, then they would have to get used to her speaking her mind. "You'll forgive me for saying so, but you don't look like you'd care to punish yourselves."
"Daine!" gasped Sarra, eyes wide with horror.
A weight pressed against against her leg. She looked down: it was the badger. –That's my kit.—His mind-voice spoke to her alone.
"Isn't order what makes you happy?" continued the girl. "Well, Stormwings are the nightmare of battle, pure and simple. What's that but a nightmare of disorder? How can you begrudge a mortal home to anyone that might scare two-leggers off war.?"
Mithros glared. "The Stormwings may remain," the sun-lord barked at last, his voice thunder in her ears.
The marble courtyard shimmered, then stretched, creating an immense bare space at the centre. The moment that it ceased to move, Diamondflame, Wingstar and Kitten popped on to it. Kitten whistled an chirruped, her scales red with anger. Seeing Daine, she trotted over and began to scold.
"I wasn't given a choice," Daine told her, guessing what her charge was upset about. "Thay just grabbed me when Uusoae appeared."
—We have come to take Veralidaine home,--said Diamondflame. –The humans want to know what happened.—
"She may not be able to return," said Broad Foot. "She has to choose either the Mortal or the Divine Realms—she may not cross from one to the other."
—And whose idea was that?—Wingstar demanded. The duckmole began to explain.
"I ought to stay," Daine told Kitten, tears rolling down her cheeks unnoticed.
The young dragon replied in a stream of chatter and croaks. Tiny lightnings crackled over her scales.
—She wants to know why,--Gaineil remarked in his soft voice.—She wants to know why you will not go back to your friends in the Mortal Realms.—
Kitten reared on to her hindquarters and dug silver talons into the front of the dreamking's jacket. "Kit!" protested Daine, trying to work her friends claws out of the fabric. "See, I promised Ma I would stay, next time. I gave my word."
"Dear one, no." Sarra had moved away when the dragons arrived. Now she came forward, clothing under one arm. "You don't belong here. You would be so unhappy." She held out the garments. "I believe Gainel would like his coat back, eventually."
Numbly Daine reached for the clothes, still trying to understand her mother's words. "But—I gave you my promise. I don't break my promises."
"You're not breaking it. I'm releasing you from your vow. You have a good man waiting for you at home. A strange man, certainly, but a good one." Sarra motioned, and Daine was encircled by a glittering curtain. The girl couldn't see out; no one else could see in."
"Hand me Gainel's coat, dear." A hand pierced the wall, and slender fingers beckoned. Daine gave the coat to her mother, who pulled it out of the enclosure.
Where the underthings, lavender dress, bodice and slippers had come from, Daine could never guess. She put all of them on.
"Ma, I'm decent, and thankyou Lord Gainel."
The enclosure vanished. Weiryn had one arm around her mother; he clasped a bow and quiver in his free hand. Looking for Kitten, Daine was horrified to find that the young dragon was scolding Mithros quite emphatically.
"Your going back won't be so bad," Sarra told Daine, eyes filling. "We'll come to you on the equinoxes and solstices."
"But I promised—"
"We can't restore the years together that were taken from us," Sarra interrupted. "It was misery, but we can't change it. Seeing you here taught me you're adult now. You're needed, and you're valued, and you're loved. Those are wondrous gifts, sweetling. I can't let you throw them away." Tears spilled down her cheeks and her smile quivered, but her blue eyes were steady.
"She is right," Weiryn said gruffly. "The mortals need you as you do them." He offered the bow and quiver to her. "Since you lost the one you had."
Slowly, feeling numb, Daine accepted the gift. The bow changed subtly, until it fitted her strength and grip exactly, as the last bow Weiryn had given her did.
"Veralidaine, do you choose?" boomed Mithros. "Diamondflame, take your grandchild in hand!"
—Skysong, come here— ordered her grandsire. Kitten obeyed, still muttering.
"Our daughter is going home," Sarra told the gods, chin high, "to the Mortal Realms."
Mithros looked at Daine. "Is it so?"
The girl nodded.
"Then I will return you—" began the sunlord god. –We shall take her back. Sometimes those whom the gods return to other Realms—how shall I put it?—They go astray. What a pity it would be if she entered the Realms of Chaos, or of Death, by mistake. Better not to take chances. Come, Veralidaine—
"Are you questioning my godly skills dragon?" ordered Mithros, colour rising in his cheeks. "I shall send her back, you may return the young dragon and tell the Mortals what happened. I shall let Veralidaine say her goodbyes." He looked at Daine.
Numair, Alanna and George sat around Daine, who was lying naked and bleeding in the middle of a clearing. They all waited to hear another of her thoughts, or to hear or speak, or to see her awake. Numair sat, arms wrapped around her, his weakened state forgotten.
"Leaf and Jelly are dead. They were so brave."
This time her words had come whispered in their heads, but the silence around them was so great, it seemed as if she had shouted her words.
"I don't hardly feel brave," she whispered. "I feel sad, and I feel tired."
Numair stared at her, and then felt a tingling sensation in his head. He looked down, and saw silver light coming from her hands. He lifted one, and stared. The cuts had healed, there were scars, but she was no longer bleeding. He sighed and looked back at her face. He knew there was nothing to do but wait.
"Choose what? I don't understand." Numair looked at Daine, what is going on? He wondered. What could there possibly be to choose?
Choose? Choose between Ma, who never should have died, and Numair? Da, who I barely know, or Queen Thayet, King Jonathan, Onua?
But I could be a goddess. I could do magic like Ma does. I could visit Broad Foot's home. And Kit—seeing her won't be a problem, since she can go where she likes.
What of Cloud, and Zek the marmoset, and Spots and Onua's Tahoi? How can I leave the Long Lake pack behind? I'm so confused!
Comprehension dawned on Numair's face, and Alanna and George looked at each other. They suddenly knew what she had to choose from. They realized what was happening. Numair was staring, pale face at Daine, his mind reeling. She was being made to choose between mortal and godly life. How could the gods do this to her…to him. What if she chose not to return? How could he live without her?
He was interrupted by another wave of thoughts from Danie, —What of Alanna the Lioness, and Maura of Dunlath? How can I spend my life watching them from the Divine Realms, without ever being with them?—Alanna smiled grimly, she knew Daine was struggling with her decision, but surely she'd choose the Mortal life…wouldn't she?
And Numair. From the moment I met him, he's given me joy, delight, new things to learn. He's my teacher, companion. My comrade in arms. He's my love. When he kisses me…
Numair blushed a deep crimson, and Alanna and George smiled knowingly. They had guessed that the student and mage relationship had perhaps been more than that. Now they knew for certain. Numair on the other hand, blushed. He hadn't known if she had really loved him like he loved her, he just hoped and prayed that she would come back to him.
I could never hive him up, not willingly. I'm never happier than when I'm with him— but…I promised Ma that I would stay when I returned. I gave my word.
Numair couldn't breathe, he had been there when that had happened. He had seen her give her word, and he also knew that she would keep it. His heart turned to ice, she was going to stay in the Divine Realms, become a goddess. He tried to convince himself that it was for the better. She would happier there.
George and Alanna were pale faced as well. They had never thought that she would stay. But they knew how deeply Daine took her promises. They knew that Numair, for all that he loved her, would have to go on alone. George's grip on Alanna tightened, for he could never imagine life without her. He couldn't imagine what Numair was going through, watching his love go through such a horrible decision.
"What? Good, they're evil, they're"—Numair stared at Daine. What was evil? Suddenly a picture filled Numair, Alanna and George's minds. A picture of the stormwing Rikash.
"Gold-streak's right. Barzha's flock for certain—those that followed her into the Mortal Realms. Even—maybe even, some that sided with Uusoae. Stormwings aren't humans. They aren't gods. They are what they were made to be. If you punish them for that, you may as well punish yourselves for what you are… You'll forgive me for saying so, but you don't look like you'd care to punish yourselves."
Numair was still staring vaguely, half listening to what Daine's voice was mumbling, and half thinking to himself of what would happen if Daine didn't return. Alanna and George on the other hand, were listening to Daine's extrodinary speech. They had never heard of the Gods being scolded, and listened with rapt attention to what she was saying. They could not ever dream of accusing the gods of being vain, yet that was exactly what they were hearing coming from the mouth of Daine.
"Isn't order what makes you happy?" continued the girl. "Well, Stormwings are the nightmare of battle, pure and simple. What's that but a nightmare of disorder? How can you begrudge a mortal home to anyone that might scare two-leggers off war.?"
Alanna had never thought she would hear anyone stand up for the creatures which fed off death, yet she also agreed with Daine. Stormwings were definitely reminders of the horrors of war.
Numair was still staring vacantly into space, oblivious that tears were rolling down his cheeks. He was waiting for Daine's decision. He hoped, with every ounce of himself, that she would break her word. But in his head he knew that she would not. She kept to her promises, no matter what.
Time passed, and he waited, his mind becoming number, he could only wait.
"I wasn't given a choice, They just grabbed my when Uusoae appeared." Said Daine. Alanna looked down at the girl, whose face had become more deathly since they arrived to find her.
"I ought to stay—" Numair stared at Daine, she had just voiced her choice. He suddenly came to realization that he would never see her again.
"Kit! See I promised Ma I would stay, next time. I gave my word."
Numair looked up at the white faces of Alanna and George. "She's going to stay." He said simply, but his voice sounded horse, and his eyes were rimmed with white. Alanna reached out but he brushed her aside. "I'm ok. I…I'm fine." He shifted slightly and looked back at the girl who had began to talk again.
"But—I gave you my promise. I don't break my promises." Numair nodded. As if that settled it. He stroked Daine's face, brushing a curl away from her eyes.
"We should go." He said, but made no attempt to rise. He simply sat, staring at Daine as if he was waiting for her to open her eyes.
"Ma, I'm decent, and thank you Lord Gainel."
Numair started as a silver light covered Daine's body. He hugged her close to him expecting her body to disappear as she moved permanently into the Divine Realms, but she did not disappear. He lifted his cloak slightly, and realized that she was now wearing a violet dress, and slippers.
"But I promised—"
Numair looked at Daine. She seemed to be arguing her choice. Was it possible….might there still be a chance she would return to him?
Sarra hugged Daine tightly, then kissed her cheeks. "The autumn equinox isn't far off," she said. "We'll come to you then."
She stepped back, to let Weiryn hug his daughter. "I am glad that you were able to visit us, daughter. Try not to lose that bow."
"I'll try Da." She knelt, to bring herself closer to Broad Foot and the badger. "Thank you," she told them, running a hand over the duckmole's springy fur, and scratching the badger's ears. "You helped save Tortall, both of you."
"It was the least we could do for the friend who tricked Uusoae into the open," Broad Foot replied. "G'day, then Weiryn's daughter. We'll met again, I know." Silvery fire condensed around his form. Inside it, he grew smaller, and smaller, until he was gone.
Daine lifted Gold-streak from the badger's wide back, and kissed the blot. "What will become of you darkings now?" she asked.
Goldstreak rubbed its head against her cheek. "Dragons invite us to Dragonlands. Darkings go there for now. We must think of what we will become."
"Good luck to you, then," she said.
"We will always remember you," Goldstreak told her. It trickled over to WIngstar, to climb on the dragon's back.
"Badger," Daine said, tears filling her eyes. "I s'pose you're done with me, not that I'm grown and know my da and all."
He thrust a cold, wet nose into the hollow at the base of her throat. She flinched. Even after he backed away, the sense of coldness remained. TOunching the spot, the girl felt a chilly metal curve, its base wrapped in silver wire, attached to a chain. Lifting the claw, she saw that it had been cleaned so thoroughly that there was nothing to remind her of the use she'd made of it. "You left that where it might have been lost," the badger remarked, dark eyes glittering with amusement.
Daine buried her face in his heavy fur, holding him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered, voice cracing. "I'll never take it off again."
"I will check on you often, to be sure you keep your promice. You aren't rid of me so easily, my kit." Rearing slightly he nudged the claw with his nose. "Ozorne always underestimated hyou. It was a lesson he never seemed to learn."
—"Come.—ordered Mithros, as he watched the dragons disappear in a beam of silver light. Kitten was tucked into the circle of Diamondflame's forepaws and talons, safe withing the great dragon's hold. –Gods annoy me— said Diamondflame, as he disappeared.
"As dragons annoy us," snapped the Graveyard Hag. She winked at Diane. "Good to see you again dearie."
"I bet," muttered the girl. Giving the badger a last hug, she climbed on to Diamondflame's back, tucking her skirts so that she could sit astride the dragon's neck. She looked at Sarra once more. "Ma? Will you do something for me?"
Sarra came to the dragon's side. "If I can"
"Can I see you as the Green Lady? Just once?"
Sarra laughed; Weiryn grinned. Light, gold and soft, gathered around Daine's ma. She grew taller. A simple green cotton dress, heavily decorated with embroideries in complex designs, fluttered around her body ion a wind that Daine cound't feel. There was a sheer green veil over Sarra's face and hair; it too fluttered and moved as if windblown. Looking at her, Daine felt comfort, and hope and love.
"You're beautiful, Ma" she said quietly. "I love you."
Sarra raised her veil. "I love you too, sweet."
"Come Veralidaine, I shall send you back now, if it is your final choice." Said the Sunlord. Daine nodded, suddenly overcome with her mother's godly beauty. Silver light beamed around her, and she closed her eyes.
