“Why?”
“You said if I told you what I was doing you would leave. Are you going to dishonor yourself by lying?”
“No, I’ll take my leave,” he says hurriedly. “Stay safe, Rasmira.”
I listen to his footsteps as he retreats. I’m surprised Iric let Soren out of his sight after what happened last time. If it were my friend—
I stop that line of thought, because I realize I’ve never had a real friend, only a pretend one who sought to get me killed.
* * *
AFTER MUCH DEBATING, I decide not to pick up my fort and move camp. It’s too much work, and I’m certain I could take Soren if it came down to it. Though for now, I’m convinced he’s harmless. Annoying as hell, sure, but harmless. Besides, it would be terribly foolish of him to be out and about at night.
As I lie in my little fort that evening, sleep has a harder time coming. I’m not quite so exhausted, and blasted Soren has thoughts of the gunda going through my head.
Damn him.
Damn him and his cursed life debt. I don’t know how he thinks he can possibly do for me as I have done for him. He’s a banished warrior. He must not be very skilled with an ax if he was exiled.
But you were banished, a little voice reminds me.
That was different.
Not necessarily. You shouldn’t be so quick to judge until you know his story.
I don’t want to know his story. Just the thought of being near him again makes me uncomfortable. No more boys in my life. Never again.
I roll over and pull my blanket over my head.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, I’m quick and efficient. Lace up my boots. Place the bark strip back over the opening in my fort. Eat breakfast (which includes Soren’s berries, but I determinedly don’t think about where they came from). Haul on my pack. Grab my ax.
And then I’m on my way to the god once more.
I don’t know if an immortal can be killed, but I do know that if I’m to learn more about this being, I need to get inside the mountain where he lives.
Though unbidden, I think of the last Payment I witnessed. Of the village leader who was killed without more than a flick of the god’s wrist. If Peruxolo can kill that easily, what will he do to the person who attempts to take his life?
That’s not important, I try to assure myself as I take up a steady pace down the road. My eternal soul is what is important. I don’t know if it’s truly in jeopardy, but I’m not about to take any chances.
To occupy myself on the journey, I utter kind words about my sisters aloud for the goddess to record in her Book of Merits. I stretch my arms, roll my neck, try to think of what I’ll do if the god doesn’t leave his lair and give me an opportunity to search it.
It’s much too soon before I’m back in the woods across from the mountain. I climb the same tree I did yesterday, a tall number with yellow-brown bark and smooth branches, and I wait.
And I wait.
And I wait.
My limbs ache hours later, when I’m still holding so very still, staring at the dark seam in the mountain.
Then a blond head of hair finally steps out.
Peruxolo.
Just like yesterday, he walks right over to the tree line and starts following the well-worn trail through the undergrowth. This time, however, he doesn’t stop when he’s right below me. He passes by without pause.
Another day I will follow this trail and see where it leads, but for now, I want to see inside the mountain.
I shimmy down from the tree. Slowly at first, I step toward the seam. When nothing bad happens, I pick up my pace, no more than a quick walk.
But then I jog because the god is away, and I don’t know how much time I have. And I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe these are the steps I must take to return home.
A jolt runs through me, and in the next instant, I’m falling backward. I don’t catch myself in time, my backside connecting with the uneven ground.
What the devil?
I rise, look around me. There’s nothing in sight. I look down. I felt as though I’d been struck. But all over. Like I ran into a wall.
The opening in the mountain is still a good ten feet in front of me.
I try approaching it again.
But after two steps, I’m brought to a crushing halt once more.
I raise my hands, hesitantly reach out in front of me with my fingers. I can’t feel anything tangible against my skin, and yet, I can’t move forward any more. It’s as if my wrists are tied to the end of a rope that is pulled taut. They can’t cross the invisible barrier.
The god has powerful defenses at work. Defenses that remain even when he is not present.
I back up just a couple of steps, select a rock from the ground, and hurl it toward the opening.
But unlike me, it meets no resistance. It sails right through the opening and lands with a soft clack.
Is it just me, then, that cannot enter?
I slide my ax from my back and hold it up to where that barrier lies. But it’s like pressing it up against a solid wall. It won’t break through the air.
My next thought is that perhaps no weapon can enter the god’s lair. Maybe that is why I cannot enter. I drop my ax on the ground behind me and try to press against the barrier with my hands once more.
No such luck.
I return my ax to my back before carefully examining the mountain. Small grasses and trees grow along it. Otherwise, there is nothing but rock and ore—exactly what one would expect on a mountain. Inside the gap, now that I’m so much closer than I was before, I can see firewood stacked along the dark edges of the interior. Large animal skins line the floor, offering a soft carpet to walk on.
Luxury is exactly what I’d expect to see in the home of a god.
“What are you doing?”
I freeze in place.
I’ve heard that voice before. That deep rumble that makes the hair on the back of my neck rise.
I turn.
Peruxolo has returned, his hood now covering his head. He is some distance from me, perhaps fifteen feet or so, and I thank the goddess for that distance. If he were any closer, I might lose my footing for the fear coursing through my veins.
“I asked you a question,” he says. “You’d better answer before I lose my patience.”
My mouth has grown dry, but I somehow force my lips to open. “I came to see you.”
“That was foolish.”
This could be the end of my life right here. One flick of his wrist, and I’m dead. I cannot remain standing here as this scared girl. I need to be more. I need to think quickly. I need to be brave and wise.
Be a warrior.
“The way I see it,” I begin, “my days are numbered as it is. The wild is no friend to mortals, and I figured my chances were better with you.”
That sends his hood cocking to one side. “You came all the way here on your own? Which village are you from?”
I cannot give up the name of my village. What if he decides to take out my foolishness on all of Seravin? On my sisters?
“I have no village. Not anymore,” I say. “They cast me out after I failed my trial.”
“You were banished.” He laughs, short and deep. “You overestimated yourself greatly. You thought you could join the warriors, be the only female among their ranks. Yes, I can see it now.” He tips his head back, and I can spot closed eyelids, as though he’s watching my fate pool behind his eyes.
“But you’re alive. Alive for five whole days on your own, and now you seek me out. Why?” he asks.
“The ziken grow hungry. I know I cannot evade them forever. You could provide me with safety.”
“I could,” he drawls. “The question remains, what is it you could provide me with?”
The way he says it makes me feel dirty, and I take a step back, right up against that barrier.
Silence stretches between us, and I manage to turn myself so I have open air behind me, not that invisible barrier and the seam in the mountain.
At last, he lets out a lazy sigh. “No ideas? I’ve none, either. There’s nothing you could do to serve me. I want nothing from you. Your journey was wasted.”