“How exactly did you meet?” Noelle queried. “If you will pardon my curiosity.”
“He tried to kill me,” Haidee said cheerfully. “I changed his mind, though.”
Arjun opened his mouth, let out an exasperated sigh instead.
There were fresh sounds of mirth by the entrance; the rest of the group had ventured out of the cave, and now found themselves soaked to the skin.
“That’s enough,” I ordered, stepping forward. “You’re all going to catch hypothermia if you’re not careful.”
“Hypo-what?” asked Faraji, a dark-skinned boy with a mop of thick hair and an earnest face.
Right. They wouldn’t know what that was. Several days ago, I wouldn’t have known a barren sunland like this could exist, either. “Hypothermia. You can die from getting too cold. You can also get chills and develop problems with your breathing.”
“Out of those wet clothes,” I instructed, turning to the nearest Oryx clan member—Millie, who, despite the thick humidity, was already shivering. “I’m a Catseye,” I began, unsure if an equivalent rank existed in this part of the world, but she looked startled, and then grateful, as she extended her hands willingly toward me. I forced warmth into her, drawing the cold out from her lungs, her sinuses, and everywhere else that could pose a problem. “You’ll still need to get out of those clothes.”
“No need,” Mannix said, somewhat sheepishly. His eyes shone a golden brown, and droplets dripped off her, snaking out of her clothes. “I’m a Mudforger. I should have done this earlier.”
The whole clan had taken to us like old friends by the time we were done. Mother Salla had once been a Devoted, Arjun said. She was the Oryx clan leader. She might have taught them to resent Latona, but that dislike didn’t seem to extend to Haidee, or to Odessa.
“This is a sign, innit?” Kadmos asked. “The world really is turning.”
“It’s more complicated than that.” Salla sounded weary, sipping her tea. “There will be more rain, and more unexpected phenomena as Aeon changes.”
“Shouldn’t we be celebrating?” Imogen asked. “We’ve got water! We won’t have to squeeze every clean drop out from Salt Sea dregs anymore!”
“Should we be celebrating?” Salla asked Arjun. “As much as the rains give me hope, your account of your experiences at Brighthenge also fills me with dread.” Her gaze moved to both Haidee and Odessa, who traded nervous glances. “I knew your mothers. It would take considerable strength to undo the chaos they caused.”
Haidee raised her chin. It still felt odd to look at someone who looked so much like Odessa yet was not like her at all. “I’d like to know exactly what happened at the Breaking, for us to know if we’ve helped mitigate the damage or done worse. I . . .” The resolute expression on her face faltered, leaving her looking suddenly vulnerable. “I—I thought we were doing the right thing. But now Brighthenge’s overrun with galla, and I know that wasn’t supposed to happen. And Mother . . . Mother’s convinced we’ve made things worse. I’ve never seen her this furious before, or this afraid. Did we? Do worse, I mean?”
Arjun scowled. “Don’t let her words get to you.”
“Too late for that. And . . . I’m afraid she may be right. I thought getting the world to turn would solve everything.”
Salla smiled faintly. “Don’t second-guess yourself, Your Holiness. Your actions pale in comparison to those of your elders. How much of the Breaking do you know about?”
Haidee bit her lip. “Only what Mother told me. That her sister caused the Breaking, and that she was killed in its aftermath, along with my twin.”
Salla looked at Odessa. After a moment’s hesitation, Odessa also nodded. “I was told the same thing, except that my aunt was responsible, and that she and my twin were killed.”
The older woman leaned back against her seat and closed her eyes, pondering her next words. Latona and Asteria couldn’t both be their mothers; an answer meant that one of the goddesses had been living a lie all this time. Would Asteria be capable of lying to Odessa over something this important? I thought about my relationship with her over the years, the ruthlessness she’d displayed when her position was threatened. How she frequently manipulated the Devoted into scheming against each other.
I hated that the answer was yes, she absolutely would.
Salla didn’t bother to mince her words; all the better to lay out the truth without the trappings of comfort, I supposed, all the better to dissect and analyze it in its entirety. Normally I would agree, but it didn’t stop my stomach from clenching when she said, “You are both Latona’s daughters. It was she who was to be sacrificed before the Abyss. Asteria possessed the mark of the galla near her heart. Only the leaders knew what that meant, back then. That was how they knew it was Latona, and not Asteria, who was the sacrifice. The galla’s gifts would cure Asteria’s mark, but at a cost.”
“The cost being her sister’s life,” Arjun said bleakly.
That’s not true! I wanted to cry out. Asteria would have told me—
No, she wouldn’t. In fact, she’d been lying to us all this time.
The goddesses’ reactions were subtle enough, but still telling; a stiffening of Haidee’s shoulders, and the sudden hunching of Odessa’s, like she wanted to shrink into herself and disappear. I moved to where Odessa sat, kneeling beside her and taking her hand. In the brief time I’d seen mother and daughter together, Asteria had always displayed a certain detachment toward Odessa, more so than even her pragmatic personality required. It had none of the fiery anger and frustration that marked Haidee and Latona’s relationship, as had been clear during the brief encounter we had witnessed near their strange, domed city in the desert.
Haidee turned to Odessa, reaching out to bridge the space between them. Odessa hesitated, and accepted her hand as well, gratitude clear on her face.
“I am sorry,” Salla said, “that you were both made to suffer for your mothers’ foolishness. Perhaps I should have told you all about this earlier, Arjun, but I never thought I would see both younger goddesses alive. Nor had I thought that I would ever see rain again. What do you wish to know?”
“Is that how callously people treated all the goddesses before us?” Haidee’s hand, still enveloped in Odessa’s, was shaking slightly. “A mark was enough to merit an execution? Didn’t anyone fight for them? Were they so willing to watch them die?”
“Most people weren’t even aware that two goddesses existed. Every pair of twins was separated at birth and each raised without knowledge of the other. That was the custom.”
“But you knew. The Devoted who served the goddess who was to die,” Odessa whispered. “How could they allow this?”
“We were told that her sacrifice was our duty. That it was the price to pay for Aeon to flourish. But many who served Latona resisted. Devika forced some to resign their service. We never heard from them again. It was her way of cowing them, we knew, so the rest stopped resisting so openly. But now . . . I wonder what truly happened to those others she dismissed.”
“They should have done more,” Odessa said. “The ones who knew what the ritual really meant should have done more!”