Amber and Iron - Margaret Weis [93]
“But what if,” the small Mina had argued, “my father was a king and my mother a queen? What if I am a princess? Wouldn’t that make a difference?”
Goldmoon had smiled and said, “I was a princess, Mina, and I thought that made a difference. I found out, when I opened my heart to Mishakal, that such titles are meaningless. It is what we are in the sight of the gods that truly matters. Or rather, what we are in our hearts,” Goldmoon had added with a sigh, for the gods had been gone a long time by then.
Mina had tried to understand and tried to put all thoughts of her parents from her mind, and for a time, she had succeeded. She had, of course, asked the One God, but Takhisis had given Mina much the same answer as Goldmoon, only not as gently. The One God had considered this longing of Mina’s a weakness, a cancer that would eat away at her unless it was swiftly and brutally cut out.
Perhaps it was the terrible memory of Takhisis’s punishment that made Mina reluctant to speak of this to Chemosh. He was a god. He could not possibly understand. Her secret was only a little one. It was harmless. She would tell him everything once she knew the truth. Then, together, they could both laugh over the fact that she was a fishmonger’s daughter.
Keeping to back stairs and ruined passages, Mina made her way to what had once been the kitchen and from there to a buttery, where the castle’s former owners had stored barrels of ale, casks of wine, baskets of apples and potatoes, smoked meats, bags of onions. The ghosts of good smells still lingered, but there were so many ghosts flitting about the palace of the Lord of Death that Mina paid scant attention. She hungered, but not for food.
Mina had no idea where Chemosh was. Perhaps he was recruiting disciples or judging souls or playing khas with Krell, or doing all three at once. She would have given odds that she knew where he wasn’t—in the storeroom. His sudden appearance, therefore, standing right in front of her, came as a considerable shock.
She expected recriminations, accusations, a tirade. He regarded her with mild interest, as though they’d met over breakfast, and asked, “You are up early, my dear. Going out?”
“I thought I would go for a swim in the sea, my lord,” Mina replied faintly, giving the excuse she had prepared.
She could not know, of course, that this was the one excuse that Chemosh would find most suspicious.
“Isn’t it a bit cold for sea-bathing?” he asked archly, a peculiar smile on his lips.
“Though the air is cold, the water is warm and will seem that much warmer,” Mina faltered, her cheeks burning.
“You still wear the pearls, I see. They hardly go with such a plain gown. Aren’t you afraid you will lose them?”
“The clasp is strong, my lord,” Mina said. Her hand went involuntarily to the necklace. “I don’t think—”
“Why are you in the storeroom?” he asked, glancing around.
“This way is closer to the shore, my lord,” Mina returned. She had overcome her shock and was now starting to feel irritated. “My lord, am I your prisoner, that you feel the need to question my comings and goings?”
“I lost you once, Mina,” Chemosh said quietly. “I don’t want to lose you again.”
Mina was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. “I am yours, my lord, always and forever, until—”
“Until you die. For you will die someday, Mina.”
“That is true, my lord,” she replied. She looked at him uneasily, wondering if this was a threat.
He was opaque, unreadable.
“Have a good swim, my dear,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.
Mina remained for long moments after he left, her hand clutching the pearls. Her heart failed her. Her conscience rebuked her. She almost turned to run back to her room.
To do what? To pace away the hours, as she had done in the Tower of High Sorcery? To be a pawn of first one god, then another, then another, and another after that. Takhisis, Chemosh, Zeboim, Nuitari … “What is it they want of me?” Mina demanded in frustration.
She stood alone in the cold and empty storeroom, staring, unseeing, into the darkness. “I