Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [111]
There was nothing I could say to him to counter that belief. Faith cannot be proved, else it would not be faith. It can only be experienced. Whether or not Aleksei would allow himself to experience it, I could not say.
In truth, I did not even know which choice was right for him. He was a child of Naamah’s line and he carried her gifts in his flesh and blood; but in his soul, he was a child of the One God and Yeshua, and no mistaking it. What I thought would bring healing to the damaged part of his spirit might well prove damaging in a different way if it strained and broke the covenant he knew so well and loved so deeply.
I hoped not, but it was possible.
In the scripture, the One God makes it clear that he is a jealous god; indeed, it is the first commandment he inscribed in stone on Moishe’s tablets: I am the Lord your God, and you shall have no other gods before me.
And yet was that so different from the truth the Maghuin Dhonn Herself inscribed in the very souls of Her children, written in the living fire of divinity? I didn’t know, but I didn’t think so.
In every part of me, I knew it was true; I could set no other gods above Her, not without killing the divine spark within me. But nor did She begrudge me my heritage as Naamah’s child. So long as I knew myself a child of the Maghuin Dhonn, She was content to allow me to worship others alongside Her.
If Aleksei chose to accept my offer, I hoped he would find that when freed from the tyranny of mortal men, their ambitions, and the harsh strictures they sought to set upon the nature of love and pleasure, the love of God and his son Yeshua was as vast, generous, and all-encompassing as that of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself, my infinite bear-goddess whose worship was so often met with incredulity.
But I wasn’t sure.
THIRTY-NINE
The following day, we arrived in Udinsk.
Although it wasn’t a very large city, it was bustling with traders and activity. I was glad to see it wasn’t all Vralians. There were Tatar faces here and there, trading sheep, cattle, and goats for furs and timber. Any sort of diversity made it easier to blend into the crowd, and their brown skin made the honey-colored hue of my own less noticeable.
There were vendors selling food-stuff along the wharf where we disembarked, leaving behind our taciturn fur-trappers. I wished to all the gods that Aleksei hadn’t spent our last coin on the passage. The smell of food—ground, seasoned meat grilled on a stick, cooked cabbage stew with dumplings floating in it—made my mouth water and my belly growl. Blessed Valentina had done her best, but it had been a long journey coming on the heels of three days’ worth of fasting, and we’d eaten the last of her bread and cheese yesterday.
I was starved for food, real food. I couldn’t help but eye the vendors’ fare longingly, breathing the savory aroma deep into my lungs.
“Moirin.” Aleksei cleared his throat. “You’re not exactly looking demure.”
“I’m hungry!” I said plaintively. “I’m hungry and tired, and I would like a hot meal, a bath, and a clean place to sleep.”
“I know, I know,” he said soothingly, jingling the bundle of chains. “Let’s find a place where you can call your magic safely, and I’ll look for a smith willing to pay good coin for silver.”
“No. Oh, no.” I shook my head. “No, I want to watch them melt. I need to see it done myself. I need to know for sure no one else will ever be forced to wear those chains.”
“Moirin, be reasonable!” he pleaded with me. “Once we’ve gotten rid of the chains, I won’t worry so much. Until we do, the less you show yourself, the less chance there is that word will get back to Riva.”
“You’re not all that inconspicuous yourself, my blue-eyed boy.” I pointed at the bundle. “Not peddling those.”
In the end, we struck a compromise. I would summon the twilight and accompany Aleksei cloaked in its concealment.
We found a narrow alley and ducked into it. Aleksei turned his back on me, shielding me from view, and I called the twilight. It was still a blessed relief to feel it settle over me, to watch