The Dark Remains - Mark Anthony [199]
“Her mystery?”
“Yes, the story of how she became a goddess.” The bard tore his gaze from Melia. “Each of the New Gods has a mystery—a story around which their cult is centered. Like Vathris, who slew the white bull, and a red river of blood poured forth, quenching his parched kingdom. Or Jorus Stormrunner, who was thrown into the sea to die, only he was transformed into a horse and rode the waves back to crush his enemies.”
“Or like Tira,” Lirith said.
Falken lifted a hand to his chin. “Yes, I suppose you’re right at that. Like Tira, who was burned in fire, and who ascended with a star into the sky.”
“But what’s Melia’s mystery? I don’t know it.”
“Listen,” the bard said.
Only as he said this did Lirith realize that Melia was no longer singing. Instead she spoke, her voice a singsong chant that rose and fell in time with the motions of her feet, her hands.
“… that I shall marry him not, my sister. For last night I heard him, drunk on wine and boasting with his men at table. It was he! It was he who slew our people, who spilled their blood upon the ground. It was he who took our mother and father from us. It was he who tore our brothers limb from limb and scattered their bodies for the vultures.”
Melia’s movements changed, reversing the circle, and her voice changed at the same time, growing higher, softer, as if it were another who spoke. And perhaps it was.
“But his word is law, Melindora. You dare not refuse him, or he will murder us both and what few of our people remain. He has chosen you, and nothing you might do would make him change his will—save only if you were made a woman by another man. But no man will touch the one he has chosen. To do so would be death.”
Again Melia’s voice and direction changed.
“No man will touch me? Very well, my sister. Then no man will I lie with, and no man will I marry, and no man will save me from this murderer’s bed. There, do you see him, so beautiful and brilliant? Ever has he been my companion. I shall marry the moon, my sister. I shall dance a dance of joining in his pale light, and by it I will be his wife.”
Lirith gazed at Melia in wonder. How could a young woman, grief-struck at being forced to marry the warlord who had slain her family, wed the moon instead? Yet that was why they were called mysteries. If desire was great enough, sometimes the impossible happened, and a god or goddess was born.
“Lirith?” a cool voice said. “Falken? What are you doing here? Last I recalled, this was my chamber.”
Melia stood hands on hips, wearing a frown.
Falken sighed. “Dear one …”
Those words were enough. Melia looked down at herself, then glanced back up, her amber eyes startled.
“I was … I was gone again, wasn’t I?”
Lirith did not hesitate. She rushed forward and caught the woman in a fierce embrace. “You were so brave to refuse to marry him.”
Melia stiffened, then melted into the embrace. “Or foolish, dear. And yet the gods do have a way of preserving fools. But all that is so long ago. And whatever the source of my memories, they are gone now, in the past where they belong.” Gently, she pushed Lirith away.
Falken’s mien was thoughtful. “Yes, Melia, all that was indeed a long time ago. And yet it seems it is as real for you as what is happening now.”
Melia turned away. “And at times even more real.” She turned back, her eyes clear now. “I do not know the source of my spells, Falken. They come without warning and are gone as quickly. But I know now I am not alone in them.”
“What?”
“Last night, I held counsel with my brothers and sisters. Those who would talk to me, at least. I suppose we are like a great, tangled family, and as in any family not all of us are on speaking terms. Especially now.”
Lirith wondered how Melia could speak with the other gods without even leaving the hostel. But then, couldn’t anyone speak to the gods in secret silence? It was called prayer. And Lirith had a feeling Melia’s prayers were paid a bit more attention than those of the average worshiper.
“What do you mean, Melia?” Falken said.
She moved to the window. Outside, brilliant