Nobody's Goddess (10 page)

It seemed strange to me. “But how do we know for sure? A man has no choice but to love, but a woman’s heart … ”
A woman’s heart could love one day and hate the next. Couldn’t it? Could I hate Jurij? Even after what he told me
…

“
I
know.” Mother chewed the inside of her cheek. “That is, we know. We know the men stay safe after a Returning. It’s happened before.” She patted the back of my hand. “Not that there’s anything for that woman to do, but to accept the man she’s deemed worthy by then. No one else will ever love her anyway.”

Something seemed off about what she said. Maybe I was supposed to be worrying about her and Father.
As if I didn’t have enough to worry about.

We stopped to let a cart pass onto the dirt road in front of us. I lifted my head up as much as I dared and saw the door to the bakery shut, a cart full of heaping hot loaves and sweet buns, and a man in a mask in front of us. “Darwyn?” I ventured a guess. The baker had many sons, but this one was of a height with Jurij.

He stopped pulling and turned. I couldn’t look up at his mask, though; he was too tall, and the castle was off in the distance behind him. “Miss, Ma’am,” he said, lifting up his cart handles and pulling his cart forward.

“Miss?” I muttered. “We were friends for twelve years, you—”

Mother stopped me. “You know they forget things like that once they find goddesses. What you and Jurij have is quite unusual.”

What Jurij and I have was only at the command of his goddess.
I wondered if in a few months we’d all be attending Darwyn’s wonderful Returning. Roslyn would soon be old enough, and they seemed as in love as every other coupling in the village. In fact, I overheard one of Elfriede’s sappy friends whisper that the two of them had even experimented a bit in the darkness. Guess the lips of one he used to find so girly and repulsive just couldn’t be waited for.

“Where’s he going?” I asked. The Returning ceremony was surely almost over, and I knew we hadn’t ordered
that
much bread. There was enough to feed a hundred more guests at least.

“To the castle,” replied Mother.

A cart or two passed by our house on the way to the path through the woods almost every day. Goods the lord ordered to feed him and his servants. The deliveries would keep the lord appeased, so he’d never have to venture out to see us himself. They’d continually make sure this village had the first goddess’s blessing.

“Have you ever seen him?”

Mother laughed. “No woman is allowed to look at the castle, much less set foot in it. Why would I have seen him?” We didn’t say anything for a moment more, listening to the wheels turning on the cart a short distance in front of us. “I heard you were with Ingrith right before she died today.”

That was rather blunt. I stopped walking, pulling on Mother’s arm to make her stop as well. “She was acting crazy, Mother. Even worse than usual.” Did she suspect I’d witnessed it? “She … she scared me.”

“I’m sorry I sent you alone.” Mother took both of my hands in hers. “We were just all so busy.” She looked up and down at my wreck of a dress. “I figured there might be some explanation for how your dress got to be so tattered. Did you fall into one of the ponds during the earthquake?”

Close enough.
“Yeah. I didn’t have time to change.” Best to shift the focus elsewhere. “Mother, Ingrith called the lord a heartless monster.”

Mother’s lips puckered. “That’s a rather rude way to address our benefactor, but I’ve heard the term before.” She put her arm back through mine and gently tugged me forward.

“Who calls him that? And what does it mean?”

Mother shook her head. “No one who’s properly grateful calls him that. And it doesn’t mean anything. Not what you’re expecting. Do you remember me telling you about kings and queens?”

The little elf queen.
That’s what I called myself. But kings and queens were just mythical figures in stories Mother used to tell Elfriede and me. “Yes.”

“They make for wild tales.” She pinched my shoulder playfully. “The type that keep little girls lost in their own little fantasies. But they’re not real. They’re just what some person thought of, to fantasize about a world where women and men might have once been equal.”

I wasn’t sure where she was heading with this. “So the lord isn’t real?”

Mother snorted. “Of course he’s real. He watches over us, and he pays us well for our wares.”

I nodded. “The men leave the supplies in the castle foyer and pick up the copper pieces left there.” Jurij had even gone once when he was smaller, to leave a few new sets of jerkins and trousers entirely in black. Odd, since the servants wore only white. “So even the men haven’t seen him before?”

“No, they haven’t.” Mother heaved a deep sigh. “And when you don’t lay your eyes upon something yourself, it’s easy to make up stories, to fantasize about a man who doesn’t die.”

“What?” Forgetting myself, my gaze was a little higher up than it ought to have been. Darwyn and his cart were still ahead of us, heading through the eastern part of the village, but we’d arrived back at the center. I stopped and faced Mother. “The lord doesn’t die?”

“Don’t be silly.” Mother smiled and started tugging me back toward the Great Hall, though it was hard for me to tear my eyes from the cart, even if it was off in the eastern direction. “The lord watches over the village from the shadows, but he must pass the job to his son when he’s older, or maybe a child of one of the lord’s servants. They’re a secretive lot, never speaking, always just showing us the lord’s requests on parchments—that’s why we all learn to read. I refuse to believe that never finding your goddess makes you immortal. Every woman gets her man.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Did Mother even know of any women who’d been a lord’s goddess? Who’d been a goddess of a specter? I never thought about it before. How were they going to have children without goddesses? Yet they were unmasked, so they must have had them at one point. When? “But does every man get his goddess?”

Mother stood in front of me, sliding her hands onto both of my shoulders. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with all of these questions. The lord is good to us. He watches over us on behalf of the first goddess. His secrets are his own. There is but one thing we all know for certain: If a woman lays eyes upon the lord of the castle, the penalty is death.”

I shivered. The night was young, but it was promising to be cold. And I was in a damp and tattered dress with no time to stop at home and change.

If Darwyn was making a late-night delivery, surely the lord would be awake and expecting his order. But would he be expecting me? Was he watching? Did he know? I’d fled the Great Hall almost as soon as Mother and I had arrived back, letting Father know I wanted to go home to change in case anyone missed me. He waved a hand and took his place at Mother’s side without saying anything. I watched him go briefly, but my gaze soon fell on the face I ought to have known for ages, the face I’d never before seen. Jurij had the widest eyes that I had ever seen, almost perfectly spaced below the softest eyebrows and the longest eyelashes. His lips were curled into a smile that set off dimples in each of his cheeks. The cleft in his chin cried out for a finger’s caress.

His beauty was more than I imagined, his face impossible to forget. But it was because of Elfriede’s love that I was able to see him, and for that, the sight of his face made it so much harder. I tore my eyes from his beautiful features and turned to leave, quietly and unnoticed.

She needed only love him for today, and he’s safe forever. That means he’s free.

I shook my head to clear it. I’d been wrong about the Returning. But what would Jurij feel if he were actually free? I had a feeling that was something that only the goddess might be able to tell me. And since she was nowhere to be found, the lord was my only option. I trembled with expectation, with fear.
This is it. I have nowhere else to turn. I can’t just go to bed and wake up, day after day, pretending my heart is still whole. I refuse to. The elf queen wouldn’t.

I was on the road home, out past the eastern edge of the village. I jogged a few steps and then walked briskly, jogging and brisk walking, whatever it took to get down the road quickly without drawing too much attention. Looking at the ground as I went made jogging decidedly more difficult.

I hesitated in front of the door to my house, then flung it open to check inside. I didn’t have time to change, and I didn’t care if the lord saw me in the ripped damp dress I was still wearing. It was my battle dress, a garment to show how hard I’d fought to make things right. Because if I was wrong and I wasn’t able to free Jurij from this mess, it might be all I left behind.

I swallowed, but I was still determined. I couldn’t yet face Jurij again after what had happened, after he sealed a pact with my sister. Not unless I had something to give him. Not unless his heart was finally set free. I grabbed a dirty apron Mother had hung off the back of one of the chairs and wrapped it around my shoulders, using one fist like a broach at my neck to hold it in place. Better than wasting time searching for a proper cloak.

I dashed off outside, not caring to properly close the door behind me. I jogged into the woods and heaved a great sigh of relief once I could look up safely again. It was then that I heard the turn of the cart, and I dived into the foliage. My heart just about jumped out of my throat when I glimpsed the wooden fox-face heading down the pathway in the western direction, the empty cart behind him.
So the delivery is done. It’s time.
I waited for Darwyn to pass, not daring to move a muscle. Possibly not even breathing.

Once I heard the turn of the wheel fade away, I exhaled and jumped back onto the path. By then, the moon was so full that silver light poured from the sky and lit the way before me. Eventually the trees encroached upon the path so fully that I could no longer see the moon at all, but its silver light speckled through the leaves so softly I felt no reason to be afraid. I ventured on, pushing the occasional stray bough out of my way to go farther. And then the trees parted completely.

There were walls of dark stone as far as I could see. It took me a moment to realize that one layer of wall acted as a fence. Its gate swung open.

I braced myself. The ground shook.

Ancient, monstrously huge wooden doors beyond the outer wall parted slightly like I had seen Father’s lips part when he longed for Mother’s kiss. I stepped through, lifting one foot and then the other, willing myself to stay upright. A thin sliver of moonlight came with me and lit some of the way.

But even so, it was dark, darker than the cavern and the cloudiest of nights. I traced the shaking slit of moonlight with my feet as I continued to walk into the darkness, my gentle steps echoing like thunder in the empty space.

And then the shaking stopped. The door shut behind me.

“I’ve come to see the lord,” I whispered, as loudly as I dared. Now that I was here, my courage faltered. There was no answer. My heart was racing.
What am I doing here? This is foolish, I still have time, I should go back—

I thought I heard a trickle of water and paused. There was nothing but the stone floor and a pile of bread and buns at the door, and the more I stared at the moss-covered stones, the more apprehensive I felt. I closed my eyes, shutting out the only sliver of light, and listened for the noise. My hands out before me, I walked toward the soothing sound of the trickling water. I moved unheeded for some time until my hand brushed against a hard surface. Opening my eyes, I found another slit of moonlight pouring through another set of wooden doors.

Tentatively, I put one eye against the slit and saw a fountain surrounded by an empty space and then a circle of white rose bushes. The fountain resembled a little boy, his face unmasked, his arms and head raised towards the sky. In place of the eyes were two spouts of water that poured out and downward, sparkling deep blue in the moonlight.

I want to see his face.
It was a stupid thought, considering what danger I had put myself in. But I was overcome by it. I tried to pull open the doors, but they moved only a hair’s breadth even with all of my might. I threw my hands wildly over the doors to search for a better grip but found nothing amongst the rough surface of wood. Then I found the handle, but before I could grip it properly, my finger caressed a jagged sliver.

“Ow!” I sucked on my sore index finger and cursed a few times. It stung so much, I was tempted to rip it out with my teeth.

“Who goes there?”

The voice was haunting. Almost familiar.

I thrashed around to face it, but I couldn’t see anything. The echo of gentle footsteps came toward me.

“A woman?” the voice remarked as it drew nearer. I could feel the air part to allow that smooth, tenor tone to reach me, and I shivered.
This was insane, he’s going to report me, I’m going to die—

The echoes paused, and the toe of a black boot settled on the edge of the arrow-shaped trail of silver light.

“What have we here?” It wasn’t a threat, more like the indifferent curiosity I’d heard from Father when I was child, while he was tinkering with his latest woodcarving and I walked into the room carrying a slimy baby frog. It was a man, I knew, although the voice was nothing like Father’s. It seemed younger, but older at the same time. Sweeter, but teetering on the edge of iciness.