Waterborne (Wanderlust 3)

Chapter Thirteen

"I saw a painting of them in Xaoto," Tanden said. "I didn't realize who it was at the time."

Amna nodded. "Xaoto is seen by the world, and it is a newer city. They would not have the old paintings out in the open."

"It's an interesting story. I've never heard anything like it."

Tanden had a theory that all the gods could coexist. It was a little hard to imagine a goddess as violent as Axmazi working with the kind Zianesa, watchful Jawn, Moatt's life-giving Attinabi, or the Teltish Goddess. Maybe she was an older deity. Around eons before the friendlier gods and goddesses arrived.

"It is a warning," Amna said solemnly. "To never let anger get carried away."

"It's a good warning," Tanden said. Although he tried to ignore the incoming barrage of images, he couldn't. Soren, beaten and bloody. Toliver's crewmate dying on the Hireath's deck. The port of West Draulin going up in flames. Without thinking, he reached for Soren's hand.

Soren could read him so well. Without any understanding of the conversation, he obviously understood Tanden's demeanor. Understood enough to know that they weren't in danger of being beheaded, but that Tanden needed steadying anyway. Soren's fingers squeezed in Tanden's, and the images flickered away.

Amna was watching him again, the scrutinizing, knowing look from the bridge. "You have let your anger get the better of you," she guessed.

Tanden took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes."

"You feel guilt and anger over what happened, to this day. That is Axmazi's anguish coursing through you. She only recovered after creating the world from Praxel, and keeping his spirit intact."

"I don't think that's an option for me," Tanden said.

"If you can't repair what you did, we have a ceremony that can help. If you give Axmazi your own blood, she will reabsorb her anguish."

"How much blood?"

"Less than you lost when you got that scar on your arm, I assume."

Tanden was always interested in taking part in religious ceremonies. Curiosity drove him to nod, rather than the belief that Axmazi would help him. "Yes. I'd like to do the ceremony. I just need a moment to explain to Soren."

Amna nodded. "Of course. I will prepare the ritual."

Tanden turned to Soren. "I'm about to sacrifice blood to their goddess, I'll explain later." He tried to step after Amna.

Soren's grip in his hand tightened, and pulled him back a step. "Explain now," Soren said, voice firm.

Tanden didn't want to. But he knew Soren's tone, and he knew Soren would sooner carry him out of the temple than let him participate in the ritual with no explanation.

"Amna told me a story about their goddess, Axmazi. She killed her lover and then felt such grief that she revived his head somehow and made it the world, and then she put his spirit into a jaguar. They sacrifice animals to her because she needs blood to keep Praxel—her lover's—head alive. The story is a warning against letting anger overcome common sense, and this ritual is supposed to help clear away guilt. I suppose Axmazi takes it back. Something along those lines."

"Is this about the fire?"

Tanden couldn't meet his gaze. "Please let me do this."

"D'you think it'll help?"

Tanden almost smiled at Soren's little slip. His accent slipping out usually meant he was annoyed or embarrassed. Concerned was a new one. "You know that's complicated, mate."