The next morning, Sarka woke alone. Konn's bed was empty and neatly made, and he had left coffee. The bread was stale, but Sarka had never been choosy when it came to food.
Uncertain of what to do with herself now that she had no work, Sarka milled about in Konn's living quarters. She swept, tidied the shelves, and surveyed the priest's small pantry to see what she could scrape together for lunch later in the day. By then, Konn still wasn't back.
She went out into the main temple, closing the door to Konn's private passage behind her. There she saw Atai seated at the front of the room with his head resting on his knee. There was a lone worshiper in attendance, but that worthy soul appeared to be over eighty years old and was currently enjoying a very pious nap.
"My lord," Sarka said, hesitating. The respectful title felt strange on her tongue, but she did not know how else to address a deity. Her glance darted past him toward the door out of the temple.
"Come in, Sarka." Atai's voice seemed to fill the room.
She did, reluctantly. "Just looking for Konn."
"Out running errands, I expect. He likes to go out when it's early, before the markets become too crowded."
Sarka skirted the banks of chairs, edging toward the door and fumbling for some excuse for leaving. Without turning to follow her progress across the room, Atai said, "You have a weight on your shoulders that grows difficult to bear."
She stopped, apprehension trickling down her spine.
"You have no reason to fear me. Talk with me a while, and let us see what can be done to ease your troubled mind."
Sarka stood where she was.
"Come, Sarka." Atai rose to his feet and approached her, reaching out his right hand; his head was cradled in the crook of his left arm. "Sit with me."
Sarka placed her hand in Atai's. She had expected him to feel like a corpse, but he felt like a living man; his hand was warm and gentle. He led her to a chair, and they sat, Atai with his head in his lap. For a while, there was silence. Sarka got the sense that Atai was waiting for her to speak.
"I don't ask anything of you," she said at last.
"I can see that. How old are you, child?"
"I don't know. Five and twenty. Six and twenty."
"That is a long time for a human soul to live without turning to the gods. Perhaps it is time. Lay down a few of your cares."
Sarka glanced up at his stump of a neck, then down at his head, frowning. "I do not need help handling my problems."
"I could indulge you and pretend I believe you, but we both know that is not true, my child." Atai smiled. His words carried no sting; they were simple truth, delivered with compassion.
Sarka bridled-but something about his manner made it difficult to refuse him. Despite her reservations, she spoke. "I made a promise. A promise I'm not sure I can keep."
"Mm. I imagine you gained something in exchange. What was it?"
Sarka thought this was a curious thing for the god to ask. "My life."
"A grave matter, then. One might assume that breaking your promise would end badly for you-a worse fate, perhaps, than that which you faced when you promised."
Sarka nodded. A sense of despair settled again over her heart. She had no idea how to free Tayo. She had no idea where to begin.
"No problem is insurmountable," he said with a serene expression.
"You don't know that."
Atai laughed. It was a warm, engaging laugh; Sarka wondered at hearing it from the lips of a head that no longer had lungs. "I think I should surround myself with more heathens, Sarka. You challenge me."
She was unabashed. "Well, when you sit here like a human man and argue with me, I cannot help but treat you like one."
The god's laughter faded to a chuckle. "I do not advise you to undertake the same strategy with every deity you meet. Now, tell me, Sarka of Kogoren. How can I help you with this problem of yours?"
Sarka looked at Atai, pressing her lips together. He watched her with curious blue eyes. There was no hint of malice or deceit in his face. "Why do you want to help me?"
"Is it so difficult for you to believe that there are beings in this world who do not wish you harm, Sarka? You have such a suspicious heart, even after your journey. Surely you did not come across the sea unaided."
Sarka felt the words like a dagger to the heart. He spoke with such sincerity, such calm. Etza's face, pale and dead, flashed through her mind. In its wake came Ro, rolling his eyes. She shook her head. "It isn't a matter of helping a person find her way, my lord, or just offering her shelter. This is more. It's bigger."
"Then it is good I am not a mortal man. I can handle more."
She had no wish to be indebted to more people, nor to bring more people into the path of danger by drawing them into her story-but Atai was, after all, a god. Surely the Beloved were no threat to him.
"He came to me at night aboard the ship from Kogoren. One of the Beloved. His name is Tayo. Do you know of the Beloved, my lord?"
Atai's smile dissolved. "I know of them. Young men, hardly more than boys, sacrificed as husbands to Kogoren."
"Yes. I learned from Tayo that they were all left behind when Kogoren retreated into the Opal Realm. She left them, and she cursed the land. In my homeland, everything starves. I tried to flee."
Atai waited as Sarka struggled with her shadows. After a moment, he lifted one hand from where it rested on his knee and touched her shoulder. Sarka darted a glance at his face. "Well...the Beloved-Tayo-he said that the deaths of refugees are a way to buy a path back to Kogoren for the Beloved she left behind. They chase runaways and drive them mad. They torment them until they die. And when they do this, the Beloved return to Kogoren's side."
"Mm."
"I thought I would die. I couldn't fight him." Sarka reached up to touch her throat, remembering the way her desperate, scratching fingers had been useless against Tayo's strangling hands. "I tried to be clever. I just wanted to buy myself time. I promised that I'd find a way to free him."
Atai closed his eyes, and an expression of thoughtful reflection passed over his features. Silence fell, unnerving Sarka. That he hadn't responded made her fear that he had no answers for her, after all. She was about to continue, to backtrack, to ask him to never mind it, when Atai spoke at last. "Your promise was to free one of the Beloved in exchange for your life."
It sounded more foolish than ever when someone else said it. "Yes."
He seized his hair in one hand and rose to his feet, letting his head hang down near his knee. "This is a challenge indeed, Sarka, and a grave one. But perhaps we can find our path forward if we go backward to start. Do you know what the ritual entailed? The marriage rite?"
"I do."
Sarka blanched at the sound of a newcomer's voice. She looked up to see Konn standing in the doorway. He had a basket under one arm and a bleak look on his face. Sarka said, "Konn. I didn't know you were there."
"This was not a secret to be kept, Sarka."
Her first instinct was to argue. Her secrets were her own, after all, and it was her choice whether to reveal them. But as she opened her mouth to snap back at Konn, Atai silenced her with a gesture. "Yon turncoat priest will be an ally to you, Sarka."
"Him? How? He's just a man. He could die. You said you weren't a mortal man, that you could help me!"
"Sarka, you forget yourself," Konn said.
"It's all right, Konn. She is frightened," said Atai.
"I'm not!" Sarka snapped.
"You are." For the first time, Atai's words were hard; his tone cut off all argument. He watched Sarka for a moment, as if daring her to rebuke him. When he spoke again, he was gentle. "Sarka, you are afraid. Speak the truth. A lie is a stain on the soul, and in this matter, it does you more harm than good. Fear gives a person clarity. It is the heat that tempers steel. Your fear will sharpen you. Do you understand?"
Sarka fell back into her seat, shaking her head. She felt Konn's warm hand come to rest on her shoulder. Atai continued, "There is no shame in being afraid, but there is shame in pretending to be something you are not. Do not battle your fear. Learn to work with it. Now: Konn, you came upon us at an opportune time."
"I know of the ritual, my lord," Konn said. "I performed it for many years. It is little different from the ritual used to bring a god into being."
Sarka did not want to hear how the Beloved had come to be what they were; the very thought made her stomach turn. But Atai's lecture had humbled her, even if she was not certain she agreed with him, and she was not prepared to challenge either of them again.
"Go on, my son," said Atai.
"On the night of the last full moon of the year, the lore-keeper of the temple would consult the stones to determine the whereabouts of the boy. It was all determined in alignment with the signs and portents: the stars, auguries, and so on. Then, a priest and three of the holy temple guard would ride to find him and take him back.
"Normally, our coming was a surprise to the boy and his family, but little time was permitted for farewells. It made it easier for them all, and faith in Kogoren was high in those times-faith in her mercies and also her punishments. There was no evading a marriage to the goddess. Not until the last of them.
"We took the boy to the temple, where he lived in state for the time leading up to the sacrifice. He was treated like a king, although he was not permitted to look upon the goddess until the day of the ceremony.
"The wedding took place on the evening of the third full moon of the year. The boy would be brought to the main temple, where Kogoren and her previous husband awaited him. The boy knelt before her and recited his vows of love and obedience, then drank a potion that would numb his senses. Kogoren granted her consort a final embrace before he joined the ranks of the previous Beloved. Her priests chanted ritual words to loosen the boy's spirit, separating his essence from the husk of his flesh. Finally, one of the priests ended it with a dagger. What blood there might be was caught in a silver chalice and used to anoint the pilgrims who waited outside.
"The boy rose up, newly made, and went to stand at the right hand of the goddess as her consort, there to attend her for the year."
Sarka shivered. Thinking of a frightened human boy undergoing that ritual was horrible, but she now had a face to attach to the story: Tayo's. In her mind's eye, she saw him, impassive, as he stood in his finery at the side of the goddess. He had been hers to love for a year, and then...
"One can imagine why such creatures are hungry for the chance to get back to their lady's side," Atai said.
"It's sad," said Sarka, but "sad" was just a word she used to take the place of "pitiful," which was not the same. "He wanted so badly to get back to her. I do not know how he could be anything other than he is-but now, I have given him the idea of freedom, and a promise..."
"And if you do not free him by breaking his ties to Kogoren, he will return and drive you to your death," Konn said.
Sarka nodded. "He said he would bring a dozen of his brothers and take back my soul in fragments to Kogoren."
Atai laughed.
Shocked and stung, Sarka looked at Atai. His blue eyes twinkled merrily from somewhere around his knees. Far above his face, his shoulders shrugged apologetically. "It's very dramatic," he said.
"Dramatic? I should think so," Sarka muttered. "You're laughing at my fragmented soul." But the god's laughter had broken the tension.
Konn looked at Atai. "My lord, what say you? What can be done? In all my time serving Kogoren, I did not hear of any instance in which one of her consorts broke away from her. The pattern was perfect. Year after year, until the last boy, Artor, escaped without a trace. None of the others, to my knowledge, have ever broken their vows."
Sarka glanced at Konn in surprise. Artor had been her father's name. He had died in the Cataclysm, and Sarka seldom thought on him, never having met him. But Artor was not an uncommon name, and she put the matter from her mind.
Atai said, "If the Beloved were transformed in such a manner, they are no longer human. It will not be as simple as undoing some spell. But, Sarka, until we determine how to make good on your promise to Tayo, you can take solace in the knowledge that Kogoren herself cannot reach you here. The gods of Galdren stood together against her to protect our own people, and by agreement, we bound her. She may pass only between her land and the Opal Realm, lest she wish to challenge all of us together. She is powerful...but not powerful enough to stand against Galdren's many gods."
Sarka feared Kogoren in the abstract. Now that she had seen with her own two eyes the powers of gods and their servants, she knew Kogoren was just as real as Atai, biding her time in the Opal Realm. But was Kogoren's wrath truly so great as to cause her to chase Sarka across the world? Sarka was nothing. She meant more to Tayo and the Beloved than she could possibly mean to Kogoren. To them, she was their pass back into the good graces of their mistress. To Kogoren, she was one sinner among thousands.
"I just want to free Tayo and get on with my life," said Sarka.
A thoughtful expression had crossed over Atai's face. He looked at Konn. "You were her priest. Could the answer to freeing Tayo lie in her God-Song?"
Konn shook his head, but this suggestion seemed to spark another thought. "No-not to my memory, and I think I could still recite her scriptures by heart. But her God-Song...that is an interesting question in itself. I have often wondered what became of it. We kept it in the temple on the Queen's Crest. If she destroyed her temple when she destroyed the continent, it should have gone up in flames."
"What does that mean?" Sarka asked, but as she spoke, she recalled Konn's lesson from the day before: God-Songs must be renewed.
"She should be dying," explained Atai. "A god cannot live long without his Song-it is the source of his powers. Had her holy text been destroyed, she would have faded within a year or two by a mortal's reckoning."
Behind them, the door opened. In came a lone worshiper, her face streaked with tears. Konn glanced toward her, placing his hand over Sarka's. "We will help you, my child. Do not fret. My lord, will you think on this trouble? So will I. Together, perhaps we can come to some solution."
Atai nodded, rising from his seat. "I will. Sarka, may the knowledge that you are among friends be a comfort to you."