Page 85 of Scourged

Mariah opened her mouth, about to ask what the goddess meant, but snapped her lips shut. She could tell, from the look on Qhohena’s face, that she would not get more on that subject tonight.

So she turned away, looking out instead across the clearing. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, annoyed that it was there.

“But …” Another swallow. A lift of her chin to drain the emotions away. “Why him?”

She felt Qhohena’s demeanor shift. She glanced to find the goddess now slightly slumped, regarding Mariah with so much sadness.

“We do not get to choose these things, my daughter. Not even the gods.”

“If not the gods, then who?”

Qhohena blinked, slowly, before turning away to stare at the sky. Her form flickered. She didn’t answer.

Mariah watched her intently, brow furrowing, before asking another question lurking in her mind.

“Why are you here, in my dreams? And why was Zadione able to visit me in the flesh?”

Qhohena’s body solidified again. “Our bond with you is built through trust. Mutual trust. Zadione has been visiting you for a long time. You inherently trust her more than you trust me. Which is understandable, and I do not fault you for that.” Qhohena steeled a breath. “However … I hope to change that. So next time I might visit you outside of this plane. We can never appear to anyone other than you, but we want you to know that we will always be here for you. To guide, and to offer strength.”

Mariah held her tongue at the surge of frustration. The goddess could promise such things all she wanted, but she’d still let Mariah be captured, abused, broken.

Qhohena saw it all.

“While I wish my sister had waited to visit you … I want you to know that I am glad she did. She could save you in that place because of it. I wanted to help. Please believe that. But you werenot ready for me, and the support of my sister was more than enough to get you out.”

Mariah stared down at her hands, wringing themselves in her lap. Qhohena’s revelations changed nothing … Didn’t they? How hard was it for Mariah to believe that the goddesses were strengthened only through trust, and without it, their actions were limited? It was a convenient truth, to be sure. But did its convenience make it a fallacy?

“I forgive you.” Mariah’s words were breathed out on a gentle, honeysuckle breeze.

Qhohena’s light pulsed, as if with relief. “Thank you, daughter?—”

“But I want to know,” Mariah said. “Why now? What changed? Why not let Zadione continue to be the one to speak to me?”

Qhohena lips parted, her brow scrunched, before lifting a golden hand. It reached for Mariah, sweeping a strand of night-dark hair away from her face. The goddess rested her fingertips on Mariah’s cheek, and Mariah drew in a sharp inhale at the touch. It was like being touched by life itself. Invigorating. Exalting. Like drinking an elixir of immortality.

“Because you are hurting, my daughter. Not physically—my sister tended to those wounds, as is her specialty. But your conflicted emotions about thereykrare tearing you apart. Breaking you, from the inside out, more than what you endured in that place ever could. I am here with you tonight because I needed to remind you of who you are. This world needs you—all of you—now, more than ever.

Mariah gulped, hesitating to ask her next question, but knowing she had to.

“And what doeshehave to do with reminding me who I am?”

Qhohena smiled. “Because he is your past, your present, and your future. There are forces at play that are far greater thanus gods, and as I said, all things in nature eventually repeat themselves.”

The meadow was beginning to shrink, the surrounding light dimming. Qhohena’s touch on Mariah’s face increased in pressure, even as her body faded.

“You will not find yourself until you learn to trust him again.”

The goddess’s voice faded into a whisper on the wind as Mariah slammed back into her body, gasping in her bed.

“Make that love your retribution, Mariah.”

Chapter 34

Mariah woke to the sound of screaming.

The words from the goddess still burned in her mind as she flew from her bed, feet carrying her to her bedroom window. She pushed open the panes and leaned into the crisp morning air. The wind wrapped around her, carrying the scent of melting snow and early blooms.

The screams drifted past on that sweet-smelling breeze.

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