Mwyr - Chapter Nine

[lady_mab]

 

The chance for a break came a week after Cairo’s conversation with the winged monster. Tension gathered across his shoulders and in his jaw. Concentration escaped him at every opportunity.

The only thing on his mind was the fact that the Goddess walked on Mwyr, and no one was doing a thing about it. 

Nai and Terrik gave him leave after the last of the preparations for the upcoming fair. The loaded carts were ready to set out the next day. Several of the more seasoned help were already setting up the stall in the town. 

Cairo used the hour long walk south to rehearse what he wanted to say. He started out on the road filled to bursting with determination. His hands cut the air in front of him in a slew of frustrated gestures. 

He would seek an audience with the Goddess. After presenting himself as a representative of the Church, he would offer to escort her back to where she belonged. Naturally, she would agree. 

Though by the time the roof of the farm appeared over the horizon, Cairo’s energy flagged. He felt riddled by anxiety. He was going to meet the Goddess. The creator of Mwyr, the embodiment of the sun. Divine made flesh. 

And, one way or another, he was going to force her to come with him.

The farm was far smaller than Cassia’s. There was a single story farmhouse, with a porch that ran across the front of the building. A stable ambitious enough for four horses only held one. Propped on an upturned crate was a wagon with a missing wheel, which lay several feet away in an obvious state of repair. A well-trodden path followed the gentle swell of a hill, hiding the field from view. 

The Goddess had been living in a place like this for almost two whole weeks? 

Cairo’s lip curled in disapproval, and he nudged the wagon with a cautious toe. The sooner he could get her out of there, the better. 

He stomped around the corner of the house, hoping to find someone around to help him. The back porch was much the same as the front, only larger and hidden in long shadows. A worn saddle draped over the railing, and a tin whistle sat nestled on a rocking chair. Small tomatoes hung green and hard on their vines, peeking up from the far end of the porch. Still no sign of another human. 

“Hello?” He cupped his hands around his mouth and tried again. “Hello?! Anyone there?” 

Cairo studied the marks carved into a supporting beam of the porch in silence. A minute passed before heavy footsteps echoed from within the confines of the house. He turned to see a tall, broad shouldered man standing in the doorway. 

He studied him in silence, the sneer becoming a frown. They could have been the same height, but the porch lent a few extra inches to the farmer. “Are you him, then?” 

Chan, if that was his name, furrowed his brow and didn’t make a move from the threshold. “How can I help you?” 

“Are you the one who has been keeping the Goddess against the will of the Church?” 

His skin paled beneath the lingering sunburn. “Excuse me?” 

When Cairo took a step closer, so did Chan. He snorted and shook his head. “Is it true that you have been housing the Goddess here for the last two weeks? And that you have not made an effort to better accommodate our Mother?” 

Anger flashed in the man’s green eyes. An obvious tell, but he clenched his jaw and his fist. Preparing to lie, and to prove himself more dominant in the confrontation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I think you do.” He slid his hands into his pockets and let an easy grin fall into place. “The Goddess has been walking on Mwyr for the better part of two weeks, and she has been staying here with you. You sent a letter to the Church stating this, haven’t you?” 

His expression flickered, trying to keep up the show. But Cairo had already noticed the cracks in the facade. “How did you hear that?” 

That... was a question he had not anticipated. He didn’t know what he had expected. The farmer to be a bit of an oaf, perhaps, and just put up a defense but in the end hand over the Goddess when asked. “I work for the Church. They informed me.” 

“Oh?” Chan arched an eyebrow and took another step out onto his porch. “I sent that letter when she first arrived. There is no way it would have reached the Church and they would have sent a reply back to you in time.” 

“And how do you know the Church doesn’t have an eye on the Goddess?”

He levered Cairo with a look, unimpressed with whatever sort of image he was trying to present. “Then where is your proof?” 

Pressing his lips together, Cairo couldn’t find an acceptable excuse fast enough. He had a talisman that meant something while in Hullenscir, but what good would it do all the way out here? What was he supposed to say -- that a strange monster appeared on the roof and told him? That wouldn’t go over well. “I’ve come to bring her back to the Church. Where is she?” 

Chan sighed, and made a valiant effort of not rolling his eyes. “She’s right behind you.” 

He whipped around, heart dislodging and tumbling into his stomach. 

A slip of a young woman stood behind him, shoulders too straight and eyes too serious. At her side, a dog remained poised and at the ready. A moment passed and her expression softened as she focused on Chan. “I’m back.” 

“You got a horse...” Footsteps echoed on wood, and then the farmer brushed past. He held out a hand and the dog bounded over to him with a woof. 

“I did.” Cairo watched the smile blossom on her face and the distance in her gaze retreat. “Nandie gave her to me.” 

“Sera’s sister?” 

“Yes. The youngest.” Her eyes, impossibly dark, shifted up to Cairo. “You are from the Church, are you not?” 

He nodded, numb. “And you are her? You’re the Goddess?” 

Her gaze held his for a long moment, and he started to fidget beneath it. “You can call me Arika.” She held out her hand toward him, and the cloud over her face broke to let the smile return.

He took it without thinking. Her handshake was short and firm. “Arika.” That name was familiar, though the reason eluded him. 

“And you are?” 

“Cairo.” He hesitated, then jerked into a low bow. “I’ve come to escort you back to the Church, Mother.” When he looked up, he found her wincing. 

She waved her hand. “Please don’t. I’d prefer it if you called me Arika, but I’ve learned to stomach My Lady since everyone insists upon calling me that.” She patted the horse’s neck and surrendered the reins over to Chan. “But good. We leave tomorrow.” 

Again, that name. It occurred to him an instant later. He had read it before in a handful of texts in his childhood church’s library. “Wait--” Cairo’s breath caught in his throat, but the announcement caught Chan by surprise.  

“Arika, you can’t.” 

She turned to the farmer, and when she placed her hand on top of his, she looked so much like the image of the Goddess. Cairo’s stomach did uneasy flips, nearly missing what she said. “You’ve done more than enough for me, you and Sera both. But I can’t just stay here without knowing.” It didn’t sound like the end of a sentence, but Chan’s shoulders dropped in understanding all the same. 

“I will get you what you need for tomorrow then.” He only managed to spare Cairo a brief, accusatory glance before he led the horse toward the stables. The dog bounded after him for a moment before taking off into the fields. 

Which meant that Cairo found himself alone with the Goddess. 

She didn’t seem to care, already heading back toward the house. 

“Wait--” he tried again, and she stopped. “Lady, please. I wish to speak to you.” He wanted to know where she got her name. 

She turned. One foot rested on the porch, the other on the step below it. On even ground, he towered a good head over her. Now, she could look him directly in the eye. 

Everything escaped from his head the moment their gazes met. There was something off about her gaze. Her eyes were dark blue, vast enough to contain multitudes and answers to questions he didn’t even know. But instead, all he could see was a bright spark of curiosity and confusion. 

And a hope for answers that he didn’t have. 

“You’re different...” He coughed as she cocked her head to the side. “From what I expected.” 

This made her laugh. “Not Goddess-y enough for you?” 

It was his turn to tilt his head a degree at the turn of phrase. “I can’t say. I haven’t met any Goddesses in my life. You would be the first.” 

“I’m pretty sure I’m a terrible first impression. I’ll need to apologize to the Church for making everyone question their faith.” She turned and descended a step, so he was taller than her once again. “Are you going to stay here tonight?” 

Cairo glanced over at the stables. The thought of asking that of the farmer made his stomach clench in an angry knot. “No. I don’t live far from here. I will come back for you tomorrow. I’m... glad to have met you, Lady.” 

“Arika.” 

“Sorry?” 

“Just once. Try calling me Arika just once.” 

Her stare was a challenge that he wasn’t in the mood for. He tried, let her sacred name rest heavy on the tip of his tongue -- the one that the farmer cast around without a care. But in the end, he lowered his gaze. “I can’t, Lady. Arika was the name of the Goddess when she first walked on Mwyr. You are not her. You are a copy of the original, and I won’t call you by that name.” 

He left her standing on the stairs, unwilling to check to see what sort of expression she made. The surge of disappoint that chased after him was explanation enough. 

#

Mina perched on the edge of the low brick wall, running her fingers over the small talisman in her grip. She watched the crowds of people streaming in and out of the walled city. Once every so often, the familiar furs and earthen hues of a Rotia would pass by. She would straighten her posture, stare harder under they were out of sight, then slump back down. 

Her brother returned to her side with the apples he bought, holding one out to her. He inspected his from every angle before biting into it. “I still don’t understand what you’re looking for. Is it the Goddess? Why don’t we just go find her instead?” 

“I’m looking for the person the Benghri told us about.”

“You mean the one of our faith?” 

She nodded, eyes boring into the busy throng. 

“And you think you’ll find them here?” 

Mina finally tore her eyes away, taking the offered fruit and dropping it in her lap. “The Benghri told us that they were in the Church. This is the main gate.” 

“Still odd that they think it logical to gate off their place of worship,” he said around a mouthful. “What are they protecting it from?” 

“Us?” she asked as she held up the talisman. The carved bear was worn smooth from years of running her fingers against the surface. 

Mica snorted, attempting to muffle the sound against the back of his hand. “Careful, or it might burst into flames if it catches the sunlight. Who knows if the Goddess is as unforgiving to her siblings as the Church is.” 

“The sunlight...” Her eyes ticked from the metal coin in her hand up to the faint moon hovering over the high stone walls of the city. It was still early in the day, and the second of the three moons would be just above the horizon. 

Mina leapt to her feet as a cry escaped her throat. “I get it!” She brandished the talisman up at the sky in victory, ignoring the apple tumbling from her lap. 

The fruit rolled into the street and hit a man’s boots. Mina watched in surprise as he stooped to pick it up. 

He brushed it off on his vest and offered it back to her. “You dropped this.” 

She hesitated, hands hovering before her. Her mind struggled to translate his words, still reeling from her thought process.

The man dressed like any of the others coming and going from the Church, if a bit on the richer side. It was his bright green eyes and growing smile that kept her hypnotised. 

The expression wavered when she took too long to respond. “Can you understand me?” 

“She understands, but she is a bit simple,” Mica cut in with his broken version of the common tongue. He took the apple and nudged Mina with his elbow. “Say thank you, phrei.” 

She jumped at the contact, frowning down at him. “Bambvari phral,” she snapped in their own language. Stupid brother. 

She offered an awkward curtsey, keeping her gaze lowered so she couldn’t get caught in his thrall again. “Thank you, sir.” 

He laughed, surprising her with how gentle it sounded. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to waste a brand new apple. Have a good day, you two.” The man patted Mina’s head as he left, and she resisted the urge to flinch at the touch.

Mica reached up and tugged hard on her braid. “Bambvari phrei. What was that?” 

She smacked his hand away. “He is one of them.” 

“One of what?” 

“Them,” she repeated, brandishing the talisman and reaching for the one sewn onto his vest. “One of our faith.” 

Her twin regarded her skeptically. “He is not Rotia.” 

Mina smacked the side of his head this time. “Not him. The one we are looking for. The Goddess has come to walk on Mwyr. So have her siblings. Or at least, one of them.” 

He hesitated and let the information process. He jerked to his feet a beat later. “You think we are looking for one of the Tiria Onori? One of the three?” Mica jabbed an angry finger in the direction of the pale blue moon in the distance. 

She scanned the crowd in hopes of finding the green eyed man. There was something about his presence with the timing of her idea. “I can’t be sure. I mean, I can’t sense anyone else like I can the Goddess.” Mina slouched and fiddled with the apple in her lap. 

A moment passed, and then she jumped back to her feet. “Perhaps the one that the Benghri meant was the man that woke them. He is one of the Tiria Onori.” Mina put a hand to her chin like their father would do when he was in deep thought. It normally made Mica laugh because their father had a large beard to stroke and all she had was her soft, round chin. 

Only he didn’t seem to notice this time. “Do you think that the Tiria Onori would come here? To their sister’s house of worship?”

She opened her mouth, paused, and then closed it again. She didn’t have a solid answer for that. The Benghri told them to go to the Church, and so she dragged Mica along without question. There had to be a reason they were involved, and the most likely answer was their own beliefs would be needed. 

Mina didn’t know much about the legends behind the Goddess. They weren’t common talking points among the Rotia. She knew that the Goddess was sun, and her three older siblings were the moons that circled Mwyr in their own path. 

The Tiria Onori -- the three scales. Churmani of the forest, Darvanu of the sea, and Tursha of the earth. 

She rubbed her thumb once again over the medallion before slipping it into a pouch at her waist. The Rotia favored Churmani, the huntress and master of their way of life. Darvanu was more popular toward the coast with the sailors and fishermen. She could count on one hand the number of people who supported the fourth sibling. Rotia legends called him a demon, and many considered his moon a bad omen. 

A shudder ran down her spine. “Mica, which of the three do you think is here?” 

“You’re the Seer, Mina. You know more than I do.” 

She frowned at him, and he frowned back. 

A moment passed before he gave in with a sigh and rolled his eyes. “The three of them are supposed to keep each other in balance.” 

“But what if Tursha wants to upset that balance and came without the other two?” She wrung her hands together and started to pace in a tight line. 

Mica reached out and took her wrists in his grip, forcing her to stop twitching them. “He wouldn’t risk something like that when the Goddess walks Mwyr.” 

Mina forced herself to relax, but she had a hard time believing that reasoning. And, judging by his expression, her brother didn’t quite believe himself either. From what she remembered from lessons from her grandmother, Tursha had little regard for his youngest sibling after she got all the credit for creating Mwyr. 

Churmani and Darvanu were tasked with keeping an eye on him. They stayed in the sky long past the fade of night, and rising before the first hint of sunset. It was unlikely that he could have decided to make a move of his own. 

“Do you want to go home?” Mica shifted his grip to her shoulder. He waited until she could look him in the eye before giving a reassuring squeeze. “We can consult with Grandmother--” 

“No,” she said a little too quickly. She took a breath and tried again. “No. I can do this. This is a mission for us, though I don’t quite know why. We need to figure out if the Onori are here on Mwyr. And then we must find the Goddess.” 

Despite the expression that meant he would rather argue than go along with her plan, Mica released her and took a step back. “Alright. Then we will.” 

Mina managed a smile and reached for his hand. They were twins, and knew each other’s limits. She knew she could trust him to keep her steady if the path got too rough.