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“Yes. It didn’t matter to them what form they took; it was all energy. But for us, it did matter. They could not bend us so easily into what they chose, and thus they came up with a device—”
“The one what was used on me.”
She nodded. “It was employed in their experiments, to slice up souls and recombine them in new ways, and with new powers. For our people, a soul regenerates a body, so recombing souls changed the body that was produced as well. It allowed them to create amazing creatures, hybrids of many different species. As long as the root soul was fey, whatever they grafted onto it would manifest in the new body that the soul would form. You understand?”
I nodded; I thought so.
“Well, the god’s device was left behind when they were banished by Artemis. It remained at Aeslinn’s court, along with other godly instruments, until rediscovered by a human mage some years ago. He had been working to help bring back the gods, who Aeslinn assumed would fight on his side—their faithful worshipper—against all apostates, and hand him a kingdom. The mage was in it more for power, but he found the godly instruments fascinating.
He began experimenting with them, grafting bits of soul onto himself, absorbing the new powers this gave him. And he began showing them off to his master, who started coveting the same for himself, but not for the same reason. Aeslinn went from worshipping the gods to wanting to be one, but the only godly energy left to absorb—”
“Was in you,” I said, a hand to my mouth.
“And the other children they’d left behind,” she agreed. “He began to follow their pattern of cannibalism, trying to drown out the fey in him with godly energy. Ten years ago, he took the device the gods once used in their experiments and turned it on me. And not just me. He has stripped any being he could find with godly blood of their power, ripping out the parts of us that we inherited from our divine parents and welding them onto his soul instead. He is a patchwork now, a corrupt, despicable creature who believes he is a god reborn.
“And while it has corrupted his own soul, and whatever goodness may once have lain within him, it has made him powerful. So much so that his own wife barely escaped with their child. He would have ripped the two of them apart, too, but she eluded him. I give her respect for that, but she was with him . . . too long . . .”
Nimue gasped, and her voice trailed off. She was fading. It did not take an expert on fey anatomy to see that. Her hands were shaking, her eyes were becoming dim, and her skin was sallow.
She would not last much longer.
But she was determined to have her say before she did, and I was grateful for it. I had so many questions, but chief among them was the obvious. “What does Efridis want with me?”
That won me what I was coming to know as her annoyed look. “What did I just say? She wants your power, girl, the same thing Aeslinn wanted from me.”
“Yes, but why? And why did you call me god-killer? I have killed no gods.”
She cackled at that, although it obviously hurt her. “Have killed . . . no gods . . . yet.”
She slid down to the floor, where she could lean back against the rock instead of sitting on it. It seemed to buy her some respite, although for how long, I didn’t know. She looked up at me and smiled slightly.
“Made a mistake with you, yes, I did. Should have taken you on the river. Knew it then, but I’ve become cautious. Not so powerful anymore. Wanted to see . . .”
“See what?”
“What you could do. If it was really you.” She shifted position slightly. “I received my answer, didn’t I?”
Perhaps, but I was not receiving mine.
“Nimue—”
“Yes, yes, I know. Time is short. So many years, so many centuries, and it comes down to this.” She looked about. “Fitting. I was born in a cave like this. And loved exploring them when I was a girl.”
“You found the capsule in the cave,” I said, leading her gently, because her mind had started to wander.
“Find it? I put it there. One of my old toys. Used it in my explorations. They call them vimana where you come from. The gods made them for us, their children. We had bodies, you see, and could not travel as they did . . .”
“And you’ve been using this one again recently?”
She had been staring off into the distance, but the question focused her. “After Aeslinn’s attack, I remembered it. It was made for me. Has my name on it, you know, in the old tongue. Aeslinn’s people found and copied it, but it escaped them, returning to where I’d left it. I use it now to get around. What would your lot call it? My wheelchair.” She laughed.
“Then the seahorse . . .”
“Was an illusion. My people are good with them. Especially in water.”
So, what I had seen had been both an illusion and real. She had been there in her strange vehicle, but I had seen only what she wanted me to see. Finally, I understood something.
It made me bold.
