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“With their husband,” I added as I’d been taught.
“With whomever they like,” the beautiful woman exclaimed.
“Only whores have sex with everyone.” I only had a basic idea of sex from what I’d heard my brothers discuss when they didn’t know I eavesdropped. But I knew enough that sex was only supposed to be with your husband.
“Fine. I’m a whore, and you know what? I’m proud of it. It shows I don’t care what people think of me. I do what makes me happy.” She angled her chin.
Oddly, her words struck a chord in me. “Why would a goddess visit me?” I had an aunt who insisted a certain god had visited her and he was the reason her baby came out not looking at all like either parent. The hooves kind of gave it away.
“I want you to serve me.”
“Serve you?” I glanced around. Desert to the left of me, desert to the right. I eyed her. “I have nothing to give.”
“But yourself. Be my champion.”
“Your champion?” I wrinkled my nose. “But I don’t know how to fight.”
“You’ll learn. I’ll make sure of it.”
“If you want me to learn, you’ll have to help me find my way to a town,” I countered. Speaking to the imaginary goddess seemed to have temporarily restored some of my senses. Or did I fool myself?
“I’ll do better than just guide you. I’m going to give you all the tools you need to save yourself so that one day you can save us all from his wrath.”
“Whose wrath?” I asked.
“You’ll find out in due time.” She kissed my forehead, and it burned. Not in a painful way that made me cry. Rather my body jolted in exultation. Thrashed and—
I woke alongside a small, muddy oasis. My clothes were damp and my skin moist. My tongue didn’t rasp inside my mouth. Despite not knowing my situation, I rolled for the water, and I didn’t care if it had grit or who knew what else in it. It was life.
I would have greedily drunk until my belly burst, but I knew better. I’d be sick with too much. And besides, I already felt better.
I shoved to my hands and knees in the muck, and a voice cried out, “The girl is awake.”
A woman with drawn features neared. She crouched. “Hello, child. I’m Hiixa.”
“Asharee.” A raspy whisper of a reply. I had a fleeing memory of another woman.
The goddess…
“Where is your family?” Hiixa questioned me.
I ducked my head. “Dead. Monsters got them.” Grief gripped me with sharp claws.
“You’re lucky to be alive. Do you have somewhere to go?”
I thought of my mean aunt and shook my head.
“Well, we don’t have much, but you’re welcome to travel with us. You wouldn’t be our only orphan. I lost my son.”
“I’m so sorry,” I hastened to reply. I knew the loss could debilitate. My own mother didn’t move from her bed for seven days.
The woman cleared her throat, her eyes brimming. “Here’s a piece of taaman to fill your belly.” A flat and dry bread my mother used to make. “We don’t have any spare clothes or blankets, I’m afraid. We were lucky to escape with our lives.”
Had I known this woman, I might have asked her more. Instead, I nodded and muttered, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. It might have been better to leave you.” I didn’t understand then that she believed death would be better than life.
When she left me, I chose to look around and noticed a camp around the watering hole. If you could call a few pitched blankets a camp. People milled around, about twelve, many of them sitting and staring morosely. Sorrow hung palpably in the air.
