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“Let me touch her,” the gray eyed one insists.
The god with the blue eyes releases my hand and I collapse to the floor. Faith mentioned once that when she first touched hands with Aron, it felt like being struck by lightning. This isn’t quite the same, but it feels intense and unsettling, like a heavy cloak is cast over me, draining my energy. It takes me a moment to realize I’m on my hands and knees in front of the three of them, weak and heaving.
When I look up, the gray-eyed one thrusts his hand out to me, almost as if in a challenge.
Somehow I know I have to touch each of them for this bond to work. I thought they were all the same, but the longer I’m around them, the less I think that is the case. So I somehow get to my feet again and stand straight, my hair sliding over my shoulders, unbound. I swallow hard and meet the silver gaze of the impatient, jealous one, and put my hand in his.
This time, his hand feels both hot and cold, like frost on fire. I shiver, waiting for the drain of energy, but it doesn’t come. Instead, that strangesomethingripples all through me and finally stills.
“Hmm,” is all he says to his brothers, his gaze thoughtful as he watches me.
I slide my hand out of his and turn to the third brother, the one with the hollow, too-dark eyes. Of the three, he’s the most remote, and I extend my hand out to him. His nostrils flare and he gazes down at my palm with something like distaste. The god takes a deep breath, then grips my hand.
His touch is like ice.
To my surprise, the god moans unpleasantly. He immediately shakes my hand off, clenching and unclenching his fingers as if my touch has pained him. He withdraws a step or two, behind his brothers, and won’t look at me anymore.
That was…unexpected.
“You are ours now,” the gray-eyed one tells me, and his expression is one of triumph. “You will serve as our human anchor.”
I nod, rattled. But I know my duties. “I am happy to serve, my lord.”
“How long will you need?” Gray-eyes asks immediately.
I know exactly what he’s referring to. He wants me to “serve” him sexually. To give myself to him. I knew this was part of the deal, but the fact that he’s asking instead of demanding that I get on my knees tells me that I have a little opportunity here. Hunger rumbles in my gut. “I would like a bath and a meal first,” I say. “Humans are fragile and I would go to you with my full strength.”
He grunts. “I will return later, then.” In a swirl of robes, he turns on his heel and melds into the spiderwebs covering the walls.
I blink in surprise, not entirely sure I didn’t imagine that, and when I look over, the other two gods are gone as well.
I’m alone in this windowless, horrid room. Somewhere close by, I hear the sound of water turn on, likely a tub being filled. A knot forms in my throat, and I think of Solat, and Faith and Aron’s easy relationship. I don’t know what I expected, but this isn’t it. I feel more like an object of curiosity than a person with feelings, and I wonder if I’ve made a mistake.
I think of Solat, and tears clog my throat. It’s not that I’m in love with him. He was a good friend to me, and I wish I could tell him to be careful, that he might die. I wish that I had a window to the outside. I wish…
I swallow back my tears, because there’s no point in crying. I’m used to slavery and servitude. This is no different than any other master, except now I serve the gods. There is honor in that, and I need to embrace it. So I push away my emotions, calm myself, and slip off my dress to go bathe.
Three
It seems even in a bath,I don’t have the opportunity to be alone.
I lounge in the large, sunken marble tub (strange that a god would need one, but I’ll take it) and stare off into the distance. I’m trying to mentally grasp everything that’s happened. I’m an anchor now, like Faith. Unlike Faith, I feel completely and utterly out of control, and I’m wondering if I’ve made a mistake. Aron at least acts somewhat human. These three gods are terrifying in their strangeness. I can’t help but think of how I touched the one’s hand and he made a sound of pain, and backed away as if touching me was revolting.
Does that mean I am only serving two out of the three gods? I don’t know and I feel like there’s no way to get answers. I feel lost. It’s usually fairly obvious what a new master wants from me. This feels a bit out of my depth, though.
So I sit in the tub until the water grows tepid and my fingers shrivel, my hair piled up atop my head so it doesn’t get wet. I sit and I deal with my grief, grief that I won’t ever see the outside world again, grief that I’ve left everything I know in exchange for safety and the honor of serving gods. I push the grief back down, because it serves no purpose, and focus on calming myself instead. As I do, I get the vague sensation that I’m being watched. I eye the walls around me, but I don’t see any of the strange spiders creeping amongst the webs. I can’t get over the feeling that someone’s watching me, though. When I don’t see anyone in the shadowy bathing room, though, I decide to take a chance. They’re Fate, after all. Do they need to be present to “watch” me?
What is it they see when they look at me, I wonder? I know I am beautiful, with dark skin and dark eyes, full breasts and a rounded, enticing arse. My cheekbones are high, my chin pointed, and I have had poets exclaim over my graceful neck and shoulders. My hair is long and thick and I take great care to keep it shiny and curling, even though it takes a lot of time to tend to my mane. My eyebrows are perfectly shaped and my skin is supple and blemish-free.
Appearances are important for one in my position, and I’ve always done my best to ensure I am as appealing as possible. But do these gods even like dark skin and thick hair?
Do they notice such things at all?
Or am I just as strangely unappealing to them as their ghastly paleness is to me?
“You can show yourself,” I call out, my curiosity getting the better of me.”I’m not offended if you want to come and look.” In a strange way, I’d be relieved. Being watched in my bath is familiar territory.
The webs part, and one of the Spidae materializes. It’s like he appeared out of thin air, the webs molding to create the man who steps forward. I immediately search his gaze—blue eyes. In a way, I’m relieved. He seems the most rational of the triad, though I think the gray-eyed one takes the lead over the others.
