The Goddess of Blood and Bone

by Nattie Kate Mason

  Agnes and many others did, however, believe the stories of the wendigast, of Hyacinth’s Rise. Many reported witnessing the witch tree-spirits for themselves. Villages had offered up their family members in sacrifice to them. It still baffled her that the people had not believed in other stories too.

  Hand-in-hand, the Goddess of Darkness had transported them through a portal of light and mist, directly into the receiving room of the Gods’ mighty rulers; Archè and Aria. Bowing before the benevolent Rulers of the Gods, Agnes failed to control the trembling of her body.

  Nushka had returned Agnes to her spirit form before Lilith had transported them to the Land of the Gods. Nushka was to wait behind until invited by the Rulers themselves. Now, it was showtime.

  “The Rulers of the Gods need to be the ones to reward you by returning you to your corporal form. They will want you to be able to enjoy the festivities. Let them lap up the opportunity to demonstrate their power. It will boost their egos, if nothing else,” Lilith had insisted. “They are not aware that the ability has been passed on through the bloodline. Let us keep it that way. For all we know, I am likely capable of turning you to corporal form too since Nushka and I share so many of the same powers.”

  The handmaiden remained bowed, the portrait of redemption, clad in her modest priestess gown, sunk to her knees before the dais. She waited to see how the first part of their plan would play out. If they did not overcome this first obstacle, if Agnes and Lilith could not convince the Gods of her supposedly redeemed soul, then all their preparation would be for nothing.

  The castle of the Gods was unlike anything Agnes had ever seen. More breathtaking than her wildest dreams. The multi-level castle reminded Agnes of a colosseum in a story book, floating on a bed of clouds. The building seemed completely immune to the elements, likely from whatever gifts the Gods possessed. Fountains bubbled around the room, their waters falling through the clouds and voids in the floors to the levels below like a gentle, trickling rain.

  A phoenix with red and gold shining feathers and a magnificently long tail flew by the throne room’s balcony, leaving a fiery trail behind it. Its entrancing yellow eyes shone bright as it briefly made eye contact with the handmaiden before continuing its path. Agnes could not believe her eyes; the phoenix was yet another story brought to life. She didn’t know why she was so surprised. It seemed all the stories, myths and legends were true.

  Agnes recalled a bedtime story that her mother Amealiana had read to her as a child. The tale foretold that to glimpse a phoenix brought the witness luck and good fortune. Agnes prayed that story held true. It was then that Agnes recalled the other part of the tale; if a phoenix was close, the witness was also incapable of dishonesty.

  Agnes’s breathing quickened, her body started to tremble. She silently prayed that the phoenix would fly away of swift wings.

  Lilith placed a reassuring hand on Agnes’s back.

  “Just breathe,” Lilith gently reassured her. “It’s all going to be fine.”

  Upon the dais sat the imposing Deities. Aria was the sun to Archè’s night. Aria radiated light, her porcelain skin glowing from within, the image enhanced by her flowing silk gown. The Deity was slender and graceful, much in the way Lilith was. Liquid light streamed from Aria’s long, honey-blonde hair. The neckline of her golden, shimmering gown skimmed her collarbones, the gown itself complimenting her subtle curves, creating a beautiful silhouette.

  Archè was Aria’s opposite. His figure dwarfed that of his beloved; he was all muscle and trailing shadows. Agnes mused that it was his shadow magic that Nushka and Lilith had inherited, their other sister likely taking after their mother in her giftings.

  Archè’s eyes were dark and menacing, his chiseled features covered in thick, dark facial hair that matched the long mane tied into a bun with a leather strap. The formfitting midnight-colored tunic did little to conceal the muscles beneath. His dark leather trousers also left extraordinarily little to the imagination. Agnes, for once, was grateful she remained in her spirit form, preventing the soft blush that would have flooded her cheeks. His gruff voice drew her from her thoughts.

  “Welcome, Lilith,” Archè acknowledged, brow furrowed. “Why have you left your realm and requested this meeting at such haste?”

  Lilith rose from her bow and straightened her back. Elegant and poised, she was the picture of an honorable daughter, though Agnes was sure she was anything but.

  “Thank you for meeting us at such short notice. I would not have left the Hall of Shadows if it were not important,” Lilith began. The Goddess gestured with a flourish of her hand towards Agnes. “Over five years ago I sentenced the soul beside me to The Pitts of Moor for crimes against her family and Kingdom. It is now my privilege to introduce you to Agnes Brandistone. She was indeed a disgraced soul from Alearia, a Princess in fact. She now stands before you, seeking forgiveness for her past crimes, having seen the error of her ways. Agnes has been transformed by none other than Nushka herself,” she said serenely. “She is now worthy of re-joining her loved ones in the Afterworld.”

  Where Nushka was chaos, Lilith was reserved, able to navigate around politics to achieve her means. Agnes watched on as the Goddess of Darkness measured every word she spoke.

  Aria’s turquoise eyes lit with fascination.

  “Is that so, Lilith?” The Queen of the Gods said curiously, her voice light and airy, like a bird’s song.

  Lilith bowed her head in acknowledgement and respect for her Queen and mother.

  “I was hesitant at first to believe it, My Queen,” Lilith confessed. “If it were not for my unique gift of discernment, I would not have seen the truth within her declarations. Her soul has truly been rehabilitated.”

  Each lie fell off her tongue with such conviction that even Agnes would have believed her if she didn’t know better. Archè, however, looked less than impressed by his daughter’s announcement, though he seemed placated to some degree.

  “I suppose Nushka redeeming a single soul was bound to happen eventually, if this is true. Miracles do happen,” Archè remarked ironically to his wife.

  Aria scorned her husband, giving him a stern glance. She was clearly much more eager to see the good in people than the King. Agnes wasn’t surprised; her own parents had been the same.

  “I am curious, however,” the King of the Gods continued, “to hear how this miracle came to pass. Enlighten me…”

  The Goddess of Darkness motioned for Agnes to stand and address the Gods, giving her a warning look the Rulers couldn’t see from their positions.

  Agnes curtsied before straightening to address the Rulers. Thankfully, the phoenix was no longer anywhere in sight. She released a small sigh of relief. Agnes shoulders hunched forward; her trembling was not feigned. Agnes did not make direct eye contact with the Gods, for to do so would be imprudent.

  “Your Majesties,” Agnes began, her voice quivering. “I am unworthy of your presence. You honor me by allowing me to stand before you.”

  The sudden furrowing of Archè’s brow made it clear that Agnes was overcompensating, so she reined herself in, striving to find the balance between remorseful and pitiful.

  “Carry on,” Aria gently urged her after noticing Agnes’s prolonged pause.

  The Queen’s sincere smile was only one of a handful Agnes had witnessed since passing into the Afterlife. Agnes offered the Queen a small, thankful smile in return. A mix of truth and lie, she realized, would be needed here.

  “During my mortal life,” Agnes began softly, “I did things I am not proud of. I allowed myself to be lured by the dark, powerful side of my mind conqueror gifting. I was foolish enough to think of myself as a God, rather than a mortal blessed by the Gods. I took your gift and turned it into a weapon. I betrayed my family and my Kingdom, and for that I will never forgive myself.”

  Agnes pretended to take a deep, centering breath.

  “For too long,” she continued, sounding as earnest as she could, “we humans have forgotten o
ur place. We have forgotten to show thanks for the blessings and giftings bestowed upon us. It is thanks to the Goddess of Blood and Bone that I was able to see the error of my wicked ways and begin to follow the path towards seeking redemption for my former life.”

  The thought of thanking Nushka for anything repulsed Agnes to her very core. But alas, if she did not convince the Rulers of Nushka’s role in her supposed redemption, they would not allow her safe passage from Moor and her plan would be ruined.

  “I know that I have wronged those who loved me,” Agnes pushed on, “and I am deeply sorry for that. I want to make amends with my family. I want to rejoin them in the Afterworld, so that I can spend eternity earning their forgiveness.”

  Guilt twisted Agnes’s stomach.

  ‘Was that the truth?’ Agnes vacillated between feelings of confusion and regret. ‘Revenge doesn’t hold the same allure it used to and I don’t want to be alone for all eternity… Regardless, my family never cared for me anyway and they would never forgive me for what I have done.’

  Archè raised a brow, wholly unconvinced, though from Aria’s warm expression, she had lapped up every word like a vintage wine. Agnes didn’t think the words could have sounded any more heart-felt, even if she imagined them coming from the lips of her pathetically kind-hearted sister Anastasia.

  “And how exactly did the Goddess of Blood and Bone help bring about this astonishing change of heart?” Archè leered as he lounged in his throne, looking down on Agnes like an ant beneath his boot.

  Agnes dropped her eyes to the ground and bit her lip, willing herself to appear virtuous.

  “The Goddess of Blood and Bone employed me into her services and taught me the value of hard work,” Agnes responded creatively, letting them see a glimmer of her true self. Mixing lie with truth.

  “She punished me for my past crimes as was just,” Agnes continued softly, “and she reminded me of my ill worth. But after I was stripped down to my very core, she slowly built me back up again. The Goddess reminded me that, despite wasting my mortal life on spiteful revenge, my former choices did not have to impact my eternity.

  “It was through her actions that I realized I could strive to be worthy of my family and of the Afterworld, if only I sought forgiveness and cut away vengeful thoughts that had consumed my past life. She taught me how to forgive myself, so that I could move on and become a better version of myself. The strings holding me back in the past have been severed, and standing before you is a soul who knows she is unworthy, but seeks to be more,” Agnes confessed, the lies and truth seamlessly intertwined.

  Agnes straightened her back. “If I am granted safe passage to the Land of Milk and Honey, I will first seek forgiveness from my family. If they choose to accept me, and it will be their choice, then together we will spend eternity making up for all the time we lost whilst I was consumed by hate and rage,” Agnes promised sincerely, surprising even herself.

  Aria seemed impressed, and even Archè seemed to weigh her words with more value. Lilith, who remained by Agnes’s side, relaxed her shoulders a little too, as if she had also felt the shift in the room. Perhaps Lilith had even noticed a change in the King’s thoughts, thanks to her gifting.

  Archè made eye contact with his wife, the two seeming to debate their decision telepathically between themselves. Agnes waited anxiously for them to deliver their decision, her fate hanging precariously in the balance.

  After several long minutes that felt like a lifetime to Agnes, The King of the Gods turned to Lilith and made his request. “Summon Nushka to our domain. It seems we have cause for celebration.” Sitting beside him, the Queen of the Gods beamed in delight.

  Agnes brought a hand to her gaping mouth. The handmaiden tried to not get her hopes up. She would believe their sincerity when Nushka was in the Land of the Gods with them. Even then, she knew she would be looking over her shoulder every second, waiting for the Rulers to change their minds and send her back to Moor.

  “Welcome to your new life, Agnes,” Aria trilled warmly. “The Afterworld awaits you, but first we must celebrate with your mentor, Nushka. You will be both be our guests of honor at tonight’s ball.”

  With a flourish of her hand and a flash of blinding light, Agnes transformed from her spirit form into corporal form. A gown of glimmering silver fabric that felt as light and soft as a cloud now draped elegantly across her frame. Agnes couldn’t help the surprise that filled her eyes as she offered the Queen of the Gods a quizzical look.

  “Consider the physical form and the gown a gift,” Aria offered sincerely. “A rare reward for all you have overcome to stand before us today. Use these gifts for whatever pleasure you wish to engage in during your stay, and when the time comes for Chiara to welcome you into the Afterworld, you will be returned to your spirit form, forever free of pain, ageless and beautiful.” The Goddess smiled.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Agnes bowed low, holding back the grin that threatened to spread across her lips.

  ‘Just like that, the lamb has welcomed the lion into her lair.’

  Aria and Archè descended their thrones and exited, leaving only the Goddess of Darkness and Agnes behind. A triumphant smile spread across Agnes’s face, a feeling of accomplishment welling within, but her mission was not over. She had only passed her first task. The next stage in their plan bordered on impossible.

  The Goddess of Darkness appraised Agnes with smug satisfaction. “Well played, Agnes. Perhaps one day you might have legitimately earned your place in the Afterworld after all… I didn’t think such a think were possible. Regardless, our plan remains the same. I will become a Ruler of the Gods. Do not fail in your next task. If you do, the fate awaiting you is something I would not wish upon my worst enemy.”

  In a barely perceptible movement, Lilith removed a vial filled with transparent liquid from her pocket and tucked it discretely into the hidden side pocket of Agnes’s gown.

  “Do not disappoint us,” Lilith warned before disappearing through a portal of light and mist, leaving Agnes utterly alone in a strange new realm.

  *

  17

  Agnes

  The suite was more opulent than anywhere Agnes had ever stayed, including her Royal suite in Alearia. The room was airy, with large, open windows. With the Gods commanding the weather, there would never be a need to close them.

  Shortly after the Goddess of Darkness had left her alone in the receiving room, a servant had escorted her to a guest suite to await the evening’s festivities. Agnes thought it absurd that a minor Deity fulfilled the role of a servant, much less waiting on a soul from The Pitts.

  Tonight, the Rulers of the Gods would be hosting a ball in her honor. An elaborate gathering to honor a wretched soul from Moor and a narcissistic Goddess; the Deities had lost their minds. The Queen of the Gods would likely throw a celebration in honor of a newborn pegasus; the idea of it was completely irrational. Of course, Nushka and Agnes had predicted this would happen. The upcoming ball was an essential part of the next phase of their plan. Without the cause for revelry, their plan would be doomed. But the more Agnes thought about the entire situation, the more illogical it seemed.

  The running bath in the adjoining bathing chamber bubbled away. The scent of lavender oil immersed in water floated towards her on a gentle breeze. The bath was another wasteful display of the Gods’ good fortune. Agnes had no need to bathe, nor did she want their pity offering. After the wendigast had finished punishing her for her insolence, they had healed and polished her skin in the hot springs until she was gleaming. It would likely be a while until Agnes would feel comfortable soaking in warm water again. She couldn’t believe that had only been last night. After several slow and agonizing days in the bone castle’s dungeon, the past day had flown by in a blur.

  Agnes shook her head in disbelief. ‘Why would Lilith suggest I could ever fully redeem myself? The idea is absurd. I still want to claim my seat or power. My goals have not changed. I will do whatever it takes to attain it
. That doesn’t seem like a very virtuous thing to me… It might not bring me happiness. There is no guarantee. But at least I will finally be a Queen of a realm. I will finally have earned the power that I have always been denied in both this life and in Alearia.’ She ran a hand through her blond tresses, closing her eyes for a moment.

  “I need to focus,” she coached herself.

  Agnes strolled to the open balcony of her suite, eager to get a better sense of her surroundings, recalling the castle’s blueprints she had gleaned from the Orb. The truth-inspiring phoenix with its fiery tail feathers had returned to circle around the uppermost parapets of the castle.

  Below her, the floating building descended through the clouds, past her level of sight. Layers upon layers of wispy clouds wound throughout the open buildings, the occasional waterfall descending from one balcony to the next from extravagant water features.

  Agnes had no idea how the Land of the Gods existed. Its very creation defied gravity and all logic. How the structures remained perpetually suspended in the sky was a mystery that Agnes had been unable to discover in her research. Without visual evidence of land below, Agnes questioned if the city in the sky acted like its own planet, defying all rules that the mortal realms were bound to. She supposed it wasn’t a huge stretch of the imagination, given the Gods were literally the creators of all existence. Creating a whole realm that existed beyond anything else seemed like just the kind of extravagant thing the Gods would do.

  ‘Perhaps this realm was the birthplace of all others,’ Agnes mused. ‘If only I had more time to scroll through the Orb, to learn everything I could about the Gods and their history. There wouldn’t be enough time to glean all the information stored within the relic.’

  Drawing herself away from the awe-inspiring view and her musings, Agnes forced herself to focus on the mission. She had only hours to contaminate the Gods’ drinking supply before the ball began. From the castle maps she had studied within the Orb, she knew she was currently several levels above the main entertaining areas of the castle. The kitchens were a level below those again. The running bath and out-of-reach waterfalls were the only signs of water sources from her suite. Agnes was left with only two choices. Her first option was to sneak down to the kitchens, where she might find the cellars and taint the wine. Her second option was to try and locate the castle’s water supply and taint it with the magical tonic. The first option, she gambled, was more likely to succeed.