Amena’s Rise to Stardom: Divine Warriors #0

by Kristen S. Walker

  I lift my head, but all I see is the darkened hotel room. I’m back in bed and the goddess is gone. I can just make out Uqra’s shape resting on the bed frame at my feet.

  “What just happened?” I whisper to the bird.

  Uqra cracks open one eye, glinting in the light from the window. “It’s easier for the goddess to speak to you in your dreams. You should listen to what she told you.”

  A dream? I feel my head, but there’re no scratches on my scalp where she touched me. I guess it could have been a dream. “She told me to keep praying to her, but she also said not to question her plans.” I lean forward to look at the quetzal. “I have to do something tonight? Do you know what that is?”

  Uqra glides over to the nightstand and nudges the bronze star toward me. “Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it. The first step is to change your clothes into something for sneaking out of here. I’m sure, with your experience, you’ll have no problem.”

  I take the star and rub the metal with my thumb, but I don’t summon any power yet. Now things are coming together, but I don’t like the direction. “My experience in stealing things?” I ask.

  “Didn’t Qachmy just tell you not to question her plans?” Uqra snaps. “But relax, I won’t ask you to break any laws tonight. We’ll just be observing.”

  So I’m a spy. I don’t what I could learn that a goddess couldn’t find out with her own powers, but I keep my questions to myself. Maybe this is a test. I stand up and close my eyes to concentrate like Uqra taught me. If I can pick any outfit I want, I won’t choose my usual black gear. I can play around with some style.

  I summon the magic, then open my eyes and turn toward the window’s light to admire my handiwork. Instead of black, I’ve chosen dark green for my blouse as a tribute to Qachmy’s rainforest, with a few cute ruffles, and a dark brown leather corset. My close-fitting trousers are dark green and black stripes. Leather fingerless gloves will protect my hands for climbing while still giving me dexterity, and leather boots protect my feet. I check the belt at my waist and find pouches with all of my usual tools. Then I tuck my hair up under the bowler hat on my head.

  Uqra looks me over and nods her approval. “Good. You’ll need one more thing. Your face is more recognizable now you’re performing, so you’ll need some way to disguise yourself. I recommend goggles.”

  “Goggles? Like, the kind that engineers wear?” That doesn’t sound like much of a disguise, but I shrug and a pair of goggles appears in my hand. “All right, what’s next?”

  Uqra flies over to the window which swings open at her approach. Of course she has magic of her own. Now I know how she’s been getting in to follow me everywhere. She perches on the windowsill and turns back. “We go out.”

  I lean out the window and take in my options. I’m up on the fourth floor, and there’s a large gap between the hotel and the next building, so I couldn’t reach any rooftops. There didn’t seem to be any drainpipes or other features within reach. I look over at Uqra and raise one eyebrow. “You know that I can’t fly, right?”

  Uqra flutters her wings. “No, of course not. But you can make that jump.” She nods to the building across from us. “I recommend staying above street level to avoid being spotted. Besides, I think our target is just heading that way now.”

  “Jump? That’s crazy.” I’ve seen magic do some pretty incredible things, but I can’t imagine surviving that jump.

  I see something moving in the shadows on the next building. A figure, wearing dark clothes, runs to the edge of the roof and jumps an impossible distance—over twenty feet up to the next building. They land on their feet and keep going.

  Uqra hops onto my shoulder and points at the figure. “That’s our target. Hurry!”

  Well, I guess if Uqra’s wrong and magic fails me, the fall is far enough that my death will be quick, at least. I climb up into the window, say one last prayer to Qachmy, and jump.

  Wind rushes past my ears as I sail through the air and land in a crouch on the roof. By the gods, I did it! I look down at myself, hardly believing what just happened. Could I still be in that dream?

  “They’re getting away,” Uqra warns in a low voice.

  I lift my head to look. The goggles limit my range of vision, and I can’t see the shadowy figure anymore. “They must have magic, too,” I whisper back. “Is that from another god?”

  “Something we can worry about later when we have the free time,” Uqra snaps. “For now, just try to keep up with them without them seeing you.”

  I run for the next building and jump again. It’s strange the way it feels, like I’m exerting the same amount of strength I always have, but I float so much farther like I’m a leaf on the breeze. Up higher again, I spot the target now three buildings ahead of me. I scramble to keep up, landing behind a chimney and peeking around the corner. I know how to tail someone, although I’ve never dealt with magic before. Hope they don’t have some special means to detect me.

  Keeping my distance, I trail the target across town to an industrial area. I’m far enough away I can’t make out many features on the other person—they’re wearing dark clothes and a hat like me, with a mask covering their face. They look small, too. Another girl, or a child? No surprise, since the rebellion uses on kids like me all the time.

  But I’ve never heard of any rebels using magic before, or other common thieves. Whoever I’m following, it can’t be a coincidence I have the same powers as them. The fact that Qachmy sent me to this town, and Uqra knew the exact moment to follow this target, makes me very suspicious. I’ll have a serious chat with Uqra later.

  The target stops sometimes and look around, but they’re checking down on the ground, pausing when the night patrol goes by on the streets below. They don’t seem to expect anyone following them up here on the roofs, lucky for me—well, I wouldn’t have expected someone else up here, either. I keep a close eye on the other roofs nearby, just in case.

  Maybe there are tons of magic users out there in secret. I could have stumbled onto some secret underground society of people who have, like, special god powers or something. If that’s the case, I better get a handle on these new powers fast. So far, I’ve just been following along with everything that Uqra tells me to do, but maybe I can figure out some things for myself.

  The mysterious figure stops at last on the roof of a factory. I hang back on top of the taller factory next door and push up my goggles to watch.

  Mystery figure checks around one last time, then drops to the ground. I lean over the edge of the roof. They touch the doorknob and a purple light flashes, then the door swings open. That’s one way to break a lock. They slip inside and close the door behind them.

  “What now?” I whisper to Uqra. “Do we go in after them?”

  Uqra shakes her head. “Our mission is only observation tonight. Wait and see if they come back.”

  I sit back on my haunches for a more comfortable position.

  There’s no clock nearby that I can see the time, so I follow the path of the moon across the sky. An hour passes, and I’m fighting exhaustion just to stay alert. Everyone better let me sleep after this.

  Just when I’m thinking the mystery figure slipped out another exit I can’t see, the door flashes with that same purple light and opens again. I lean forward for a closer look. The target comes back out, but they’re hunched over now, carrying a heavy box. They scan the area and slink around the corner.

  I turn my head to Uqra. “Do we go after them?”

  “No, let them go for tonight.” Uqra sweeps a wing out to point at the factory. “Let’s just go see what’s in that factory. I want to know what they took.”

  I drop to the ground and touch the door to find it’s locked again, although it tingles a little with a remnant of magic. I take a little more time with the lock picks, but I don’t want to use anything that could draw attention, especially if it can leave a trace behind.

  Inside, the factory is dark. I reach for a match from my pouch. />
  “Don’t light that,” Uqra warns. “I can smell something. Hold on while I make a light.”

  I open my mouth to protest, but Uqra is cautious, creating only a small ball of light right in front of me. I cup it with my hand before it can shine out any of the windows.

  Then I realize what she smelled. A barrel marked “Gunpowder” sits in front of me. It’s latched shut, but when I brush my fingers against the latch, I feel that tingle of magic again. I glance around the rest of the room—bullet cases waiting to be filled.

  I back away to the door. “Whoever broke in here, they’re dangerous,” I whisper. “Are you sure you don’t want me to track them down?”

  “No, we’ll wait for now.”

  Uqra tells me to go back to bed and refuses to answer any more of my questions. I’m frustrated, but I’m also tired, so I give in.

  The week speeds by with a hectic schedule. Bymonten keeps me going from morning until night with tons of training. Dance lessons, singing practice, physical exercise to build up stamina and muscle tone, lessons in smiling and engaging a crowd—it just keeps going. I’m afraid I’ll be too tired to compete after six days of this. He even controls what I eat, claiming that his patented diet will give me lots of energy. And making me drink many cups of hot tea with honey to soothe my vocal cords.

  I thought singing was just about hitting the right notes and being loud enough for people to hear you, but the voice trainer for Star Search is quick to change my mind. Most of the vocal exercises sound ridiculous, but I can hear the difference in how I sing and the breathing practice is helping my lung support.

  All of this training takes place with the whole group of twenty-five singers. I’m nervous about talking to most of them, since they’re older and more experienced. What if someone sees through me and realizes I must be cheating? I don’t know if anyone can tell when I’m using magic, but it’s gotta look suspicious if I’m not up to a professional level unless I’m in the competition. Maybe I should use small amounts of magic all the time so I look more consistent, but that feels wasteful. And part of me still hopes I can make it on my own abilities.

  At night, Uqra has me out on the rooftops, practicing magic. We see no more shadowy figures, but she tells me to be on alert just in case.

  Then one day during a lunch break, Rinari comes over to my table. “Hey, mind if I join you?”

  I look up in surprise. “Um, yes! I mean, of course not. You can sit anywhere you want.”

  She sets down her plate of food and smiles at me. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be alone, I mean, with your pet bird there.” She gestures to Uqra sitting on the back of the chair across from me.

  “Oh, Uqra’s not a pet,” I say, but then I realize that I can’t explain the truth. I rush on, “That is, I don’t want to be alone. I just don’t know anyone else.”

  Rinari laughs. “Nobody knew each other before this competition. That’s part of the fun, making new friends.”

  I look down at my plate. “I guess so.”

  She leans closer and nudges my shoulder with hers. “It’s okay, I don’t bite! Unless you want me to.” She winks at me and chomps her teeth together.

  I blush. I’ve seen her flirt with everyone, but I think it’s part of her stage persona. She has no reason to pay special attention to me. I clear my throat. “So, um, do you know what you will sing for the next round?”

  Rinari tilts her head to one side and places her finger on her chin. Every move she makes is graceful and calculated, like a dance. “I’ve got a few songs I’m trying to choose between. One’s another fast song, but I think I might want something that showcases my vocal range a little better.” She leans into me again and I can smell her floral perfume. “What about a romantic ballad? Would the goddess of love approve?”

  “I think so?” My breath catches in my throat. I know this means nothing, but it’s hard not to be drawn in by her friendliness. This could be a chance to talk about Qachmy. I glance around and lower my voice. “That’s kind of my secret weapon. I prayed to Qachmy so I could be on Star Search, and she answered me. I wouldn’t be here without her.”

  For a moment, Rinari’s eyes narrow at me, and I’m afraid that she’ll think I’m weird. Then she laughs and grabs my arm. “Oh, really? That’s a new one. Can Qachmy even sing? I thought she would roar like a jaguar.” She jumps to her feet and pulls me along after her. “Tell you what, there’s a shrine to Tamarau nearby. We can pray to her for inspiration and pick up a couple of charms while we’re there.”

  I look back at our plates of food. “But lunch—and, and we have more lessons this afternoon—”

  Rinari’s laugh rings out again like a bell, and her hand is warm in mine. I can’t bring myself to pull away. “C’mon, we can play hooky for a little while. I’ll treat you to a snack along the way.”

  Uqra’s head raises in alarm, staring at me, but she won’t speak in front of all these people.

  I shrug at the bird. “I guess a few hours can’t hurt?”

  “That’s the spirit!” Rinari tugs me toward the door. “I know a secret way out so our bossy handlers won’t see us leave.”

  Rinari keeps quiet as we slip out a back door of the theater, then starts talking again. “I admit, I’m a little curious about you,” she says, still holding my hand. “You’re from some little town out in the boonies, right?”

  “Pisan,” I say with a nod. “It’s kind of remote, I guess, since we’re near the edge of the jungle.”

  She shivers dramatically. “Wow, like, right by the jungle? Aren’t you afraid that some kind of wild animal will attack you?” She grins at me. “No wonder you prayed to Qachmy. But trust me, Tamarau will help you out a lot more. She’s the goddess of the arts.”

  I shake my head. “I wasn’t afraid. It’s not like the town is in the jungle.” I’m careful to maintain my story I’m from Pisan. My village is in the fringes of the jungle itself to hide us, but wild animals still avoid our homes. Only hunters go deeper into the jungle for food. “I’m sure Tamarau is helpful, but won’t every singer in the competition be praying to her? She can’t give the same help to all of us, or it won’t make a difference.”

  Rinari laughs again. “She’s a goddess. Who’s to say there’re limits to what she can do? I’d be more worried about being the one singer who doesn’t pray to her, and then she’d be mad at me for being snubbed.” She leads me around the side of the theater to the main square and gestures around. “I promised you a better lunch, so, what looks good?”

  The square between the temple and the theater isn’t super crowded, but there’re still a lot of people. There’re several carts and stands scattered throughout the space to sell food and most have long lines. This must be a popular place for lunch. The scent of roasted maize, grilled chicken, and slow-cooked peppers fills the air. I’m overwhelmed by the number of choices.

  “I… I don’t know,” I say, gaping at it all. “What looks good to you?”

  She gives me a wicked grin and points to a stand in the middle where smoke is rising from a hot cooking fire. “Well, if you ask me, we should go for pure indulgence.” She gestures back at the theater. “Those self-important trainers keep telling us what to eat, but two healthy young girls like us aren’t going to ruin our figures with one greasy meal.”

  Greasy is right. The stand specializes in deep-fried foods, from maize fritters to whole guinea pigs. Everything looks crispy and delicious. Rinari goes straight for the dessert—doughnuts made from sweet potatoes and squash, with cane syrup drizzled on top. She grabs several in a little paper tray and leads me off to the side.

  She picks up a doughnut and blows on it, keeping her eyes on me. “Careful, it’s still hot.” She holds it up to my lips.

  I try not to stare back at her while I take a bite. The outside is golden brown and crunchy, but the inside is light and not too sweet. The sticky syrup clings to my lips and I turn away, embarrassed, to wipe it off with the napkin.

  Rinari laug
hs and eats the other half, licking the syrup off her fingers in a slow, sensual manner. “Mm, that’s so good.”

  I grab another doughnut before she can try to feed me again. “Yummy.” I nod toward the temple across the way. “So, the shrine to Tamarau is in there?”

  Rinari raises her eyebrows and looks up at the main building. “Hm? No, that’s just for Chysa.” Her hands are full, but she bumps her hip against mine. “It’s so cute what a country bumpkin you are. Your village put all the gods into one little temple, right? We have enough space to dedicate a separate shrine for the popular gods.” She gestures around to the buildings surrounding the rest of the square.

  I look around me with new eyes. I’d never bothered to see what other buildings were here, but I’d just assumed they were something else. Now I notice the iconography around the entrances of each, showcasing which gods are honored inside. The largest temple is for Chysa, and then five other buildings cluster around it, one each for the industrial gods: Qachmy, Sawycha, Omer, Xiso, and Linar.

  My gaze lingers on Qachmy’s shrine, decorated with fruits and flowers from the rainforest. Could I get closer to the goddess if I prayed at her altar?

  But Rinari polishes off the last of the doughnuts, throws away the empty tray, and leads me toward Sawycha’s building. “In here, silly.”

  Dedicated to the sea goddess, this temple is covered in seashells and driftwood, along with carvings of various ocean life into the stone. When we step inside, the main room hosts a large altar with a statue of Sawycha. Serynda is far inland, but there’s a few offerings to the sea goddess even here, from people praying for safe passage across the ocean for themselves or friends. I look up at the statue’s face. What is it like to speak to her in person? Is she as fearsome as Qachmy? But the stone carving betrays nothing.

  Rinari pulls me farther in, and I see smaller altars and shrines set into the walls along the sides, for other gods and goddesses associated with Sawycha. And a small niche for St. Jenatta the Wayfinder, a mortal woman who served as the goddess’s prophet. A shiver runs down my spine when I see the painting of the saint. Only saints and priestesses are supposed to speak with the gods directly. I must be careful what I say about Qachmy, because some might consider my contact with her blasphemous.