Tammuz continued to skirt the small lake as they talked, sometimes walking into the shallow water to splash playfully before continuing.
“The Spring Rites are only four moon cycles away, but if you and Asharru haven’t yet become mates of your own free will, Ishtar and I will not expect the Sacred Marriage. Those two,” Tammuz indicated Bashaa and Laliya, “will be able to receive enough of our power to bless all the crops and the herds for another year. Perhaps by next year you and Asharru will have overcome your differences.”
Tirigan’s mouth was so dry, he wasn’t sure if he could form words, but he managed to clear his throat and spit out, “Thank you for understanding…”
Tammuz nodded. “I always will.”
If the god truly understood, then he would know what was bothering Tirigan. “I am not sure if I’m a worthy mate for one such as Asharru. Perhaps another would be better.”
Tammuz chuckled, his entire expression lighting up with his amusement. “Do you really think you could just stand aside while another man steals the woman you love? Not that Asharru would go along with such a plan. She and her gryphon are equally attached to you.”
Tirigan stared ahead unhappily.
The god had a point. Tirigan really didn’t like the idea of Asharru with another man.
“Blade, all you have to do is reach out and take something for yourself for once to finally know happiness.”
“But what if I am not able to win Asharru’s heart?”
The youthful god grinned. “You are already halfway there, but if it makes you feel better, do whatever you think you must to become worthy of her love.”
“I…”
“It’s foolish to fight love and happiness, my young Blade.” With those parting words, Tammuz darted into the water and splashed Kuri and Hunzuu this time, catching the guards by surprise.
Their expressions probably echoed Tirigan’s own.
The God of the Harvest wasn’t very….godlike.
Eventually, the youthful deity returned, water dripping from his clothing and hair, a huge grin on his face. “Tirigan of the Blade, have you had time enough to dwell upon what I’m offering?”
Glancing down at his hands, Tirigan realized he had. “I would be honored to accept your gifts, as well as act as host for the Sacred Marriage should Asharru and I become mates.”
Tammuz laughed. “As I had very much hoped. Come then. Ishtar and I have more than one gift to bestow. We should get started.”
Tirigan nodded.
“With your agreement, I bestow the first of my gifts.” The god laid a hand over Tirigan’s chest.
A foreign and yet familiar presence reached within Tirigan, touching his soul—tearing down a barrier he hadn’t even known existed—and released a torrent of power. But there was more than just power.
Knowledge came with it.
Knowledge of how to create a spell that would bind all his new Shadows together in loyalty to each other and to the throne.
Though that wasn’t the only gift.
With that bond of magic would come another gift, one like how a Blade could sense danger.
“And now I gift you with the ability to withstand hosting a god,” Tammuz said softly.
Before the god was done, Tirigan felt full to bursting with new power and knowledge.
“Tomorrow you will thank Ishtar and me for the gifts we bestow this night.”
“Tomorrow? Why not now?” Tirigan asked. Though he already sensed something in the god’s words, the hint of an ordeal yet to overcome.
“Tonight, you’ll be too busy cursing our names. As one of Ishtar’s male Blades which has agreed to be my host, you must accept my power as well as hers, which is stressful enough for a mortal body. But you now also carry one of my gifts to your Shadows. It is a great gift, one that will help protect the royal line in the generations between Blades. The pain you feel tonight as your body changes will be well rewarded later.”
Tirigan nodded his understanding. “That is a most worthy gift. What is a little pain in comparison?”
“If the danger hadn’t been so dire, we would have spread our gifts out over several Blooding Ceremonies,” Tammuz sounded almost apologetic. “Alas, our enemies will not grant us that time. We must act now.”
“Can you tell us something of them? Who they are. Their plans?”
Ishtar joined them just then. “My sister guards her agents almost as closely as I guard my Blades and Monarchs. I’m sorry. Her human agents wear medallions to hide from me, and without a host, my powers are limited here in the living world. That’s why I first created my Blades, but even you, one of the greatest Blades ever born, will be hard pressed to find them.”
Tammuz frowned. “And this time Ereshkigal has convinced the oldest of the Anunnaki to aid her. That enemy could be anywhere.”
Tirigan nodded. “Everyone is suspect.”
“Good,” Ishtar laughed. “Keep that level of diligence, and you will be victorious.”
He planned to.
“Now,” Ishtar said as she ran her fingers along Tirigan’s collarbone. “Have you agreed to host my Tammuz?”
“Of course, great Goddess. It would be an honor. Though my duty will be contingent upon Asharru and I growing close enough to become mates.” Tirigan bowed to the goddess, hoping to appease her since she seemed less easygoing than her husband.
“I have no use for an unwilling male either. Learn to love your queen and all else will fall into place,” the goddess said. “Now that we have settled that, it is time to make you a Blade in truth.”
Tammuz stepped back, and Asharru followed the god’s lead. Then it was only Tirigan and Ishtar, mother of gryphons and goddess of love and war.
“Receive now my gifts,” she sang as she spread her great double set of wings wide. Power bled off her, outlining each feather and voluptuous curve of her body.
Ishtar’s presence reached within, touching his soul. It spread outward through his body, expanding to every corner of his being, sharpening his mind and all his senses. It was a breathtaking rush.
Swiftly the sensation became a pressure and then a pounding in his blood. It was so expansive and consuming he didn’t even recognize it as desire at first. He’d only just accepted it as such when the pounding edged over into discomfort and then straight into blazing pain.
He grunted and stumbled blindly, unable to maintain his balance or even see. Darkness crawled across his vision as he stumbled in the direction he hoped the benches sat. His stumbling steps carried him forward until his feet found water. He’d reached the edge of the lake.
Warm fingers suddenly curled around his. Asharru. Even with his senses blind he knew it was her and clung a little desperately to the only anchor he had in this sudden maelstrom of magic.
A strong arm came around his shoulders, drawing him up against her smaller body.
Merciful gods, he’d never been so happy to hold hands in his life.
Still blinded by the power, all he could do was turn toward her and bury his face in her hair, drawing in her scent. A mix of perfume, soap, and her. It helped to distract him from the pain long enough to allow her to half carry him toward the bench.
“Easy. It will be over soon. Here. Sit” She guided him down. “Yes, that’s it. Sit.”
His body no longer his to control, he collapsed forward as Asharru settled beside him. Her strength held him up when he would have fallen on his face. They stayed like that for a long time. Him immobile. Her rocking him gently.
Slowly awareness returned. Blinking, he realized he could see again if a little blurrily.
Just as he was drawing breath to ask what had happened, another wave of power rolled over him. An intense heat built in the palms of his hands. He gasped and pressed his palms against the stone of the bench, but it did nothing to ease the heat.
“Here,” Asharru whispered in his ear as her fingers covered his, turning his hands until the palms faced each other but didn’t touch.
Anoth
er surge of power had him gritting his teeth against a scream as a searing flash of light expanded out from between his hands.
At last, even as spots still danced in his vision, the power flowing into him slowed to a trickle.
Asharru pressed closer, her arms wrapped around him like when she’d been anointing his mark, though this time she was supporting him instead of clinging to him. His vision cleared enough he could see what his magic had created.
Laying lengthwise between his palms was a sword, but this was no regular sword. Its hilt was golden in color but wasn’t made of any natural mineral. The substance pulsed with power. And the rest of the sword was no more ordinary than its hilt.
The blade looked to be made of crystal. Encased inside was a living fire that beat like a heart. He’d never seen the legendary sword of a Blade—they vanished at the death of their wielder—but he’d seen drawings in ancient scrolls.
This weapon belonged to a Blade of Ishtar.
The fire that slowly flickered and churned deep within the sword’s crystalline length was mesmerizing to behold.
Or perhaps that was the shock setting in.
“I’m here, Tirigan.” Asharru’s soft breath tickled his neck, and he turned toward her, nuzzling her hair, needing something only his monarch could give him.
“We have given all we can this time,” Ishtar said, her voice carrying across the water. “Though Tirigan’s ordeal is not yet over. The power will soon begin to change him, making him stronger, awakening his new gryphon nature. That will be painful, though it doesn’t have to be.”
Tirigan drifted as Ishtar spoke with Asharru.
He didn’t care what they talked about as long as his future queen continued to hold him and kept stroking her fingers down his side in that delightful manner.
“I hate seeing Tirigan in pain.” Asharru continued to stroke him, but now she was hugging him to her and running a hand down his back. That was nice, too.
His mind drifted again for a time.
“He can feel pleasure instead of pain.” Ishtar’s voice again.
“No…he would not want that either, not after all he’s endured.”
“He is your Blade. You must comfort him even as he would comfort you if your positions were reversed.”
“But he is barely conscious.”
That wasn’t true. He was aware of everything. Every little detail and sensation of her pressed against his back. If she continued to hold him like this, he could die happy.
“Don’t say that. You will not die on me!”
Huh? He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
“There are only two choices. Watching him writhe in pain or shiver with pleasure,” Ishtar said with more patience than Tirigan thought she possessed. “He has been a good Blade to you so far. He deserves passion over pain, but it is up to you. Neither I nor my husband will ever force you into something you are not comfortable doing.”
“Tirigan’s not in any condition to make decisions.” Asharru’s voice was tense with worry.
He somehow sensed Ishtar shrug even though he wasn’t looking up.
After a time, he realized he was seeing through Asharru’s eyes, feeling what she felt. Was this some new power? It must be.
Grunting, he forced himself to look up. A fiery pain radiated down his spine with the movement, but he’d managed the small feat.
Now he wanted to tell Asharru not to worry, that he’d be fine if she kept touching him.
It felt so good he reached for her hands and pressed them against his chest, just over his pounding heart.
Ishtar chuckled. “I think that’s your answer. Show kindness to Tirigan and help distract him while my power makes the necessary changes to his body.”
With that last utterance, Ishtar’s form shimmered once more and she vanished as swiftly as she’d come.
Chapter 32
Tirigan blinked slowly at the place where a goddess had stood just moments before. It took longer than it should for him to force himself to look around for the Harvest God. But the deceptively youthful-looking Tammuz was gone.
“It’s over.” He wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. He just hoped it was the truth. He was feeling somewhat fragile and didn’t want to undergo anything more taxing than sleep.
Unfortunately, his body had other ideas. A new wave of pain coursed through his body. He shifted uncomfortably until Asharru released him.
“Tirigan, are you alright?”
“Yes. Think so. Or at least I will be.” He hoped the last part wasn’t a lie. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “I’d like to be alone.”
“The gods said…”
He gently placed his fingers over her lips. “Shhh. The gods are powerful, and sometimes that strength is tempered by wisdom, but they are not all-knowing. Neither of us is ready for the kind of intimacy Ishtar suggested. I think it would be better if you leave me to meditate by myself for a while.”
“I don’t like leaving you while you’re…” Asharru frowned. “Ishtar said the changes would be painful, but there were ways to distract and channel that into something you’d find more pleasant.”
Tirigan gritted his teeth against another wave of pressure that seemed to tighten his skin over his flesh and bones. “It will be fine. It’s not like I haven’t experienced unpleasantries before.
“Fine,” Asharru said, sounding uncertain. “But I won’t go far.”
Tirigan reached out and cupped her face, leaning forward until he could press a kiss to Asharru’s mouth. He brushed his lips against hers, firm but gentle.
His body urged him to turn the kiss into something far, far less innocent, but he retained enough control to deny the darkness, that part of his nature that saw sex as a battle to be won. With more than a little regret, he broke the kiss.
“What was that for?” she asked, though she didn’t seem upset.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted as he stepped away. “I think it was a promise.”
Still looking thoughtful, she leaned forward to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek in return.
“And that?” he asked.
“My promise to you.” She grinned at him then. “If you want me to go, I will, but I won’t go far. I’ll guard you while your body undergoes the changes. If you want me to stay, I will.”
He nodded, the temptation to ask her to stay was strong. His kiss had given his body ideas. But now wasn’t the time for that, not when the darker part of his nature was so close to the surface.
“Go,” he said at last.
“Here, take this.” Asharru draped a blanket over his shoulders.
“Thank you.”
She nodded. “Call me if you change your mind and don’t want to go through this alone.”
Asharru’s hand cupped his jaw as her thumb stroked over his lips. It was all he could do not to grab her and lock her in his arms. But he held the bench in a punishing grip, and at last, she stepped back.
When she turned away, his gaze landed on Bashaa and Laliya.
‘One of us stay?’ Bashaa signed, using their secret hand gestures.
Tirigan shook his head and added. ‘I’ll survive. Stay close to Asharru. Protect.’
Laliya looked unhappy and then signed a flurry of words. ‘Gods expected Monarch to stay. Comfort Blade.’
‘My choice. Go.’ Another powerful wave of pain washed over Tirigan. He gritted his teeth and flexed his fingers, gripping the stone bench harder.
Leaning forward, he breathed in and out slowly as he allowed the flickering of the crystalline sword to mesmerize him. Perhaps if he could reach a deep enough state of meditation, he could ride out the worst of the pain without it touching him.
Chapter 33
Asharru placed a blanket around Tirigan’s shoulders and then backed away from him slowly. It was far harder to do than she’d expected. Everything in her wanted to stay. To sit on that bench next to him and soothe him, to be whatever he needed at that moment.
; But he’d wanted her to go, and she would honor his wish.
“Hunzuu, stay and guard Tirigan. The rest of us will retreat a little ways and wait for my Blade to recover.”
She was already ushering Bashaa and Laliya towards the exit when Kuri stepped in front of her.
“This is a bad idea. You should stay with him, not separate the group now. There are too many dangers lurking to divide our numbers.
Asharru might have agreed, but she wasn’t going to argue with Tirigan’s wishes. He had so few demands, she would honor this one. “We aren’t leaving. Just waiting a short distance away. Close enough we can all regroup if need be.”
Kuri continued to grumble as they made their way partway up the stairs. It wasn’t until they stopped that Asharru realized they were down more than just Hunzuu and Tirigan.
Laliya was missing.
Turning to Bashaa, she narrowed her eyes. “Where’s Laliya?”
Though she already knew. The woman was with Tirigan. She’d stayed behind. Asharru whirled to go back, but Bashaa was suddenly in front of her, blocking the way.
“Crown Princess, if you’re merciful you’ll let Tirigan have what comfort Laliya can give him.”
“But he didn’t want anyone.”
Bashaa shook his head. “He didn’t trust himself with you, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt your feelings by asking for someone else’s aid, but that’s not the same as not needing help. Plus, he’s always been too proud to ask for aid.”
His words were like an unexpected punch.
Unaware of how his words had hurt her, he continued. “Even drunk on power, he retained enough common sense to know you are gryphon and can’t give him what he needs. Tirigan would rather die than unleash a certain part of his nature on you.”
Her eyes widened in understanding. Tirigan thought he was being noble and protecting her from his darker nature. “I’m a gryphon. I can protect myself.”
Blade's Destiny (Ishtar's Legacy Book 3) Page 19
