The room had no chairs now, no happy half circle; even the curtain was gone. Kammani was standing beside the altar in the middle of the room, facing the back wall, toward the bas-relief that was now illuminated by the torches, and Abby could see them all, their ancestors, carved into the ancient stone. Kammani turned, and Abby saw that she was in full regalia again—heavy linen robes with jeweled collar and headpiece, a belt of golden links around her waist with a jewel-encrusted knife stuck into it—kind of like Cher dressed as a nun—but she’d changed from the first time they’d seen her in full goddess drag. There was a wildness in her eyes now, an instability in her stance. And her robes didn’t fit anymore; the bands of embroidery now didn’t meet where they were supposed to and the ceremonial knife sat cocked on her hip instead of hanging by her side. She looked like somebody dressed up like Kammani, not the goddess herself. Mina stood beside her, in a business suit, which oddly made her more threatening, except that she had no eyebrows or eyelashes and the dank hair that usually half-covered her face was now singed and slightly curly.
“Arsonist bitch,” Abby snarled at Mina. “You’re going down.”
Mina ignored her to watch Kammani, not slavishly but the way a girl might watch a mother who was about to humiliate her. She had Mort in her arms, and he watched them all, breathing hard, his scratchy little “heh heh heh” underscoring their tension.
“Vanquish Kammani now; pull Mina’s hair later,” Daisy said from the corner of her mouth, then spoke louder. “Hey, Kammani. We need to talk.”
Kammani regarded them with regal grace, unfazed. “I am the goddess. You are my servants. And my great plan is begun.”
“About that,” Daisy said. “The Flood. You need to stop it. Right now.”
“This is what happens when a people are unfaithful,” Kammani said, looking pointedly from Abby to Daisy to Shar. “The Flood will cleanse the earth of non-believers. Only those who respect my power will survive.”
“How?” Abby said. “Do they float longer? You’re not making sense.”
Mina shook her head at them. “She went off her meds and now she’s impossible.”
“You were medicating her?” Shar said, appalled.
“Enough.” Sam went up to the foot of the altar, and Shar put out a hand as if to stop him and then pulled it back. He climbed the steps to Kammani. “Stop the Flood.”
Kammani turned to Sam, her eyes glittering. “You think to command me, Samu? This world is mine now. I have taken it. And all will be as it was before.”
“No,” Sam said, and she turned from him to face the back wall, pushing past him to the other side of the altar.
Abby looked from Shar to Daisy, and they both nodded.
“It’s showtime,” Abby said in a soft voice. She crossed the floor to the back of the altar to face Kammani in front of the bas-relief and found the first hot spot marked with chalk. Kammani frowned at her, but Abby ignored her, waiting until Daisy and Shar found their spots. Then Abby raised her hands over her head, praying like hell the mystical bowl would reappear.
“What—,” Kammani began, and then it must have registered, the marks on the tiles and Abby’s hands upraised. She turned to Sam. “You told them!”
“Enough,” Sam said. “Take us back to Kamesh—”
“Us?” Shar said, but even as she took a step, Kammani snarled, “Traitor!” and grabbed the knife from her belt and plunged it into Sam’s stomach.
“NO!” Daisy yelled as Shar screamed and Sam went down on his knees. Daisy looked at Abby, who was staring at Kammani, concentrating hard, her arms over her head.
A bowl of amber light appeared between her hands.
“Is it working?” Abby stage-whispered.
“Yes,” Daisy said, staring at the bowl as a bright amber glow washed down from it, shimmering around Abby’s body like waves of heat over asphalt. Daisy raised her hands as well, and said, “Chant!” to Abby.
“You must descend,” Abby began, her words slow and sure, “To the darkness . . . ”
Behind her, Daisy heard a crack, as if stone was breaking, but her attention was on Shar now, staring in horror at Sam trying to raise himself on the platform as blood seeped from around the knife. She took a step to go to him, but Daisy whispered, “Shar!” and Shar looked at her, her eyes hot with tears and rage, and then nodded and stepped back onto her spot, raising her hands over her head, the blue glow around her growing stronger as she focused.
Daisy looked back and saw that Kammani was floating now, suspended above the altar in a spiral of amber light, looking oddly calm, while Mina jumped up to grab her foot and missed. What the hell?
“… Of the place without souls,” Abby finished, her voice strong and firm, and Daisy felt the spindle form in her hands over her head. She clamped onto it, warm and ancient and powerful in her grasp.
“Depart from us / Go where you belong,” Daisy said, and Kammani began to spin in the air, trailing carnelian light, and Daisy could feel the heat of shimmering power radiating out from her like firelight, a wind rising within the room. Behind them, she heard another crack and something heavy smashed on the stone floor. She thought, Not good, but she kept chanting. “To the place of despair …”
Kammani began to spin faster, her robes whipping around her, and Daisy shouted, “We now cast you out!”
Then in unison, they chanted, “We abjure you by / The Great Goddess Who is Three,” and Kammani spread her arms out wide, threw her head back, and laughed.
“Wait a minute,” Daisy said, but Shar had already begun.
“Now you are bound,” she said, the sword materializing blue-white overhead, her body electric with color as her eyes glittered, and Kammani held out her arms.
“Now you are sealed,” Shar chanted, and Daisy said, “Shar, stop!” as Kammani seemed to inhale the blue light that surrounded her.
Shar stopped, and Kammani stopped revolving and looked down at them, larger than before, multicolored light pulsing from her, and then she reached out toward Abby, taking all the amber light around her, absorbing it into herself, Kammani glowing brighter and Abby dimmer.
“Abby!” Christopher shouted. He grabbed a torch off the wall and swung it as he charged Kammani.
Kammani turned to him, and Abby stumbled back, dropping her bowl, as Kammani flung her hand in Christopher’s direction, sending him and the torch flying back, crashing into the sidewall with a horrible crack. Then she settled back onto the platform, glowing with amber light, and stared into Daisy’s eyes.
“Daisy!” Shar screamed as Daisy’s ears filled with a deafening whoosh and her breath was pulled out of her. She went dizzy and weak, her vision dimmed. It didn’t feel like falling, more like the ground coming up to meet her, pounding into her hands and knees, and she tried to pull air into her lungs, but she couldn’t.
This is how I’m going to die, she thought distantly. Huh.
Then the whoosh died down, and vaguely, somewhere behind her, she heard the dogs barking and Kammani snarling in fury.
Daisy raised her head. In the torchlight, everything seemed to move in slow motion, Noah behind Kammani, pulling her away, and then Kammani, her body awash in stolen amber and red-orange power, lifting him by the throat. He struggled, feet flailing, and clawed at her hand. Daisy drew breath, wanting to rush Kammani, to pull her hair, scratch her eyes out, but her muscles felt weak and heavy, and Noah was dying … but then Sam was there, heaving himself up from the altar to grab Kammani’s robes.
Save him, Daisy thought. Please—
Kammani threw Noah against the wall and then turned, ripped the knife from Sam’s stomach, and plunged it into his heart.
Sam fell back, toppling down the stairs to land at the bottom, his blood splashing everywhere as Shar screamed.
They’re all dead, Daisy thought with an eerie calm. And we’re next.
Power, Kammani thought, and reveled in the richness she had sucked in, amber and carnelian, swirling inside her. They had no idea what they’d jus
t given her—
Then Shar was before her, her face hard with rage, her white hair glowing blue. “You’re finished,“ she said, but she was powerless without Daisy and Abby, stumbling to their feet behind her, shells of the goddesses they’d been.
Good, finish me, Sharrat, Kammani thought, smiling at her. Chant your chant and give me your rage at losing your lover in all that beautiful blue power.
But Shar stood there, suddenly immobilized as if she was listening, her face strange and intent… .
Act, Kammani thought, losing her smile. Lift up your arms and take your sword, dammit, and then Shar shook her head, as if shaking off a voice, and began again.
“Now you are bound / Now you are sealed—,” Shar said, the blue of her power glowing around her, and Kammani began to suck it in.
But then, the glow stopped, and Shar choked and grabbed her heart, staring, pointing beyond Kammani—
Like Vera. Kammani turned and saw Mina, her hand outstretched in a fist, gloating as Shar fell to her knees, dying.
“I need that power, you idiot,” Kammani said, and Mina released her fist, startled. “You took Vera’s power from me!“
“You didn’t need her,” Mina said, backing away. “All you need is me; I am your daughter!” and Kammani said, “Be what you are to me!” and threw all her fury at Mina, hitting her squarely in the chest, and then forgot her to turn back to all that ancient blue power.
Shar staggered to her feet, supported by Abby and Daisy, the three of them close together now, standing by Samu’s body, far from the sacred symbols Kammani had made for them.
“You are all fools,” she said to her three rebel priestesses. “You think you’re goddesses, but I’ll show you the real power in the room… .”
She stopped because they weren’t paying attention. It was as if they’d forgotten she was there, as if they were listening to something else, far away, words in the air… .
“We are one,” Abby said, putting her arm around Daisy, her voice barely a whisper now that her power was drained, and yet steady and sure.
“You are nothing,” Kammani said, and raised her hands before her to take Shar’s power, but Shar put her arms around the others and smiled at her, a smile colder than darkness, and then they looked at her, their arms around one another, just looked at her, and Kammani felt power flow out of her, shimmering, tangled, gold and red. “NO!” she said, and tried to draw it back to her, but it stopped just out of her reach, shimmering in the air between them.
“We are One,” Daisy said, and pulled Shar closer, and Kammani’s power flowed out to theirs, amber, carnelian, and blue twining together in the air in front of them.
“You are mine,” Kammani said, reaching for it greedily.
“WE ARE ONE,” Shar said.
Kammani rolled her eyes. Enough of this. Banish me again, and make me invincible!
Abby lifted her arms and the bowl appeared and Kammani closed her eyes in ecstasy and began to draw on her—
“NO,” Abby said, and threw the bowl to the ground, and it shattered and Kammani shuddered from the blow.
Daisy lifted her arms and caught her spindle and said, “NO,” and broke it over her knee, and Kammani screamed, cracking and breaking, too, as she fell to the altar, panting with pain and rage.
Shar lifted her sword and smiled at Kammani, and for the first time Kammani was afraid. “NO,” Shar said, and smashed the sword on the floor, and the shards splintered and pierced Kammani and she screamed again.
“WE ARE ONE,” the Three said, and the wall behind them cracked like thunder and fell.
No, Kammani thought, seeing the old wall revealed, pulsing with the old power, the crude figure, scratched there by savages, now alive and fixed on her. “NOT YOU, I DEFEATED YOU.” She rose tottering to her knees and lifted her arms and a great wind swirled in the temple as she said, “You are gone!” and threw all the force she had at the Three and at the wall, her power a dirty stolen mixture of red and orange, green and purple, screaming pieces of light and energy and rage—
And Abby stepped forward as if in a dream, and caught the pieces in her arms and gathered them to her heart and warmed them until they were clear and amber like the sun. Then she threw the pieces to Daisy, who caught them, graceful in her exuberance, and spun them out to bloom in one wide swath in the air as the temple glowed carnelian. Then she threw it all to Shar, like red petals in a sunset, and Shar caught it, her face pale with rage and vengeance, gathered the energy with hands as cold as death, and shattered it into stars that spun around her, blue-white. Kammani screamed, “No, you will not!” and Shar said, “THE HELL WE WON’T,” and slung the stars at her, saying, “NOW YOU ARE NIGHTMARE / NOW WE AWAKE!” and Kammani felt cold beyond knowledge of god or mortal slice into her heart.
And the world went dark.
The wind stopped, the humming in Shar’s ears went away, the light evaporated, and the temple was normal again, except that Sam was dead at her feet. She dropped to her knees, forgetting everything but him, crying out at his sightless eyes as Daisy said, “Where did that bitch go?”
Shar touched his body, still warm, and yet she knew he was gone because of the bleakness inside her. He was dead, and she couldn’t breathe without him. She leaned over him, cold and desperate and terrified, and said, “Rise!” her voice shaking, and there was nothing.
She kissed him, trying to breathe life back into him, and said, “Rise!” and there was nothing.
“I love you,” she cried to him. “I love you; I’m a goddess; you must come back to me; RISE!“
And there was nothing.
She felt Daisy’s hand on her shoulder, and then Wolfie moved in beside her and nudged Sam’s body with his nose.
He looked up at her, his beady little eyes full of pain. “He’s not there.”
“I know,” Shar said to him, choking through her tears. “I know. I know; I’m so sorry, baby.”
Milton crept up beside him. “Sam?”
Wolfie climbed into her lap, and Milton followed, and she held them close, weeping helplessly as she looked down at the body of the man she was going to love for eternity, the best man she’d ever known.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Sam, putting her hand on his heart. “I’m sorry; I should have done better; I should have been here faster; I should have been stronger; I—”
“Honey,” Daisy said, tightening her hand on Shar’s shoulder. “Sam will rise again, right? You can—”
“How?” Shar said, jerking her head up to meet Daisy’s tear-filled eyes. “How is he going to rise? She’s not here to bring him back.” She looked back at Sam’s body, and the enormity of his death hit her all over again. “I don’t know how to save him,” she raged, hysterical. “I’m not a goddess; I don’t know how—”
“THIS PLACE IS A MESS,” Abby said, and Shar looked up at her through her tears.
Abby’s face was smooth and calm as she gestured to the temple—overturned chairs, Sam’s blood splashed down the steps, the bas-relief behind them in big chunks on the floor—but her gesture was odd. Slow. As if her arm were moving through water, as if there was something in the air …
And an amber glow trailed her as she moved.
“POWER ALL OVER THE PLACE,” she said, and stooped to pick up a piece of something that glowed in her hand. “LOOKS LIKE THE INSIDE OF A GOAT’S STOMACH.”
“Abby?” Christopher said, limping toward her, his face creased with worry.
Abby brushed at the lump of glow in her hands. “DOG HAIR. DUST. DOESN’T ANYBODY EVER SWEEP IN HERE?” She bent to pick up another clump of glow, and Shar blinked back tears and saw that the floor was littered with pieces of the stuff, pale, watery, weak but there. “HONESTLY,” Abby said, and moved serenely through the temple, gathering it all into one dirty gray, glowing ball. Then she smiled at Shar, and Shar realized Abby was missing the pupils of her eyes; her entire eye glowed white.
“Abby?” Shar said, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, sudd
enly afraid. “Abby, honey? You’re not feeling … possessed or anything, are you? That’s not Kammani in there, is it?” She felt Daisy move away to stand up, and she looked up at her. “Daisy, she’s—”
Daisy’s eyes were glowing white, too.
“Daisy!“
Abby spun the ball between her hands, and dog hair and dust went flying, and the glow became amber, beautiful and strong. Then she tossed it into the air in slow motion, graceful and laughing, and Daisy caught it, and said, “YES,” in a dreamy voice and spun it out so that it arced red across the temple, filling the dark room with warm, carnelian light as she moved.
Then she turned to look down at Shar with an unearthly smile, the smile of a goddess, and Shar knew it was her turn, but there was nothing in her except loss.
She shook her head. “I … I can’t … I’m not—”
And Daisy slung the red toward her and Shar surged to her feet and caught it, and the world went blue and quiet, and she felt the peace of completion flow through her as an ancient voice whispered inside her and told her that she was the last. She stood with all that blue power in her hands and looked within it and saw the spark that was Sam. “SEND HIM TO HIS REST,” the voice whispered, and she looked down at Sam and knew the voice was right, that he was at peace after thousands of years, that his time had come, and that death was natural and good—
Something cold touched her ankle and she looked down through the glow to see Wolfie, staring up at her, worried and loving.
“IT’S ALL RIGHT, WOLFIE,” she told him. “ALL THINGS END.”
“Why?” he said.
“SO THEY CAN BEGIN AGAIN,” Shar said.
“Then begin them now,” Wolfie said, and Shar stopped, Sam’s life between her hands.
“Please,” Wolfie said. “It’s bad. Fix it.” He licked her ankle. “Sweet baby. Love you forever.”
Love you forever.
Shar looked at Daisy and Abby, the circle of Three, no beginning and no ending, and an ancestral voice rose deep within her and them, and said:
WHAT ARE YOU DOING? END HIM.
Shar lifted her head. “HIS TIME IS NOT YET.”
Dogs and Goddesses Page 34
