Forged by Fate fotg-1

by Amalia Dillin

  Lightning flashed outside, thunder crackling like fireworks. Michael’s eyes narrowed, his head turning to the window. Rain pelted against the glass, turning to hail in the space of a heartbeat. The angel’s nostril’s flared, and Eve felt his fury wash over her, blistering her thoughts. Her hands went to her temples and she fell to her knees with a strangled cry, gripping her skull.

  He glanced back at her again, his lip curling. “If you let him touch you, there will be no power on earth that will stop me from delivering your punishment.” He bent down, bringing his face to hers, so near she could smell the brimstone of his skin. “You and all your people will die.”

  Before she could respond, Michael was gone. The sound of the rain against the window seemed to quench the fire in her soul, though she did not have the strength to rise. Her whole body trembled, and she dropped her face to the tile floor, her eyes flooding with tears.

  Never, she promised herself, shaking with silent sobs. Never.

  Eve had no memory of returning to the bed, spent from weeping, but somehow she woke up there, snug and warm beneath the blankets with Alex’s bassinet within reach. When Garrit came to take her home, a fine mist still hung over the earth and for a moment she could have sworn she glimpsed a man standing out by the tree, so often struck. But he had no wings, and somehow, with the dampness against her face and the roll of thunder in the sky as she ducked into the house holding Alex in her arms, she had never felt safer.

  Chapter Thirty-eight: Creation

  Eve watched the others cross the grassland from the precipice. Eri rumbled against her side, his skin shivering beneath her hand. It was Hannah, she thought, by the golden hair, and Lamech with her. He was tall and brown and when he looked at Hannah, she could see the love in his face. Reu would be pleased if Hannah and Lamech had married. They had been his closest friends while living in the Garden. Before Eve had been made and God had died.

  Eri sniffed delicately at the wind, and dropped to the stone, watching the movement in the valley through narrow eyes. Eve sat beside the lion, her legs hanging over the ledge. Reu stood beneath them with Tzofi, but Eve had sent the other two lions ahead into the grasses to keep the hyenas away. An early hunt had resulted in a good sized antelope roasting over the fire, ready to feed the others when they arrived.

  Reu tickled the bottom of her feet and Eve laughed, pulling them back up. He smiled. “You’re almost as brown as Lamech, now. They’ll hardly recognize you.”

  She could see others behind the pair, but they weren’t close enough to tell apart from one another, and the bird she had used to identify Hannah had found other interests.

  “Perhaps that’s just as well. Should I take a new name? Maybe Adam won’t know me.” She could already feel the touch of Adam’s mind against hers, searching, and knew the idea was worthless.

  “You’ll be safe, Eve. Hannah and Lamech will help you, too.”

  She scratched Eri behind the ears. “Adam’s angry.”

  “I would expect nothing less.”

  “I don’t see the angels anymore.” She frowned at the sky and dropped to the ground beside Reu. “They must have left in the night. Where do they go?”

  He shook his head, putting his arm around her shoulders. “I don’t know. Adam might.”

  She sighed. “There are so many things he keeps from us. So many things we’ll never know because of him.”

  He kissed her forehead. “So many things we’ll learn on our own without his help. We have God’s law, we know right from wrong; nothing else matters anymore.”

  She let herself be reassured, but the problem had nagged at the back of her mind since they’d left the Garden. Adam knew so much about God. Maybe he could be convinced to tell them. Or at least to tell her. She wanted to know where she came from. She wanted to know God, her creator, her father.

  They sat together in the shade of the stone as the sun rose higher, hoping the trail they had broken through the grasses and worn into the dirt would be enough to lead Hannah and Lamech to them. The shadows shortened and then stretched, and when Reu’s two friends arrived, exhausted and parched, Reu fed them and Eve brought them water. The lions watched the new-comers closely and Eve twice hushed Eri’s snarls. If they were fortunate, Adam would be as frightened by Eri as Hannah and Lamech were.

  “The angels told us to find you,” Hannah said after they had eaten. “They said you could teach us to live outside the Garden. Adam was furious. He tried to order them to kill you both. He shouted at Michael until the Chorus brought him to his knees, and we all wept from the pain.”

  Eve sat against Eri’s flank, and Reu crouched beside her, carving the remaining meat into manageable pieces. “The others?” he asked.

  Lamech shrugged, wary eyes on the lion at her side. “Lilith will follow Adam. Sarah means to come here. Those who were afraid of Adam were even more afraid of the angels. They’ll come to you and Eve.”

  “And Adam?” Eve asked.

  Hannah met her gaze, her expression filled with sympathy. “Lamech thinks his pride will prevent him from joining us, but I think he’ll come, if only for you. It does not sit well with him that you chose Reu.”

  Eve nodded, pulling her knees to her chest. If she cleared her mind, she could feel him even now. Circling. Waiting. Watching. How much could he feel of her? Did he know she was afraid? Did he know she was curious? Lately she had begun to wonder if her curiosity was his or her own. She wasn’t sure if she could tell the difference anymore.

  Reu touched her cheek, and she tore her gaze from the fire to look at him, unable to avoid seeing the concern in his face. Feeling the worry as his fingers twined into her hair. “With Lamech and the lions there is little he can do. If he comes, he will follow our rule, or he will be made to leave.”

  “If he ate of the fruit, it isn’t that simple. What he’s done to Lilith could be done to another.” Eve shivered in memory. The taint of Lilith’s mind, the way he had choked it, still made her feel twisted and sick. “What I’ve accomplished with the lions will be nothing compared to what he will do to you.”

  Hannah frowned. “Surely the angels would not have sent Adam to you, sent all of us into your care, only to deliver us further into his power? They said he’s lost the right to rule. We’re to follow only you and he’s forbidden to threaten us.”

  “I don’t know, Hannah.” Eve looked back at the fire. “I don’t know what to think of them or what they’ll do. They said they wouldn’t help us any further.”

  One of the lions roared outside the cave, and Eri rose to his feet, padding to the entrance, tail switching and nose twitching. Eve closed her eyes, letting herself see through the lion’s eyes, smell with its senses. It was getting easier to do, and not just with the lions. Birds were the easiest, and the most helpful. She could see the entirety of the valley if the right bird soared overhead.

  Eri made a rattling noise that wasn’t quite a growl, and she saw the movement in the dark. More people. Terrified and stumbling.

  “It isn’t Adam,” she told Reu. “Not yet.”

  She heard him stand and leave the cave, stopping by the fire to choose a good-sized brand as a torch. She could hear the lick of the flames and the shift of the wood with Eri’s ears.

  She cleared her head with a little shake and smiled at Hannah and Lamech. “If you feel up to it, I think it would reassure them if they saw you with Reu, alive and well.”

  Lamech made to rise, but Hannah put a hand on his shoulder, pressing him back to the cave floor. “I’ll go. Stay with Eve.”

  She followed Reu’s steps, giving Eri as wide a berth as possible. Eve called Eri back to her softly. His tail flicked again and he rumbled so low she felt it in her bones, but he came and sat beside her.

  Lamech shook his head. “I never thought I’d see a lion tamed to obey like a dog.”

  She smiled and stroked Eri’s mane. “Not quite like a dog, from what little I saw. The dog wants to please its master. Lives for praise. Eri only does so to serve
his own interests. The pride eats better with Reu’s help hunting, and fire keeps the hyenas and vultures from their kills.”

  “Only Elohim could tame the wild beasts, Eve. Until you.”

  She looked away from his face. The earnestness. The belief in his eyes and the faith in his heart. He was so much like Reu. “If I can do this, Adam can too.”

  Lamech made a noise in his throat and she could feel his disgust. “Can, perhaps, but would never lower himself to bother with lesser beasts. And he would not think to help them in exchange.”

  Reu and Hannah returned with the others before she could answer. There were many this time, and Eve recognized Seth and Sarah and Enoch among them. She rose to welcome them, offering food and water, and the softer furs she’d been able to sew together into blankets. Eri slunk away from so many strangers, his teeth bared, but Eve calmed him and sent him outside.

  In the end, she and Reu slipped from the cave to sleep on the stone above with the lions for warmth and the stars for privacy. She wondered how long it would be before she was used to all their thoughts and emotions washing over her like water in the stream. There were so many dreams, and even prayers floating through her mind. But then Reu kissed her and all of it dropped away.

  Eve woke before the sun came up and it took her a long moment to understand what had pulled her from her dreams. Then she heard Eri’s angry snarl and Tzofi’s answer from below. She sat up, careful not to wake Reu, and crept to the edge of the overhang where Eri stood, head low, body crouched.

  It was barely more than a whisper on the wind, but she knew the voice and she shivered. Eri snarled again, ready to leap, but she put a hand on his shoulder and climbed quietly down to the earth.

  Tzofi had him cornered against the rocks. His fingers closed around a stone that looked deadly sharp in the pre-dawn light, and his face was a mask of arrogance and anger. He stepped forward when he saw her, and Tzofi growled. She did not call the lion to task, but stared at him, covered in dust and dirt.

  Adam had come.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  He straightened, confident still, even with the lion ready to leap at his throat. But then she remembered he couldn’t be killed either, and her stomach wrenched. Perhaps she should have woken Reu.

  “Food, shelter. The same as these others you’ve welcomed.” Weak fools, pathetic, really.

  “You need neither,” she said, wondering if he realized she had heard him. Better if he didn’t.

  “You would let Lilith starve to spite me?”

  She looked back at Eri on the precipice. His silhouette golden with the first of the sun. “Maybe letting her die would be a kindness, instead of living under your control. And how do I know you won’t do the same to the others too, if I give you what you ask for? If I let you live among us?”

  “Is it your choice to make? To condemn her to death? You rejected me and the power I offered you. You chose not to be a goddess when I would have given you the world. Who are you to decide if her life is worth living or not?”

  “You are a threat to all of them, Adam.” His face was smooth, anger no longer hardening his eyes. But she could taste the bitterness of his emotions, still, on the back of her tongue, and the black fury, so well hidden from his expression, lashed against her mind like a pacing lion, snarling and snapping its tail. The others would not have her advantage, they would not realize he only waited for his moment to strike. “To all of us.”

  “Not you.” He flicked his fingers to indicate the lions. “And you seem to have found a way to protect the others. But I could have done them harm already and I didn’t. It isn’t them you fear for, is it Eve? Did you give yourself to that dog?” His eyes raked over her body, his gaze burning. “Did you let him plant a child inside your womb?”

  She wrapped her arms around her body, hating the way he looked at her. “Reu is my husband and he leads at my side, here.”

  He laughed, harsh and low. “You would have done better to stay with me.”

  “Lilith can come to us. I will not refuse her,” she said, speaking over him. “But you’ll have to ask Reu if he’ll have you.”

  He grinned and stepped forward, only to be stopped once again by Tzofi, her tail switching wildly and teeth bared. “I can answer all your questions, Eve. I can help you here. Reu will know that. That’s why you want me to go to him. You want me here.”

  She shook her head and turned away. “You can speak to him when he wakes. In the meantime, Tzofi will guard you to be sure you harm no one. Perhaps she cannot kill you, but she can hurt you, Adam. And she will, if you do anything to us.”

  “And Lilith?”

  The sun streamed over the stone, warming her face and arms. She hadn’t realized how cold she was, standing there, until the sun touched her again. “The lions will not harm her. She’ll be fed and sheltered. But if you hurt her again, I’ll have the same taken out of your hide by Eri.”

  “I’m at your mercy, Eve.” But she didn’t like the way he smiled, or the flash of triumph in his eyes. She didn’t like the feeling that somehow she had done exactly what he had hoped she would.

  She stroked Tzofi between the shoulder blades, encouraging her to watch Adam, to keep him from the others, to protect Reu most of all. And then she walked away, back to her bed on the precipice. Back to Reu’s side.

  But her peace was shattered, and as long as Adam was near, she wasn’t sure she would ever get it back.

  Chapter Thirty-nine: 154 AD

  “Father, you cannot honestly be considering this!”

  “Elohim’s daughter is a threat to all the gods, a threat to the very world we live in. The way these Christians are growing, we need every advantage we can gain. And was not the movement begun by her son? Only a fool would not consider it.” Odin sat back on his throne, a raven on his shoulder and the other high in the rafters.

  Thor inhaled deeply through his nose and began to count, trying to keep his temper under control and the thunder from the sky. The Council was tomorrow. Losing his temper now would destroy any chance he had of convincing Odin he could not sentence Eve to death. “This can’t just be about us, Father, about our people. This has to be about the world. You say she is a threat to it, but I tell you she is its nurturer! The angels told me—”

  “Of course the angels told you she was necessary. If she is the True God’s tool, his means of working within this world, then they would spare no lie, no deceit to keep her. They play on your emotions, Thor. You’re being turned against us, against your family, your people, your fellow gods. For what? Love of a woman you can never have? She would turn us all out into the void the moment you revealed yourself!”

  “You know nothing of her, and worse, you have shut your mind to all reason.” He felt his eyes burn, and tried to calm himself again. The sky had begun to darken, but no thunder broke. He took another breath, and struggled to keep his tone even. “It only makes sense that she is here for a purpose. That she is made to protect humanity. To save it. We should not interfere in things we do not understand, Father. Surely you, in your wisdom, recognize this truth?”

  “In my wisdom, I recognize that you have been subverted. I cannot be certain of your loyalty to me or mine, nor can I trust your judgment when it comes to the woman you call Eve. I have made up my mind.” Odin stood then, and glowered. “You will obey the Council’s decision, Thor, no matter what it is, and you will obey me.”

  “I will speak my mind, Odin. And I will fight for her right to live tomorrow. If that means disobedience, so be it.” He turned and left the chamber, slamming the door on his way out. He heard the startled squawk of Odin’s ravens and found at least some satisfaction in disturbing something, even if he had not changed Odin’s mind.

  Odin sides with Sif. He sent the thought to Athena, and in his anger, thunder cracked, lightning flashing overhead. It began to rain, but he found the water beating onto his shoulders and head to be more comforting than anything else. He belonged to the rain, to the storm,
to the sky. And it belonged to him. An outward expression of his feelings, of his person.

  It won’t matter, Thor. It won’t be enough, she replied. Calm yourself. The threat of the Christians works in our favor, now.

  Not with Odin. He blames Eve. It disgusted him. Odin had always prided himself on his wisdom, on his justice. It was not wrong to protect the defenseless, and it would cost the Aesir nothing to stand for Eve. It was not as though she joined in preaching the Christian doctrine! The sect could be crushed without killing her, but Odin looked at her, and saw only the author of his troubles. He blamed her even for the break in Thor’s marriage, though Sif had carried on her affair with Loki long before Thor had ever thought of loving Eve.

  Athena sighed. We are all selfish, concerned only with ourselves, or preserving our power, our domination, our people. It is rare we look outside our small areas of influence and care for the larger world. The Covenant does not really allow for it.

  Do you believe Michael spoke the truth? Her death will undo the world?

  Bhagavan believes it, and I have never known the angels to lie, but that does not mean they will not do what they must to preserve the True God’s creation. If nothing else, you are right that we should not interfere in what we cannot fully understand.

  He grunted and sat down on a stone bench, letting the rain soak through his clothes to his skin. He closed his eyes and turned his face to the sky. I have lost my father’s trust, the trust of the Aesir, for Eve.

  You’ve acted only as your conscience dictated. There is no shame in this. Those of us outside Asgard still trust in you, perhaps all the more so because of it. Have peace, Thor, it will be over soon.

  Her mind faded from his, and he was alone with his thoughts again.

  The rain had softened to a sprinkle, and he rubbed the water from his face, opening his eyes to stare at the world tree. World to world, place to place, always offering its golden fruit. His mother’s tree, but Thor had no memories of her.