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“Exactly how many gods are we talking about?”
Myter seems to think for a moment, then she shrugs. “The Maiwurian pantheon is vast compared to Otera’s. Eighty gods, five new ones waiting to emerge.”
“Eighty?” Keita repeats, stunned.
“Five more waiting to emerge, so eighty-five demons…,” Belcalis whispers, as if trying to reconcile herself to the thought.
Myter’s head swivels in Belcalis’s direction. “I can hear you, you know,” she sniffs. Then she turns to me. “You may not believe me at this moment, but I vow to you, Deka, that Maiwuri and its gods are no threat to you and yours. In fact, we are your firmest allies against the Oteran scourge. Consider my defense of you against those…creatures,” she says, referring to Melanis and her hunters. “That and my healing your wounds were peace offerings. A demonstration of goodwill from Maiwuri to you.
“Now then,” she continues decisively, “will you come or not? I can’t remain here much longer. My presence has upset the balance of things.”
“But go with you where?” My eyebrows furrow. “And what balance?”
“Did you not hear me the first time?” Myter is distinctly annoyed now. “To Maiwuri. To where the gods and your mother await. And as for the balance of which I spoke, it is the one that exists between the pantheon there and the ones here. There are rules to be observed, consequences if any are broken.”
“But where is Maiwuri?” Keita insists, even as his hands tighten on his atikas. He’s still deeply suspicious, as are Britta and Li. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Me neither,” Belcalis seconds, her expression grim.
“Of course you wouldn’t have.” Myter huffs out a breath. “The Oteran gods, if you can still call them that, have intentionally rendered you all ignorant.” She shakes her head as she turns to me. “I believe you still call it the Unknown Lands.”
“The continents that lie south of the Southern provinces—those Unknown Lands?” Li’s skepticism has returned. “The place where there’s untold wealth and glory if only you can reach it? Those Unknown Lands?”
“Indeed.” Myter inclines her head.
“No one who’s gone there has ever returned,” I say dryly, thinking of the hosts of stories devoted to the famous explorers who tried and were never seen again.
“And yet here I am, a creature who’s certainly neither human nor alaki, responding to the key on the necklace your mother left you. Your mother, who is the very reason you’re here on this island in the first place. Again,” Myter prompts in a long-suffering tone, “shall we go, or do you want to die here on some unknown, abandoned cliff so that the so-called gods of Otera can feast like vultures on what remains of your kelai?”
As I remain quiet, still thinking, I hear a hesitant whisper: “What about us?”
To my surprise, Nevra, who’s been huddled in a corner of the temple this entire time, is now staring at Myter, as are all the other children. “What happens to us?” the girl asks in that small, uncertain voice.
Myter turns to her and sighs. “I’ll give you two choices: I can take just you and your friends back to Maiwuri with us, or I can take all of you and your parents as well.”
Beside Nevra, Palitz, eyes wide, asks, “So you mean we can’t—”
“After what you’ve seen, I can’t let you return to your villages,” Myter says, shaking her head, “and even if I could, I doubt you’d be safe.”
When I step forward, alarmed at this declaration, Myter lifts a hand before turning back to the children. “Don’t worry, you’ll be welcome in Maiwuri. More welcome than you are here.”
“And you won’t hurt them?” I slip into the combat state as I ask Myter this question, paying close attention to the sound of her heartbeat, since I somehow can’t see any bit of her body under the armor she’s wearing. Something about it interferes with the combat state, prevents me from seeing the full truth that is Myter. All I can do is listen.
“Of course not!” Myter’s heart—well, hearts—don’t skip a beat, much less hasten the way I’ve learned all liars’ hearts do, as she says this.
“Why?” I ignore the fact that she has two hearts as I walk closer to her, head cocked in curiosity. “Why would you do that for children you don’t know?”
Myter considers Nevra and the others before she turns back to me. “Because they are children,” she says simply. “Children don’t deserve to be caught in the wars of the gods. I certainly didn’t.”
There’s a mournfulness in her voice now, a depth of emotion that tells me that no matter her appearance, no matter what her voice sounds like, Myter is certainly not a child, and likely hasn’t been one for a very long time.
She turns back to Nevra: “Well, what is your choice?”
Nevra thinks. Finally, she says, “I don’t know about the others, but I’d like my parents to go with you, please.”
“Mine too.” To my surprise, this response comes from Palitz, her voice small.
Then another girl: “Is there space for my family also?”
