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I shrug. “I don’t know why you assume I would.”
This reply seems to shock Myter. She glances pointedly to her left, where Lamin is suddenly visible, his path running parallel to mine. All my friends are visible now, all of them staring in wonder at Myter—all except for Lamin. He just gazes at her, and she back at him, silent messages seeming to fly between their eyes.
I frown, glancing from one to the other.
It’s as if Myter knows Lamin. Or, rather, that she expects something from him. Except that can’t be possible, because Lamin rarely speaks, and when he does, it’s only ever to our group. Even if it weren’t for that, he’s certainly never been to the Unknown Lands, much less met a creature like Myter, whatever she is.
I turn to him. “Lamin?”
To my surprise, my friend glances away.
“Lamin, what’s happening?”
When he doesn’t answer, Myter turns back to me with an annoyed sigh. “Every time I think this day surely cannot grow any worse, it does,” she says, almost as if she’s speaking to herself. Then she nods. “All right, pay close attention, Deka. A godsworn is a mortal who bonds themself to a god—”
“In sacrifice?” Belcalis asks suspiciously.
“—in partnership, to ensure that the deities understand those in their care. The godsworn act as intermediaries, allowing their chosen gods to experience the breadth and brevity of mortality through them, while they, in return, can spend time in contemplation of the Greater Divinity.”
Belcalis’s upper lip curls into a sneer. “So they’re the only path to understanding the gods. Wonder where I’ve heard that before.”
“No,” Myter says firmly. “There is no one path to the Greater Divinity, no one method that is better or more just. Becoming a godsworn is just one of countless possibilities. Every creature in every realm must find their own.”
“The Greater Divinity?” I still don’t understand exactly what the term means.
“The cosmos, which we all serve,” Myter explains.
“It is the natural and divine order.” To my surprise, this soft explanation comes from Lamin, who’s now glancing back to me with that guilty expression.
What exactly is happening?
Myter’s expression is downright exasperated now. “Do you know nothing, Deka?” she snaps.
“Well, no,” I reply, unable to contain my irritation any longer. “I’ve spent the past eighteen years being deceived, leeched on, and taken advantage of by the Oteran gods. So no, I know nothing of this Greater Divinity or this natural and divine order or anything else you’ve just nattered on about.”
Myter’s mouth opens, no doubt to make another brisk reply, but then the ground suddenly rumbles, a low warning sound. Myter’s eyes flash, as if she’s seeing something far away from us. I still, immediately recognizing that look. Myter’s speaking with Bala—even now, I can feel the peacefulness I associate with him radiating through the passageway’s fog.
Once the two are done speaking, Myter swiftly turns back to me and bows, her expression chastened. “My apologies, Angoro Deka. I forgot the difficulty of your circumstances.”
“Your apology will be accepted only if you tell me more about the godsworn,” I reply stiffly.
Myter nods. “The godsworn are representatives of the gods. At times even their protectors, like the ebiki that follows you, for instance.” She points at Ixa, who dutifully chirps, and my jaw drops.
“You know what Ixa is?” I ask, flabbergasted.
The Gilded Ones told me they’d created him as a gift for me, but that was another of their lies. They didn’t make Ixa—they didn’t even know where he came from, which is why he, unlike most beings, has been able to see through them from the very first moment.
“He’s an ebiki,” Myter replies. “They’re plentiful in the capital this time of year.”
A thousand questions are circling my mind, but I force myself to remain focused. “You said he was my godsworn? How is that possible? I’m not a god.”
“Not right now,” Myter corrects, “but you were once, and, Greater Divinity willing, you will be again. Now, Ixa—that is what you called him, yes?”
I nod.
“He is your primary at the moment, I assume.”
“There can be more than one?” asks Britta, who by now is fascinated. When she turns to us, her path slides closer, as do the others’. I thought that my friends would be in that fog the entire journey, but it seems they can control their roads if they choose—just as I can control mine.
