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“I may be diminished,” Okot says, as if catching my thoughts, “but I still have enough strength to hold you, to keep you here forever.” His eyes glitter with the force of a thousand dying stars, a testament to his power.
I swiftly look away, unnerved. “It was you, wasn’t it?” I hiss. “You took Mother’s memories!”
“Indeed. I took every trace of her from this house. You won’t find what you’re looking for here.”
His words send a chill through me. So he knows exactly why we’re here.
“Why?” I ask. “Why are you doing this? What do you want?”
If it was my death, he’d have already sent me back to his temple via a door.
Okot moves closer so suddenly, we’re face to face before I can even blink. I glance away again as a small thunderstorm suddenly lashes against me, a thunderstorm that I know his anger has unconsciously created. Like all gods, Okot manifests his emotions in all sorts of strange and unpredictable ways.
“Anok has been imprisoned by our sisters,” he announces, his voice reverberating through my body. “They’re draining her. Siphoning away all the sustenance from her being. It’s only a matter of time now before she dissipates.”
“As do you as well.” Now I understand.
Like all the Oteran god pairs, Anok and Okot are connected. Two sides of one coin. What happens to one will eventually happen to the other. If Anok is being drained by her imprisonment, Okot is as well, which means it’s only a matter of time before the other Idugu turn on him.
The Oteran gods are like birds of prey: the slightest sign of weakness and they strike, even against their own.
Okot inclines his head, agreeing with my assessment. “Indeed. If the gods fall, Anok and I will be the first to do so. And even if they do not, we’re both still vulnerable. Which is why I’ve come to offer you a deal.”
“An’ why would we ever believe anythin’ ye say?” Britta hisses, braving a step forward.
One glance from Okot and she’s frozen in place. “We?” he repeats softly. “There is no we, Britta of Golma. Any offer I make is for Deka and Deka alone. It does not include you.”
“Then it is not an offer I would ever consider,” I reply, my will turning to iron.
Every time I’m tempted to forget that the gods view mortals—even semi-immortals—as less than insects, I’m swiftly reminded of the fact.
Okot can threaten me all he wants, even try to manipulate me the way all the other gods do. But I will not allow him to touch Britta, nor any of my other companions. I close my eyes, sinking deeper into the combat state. If I can just connect to the Greater Divinity…If I can just enhance my power a little…
When I try to inhale the primal force, Okot abruptly glides back, a cloud forming around his brow. Whatever emotion it’s expressing is not one I can readily identify. Not that I care to. Now that I’m deeper in the combat state, I can see that the vise Okot wrapped around me is loosening, perhaps due to his inattention.
“It seems I have erred,” the god says, almost to himself. “Your bonds to these…mortals are much stronger than I knew.”
“Stronger than you can ever imagine,” I snap, still stealthily inhaling. I’m not yet able to connect to the Greater Divinity, but if I keep trying, it’s only a matter of time. The vise is loosening every second. All I need is a few moments more…
“But then, your kind don’t understand what it is to love,” I snarl, trying to keep him talking.
“And yet I love Anok.” As I still, startled by this sudden confession, Okot cocks his head, a strangely human gesture. “I despise her in equal measure, given how she betrayed me, but I love her still. I love her even though she betrayed me.”
When the Gilded Ones locked the Idugu behind the veil that became their prison, Okot, the only of his brothers who had not played with human lives, begged Anok to free him. I saw that moment when I used the blood on my knife to peer into the gods’ memories. I also saw how she declined and left him in that prison, believing, as her sisters did, that he was too volatile to be trusted.
That’s why Okot is always so angry. Of all the Idugu, he’s the only one who, initially, did not deserve the fate that befell him.
That has, of course, long changed. Okot is now just as guilty as his brothers, if not more so.
His eyes try to pierce mine, but I steadfastly look away. “The emotions,” he says, sounding almost confused. “I cannot untangle them, and I do not know why.”
I humph. “Because she’s you,” I reply bluntly. “What greater narcissism is there than in loving and hating your own self?”
“And yet, because she is also herself,” Okot replies, almost wonderingly. “Together or apart, Anok and I…we are…”
“I’m not here to hear about you and Anok,” I snap, pushing steadily against the vise. It’s nearly loose enough to break free of now. If I can just get a little bit freer, touch that thread of divinity that’s just out of reach…
“Indeed.”
