The two souls for the Sea God were not sitting restfully inside Mantis, and the torment of their unsettled stirring was starting to become overpowering. She wished she could have just dumped them at Ombira's feet, and dreaded the task ahead of her. But even more torturous than all that was her Goddess's push.
She'd been nudging Mantis more persistently with every passing breath, and there was a village right ahead to worsen the urge. The target awaiting her there baited and provoked her. She could almost smell him even if she could not see him or sense his aura at so large a distance. Ombira was not happy to see so much of Mantis's time spent doing another's bidding, and she was starting to grow impatient.
Perhaps she could bid the children to stay at the makeshift camp for a while and race ahead to appease her appetite. But she did not like the idea of leaving them alone. Could she bring them and just get it done quickly? The thought disgusted her. The girl should not be brought near the human garbage she hunted, exposed to the depravities of man. Mantis intended to demonstrate the ugliness of the Gods, and the Gods alone, to her. Only the predatory nature of the deities did she mean to teach her.
Mantis was crouching low and pouring water into her waterskin from the small metal pot where Rain had collected during the night. Her body was soaked, head to toe, from the night downpour, which was both good and bad news. The sensation was unpleasant at that moment, but she knew the damp clothing would keep her cool in the warmth of the day ahead as it slowly dried off. She deemed it a fair exchange. A low rummaging caught her attention, and the girl emerged from the tent's flap, still clad in the same simple commoner's garments she'd worn since they'd met.
"Good morning," Teela greeted her with a shy smile. "That's smart. I came out to see about collecting water, actually. We drank most of what I brought."
"I filled your waterskin, too."
"Oh!" Her eyes widened and she gave Mantis a long, appraising look. "Thank you very much, ma'am. That was not necessary, not at all. I'm very capable of–"
"My name is Mantis. And I said I would provide for you."
"Mantis. Well… thank you, then," she said and padded over to drink from the full waterskin Mantis had returned to the horse's saddlebag after refilling it during the night. She had not been able to sleep at all.
"Would it be all right if I went for a short walk?" Teela asked. Mantis turned abruptly to stare at her, startled by the unexpected question. She was standing by her grazing horse and affectionately rubbing down his flank. She looked a mess. Her shiny locks of black hair were bound back loosely but sleep had tousled a few stray pieces around her face, her simple brown linen dress looked worn and the white smock she wore underneath was, in fact, gray from wear. She had not brought any other clothes, Mantis knew. She wondered why her parents allowed her to look so disheveled.
"You want to go for a walk, here?" She signaled around them with a sweep of the arm. Apart from a few sparsely scattered tall trees and shrubbery, there was nothing at all to see.
"I just want to feel the world. I've never been so far from Pirn before."
She frowned at the girl, utterly confused. There was nothing of the world there, nothing to see or do. Mantis did not want to deny her such a trivial request, but her gut was telling her to look closer, to be wary of the person before her. Something felt off about the girl, and Mantis was afraid to admit to herself that it had started the day she'd killed her. Some quality stood out, peculiar and familiar, calling out to her in a way that she did and did not recognize.
"Go on, then. I will keep an eye on you." She stood as she spoke, and walked over to stand beside the child. Teela looked her up and down, a glint of annoyance in her eye, then breathed out a small sigh and started walking ahead. Mantis followed a few paces behind, like a cat creeping toward some detail that caught its attention.
The girl paced leisurely through the tall grasses, sometimes stopping to admire a wildflower or weed. Her dark brown eyes reflected a spark of warm caramel in the awakening light of the morning, and Mantis watched attentively as Teela's gaze lovingly caressed the pointed tips of the blades of grass, or the swaying branches of a common bush. It was strangely fascinating to Mantis, to observe another's behavior for the sole purpose of deciphering their intent, and trying to interpret their perception of so ordinary a sight. She could not look away. Teela seemed joyous, in peace, out there in the middle of gods damned nowhere.
"Why did you kill me?" she interrupted her trance abruptly.
"It was an accident."
Teela turned to look into her eyes, curiosity and ignorance plain on her face. "You were trying to kill the men behind me." She neither confirmed nor denied it. It had not been a question. "What was that you used? The black string. I recognized it, yesterday, on Leroh's throat. Is that a part of your body? From your God?"
Mantis raised her right hand in front of Teela's face and unfurled her pointer finger up toward the sky. She waited a moment for her to react, but the girl only ventured closer, absentmindedly, trying to get a better look at the tip of her finger. No instincts of self preservation or alarm appeared to warn her. Nothing inside Teela cautioned her against danger at all. Mantis frowned at her childish carelessness and pushed out the end of her link into the air above her raised hand, approximately a forearm's length, and wagged it smoothly in a practiced oscillating motion. The protruding fleshy strand originated in the center of her chest, extended through the length of her arm, and emerged from the slitted opening underneath the nail of her forefinger. A familiar tickle, like a flicked nerve, shot up her arm when the slick black limb snaked out into the open. Teela gasped, but still did not retreat. She possibly even drifted a smidge closer.
"They're links."
"Links?"
"To absorb a soul, when inserted in the heart."
The girl unpeeled her gaze from the serpentine waving at that, and met her eyes unflinchingly. Then, she had the courage to venture a guess. "Do you have one in your mouth?"
Mantis's body went rigid with outrage and disbelief. Had she no fear? No natural inclination to protect herself from a known danger? It was baffling and horrifying. The girl was good, guiltless, utterly new to a world full of monsters like a babe still suckling at the teat. But it could not be so. Her body was that of a woman's, and her mind clear and ripe with intelligence. She would remain soft and pure of heart only if she learned to recognize her gift for what it was, and its fragility. Mantis had made the correct decision in agreeing to bring her on this errand.
"The link in my mouth serves two purposes: to reach into the mouth and find the heart, or to suck out the brain and dark matter, usually through the eye socket."
Teela met her eyes, surprised at first. Then her expression contorted with revulsion. For a moment, she said nothing, and Mantis felt a familiar mixture of satisfaction and self-loathing to have succeeded at frightening her into silence. But then the girl continued her inquisition like she'd learned only a mildly disturbing truth. "Why? Is that the way of your Goddess?"
"Teela," She grew desperate. "It is the way of all Gods. They require our souls to live. It is what we exchange for the plentitude of nature, like a vicious cycle. They give us light, and warmth, and water, and food. They give us what we need to live, and we return the favor. But they are hungry, cruel beings. Our souls were not enough to satisfy them, and they decided to start consuming our minds, too. They want the memories, the knowledge, the essence of the human being. If they can, they consume it all. They lust for our flesh, all of them. Do you understand?"
Mantis was panting. A feeling of hopeless urgency had suddenly taken control of her body and invaded her mind like a fog. She needed, miserably, to get her point across. Nothing had felt more important, more vital, in her life.
But she had failed. Teela was staring past her now, a calculating look in her eye. She did not understand.
Mantis felt like tearing out her own heart with her bare hands as they started into their wandering stroll once again. She could not save her, she knew. The girl could not hear her wise warnings.
Warring torments fought for her attention inside her head and chest. The most recent distressing thought was at the forefront of her mind, but an evil mingling started to color it in with the same shade of compressing anxiety as the two Sea souls pushing for release within her chest, and the compulsion to ride ahead and claim her awaiting prize at the village nearby.
Was it worth it? The ever-revolving question popped into her mind with impeccable timing. Yes. Her role in this world was worth the suffering it brought upon her. All that she went through and longed to put an end to was a fair price to pay, she told herself. It was worth it.
"What is that?" Teela interrupted and dispersed her thoughts.
It felt as if she'd been doused with a bucket of water and awoken from a deep sleep. "What?"
"The chirping. A bird is hurt, I think."
What?
"There! It must have fallen from its nest in the storm!" Teela ran toward the shaded area under a large, tall tree a short distance away. Mantis followed, still somewhat dumbfounded. "It's a baby! Oh, you're all right. You're fine! See, your wings are not hurt. You'll be all right, little bird." As she spoke the soothing words, she picked up what looked like a young sparrow, a nestling, its feathers not yet fully sprouted. Half of its body was bare and light pink. It was such a delicate little thing, so breakable, so completely defenseless. The scrape of a fingernail, the lightest of pinches, even a gust of wind could end its weak existence. Its ugly little head somehow accommodated for an enormous beak, pinkish brown on the tip and bright yellow on the bulging sides. At this stage in its life, it depended entirely on the assistance of others to survive, and its body was designed to facilitate that process. To assure no parent could miss its desperate need for nutrition, the beak spanned over the width of its head, and opened impossibly wide at the barest hint of food, as occurred now.
"I will protect you. Don't worry, sweet one. I will look after you. You are too small to be here all alone."
As the girl hurriedly brought the creature back to their camp, Mantis watched and followed, wondering why her eyes had flooded with tears at the sight. She did not feel the need to mention that she could use one of her long links to put the baby bird back in its nest, which was visible on one of the lower branches of the tree. She did not want to explain to the girl that an animal so small and foreign to them was not likely to survive much longer, or that her ministrations, if untrained, would probably harm more than aid it.
She just wanted the child to have this one thing, just for now. She should be allowed this taste of joy, even if it would soon be lost to her, despite her knowledge.
Teela ran to their little campsite, all thoughts cleared from her head. The poor creature held securely in her cupped hands chirped and waggled faintly as if trying to escape, but she knew it would not live much longer without her help. Supplies would be necessary for its care, but Teela had not brought much of anything, if she was being completely honest with herself. Her only goal had been to escape from the suffocating environment, and the rest, she'd thought, she'd deal with later. There hadn't been any time to make plans, so she'd left with the clothes on her back and little else.
The little bird was probably cold, its body lacking the protection of feathers, and hungry, if it had not been fed since the day before. She would use the only cloth she could spare, a kitchen rag she'd wrapped the fresh fruit with, to arrange a makeshift nest. And the bread she'd packed could be used to feed it, if mixed with water and mashed into a paste. Perhaps.
"Is everything all right?" Leroh asked as he came out of the tent, eyes still sticky with sleep.
"Yes. I found a baby bird." The dirty old rag was still tied around the remaining apples, berries and peaches from her mother's kitchen. Teela struggled to untie the knot holding it all together and released a small sigh. The distressed animal needed food and warmth, in equal measure, quite urgently. The linen rag would have to do.
"What are you going to do with a bird, Teela?"
"Leave that. I'll make you a basket," Mantis said. She'd stalked at a slower pace back to camp and now stood motionless, observing her. Teela returned the look and raised an eyebrow.
"You'll make her a basket?" her brother asked, sounding even more shocked than she.
"Yes. You will find her insects."
"What?"
"Go catch some insects for the bird." Mantis ground out the words slowly and bore her unusual eyes into Leroh's. He looked back with confusion and outrage for a moment, then seemed to remember his own fear of the woman. Without saying another word, and only puffing out a short breath to reveal his opinion on the matter, he turned and walked away, head bent and eyes thoroughly searching the ground beneath his feet. He looked as disoriented as Teela had ever seen him. She felt similarly.
"You are going to make me a basket to put the bird in?" She could not help but ask for confirmation, still unsure that she'd understood correctly.
"That's what I said." The woman gave her a serious look and then crouched where she stood. Her graceful hands roamed the bright green blades of ordinary tall grasses and fixed upon the thicker, longer weeds that grew interspersed among them. She pulled out a handful of the sturdy-looking strands and sat beside her by the opening of the tent.
Teela could not decide where to focus her attention. The adorable creature had grown still in her hands, and now looked around with wide eyes, its tiny heart beating rapidly against her fingers. She had never held a bird before. The grip of its soft taloned feet on her palms and the fuzz of its sparse feathers felt unlike anything she'd ever experienced. It was a sensation she knew she'd cherish for the rest of her life. But an even rarer sight demanded her notice on her left side: Mantis was weaving a little basket out of the gathered weeds, her pale, slender fingers effortlessly working the improvised material into a tight, curved net. Teela's jaw hung ajar as she watched, entirely unable to determine her own emotions.
Too much information had been revealed, too many reactions awoken in too short a time. She was disturbed by what she'd learned about Mantis's duty to her forest God, and what she'd said about the cruel hunger of all deities. And yet her endless supply of questions had only seemed to grow larger from the knowledge. She could not fully believe what she'd heard of the Gods' disposition toward human life. It did not seem right to her, that the almighty beings who controlled a world as beautiful as theirs would prey on its grateful inhabitants so cruelly. How could such a thing be? At that very moment, Teela held a spark of magic between her hands. How could she be expected to believe that those who commanded the magical flow of life so enchantingly would abuse them so? It simply didn't ring right. Perhaps Mantis was wrong.
It was plain to see, to feel and taste and hear, that magic was good. Magic was life. It was lovely.
Her brother cleared his throat and approached the spot where they sat side by side. Mantis kept her eyes firmly locked on her work, which was coming along expertly. She'd woven a small nest in the shape of a deep bowl, and now focused on finishing it with what looked somewhat like a handle.
"Um, I found a beetle." Leroh held the wriggling creature between two fingers.
"Give it to Teela, and find more. We'll be traveling all day."
"You're joking," he let out with incredulity and uncharacteristic defiance. "This is ridiculous!" Leroh almost tossed the squirming insect into Teela's extended hand and threw up his hands in a gesture of exasperation.
Mantis only lifted her gaze to observe him from underneath the bushy cover of her black eyelashes. The expression on her face froze the blood in Teela's veins. She was angry, and something more. The emotions radiating off her almost seared the skin to be near. She'd thought the concerning emotion had begun with her impertinence, when she'd decided to join the woman against her will, but it only seemed to be getting worse as time went by. It did not feel like hostility against her or her brother per se, only burning pressure. Like a kettle boiling.
And her brother kept feeding that fire which already burned too hot without his assistance.
"I will do it," Teela said to him in a calming voice, hoping to appease the tension that had suddenly built between them. "When… Mantis is finished with the nest, I'll go. Besides, I was thinking I could feed it some bread–"
"No. You go," Mantis cut in and motioned to Leroh dismissively with a jerk of her head. "Now, little boy."
He stood unmoving for a long moment, frowning down at her. She had gone back to her craft and did not seem to notice his intense stare. When he finally gave up and left to obey her command, Teela followed him with concerned eyes.
Her brother had never been a clever man. He was temperamental and ignorant. And he did not love her. She felt very little attachment to him emotionally. And yet she did not enjoy seeing him treated with such needless antagonism and disregard. The woman's behavior puzzled her. And Leroh was afraid of her. Teela would have assumed that he'd go to any lengths to gain the approval of such an imposing person, but that did not appear to be the case. She pondered on that for a while.
The baby bird ate the beetle eagerly when she brought it to its beak with her right hand and cradled it against her chest with her left. He was an ugly little fellow. She decided to name him Homely.
Suddenly, Mantis rose and walked to her hobbled horse. Her clothing was very strange, Teela noticed. She wore a tight-fitting dark gray doublet made of a thick material she did not recognize, with flowing breeches in the same color on her lower half that reached down only to her knees. There, they met with a pair of tight, sturdy black boots. They were the clothes of a man, but somehow did not look that way on her. The garments fit her body naturally, as if they had been tailored to her every muscle. They probably had been, she realized. How had she not noticed that Mantis wore men's clothing before? Over her well-made doublet was fastened a discreet black leather baldric, and from it she pulled a short blade.
"What are you doing?" The question escaped her lips before she knew she was going to speak, but the woman acted as though she had not done so at all. Mantis approached her long-legged black stallion and raised her knife to cut off a lock of shiny hair from its mane in a smooth slicing motion, then shortly returned to where she'd been sitting by Teela's side.
The small woven basket rested on the ground. To it, she had attached two braided strips of grass that hung loose on opposing sides of the rim. She picked it up and carefully lined the inside with her horse's black hair. "There," she said, and held up the nest for Teela to place Homely into.
Speechless, she brought him over to Mantis's raised hands and deposited the baby bird into his cozy new cradle.
"It's perfect. Thank you." The words felt small for the kindness the stranger had shown her. Teela was not sure how to react to such unexpected behavior, and just sat there for a moment, staring dumbfoundedly.
Then, Mantis surprised her further by bringing Homely over to Teela's waist and using the two loose strands of braided grass to attach the little basket onto the loop of fabric on the side of her dress, previously used to secure her apron or waist tie. Teela looked down at the delicately crafted thing hanging atop her dingy old skirts and felt her mouth fall open. No words or thoughts came to her.
She usually found it quite easy to speak her mind. This time, she could not. Her head was blank.
A while later, her brother returned carrying a variety of crawling and slithering creatures. She delighted in feeding them to her new friend and, when he refused to take more, felt disgusted by Mantis's decision to crush the remaining insects into a paste on their leaf to be carried with them for later.
When the sun was high in the cloudless sky, they rode on. Mantis trotted ahead, hood raised to cover her face and shoulders hunched. She was experiencing some sort of extreme discomfort, and it grated on Teela's senses almost painfully. She briefly wondered if it would make it much worse to give in to her curiosity and ask her about it directly, and was disappointed when she concluded that it would.
Instead, she questioned her brother, who sat in front of her on Clover's saddle. "Who does she kill?"
"Shut up."
"She brought me back to life, so she doesn't kill just anyone."
"Be quiet, Teela."
"Rapists." Mantis called out to her from further ahead on the muddy dirt path.