I can help you, R’shiel.
How do you know my name?
All the gods know the name of the demon child.
Are you a god?
I am the only god. At least I will be, with your help.
She laughed sourly. With my help? Why would I want to help you?
Because I can ease your pain, R’shiel. I can take away the hurt.
Can you turn back time?
Of course not.
Then you can do nothing for me. Go away.
The voice did as she bid, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
The living part of R’shiel vaguely noted the changing scenery as the days grew shorter; saw the silver ribbon of the Glass River draw nearer. For some reason, the sight of the broad waterway sparked a brief reaction in her, as if the thought of crossing it would take her beyond redemption.
You fear crossing the river? the voice asked curiously.
I fear what it represents.
It brings you closer to me.
I can destroy you, Xaphista. Shouldn’t you be the one who fears my approach?
You need not destroy me, R’shiel. Together we would be invincible.
Together?
You would be my High Priestess. We could rule the world.
Suppose I don’t want to rule the world?
You are half human.
That doesn’t mean I crave an empire.
What do you crave, R’shiel?
Sanity.
Xaphista had no answer to that and it was a long time before he spoke to her again.
They crossed the river in a blustery, cold wind that chopped the mirror-like surface of the water into millions of glittering shards. The sun was high in a pale, cloudless sky, offering no warmth. R’shiel stood by the rail on the barge, oblivious to the cold spray that misted over her as the sailors hauled on the thick rope, pulling the barge across the river with grim determination. The current fought them at every turn. Although they professed to be atheists, the ferrymen muttered among themselves about the wrath of Maera, the River Goddess. They had never known a crossing like it. It was as though the Glass River was alive and determined to prevent them landing on the other side.
They made it eventually. R’shiel let Terbolt lead her onto dry ground and waited patiently for the rest of their party to disembark. The barge would be busy for two days or more, ferrying the remainder of the troops across. Aware of this, Terbolt commandeered the Heart and Hearth and settled in to wait. R’shiel paid no more attention to her surroundings at the inn than she had when they camped by the road each night on the journey here.
Garanus came to her at dinnertime and stood over her while she ate. When her meal was finished he sent the tray away and sat beside her. He did the same thing every night. He would talk to her as if she was listening, describing the power of the Overlord, preaching in a rasping, but impassioned voice that R’shiel found more irritating than comforting.
He pleads my case most eloquently.
He’s a nuisance. If you truly want to ease my pain, getting rid of Garanus would be a good start.
As you wish. Without warning, Garanus broke off mid-sentence and left the room. I would give you anything you asked for, R’shiel.
So long as I promise not to kill you, she added wryly.
That would be a reasonable expectation, don’t you think?
You can’t give me what I want, Xaphista.
I can give you anything. You have but to ask.
Free me, then. Take this collar from me. Let me feel the power again.
Ah! I’m not certain I trust you that much, demon child.
Then what do I need you for? You are the reason for my pain.
Not I, R’shiel. It is the Primal gods who want you to suffer.
The Primal gods created me.
And they live in fear of their creation. Who do you think allowed this to happen?
It is your followers who hold me prisoner.
For your protection, nothing more. The Primal gods have interfered in your life enough.
What are you talking about?
Can you be so blind, child? They wish to destroy me. Why do you think you were raised in the Citadel? No child raised by the Harshini could contemplate killing, even with human blood.
Brak seems to manage.
He is as much a creature of the Primal gods as you are.
Are you telling me the Primal gods made Joyhinia adopt me?
That’s exactly what I’m telling you. They picked the most ruthless, cold-hearted bitch they could find to raise you. How else could they ensure you had the skills to commit murder? They engineered your suffering, R’shiel. They have manipulated you since you were born.
You’re delusional, Xaphista, as well as power hungry.
It is you who are deluded. Do you think your love for Tarja is an accident? Or his for you? Of course not! Kalianah made it happen.
Why?
Just to make you suffer. Think what it has cost you. Loclon raped you because Tarja loves you.
The last time I looked, Loclon was on your side. He misjudged her badly if he thought that was going to persuade her to his cause.
You will see the truth eventually, demon child. I pray that it will not be too late.
He left her then, leaving R’shiel with a puzzling thought. Xaphista was a god. To whom did he pray?
They left Cauthside and continued their journey north the third day after the river crossing. Outwardly, R’shiel showed no more interest on this side of the river than she had on the other. Garanus no longer came to her each night to aid her conversion, but little else changed. She woke, she ate, she rode in the carriage, then ate and slept where she was told. The routine never varied; it was unlikely she would have noticed if it had.
Her retreat was no longer peaceful, though. Her silent haven had been disturbed by Xaphista’s poisonous logic.
Was she really just a pawn, manipulated since birth to become a weapon the Primal gods could use against their enemy? Was Tarja’s love for her simply imposed on him? Had the Primal gods sat back and let Loclon do what he had done to her, hoping it would toughen her up? The idea seemed ludicrous at first, but the longer she thought about it, the more credibility it gained.
And what of Xaphista? Was he really so evil? And who was she to judge what was evil anyway? Xaphista had hurt her, there was no denying that; her current predicament was entirely attributable to him, but he was fighting for his survival. Were his actions any worse than those of the Primal gods?
For the first time since retreating into herself, R’shiel began to hunger for release. It was no longer peaceful here. Memories she had no wish to confront began to plague her. Thoughts she had no wish to contemplate refused to go away.
You see? Everything you hold dear is a lie, Xaphista told her seductively. Tarja’s love is no more real than this place. The Harshini secretly despise you, else why would they let you leave Sanctuary? Even the Primal gods fear you. You are a weapon, R’shiel, to be aimed and pointed by whoever holds your heart in his hands. Don’t let them use you.