Fate of the Gods 01 - Forged by Fate (36 page)

“I think I can find a way.”

She felt him watching her again. “You feel them, don’t you?”

She nodded, and looked up at him. “I don’t want to force them to do anything. But maybe I can find a way to ask them?”

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” His expression was serious.

“I’ll be careful,” she agreed.

He sighed and looked away, out at the grass and the bushes. She felt the conflict in his thoughts, between asking her not to, and encouraging her to do more. He looked back at her face, and his eyes searched hers.

“If I can do it, Reu, there’s no reason Adam can’t.”

His eyes darkened and his mind cleared. He nodded. “Tell me how to help.”

Chapter Thirty-three: 172 BC

Thor bowed respectfully to the immense statue of a seated god, hewn from the rock. The stone scraped as the massive head inclined.

The god was everywhere in his lands as Brahman, taking many forms, but it was only respectful to address him in a manner which allowed response. Bhagavan had been the first to join Ra in the world, and between them, they had created the Covenant, by which every god was now bound. Every god but Elohim’s twins, Adam and Eve.

“Bhagavan-Shiva,” Thor said, “I beg your forgiveness and your indulgence for my intrusion, and thank you for allowing my passage.”

One massive arm stretched out, grinding rock against rock, acknowledgment and invitation both. Thor bowed again, and entered the temple.

The dampness of the jungle around them brought sweat to his brow, but the temple was cooler, if not dryer. Thor followed the path of recently trampled vines, and unlike his last visit, it led him upwards. Crumbling staircases seemed held together by vegetation, and Thor had no choice but to trust that Bhagavan would not let him fall.

He had visited the god before, of course, while journeying for Odin, and found Bhagavan to be a most understanding and excellent host. But this trip was different, made for Eve’s sake, and he hoped, without the knowledge of his father. This far east, and shrouded in the veil of the jungle, itself a part of Bhagavan’s power so near to the temple, Odin would have difficulty seeing them, even from Hlidskjalf.

At last the corridor led into a large room, with wide, open windows, and Thor bowed again to the gods already present. Ra and Athena, of course, but also a second statue, this one of blue-skinned and four-armed Vishnu, the most omniscient of Bhagavan’s aspects, and beside the stone figure stood elephant-headed Ganesha, the most wise, in the flesh.

“Thor of the North,” Buddha greeted him, returning his bow. “It is a great honor to meet you at last.”

“The honor is mine, Siddhartha.” None of the western gods were certain where Buddha had come from. Some called him an Avatar of Vishnu, merely another aspect of Bhagavan himself, but Thor was not so certain. He did not have the same flavor within his aura as Ganesha and the others Thor had met. “Rarely have I heard of a god spoken of so highly by so many.”

“Then you have not heard how the others in this world speak of you, Odin-son,” Buddha replied with a serene smile. “Bhagavan-Shiva begs your forgiveness for not meeting you as well, but I am certain you will be satisfied by Ganesha’s counsel. His decision will be binding for all of the Brahman.”

Thor nodded to the Elephant-headed god. Ganesha’s supple trunk curled, his ears flapping idly in something like a smile, judging by the god’s eyes.

“If it would not be too much trouble,” Thor said, avoiding Athena’s eyes, “might I see her?”

“Ra suggested you might wish it.” Ganesha’s ears flapped again, and he gestured toward the windows. His voice was deep and brassy yet, oddly distant. “I have, ah, removed the obstacles between you, in a sense. The windows look out upon the village, rather than the temple grounds. You must forgive me for not offering more, but it is safer for everyone this way.”

Thor crossed the room, finding a lush river where the courtyard should have stood, and a village set back upon its bank. The scaled back of a crocodile surfaced in the water, green-gold eyes slitted as it searched for prey. The children played far enough back to be safe, dogs chasing them with wagging tails. A girl’s voice rose in a curse as a monkey darted off into the trees, some prize caught to its breast. Thor smiled. It seemed a peaceful place, thieving monkeys or not.

“We have your vow, then,” Ra said, behind him. They had not the time to wait for him to look his fill. A gathering of gods such as theirs would not go unnoticed if they lingered, if not by Odin, then another, and few gods were known for their ability to keep a secret. “As long as she remains within your lands, you will keep her from harm?”

“We have no reason to do her harm, and every reason to wish her peace,” Buddha said. “She is safe here.”

“And among the Brahman as well,” Ganesha agreed. “But if the Council moves for her death, even Bhagavan cannot protect her for long.”

A woman knelt by the water, skin like cinnamon and hair like ink. She bent to draw water, dipping a large earthen jug into the river. The crocodile’s tail twitched and it submerged, invisible while it hunted. Just as Odin had shielded his own motives, holding Thor out as proof of his good will and claiming the Trickster acted alone. Had he always? Thor could not be certain, looking back, but he knew what Odin wanted, now. His father would call for Eve’s death.

“Then we must stall the Council,” Athena said. “Even under the best of circumstances, it might take a century, but the longer it waits, the less urgency they will muster. By the time all the gods have been gathered, Loki’s work could be undone. And there is still the question of their godhead to be decided before any judgment is passed.”

From the vantage of the window, Thor could see the barest ripple of the water where the crocodile lurked. The woman only hummed to herself, seeming unconcerned, even careless. He gripped the windowsill, stone crumbling beneath his fingers.

“Better for Loki and Sif if she were not recognized, but calling the Council at all works against their cause.” Ganesha said. “They might have acted first, claiming ignorance, and begged forgiveness later. Now they will be bound by the outcome, and with the Trickster’s silver tongue silenced, we might work our own wiles.”

The beast sped forward, intent now on its prey. A hoarse call of warning broke from Thor’s throat, and her head turned, away from the river. A soft line formed between her eyebrows as she searched the trees with emerald eyes, her body still bent over the water, in easy reach. Too close.

The crocodile lunged, maw gaping, and she sat back, the jug of water slowing her response. Its jaws snapped shut with a crack, and then…

“Aphrodite might help, even if Hermes sides with Loki,” Athena said, coming to stand beside him. She snorted at what she saw and turned away, back to the others. “Together, we will speak to Zeus.”

Laughter floated on the wind, clear and sweet and joyful. Eve stroked the crocodile’s nose, leaned down and kissed its leathery snout.

Thor forced himself to relax, and let go of the static that filled the air around him. Of course she was fine. No living thing of this earth would do her harm. Not truly. And even if it had wounded her by some strange chance, she would have healed quickly. She always healed quickly. He should have known better than to worry. Even in the most deadly of circumstances, Eve survived. Unfortunately, the same could also be said for Adam.

“But what will they say?” Buddha asked. “Speaking against her death is not enough; we must argue for her life, some purpose she fulfills in the world—she must serve it somehow.”

The other gods fell silent, and Thor became aware of their scrutiny, the weight of their gazes upon his back. He shook his head and did not take his eyes from Eve.

“Eve could not tell me her purpose,” he admitted. The crocodile had sunk back beneath the water and slithered away. Eve had turned again, staring into the trees, into his own eyes, though he knew she could not see him. “Adam hid it from her, and Elohim fell into his slumber before she might ask.”

But there was a pattern, he knew, which spoke of something more than bloodline and chance. Elohim would not have risked the godchild for nothing, and even if Thor knew little else, he knew what she had given him, and seen that gift spread, rippling out and flowing over an entire village, bringing them peace and joy and happiness. Looking into her eyes, he longed for that peace again, ached to hold her in his arms.

He had nothing left in Asgard, but he was still tied to the North. If he appeared to her now, offered her his love and a home, what would she think? He was not certain she thought of him at all, anymore, but for when he used those memories to soothe her. And she could never be happy in Asgard, torn from the earth, from her people and her family, from whatever purpose she was meant to fulfill, besides love. Even if he were wrong about her happiness, Sif would never give her peace.

What is it?
Athena asked, touching his hand.
What do you not say?

He forced himself to turn, tearing his gaze from Eve, though it had been near a thousand years since he had met her eyes. Now was not the time to reveal himself, with Loki and Sif spreading lies about how Eve might respond.

“She is Elohim’s love,” he said, glancing briefly at Ra. Thor thought for a moment he saw the old god’s lips twitch, a smile quickly repressed, but he could not understand why. “I am not certain the argument will give much peace to those afraid of being cast out into the void, but I know she brings love to every land where she is born. It is very much like Divine Grace. A blessing to renew her people.”

Buddha smiled, even as Athena’s hand fell away. Thor watched her, guilt and grief squeezing his heart.
Forgive me, Athena.

She shook her head.
Only tell me it was not just for the nimbus of her grace and love that you came to Olympus so frequently while she lived among us.

He straightened, catching her by the arm. That she might think it—but he could not blame her for fearing he had used her, knowing her family. Aphrodite and Ares would think nothing of cultivating another god simply to have their way.

“We are friends, Athena.” He kept his voice low, but firm. Ganesha and Buddha did not speak, but it was clear they communed, their faces turned to Vishnu’s stone form. “Even for Eve I would not suffer through so many feasts upon Olympus. I came for the pleasure of your company, and you need never doubt it.”

She smiled sadly. “I am ashamed for thinking otherwise, even for a moment.”
Seeing the way you look on her… I thought for many years I was above my sisters, my queen, that I had escaped the pettiness of their temperaments, but when it comes to you, I am as jealous as Hera.

But unlike Hera, you do not let your jealousy rule you.
He squeezed her hand and let her go.
It is a very great difference, Athena, and one which sets you very much apart.

“We have decided,” Ganesha announced, his long trunk curling up to his broad forehead. “The Brahman will assist as we may and Bhagavan himself will delay this assembly. If Eve is indeed Elohim’s Grace, we dare not risk her loss. Without Grace, the world will wither, and its people will fail, just as surely as if the godchild unmade it.”

Ra bowed, relief more than evident in his features. “Then we must leave you. I fear we have already lingered too long.”

Thor hesitated, casting one last look out the window. Eve balanced the water jug upon her head as if she had done so a hundred thousand times before, and made her way back to the village.

“Come, Thor,” Athena said gently. “You will see her again. And if we succeed, perhaps one day she will even know you, again, too.”

He let her draw him away and bowed farewell to Vishnu’s form, thanking Buddha and Ganesha for their time, for Eve’s protection. They left the temple together, Athena’s hand firm upon his arm. As if she knew how much he wished to turn back, to take himself to Eve.

“Spend this night in Olympus,” she said when they stood again beneath Shiva’s stone gaze. “Let us offer you at least that small comfort.”

“Better if my father sees me hollow-eyed and heartsick.” He covered her hand with his, then brought it to his lips. “Perhaps he will choose to see it as remorse. And I must try to reason with him, Athena. The Aesir have too much influence to do otherwise.”

She shook her head, catching his hand in both of hers and pressing it tightly between them. “It is not the Aesir who have influence, Thor. No matter what your father decides, no matter what he says in the Council meeting, it will be your words that hold sway. You are the god they know, the god they trust. Not Odin.”

“If I speak against him so openly, there will be no healing the breach.”

Athena let him go and stepped back. “I cannot help you decide how far you are willing to go to protect her, Thor. I can only say that if Odin has lost your loyalty, the fault is most assuredly his own. And if he acts unwisely now, unreasonably, he does not deserve your support.”

He watched her open her arms, thick with feathers, and shake them into wings. With another breath, she was all owl, and lifted herself up into the trees, and then the sky, leaving him behind.