“Brother, the Children of the Beyond World need us,” she said. “Will you help me to help them?”
“Sister, I cannot do as you ask,” Ufashwe replied, his voice as soft as a rainy-season breeze.
“And, as you well know, you cannot do as you wish with the People of Beyond,” he continued. “So it is better not to wish it at all.”
Nama-kwah looked at him with eyes that were filled with the tears of the sea.
“But they need us, Brother,” she insisted.
They addressed each other as Brother and Sister because all the Jagasti – even the despicable Legaba – were siblings, spawned at the same time in the same womb located in the fecund center of the Worlds-Beyond-the-Realms. The people of the Beyond World of Abengoni had emerged from an entirely different womb; they were not of their deities’ creation. Still, the Jagasti had adopted them after they heard Etiya’s song, and nurtured them until ....
“Remember what our ‘help’ has done to them in the past, Sister,” Ufashwe said implacably.
Nama-kwah turned away from his unblinking gaze. Her memory of the calamitous Storm Wars was as fresh as though it had happened only recently rather than centuries in the past.
“Legaba will destroy them,” Nama-kwah said.
“Legaba is, and has always been, a fool,” Ufashwe returned. “And so are those who blindly worship him.”
Nama-kwah did not have to give voice to her agreement with Ufashwe’s opinion. For after the Storm Wars had come close to ending the world they had fostered, the Jagasti had agreed to keep their interventions to a minimum, and never again bestow power that could be misused.
All ... except Legaba.
Legaba had become too similar to the people who paid him obeisance and reveled in his power. The Spider-God’s adherents had desired domination over their fellow humans; Legaba craved similar ascendance over his fellow Jagasti. The pact the others had made had contained Legaba’s ambitions, and reduced his capacity for mischief. But he could not be suppressed entirely.
In the end, an approximate equilibrium had prevailed for centuries. Legaba could trifle with the Uloans, influencing and manipulating them as he desired. But the scope of his sway would be confined to the Islanders alone. The rest of the Jagasti would refrain from interaction beyond a proscribed level with the Matile. Nama-kwah and a few others had come close to that limit on several occasions. Except for participation in Callings and other rituals, Ufashwe had confined himself to his own Realm, as did the majority of the other Jagasti.
Now, that equilibrium had been broken. Legaba was once again seeking supremacy in the Beyond World. And a new deity, who was not of the Jagasti, had come to the Matile.
Ufashwe gave no indication that he had contemplated the coming of the foreign god, whose name was Almovaar. But Nama-kwah had. So had the other deities, and the Wind God had as well after the Jagasti had communicated throughout their Realms and decided how they were going to respond to the advent of the new god and the reawakening of Legaba’s senseless aspirations.
And they had decided to do ... nothing.
Legaba’s latest design for dominance would be countered by the coming of the new god. The Jagasti had scrutinized Almovaar from afar since the time they discovered his presence in the Beyond World. His strength was formidable; he had been able to shield himself from their attempts to deeply probe him and his Realm. Still, they had learned enough about him to realize that he was more than capable of thwarting Legaba’s schemes.
Thus, most of the Jagasti had chosen to end even their minimal involvement with the Beyond World. The Matile were free to embrace another god. The Jagasti, in turn, were free to create their own Children in their own Realms, and be satisfied with their complaisant behavior, which was so different from the obstreperousness and unpredictability of the mortals.
The Jagasti were not as one in their thinking. Even so, those who disagreed with the majority still agreed to comply with the majority’s wishes. All – except Nama-kwah. The Sea Goddess found herself unwilling – or unable – to accept the ultimate abandonment of the Matile, even though she alone was powerless to forestall it.
She spoke of her misgivings to Ufashwe.
“I do not trust this new god,” she said. “We should be the ones to contain Legaba, not him.”
“Nevertheless, the Children of the Beyond World have chosen him,” Ufashwe said.
“But only because we have given them no alternative,” Nama-kwah responded. “They did not abandon us; we abandoned them.”
Her sharp tone created an eddy of tension between them, and the Children of Ufashwe wavered in their flight alongside the two Jagasti. The heads of the birds cocked toward the deities, and sounds of distress emanated from their beaks. Ufashwe and Nama-kwah flew on in a silence that was finally broken by the Wind God. Before he spoke, he swept his cloud-wings in a gesture that took in half the sky.
“This is where we belong, Sister,” he said. “Our Realms are of our own making. And so are our Children. Let the Beyond People have their new god. And let us have our peace.”
“I fear for what will happen to them, Brother,” Nama-kwah said.
“They are no longer our concern, Sister,” said Ufashwe.
The finality of his tone precluded any further discussion. Nama-kwah knew she could never convince Ufashwe to join her in another intervention into the World Beyond. And if he, to whom she was closest, remained indifferent to her entreaties, so, too, would the others.
Deep within, she understood him. Had she not developed such a close bond with her Vessel, Tiyana, Nama-kwah might have shared Ufashwe’s lack of concern. Like him, she would have been satisfied to relegate herself to her Realm, among her Children. She could not completely surrender her fondness for her soon-to-be former worshippers. But she could not help them, either.
She reached out her hand to Ufashwe to signal the end of their
