“Mother Sephine? What are you talking about, Gin?” Sath looked from side to side frantically but still saw nothing. “I don’t see her—or anyone.”
“You heard her, Sath, just like I did, in the bond.” Gin frowned. “Perhaps she hesitates to show herself because she is not sure of us?”
“Maybe I should wait here?” Sath said, only partially joking. The other voice behind Gin’s words was setting his fur on end.
“Absolutely not,” Gin replied tersely. “We stay together, Sath.” She looked up at him, and he was surprised to see so much fear in her eyes. Usually, he would be able to smell it. How did she do that? “I won’t lose you.”
“Of course not, Gin,” he replied, still watching her, considering her. “I will let you take the lead here. Sephine is your goddess.” Sath waited until she started walking to exhale, a shaky, rattling sound that got her attention.
“You okay back there?” For just a moment, it was only Gin’s voice asking.
“Sure, just fine,” he lied. All of his time as the Bane of the Forest could potentially be his undoing here. After all, this Sephine was a goddess—the goddess of all of the elves in the Great Forest. Sath, as a Qatu, had never really believed in the pantheon of deities that most of Orana worshipped. Still, he could not deny that there was something here now, something radiating and reverberating against his very skin. A humming sound filled his ears and mind as they drew closer. “Gin, wait…”
“What is it?”When she turned to face him, his breath caught in his throat. Perhaps it was the nearness to the goddess that she served without question or the raw power of creation that seemed to flow through everything around them suddenly, but Sath could not deny the difference in Gin. Her skin seemed to glow with an inner, golden light, and her eyes pierced his own ones as though her gaze was made of cut glass. Her lips were a rosy pink that he almost had to reach out and touch to make sure they were not actual petals from a flower. “Sath?”
“Gin…wow, I mean…you’re…” Sath fell to his knees as he stared at her. “I cannot go any closer, Gin. You have to go without me.” He wasn’t sure how, but Sath knew that if he set one foot too close to Sephine, All-Mother goddess and patron of druids and rangers born in the Great Forest, she would end him. Perhaps it was through his bond with Gin, though at the moment, he could not find even a trace of her hum in his mind. “I am sorry, but I cannot.”
“You must!” Gin tugged on his arm. “You must, because you must answer for what you have done…what you will do…she knows, Sath, but she offers mercy!” Sath stared at her quizzically as Gin’s voice seemed to take on a depth and reverberation that was not her own. When had their bond severed? “Ask for her forgiveness.”
“No.” Sath got to his feet. “I will not. She leads me to my death, using you to convince me, and I will not.” Gin turned on him, her hands planted firmly on her hips. Twin spotlights beamed from her eyes and settled on him, making him want to look away or shield his eyes, but he held her gaze. “I will not come any closer.” The light in Gin’s eyes faltered a moment, and Sath took that to mean that Gin was fighting the influence of the goddess. “She forgives, Gin, but she will not forget. I will not risk you being injured as a result of my presence.”
Gin rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, muttering in Elvish as she did. Sath could make out some of the words, but others seemed to be in an older dialect, like the one she used when she did spell work or when she spoke to the warrior at the log cabin. He took a step closer to her, considering her. He watched as she fisted her hands at her sides, her face overwrought with anguish and despair. It was as though she was having a battle with herself, or with someone that Sath could not see or hear. Suddenly she reached out for his hand and dragged him, surprised and off-balance, closer to her. He could see now a ripple in the air, like the rift in the time trap. Gin fell to her knees, face pressed into the ground. Sath fought to move back from the shimmering fracture, but couldn’t. He wasn’t able to run to escape—or to protect Gin from whatever was about to happen. He pounded on the ground with his fist in frustration before turning back to Gin, who was still prone on the ground. Sath scanned the area; the feel of the very air around them was different—changing. The landscape was changing—how was that possible?
Blooming trees were everywhere suddenly, and the grass under his feet—as soft as the finest carpets in the royal apartments in Qatu’anari—spread as far as he could see. It had to be an illusion. Animals darted and danced off in the distance. A glistening coal-black horse chased a white horse around trees and shrubs, nipping playfully at its companion’s haunches when it got close enough. Trees that seemed rooted occasionally came up out of the ground and moved a few feet before settling their roots back into the soil. Everything was alive, and the air practically pulsated with life and greenery and spring. Sath rubbed his eyes, expecting things to be back to normal when he opened them again. The scene remained the same.
“Kneel, Sath!” Gin hissed from her position still face down in the mossy grass. “She approaches, can’t you feel it?” Finding that he could move again, he came to Gin’s side and knelt down
