“You know your history well, Qatu?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Aye, every cub in the Royal Nursery has strict tutors,” Sath replied, his tone cool. He still did not trust the goddess, but he was trying to go along for Gin’s sake. “As the son of the Rajah, I had an especially…enthusiastic tutor.” He grimaced at the memory, growling low in his chest.
“So, you know a great deal of the Forest War?” Sephine asked, beaming a sparkling smile that melted a bit of Sath’s resolve. “You know how it ended?”
“Aye.”
“Then you know that if the Mother Dragon is allowed to leave this side of the world and return home, all will be lost—if she can find a way to restore her mate, she will repopulate the entirety of Orana with dragons at the expense of all others?” The goddess stared at Sath, making him look away from her crystalline eyes in discomfort. “I know that you both have a history with her and her brood that will be hard to overcome, but do you stand ready to do that? Can you, when it was you, my Nature Walker, that led her mate to his death?”
“Aye, but Gin will not apologize for that,” Sath rumbled, again meeting her gaze. “Nor will I apologize for taking Khujann instead of remaining at her side. I could not allow Taanyth to hurt my son or my…or Gin as he did.”
“You are saying we must reason with the Mother Dragon? With all due respect, Mother, have you lost your mind?”
Sephine smiled at Gin, though her expression urged caution. “Almost right, my Nature Walker,” she said. Her voice was warm, like a blanket wrapping around Gin’s shoulders. “You must find a way to stop the Mother Dragon. We must not allow her to release Taanyth from the Void.”
“How can he be released, Mother? He is dead. There is no return to the world of the living once a soul enters the Void.”
“Almost right again, my girl. It is possible—after all, the Void is my home, and yet I am here before you. Kaerinth intends to upend the rules of our world and channel the power of one of my contemporaries to bring back her mate. While I cannot intervene directly, I can guide my children along the path to defeat her. I will take you two to meet the one that can help you—the one that Kaerinth had no intention of allowing you to reach—Omerith, the La’al Drygyr, the creator of the Guardians. But he must not know that any help came from me, do you understand?”
Sath scoffed. “Just how are we supposed to stroll up to the red dragon and ask for anything? ‘Here you are, sir, never mind who sent us, just help us defeat your mother, there you go.’ Are you mad?”
Sephine scowled at Sath. “There is much riding on this, Rajah, including the life of your son, or have you forgotten him? What will happen to Prince Khujann—and indeed, the rest of the Qatu—if Kaerinth returns?” Sath dropped his gaze to the ground. “I know it will not be easy, but I have faith in you. I will help you as much as I can.”
“Will you restore my magic?” Gin asked, hopefully. “I fear that the Mother Dragon has cursed this land as she did Bellesea Palace and the Western Tower so that my magic does not work as it should here.”
“Yes, that I can do,” Sephine said, placing her willowy fingers on either side of Gin’s face. Warmth and light spread out from her palms and covered Gin from head to toe. Gin grimaced, and Sath rushed toward them, stopping only when Gin held out her hands.
“Stop, Qatu,” Gin said with Sephine’s voice. “I am not hurting her. I am restoring her. You will remain where you are.” Sath stopped in his tracks, not breaking eye contact with Gin. Her eyes were wracked with pain for a moment, and then clear and bright…and happy. She smiled at him. “I’m all right, Sath,” she said, her voice her own again.
Sephine turned her head toward Sath, and as she spoke, her eyes blazed. “It pained us to see the betrayal of the Rajah Qa Kahzlir, your father, Sathlir. He spent a long time trying to go it alone, and we were so pleased when he finally noticed your mother. She was the balance he needed—just as you and Gin are each other’s balance. You must hear that and know it to be true. Though your people do not worship any of us, we still watch over you as we do all the races of Orana, and love you as though you are our own children.”
Sath met the goddess’s gaze and beamed a toothy grin at her. “My father and I may not have been friends when he was alive, but he was a good and fair ruler for the most part. I appreciate your words, Sephine.”
“You will wait here for me while I retrieve something that will help you gain an audience with Omerith,” the goddess said, not waiting for an answer as she evaporated into thin air in front of them. Sath felt a tiny hand touch his arm, and he looked down at her with concern.
“Are you all right?” he whispered. “Truly, Gin, did she hurt you? I thought…”
Gin looked up at him. “Of course,” she said. “Sath, I trust the All-Mother, she wouldn’t hurt me.” She smiled, and Sath felt that his heart would burst from his chest. “Always here to protect me, aren’t you?” she said, kissing him on the nose. Sath blushed to the roots of his fur. “I’m just sorry that we can’t…I mean, I can’t be…I mean…”
“Don’t.” Sath shushed her with a finger carefully placed on her lips. “We will have time to work all of that out.”
“Perhaps I can be of help with
