“So we’re looking for Khaemezra?” Talea pursed her lips as she gazed at the palatial halls of the Land of Peace.
Its appearance hadn’t changed since the last time they’d visited—which had only been a day. Some indefinable quality about the place made it seem quieter. Like the dying hours of a party, when all the sensible people have already gone home and those who remain are either passed out or marshaling their strength for one more round.
“Yes,” Xivan said. “The real one and not this shadow.” She gave the old woman a dirty look, which was ignored. “I know we don’t have much time, so let’s hurry.” The problem was that there was no way of knowing if Khaemezra had stayed in the main ballroom where Teraeth had found her or if she was elsewhere wandering through the palace.
She grabbed Talea’s hand, then paused and let go of her.
“What is it?” Talea said.
“You lead,” Xivan said. “Just go wherever your feet take you. I’ll follow.”
They found Khaemezra in the first place they looked. To be more accurate, they found Khaemezra on the way to the first place Talea had intended to look, in one of the gardens on their way to the main ballroom. She appeared in her dark-skinned voramer form, sitting by a fountain, one leg hanging over the lip of the pool. She seemed like she was about five seconds from going for a swim. The scene deserved a painting, something portraying a wistful young woman gazing off at nothing, contemplating her future.
Or lack of one.
Khaemezra turned her head. “Do you need something, or are you just—” She paused as she focused on Xivan for the first time. “You.”
Xivan didn’t know what had given her away. Possibly nothing. Likely all dead souls knew when they were in the presence of the Goddess of Death. Whatever the reason, Khaemezra had somehow known that she was staring at her successor.
“I need your help,” Xivan said.
Khaemezra opened her mouth. Xivan quickly added, “And I’m willing to make you a deal for it.”
The woman leaned away from Xivan, wariness sharp in her posture. “I’m listening.”
“That thing that angels do. You know how you make it so they automatically come back to life after they die? How do you do that? Does it just happen automatically to anyone who becomes an angel, or do you have to do something special?”
Talea gave Xivan a sharp look, while Khaemezra’s eyes closed to slits. It made her look less like someone who was suspicious or displeased than like a very satisfied cat, lounging after a meal.
Khaemezra splashed water in tiny little waves as she moved her toes through the water. “Ah, that. We developed it for exactly the same reason I assume you’re asking about it, but it doesn’t work. Even if it can heal or re-create the entire body”—she met Xivan’s stare as she shook her head—“it won’t be as good as what Galava herself might have done in person. It can’t bring back a Guardian.”
Xivan sighed. She would love to rip the woman to shreds over her presumption, but that would have to wait until she wasn’t in a position to childishly hold back on vital information. “It’s fine if it won’t work on Guardians. I don’t want to use it on Guardians, anyway.”
“Oh.” Khaemezra’s brows drew together. She looked past Xivan to Talea. After a moment, she grunted and rose to her feet. “You’ve got to be Taja. I swear I don’t know how that woman managed to find someone with the same smile, but she did it. Anyway, follow me. I’ll show you. I assume you’re in a rush.”
Khaemezra led Xivan and Talea into a large room filled with tiers and tiers of waterfalls. Waterfalls set into the walls and pouring from impossible places along the ceiling or sometimes midair. Most of the waterfalls had dark bands set across them at regular lengths. Xivan leaned forward to study one and saw that someone had used magic to mark a name across the width. It flowed and smudged as the water moved past it, giving off the impression that it was a different kind of liquid, trapped.
There were a great many waterfalls, and a great many names on each.
“Argas built it,” Khaemezra said. “With help from Galava and me, of course. Tya helped a little too. After it was built, well. It didn’t work quite the way we wanted it to, but it had its uses. The others could give me the names of their most trusted servants, and I would write those names down here to form the link. And the next time that person died, they would be resurrected. It’s not perfect, but it did the job. For anyone who isn’t a Guardian.”
“You mentioned,” Xivan said.
Khaemezra scoffed. “It can’t overcome the environmental hazards of the location where you died. If you were thrown into a forge so that your entire body burned to ash, you’d find yourself resurrected only to burn to ash a second time. If a non-voramer were chained to a weight at the bottom of the ocean, they’d simply drown again. Once a person dies, their name is washed away, and they have to be added again.”
Xivan paused. “It can remake a body? Entirely?”
Khaemezra was less impressed, probably because she hadn’t previously been in a place to benefit. “Yes, but does it? Consider that bodies are difficult to destroy that quickly. Anything that might manage such a feat will likely still be there when the person Returns. Ready to kill them again. It’s no great favor under those circumstances.”
The former goddess motioned toward the back walls. “All those waterfalls once held the names of angels, and with every death, the names empty one by one. They have no idea that their next deaths will be their last.” She sounded genuinely heartbroken about that idea. “I can’t add them anymore. Only you can.”
Xivan might have been more sympathetic except for the part where, at least in the case of Thaena’s angels, they were referring to assassins. She had no illusions about her own morality, but she suspected that killing people for money, no matter how she justified it, just might have been the point where Khaemezra started to diverge from her role as a sworn guardian of humanity.
“What are we doing here?” Talea whispered the question as if she were in a church.
The room did feel oddly church-like. “Just one more ditch for us to hide in, my love. And hopefully we won’t need it.” She glanced over at Khaemezra. “Relos Var has a way to strip the Eight Immortals of their powers.” She held up a hand as Khaemezra started to protest. “He does. And since we don’t have full access to our powers yet, it’s exactly like you said: we’re not in a good position to stop him if he tries. But if he kills us, or he steals our powers and kills us, or kills us and steals our powers—however that works—then your waterfalls will kick in. Which means we can Return to the Living World one more time.”
“But not as Guardians,” Khaemezra warned.
“But still alive,” Xivan pressed.
Khaemezra looked thoughtful as she splashed water. “Yes, fine. I see no reason why that wouldn’t work. You’ll be able to Return the others.” The corner of her mouth quirked.
Something in the way she said those words caught at Xivan, ripped a bright, sharp line across the back of her mind.
“I’ll be able to return the others,” Xivan repeated.
Khaemezra hadn’t said that Xivan would be able to Return herself.
The voramer woman grinned in a manner more shark than human. “It’s the nature of the connection. The first link has to be made to the world you’re pushing the soul back into. That means every person you write down on this list has to be in the First World when you do it. If you try to add her name right now”—she pointed to Talea—“nothing will happen. You’ll waste the effort.”
“Which means I can’t add myself,” Xivan murmured. Oh, the black humor of it was just delightful. Death couldn’t resurrect herself.
“I told you it won’t work on the Immortals,” Khaemezra snapped.
Xivan’s eyes began to sting. She angrily blinked back any tears and lifted her head, glaring. “And I told you that I wasn’t planning on using it on any. This was a worst-case contingency if Relos Var actually fucking wins—or at least succeeds in de-ascending the Eight.”
“If he does that, he wins,” Khaemezra countered.
“Don’t be so sure,” Xivan said.
Khaemezra scoffed. “Well, if you’re not gods at the time, then it should work fine—for everyone but you,” she said to Xivan.
“No, no, no,” Talea said. “She can’t add her own name? Not a problem. I’ll add her name. She can add mine and everyone else’s. We’ll cover for each other.”
Khaemezra laughed. “No. The Goddess of Death can add names. You cannot.”
Talea’s expression turned very still.
“It’s fine, Talea,” Xivan said and took the younger woman’s arm.
Talea pushed her away. “Under what definition? How is that fine?”
“Because us dying is not part of the plan, right?” Xivan tried again, this time gently sliding her hands along the outside of the other woman’s arms. “Relos Var won’t even know the Eight can be replaced until he finishes that ritual of his and nothing happens. Then he’ll have no easy way to find out who the new Eight are. It’s unlikely that any of this will be necessary. I’m just providing a contingency. I’ll feel better knowing that no matter what happens, at least I don’t need to worry about losing you.”
Xivan stared into Talia’s eyes. Hers were the most beautiful deep pools, and Xivan didn’t think she would ever grow tired of looking into them. She’d grown good at reading them, too, so she knew right away that she’d done a spectacularly poor job of persuading Talea that any of that was true.
Talea leaned up, kissed her way over to Xivan’s ear, and then whispered, “Don’t ever try to reassure me by giving me the odds.” Before Xivan could answer, Talea kissed her, hard and deep. It was a kiss not only passionate, but apologetic and angry.
“I have to do this,” Xivan whispered, “but I’m not planning to die out there. You know that.”
Talea swallowed thickly. “I do know that. I hate everything about this, but I understand why you’re doing it.”
They kissed again. Slower this time and with something much more like goodbye in the taste of her lips.
When she finally pulled back, Talea said, “Don’t stay out too long. We’re fighting evil later.” Then she teleported back to the First World.
Xivan hung her head. She really should have known better than to think she’d fooled Talea for a moment. She didn’t know whether to laugh or—
Khaemezra cleared her throat.
Xivan thought she might have blushed. She hated herself for it, just a little. She didn’t give a damn about Khaemezra’s opinion, but they’d put on quite a show for the former Goddess of Death without the faintest shame.
Khaemezra didn’t seem offended, though. Mostly amused.
“So, what do you want out of this?” Xivan asked quickly. “To be Returned?” That was the price she’d come here expecting to pay. Teraeth would likely have a fit when he found out, but that was his problem.
Khaemezra looked genuinely surprised. Whatever snap answer she’d been about to give Xivan died in the woman’s throat. Her expression turned contemplative.
“No,” Khaemezra said. “No, I don’t want payment for this. It was my job.” Discomfort flickered over her features. “It should have been, anyway.” She motioned to the waterfalls. “Let me walk you through what you need to do.”