THOTH & MORVEREN
Thoth got the shock of his life when Lorraine appeared over the bow of his sailing boat.
“Naughty,” she waggled her finger elegantly at him while he scrambled back onto his feet. The sudden appearance of the Russian deity had caused him to lose his balance on the unstable floor and fall unceremoniously onto his backside.
She took a step forward over the hull, glaring forcefully at the jib – the small sail at the front of the boat – which stopped flapping instantly. Thoth could still feel the sea breeze playing over his hair, so he knew she hadn’t stopped the wind, just stilled the sail. The main sail hadn’t been erected yet; he’d been checking the ropes on the vessel when she’d appeared. He got back onto his feet, ignoring the gentle rolling motion of the dinghy, and backed up a little (which was difficult, since he had one leg on either side of the centreboard in order to keep the boat balanced in the water). What was Lorraine doing on his boat in the middle of the night?
“I think the better question,” the deity muttered delicately as she examined the mast with obvious distaste, “is what are you doing on your boat in the middle of the night?”
Thoth glared at her. ‘Sanctity of the mind’ was just a four-word phrase to her people.
She stepped gently off the hull and into the boat. He braced himself for the boat to roll suddenly, but she seemed to bear no weight: after a moment of examining her feet, he realised that she was levitating about half an inch off the floor.
“I really don’t appreciate you killing yourself while you’re supposed to be training with me,” she gave a soft, feminine sigh which made Thoth’s stomach turn. “Especially since you insist on doing it on your own. The least you could have done was bring that little upstart prince along with you.”
Thoth felt a surge of anger swelling in his gut, but he didn’t rise to the bait. He didn’t share the same loathing of Lorraine that Tristan did, which was understandable – he, Thoth, hadn’t lost half his family in the Russian’s winter – but she was still one of his least favourite deities. Even being around her was enough to make him clench his fists and knit his eyebrows together, which she just seemed to find amusing. She clapped her hands together and presented him with a honey-sweet smile under knowing blue eyes which seemed to say, and how exactly do you plan to stop me from doing whatever I want?
He was really starting to dislike the original fairies.
“I’m not going to kill myself,” he told her, keeping his anger in check. “I’m going to get my ren. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Didn’t you, ledi,” she corrected quietly. “Or seba’iqer. Tsi might tolerate your rudeness, but I will not.” She regarded him with her cool, sharp blue eyes. Thoth thought she must have chosen the colour deliberately to remind him of his mother, which just made him want to punch her in the face even more. “I have a quest for His Royal Mucker, the prince of pigsties.”
“Tris? He mucks out the horses, not – ”
“Whatever. Tell him to retrieve the keys to the old prison on Apeliotes Island and bring them to me in the pantheon. And remind him that ignoring a goddess’s quest is extremely rude.”
“Why do you want – ” He stopped himself. Was there any point questioning a deity quest? “Aren’t you supposed to give quests to people in person? Shouldn’t you be giving me a quest?”
“Alright,” she replied in a bored sort of voice. “Your quest is to tell him his quest. And if you don’t go and do it now, I will tell the guards what you’re up to. Motivation enough for you?”
She didn’t wait for confirmation, but simply melted away onto the wind. Thoth kicked the boon lying at his feet, and regretted it immediately when a burst of pain shot up his toe. Great. Deliver a quest from Lorraine to Tristan, delay getting his ren, and drag his best friend off to one of the most dangerous places on Shaman. Just great.
He jumped from the boat onto the pier and raced over to where he’d left Junebell grazing, fully tacked up and ready to go anywhere. As though his body knew that he had finally come of age, he’d gone through a growth spurt over the past couple of months and was now tall enough to mount the pony without a block. If he kept this up, he might actually catch up to the other boys his own age before he turned fourteen. He pulled himself in the saddle, kicked Junebell’s sides and spurred her into a gallop back towards the castle. If he was lucky, he might just reach it before dawn.
The sky was beginning to lighten as he pulled up in front of the gates, but the sun hadn’t risen yet. Leaping from her back, he clambered over the gates, raced across the lawn, pushed open the front doors and found… Morveren. She was sat on her haunches in the middle of the hallway, glaring at him and looking thoroughly indignant about being left behind.
“Sorry,” he told her guiltily. “I just… didn’t want you to get hurt.”
She puffed her cheeks out and blew a raspberry.
He reached out and touched her mind, soothing her hurt feelings and reassuring her. Thoth could bear a grudge to high heaven and back, but one of the things he loved the most about Morveren was her inability to stay mad at anyone for long. When he knelt down on the ground and held his arms out, she nipped his finger but crawled eagerly into his embrace, making her weird purring noise. She was still annoyed, and the scolding feelings which enveloped him seemed to be saying: you don’t always have to do it alone, you know. He picked her up and hugged her tight.
“I know,” he muttered, “I should have brought you and Tris along the first time. Let’s go and get him.”
Thoth stood up, holding the water-fox carefully, and started along the corridor as quickly and quietly as he could. The castle was still, but there would still be night guards on patrol. Twice he had to duck inside an empty room to avoid being spotted. He traced the correct path easily and without incident, put his shoulder against his best friend’s door and pushed it open, wincing as it creaked loudly. The drapes over the bed were drawn, so Tris was probably still asleep… which made sense. It was probably only about four in the morning.
“Tris,” he hissed. “Hey. Get up. How can you sleep at a time like this?”
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