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Like Fire

Chapter 65

Azrian walked alone through the temple gardens, passing through the endless sea of slender white trees, each offering a bowl of water, each offering the temptation to peek. Each bowl held glimpses of distant lands and distant beasts. Each bowl was a window into someone's life. Azrian wanted to peek. She wanted to see what Etienne was doing, if he was safe, he missed her, if he . . . loved her still. She wanted to find Asres and Gallus for Yeneneshe, for she could tell the poor girl worried for them night and day. She wanted to use the water to reach Wilmer, who she seemed unable to communicate with, even if she could see him. At first, she had wanted to help Wilmer pass into the Halfway Place where he would be reborn, but one look at Palesa, and Azrian soon realized that Wilmer didn't want to go. Azrian also wanted to scry S'pru, wanted to see with her own eyes what was happening there. And had she enough power, she would not only be able to see: she would be able to reached through the water and crush those who had usurped her world!

Azrian wanted to do many things, and now that she was here in the SummerValley, she had the feeling she could do_anything_. She knew the others were impressed with her power, but she knew she was only impressive in her mortal form because of the SummerValley. The magic was teaming here, and it was curling through her veins like fire. There was no doubt in her mind that Ettoras and Kayya and even Zeinara would have experienced some keen boost in their abilities, something they likely hadn't taken notice of simply because they hadn't needed to use their powers.

Yeneneshe had also grown in power because of the valley, for Azrian knew the girl would not have been able to defeat the spirit of Hawkeye otherwise. Yeneneshe was a powerful girl simply because her anger and defiance lent her strength. But Hawkeye? Hawkeye was a conduit for the gods, pulsing with the power of Zihma, a force to be reckoned with. Hawkeye thrived on sorrow, and sucking the hope and the life from her enemies was her forte. At full power, she would have wilted Yeneneshe's spirit down to nothing, to emptiness and tears, before defeating her. But here in the SummerValley, Yeneneshe was stronger.

Azrian's face darkened with sadness to think of Zihma. Zihma did not approve of Ti'uu's obsessive attempts to fix the past, and in an attempt to break the endless cycle, she had sent Sinte, her son, to murder Azrian. At the time, Azrian was naturally infuriated with Zihma, so she killed Sinte and felt no remorse. Then Zihma sent her servant to kill Ettoras in revenge, and Azrian could feel nothing but fury. But now, after everything she had learned in the valley, after everything she had learned from Atieno, Azrian asked herself what she would have done if she were Zihma. Would she have sat idly by, calmly watching as Ti'uu pointlessly resurrected his daughter again and again just to die at the paws of King Antony? If Azrian had learned anything over the last twenty years, it was that the past could not be altered. And neither could the future.

"Nice evening for a stroll, isn't it?" said a voice.

Azrian glanced over her shoulder and smiled to see Motsumi approaching her through the trees. Azrian liked Motsumi. He was gentle, short, and stout, and had the warm eyes of a loving father. It suddenly occurred to her that he was like one of the gentle dog priests she had known at Wychowl, and she had to remind herself with a private laugh that Motsumi actually was a priest. Somehow, he reminded her of Samson, always so quiet, always so lost in deep contemplation. And like Samson, he seemed so peaceful a creature, yet such power lurked within him!

Motsumi approached with his paws behind his back, his strong legs flexing under his deerskin skirt, long mane loose around his shoulders and falling to the small of his back. Azrian thought he looked a little worried when he came to a stop beside her. His brows creased slightly in a frown and he peered off through the trees. "Palesa and Nkwe went for a stroll. They haven't been back for an hour."

Azrian snorted. "You know what that means. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."

Motsumi sighed. "There is everything to worry about. Those two were never meant to be. Each time they come together, catastrophe strikes. It is as if their love makes the very heavens move, brings the very gods to anger."

Azrian hesitated uncertainly and laughed. "Aren't you . . . being a little dramatic, Motsumi?"

Motsumi shook his head darkly and his eyes were hard. "I wish I were."

Baffled by Motsumi's grim mood, Azrian didn't know what to say. She licked her lips and glanced at one of the basins. The surface of the water showed Palesa locked in furious battle with a white vixen. Azrian couldn't believe it. She walked slowly toward the basin and peered inside. Motsumi came to her side, and they watched together as a younger version of Palesa fought with bloody teeth to fend off a vicious and wild-eyed white vixen who . . . looked like Yeneneshe.

Motsumi watched the battle in the water with something between hatred and sorrow in his eyes. "The waters here," he said heavily, "they not only show the present but also the past. That is Palesa when she was but a child, barely sixteen years old, defending me against Nkwe's sister . . . the _fiend_Mogethis."

Azrian looked up in surprise to hear the hatred in Motsumi's voice.

Motsumi blinked in sudden shame and cleared his throat. "My anger is misplaced," he said regretfully. "Mogethis killed my lover --" Azrian gasped, and he went on, "but only in defense of her brother. That hardly makes her a fiend, I suppose. And yet . . . these long years . . . I . . . how could I forgive such a thing? How could I make the anger cool in my heart? It raged on like fire. It rages still." His face darkened again and he swallowed hard. "I could not turn my eyes from the past, and it nearly destroyed me, nearly destroyed us all. I . . . am sorry for endangering your son at Canderly."

Azrian sadly shook her head and placed a paw on Motsumi's arm, a silent indication that he needn't apologize.

"Water echoes and reflects . . ." Motsumi looked at Azrian sadly. "Water can not let go of the past. It always flows back."

Azrian looked in Motsumi's eyes, which seemed to echo with misery and pain, and she knew he was speaking of Ti'uu, who could not move forward because it was not in his nature to do so. But she could move forward. Unlike Ti'uu, Azrian could make the choice to go on, Azrian could break the wheel. Motsumi nodded in silent approval when he saw the realization in her eyes.

"Move ever forward, daughter," Motsumi said gently. "Learn from the past but do not let it ensnare you."

Azrian nodded. Then her eyes crinkled up and she suddenly laughed.

Motsumi smiled. "What is it, child?"

"It's just . . ." Azrian laughed again, this time sadly. "I was thinking, where were you when I was lost and alone at Wychowl . . .?" Her eyes dropped to the battle raging in the water. ". . . so lost." She laughed sadly again. "I needed a Guide."

Motsumi put a comforting paw on Azrian's shoulder. "I'm here now."

***

"Where's your precious Motsumi_now?" Mogethis sneered. Without taking her furious blue eyes from Palesa, she conjured a shaft of light in her paws. The shaft lengthened into a spear made of purple flame, glinting razor-sharp in the evening glow. She took off her long, shaggy robe with a toss her white mane and went into fight stance, spreading her small feet and holding her spear ready. Beneath the robe, she was wearing a lavender one-piece that looked like a corset and knickers. Palesa almost laughed: _Mogethis was wearing dog undies.

"I don't need Motsumi to kick your tail," Palesa said through her fangs. "I didn't need him before!" She lifted her paws as if to aim an invisible bow and her bow of light appeared in them, shimmering yellow like the fire of Zuu'ma. Palesa could feel the power coursing through her stronger than ever before, and she knew it was the SummerValley's magic burning her, boiling her until her fury felt all-consuming. She conjured flame to her eyes and felt them burning as well, and when fear flickered momentarily in her opponent's gaze, she felt a private twinge of pride: Mogethis remembered what it was like, being burned by Zuu'ma's light.

They began to circle.

Mogethis was wild and arrogant as ever, twirling her spear casually in one paw, sizing Palesa up with disdain, something like hunger burning bright in her blue eyes. Her white mane was a tousled mess, falling like a lion's crown around her sneering face. Her eyes were lined, her mouth tired. Palesa thought Mogethis looked as if she hadn't slept in years, and yet, the white vixen was wide awake. Her white ears were forward in her mane, her tail was swaying and alert, her body light on her toes.

Mogethis had always had a bestial way of moving. She moved like a cat, prowling, circling, waiting to pounce. Yet her bare feet did not touch the earth with the graceful stroke of a feline. Her bare feet pounded the earth, demanding, subduing, as if she were in a ritual dance to her goddess.

That's what the fight was to Mogethis, a dance to please Yfel. Yfel had brought Mogethis here. And Yfel would take her away again.

"Where is my brother?" Mogethis hissed. "Whenever you and I cross paths, I know he is not far."

"Leave Nkwe out of this," Palesa said quietly, angrily.

Mogethis smiled bitterly. "Ah. Then my brother is near."

"Your brother is a grown male! He may choose his company as he pleases."

"No," said Mogethis, slowly shaking her head, her nose crinkled in a sneer, "he may not."

"Why!" Palesa demanded. "Because Yfel said it must be! You mindless fool!"

Mogethis laughed like a cat screaming at the moon. The sound shrieked against Palesa's ears and she flattened them. "Don't hurl insults that would suit you just as well, girrrl!" Mogethis purred, her accent rolling like the hiss of a cat. "We both stand here in the name of our gods. We both_belong to a force. We _both bow to that force. The only difference is, you think your goddess makes you better than everyone else!" With that, Mogethis lunged, streaking across the sky with one leg forward and one leg back, her spear raised and ready to strike.

Palesa's eyes widened, and with a warrior scream, she flipped back out of harm's way. Both females landed in a squat, and they hit the ground so hard, the earth shook, and dust rose around them in a cloud, while leaves cascaded down, and birds went shrieking to the sky. Palesa had landed with her bow of light in one paw, the other paw touching the ground. Mogethis had landed likewise: her spear of light in one paw, the other paw touching the ground.

The white vixen's head was down and hidden behind her thick mane. She slowly lifted her face and sneered at Palesa from behind tendrils of white hair, her eyes glinting mockery. "Shall we play cat and mouse? Or shall you face me with everything you have? I shall not chase you this time, girl. Either you will die or I will leave you and go on with my business. You seem to want Maret's breath. The stink of sorrow festers around you."

Palesa angrily gritted her fangs, and without warning, twin beams of yellow light zapped from her eyes. Mogethis barely had time to flip back out of harm's way. When Mogethis landed in a squat again, the earth trembled, and Palesa almost lost her footing as she climbed to her feet. She braced herself and lifted her bow of light, and the fury of her magic sent her gray mane beating back on a ethereal wind, until the yellow feathers woven in it looked like brilliant flame. She knew she must have looked terrifying, because Mogethis nodded with approval as she got to her feet.

"Good girl," Mogethis said, twirling her spear expertly in one paw. She smiled a wicked smile. "Now it gets interesting."

***

Zeinara's body rocked against the bed and she frowned. She could feel the earth shaking but thought it was a part of her dream. In her dream, she was eating Kayya out, and each time Kayya screamed, the trees would tremble. But the earth shook again, and this time it was so hard that Zeinara knew it was not her dream. Something was happening, but she didn't want to wake up, and then she saw Wilmer's ghostly face peering down at her and she screamed.

"Ahh!" Zeinara sat bolt-upright in her bed. She glanced around almost frantic and saw Wilmer hovering nearby. "Don't do that!" she wailed.

"About time you woke up," complained Yeneneshe.

Zeinara looked over to see Yeneneshe was sitting on the edge of the bed she shared with Ettoras. She had her knees pulled up and was hugging them. Her dark eyes turned fearfully to the ceiling as Ettoras sat beside her, his face creased with concern and his arm around her shoulders.

Kayya was sitting upright in the bed with Zeinara, her slender legs folded, her expression one of worry and fear, while over in the next bed, Florian was sitting up against his pillows, holding Shakir in his arms. Both males listened with fear to the trembling and quaking around them. Shakir was whispering a prayer. On the table beside the males' bed, the glass of water had shattered and the bright flower that was standing it had fallen to the floor, now wilted and sopping wet.

"What the bloody hell's happening?" Zeinara demanded, rubbing the sleep from her eye. "And why hasn't anyone gone up there to see?"

"Because Nkwe locked us down here when we tried," Florian said dryly.

Yeneneshe scowled. "He was only protecting us."

Florian snorted. "Protecting you and Zeinara, you mean." He looked at Zeinara again and jerked his head at the door. "I believe Pili is on the other side, guarding the hall."

Zeinara was about to swear when she remembered Wilmer. The ghost was standing near her bed, his eyes on the ceiling as he listened to the temple quaking.

"Wilmer!" Zeinara snapped.

Wilmer slowly turned his eyes to the golden-haired princess. "Zeinara?"

"Can't you unlock the door or something?" Zeinara demanded of the lethargic ghost. "You can walk through it, for god's sake!"

Wilmer slowly, sadly shook his head. "No, Zeinara. Don't ask me to do that. I won't."

Zeinara looked at Wilmer in amazement. "Why!"

". . . the bloody hell?" said a baffled Florian, glancing around as if he hoped to spot someone and prove to himself that Zeinara wasn't mad.

"There's a spirit here," Yeneneshe said calmly and didn't take her eyes from the ceiling when another quake hit. She slowly looked at Zeinara and touched the wolf fang talisman that hung around her throat. Zeinara recognized it as Nkwe's spirit talisman. "Isn't there? I feel it."

Ettoras looked between Zeinara and Yeneneshe curiously.

"Yes," Zeinara admitted heavily. Her eyes dropped to the floor. "There's a spirit. Palesa's lover. He's been with us for quite some time."

"Really? Watching everything we did? Well," said Florian sarcastically under his breath, "that's comforting."

"Some things make sense now, at least," Ettoras said, rolling his eyes as he no doubt recalled all the times he'd seen Zeinara talking to herself. He looked at Zeinara impatiently. "Can he help us? Ask him!"

Zeinara looked at Wilmer again. "Why won't you help us? We could stop what's happening! Uncle Nkwe could be in danger! Motsumi and Palesa --!"

"Are beyond your reach," Wilmer said quietly, regretfully. When Zeinara stared at him in amazement, he took an echoing breath, "If I unlock the door, you'll run up there and stop the fight. I want Palesa to die. I miss her." He smiled sadly. "Is that selfish of me?"

Zeinara slumped and a lick of golden hair tumbled across her eyes. She didn't know how to answer.

"What'd he say?" Ettoras asked. "The spirit -- Will he help us?"

Zeinara didn't answer but stared unhappily at the wilted flower on the floor. Somehow, the flower reminded her of Palesa. The flower had survived for thousands of years and now it was dead. It was as if the flower had just . . . given up.

"My mother's up there!" Ettoras burst angrily. "We have to do something! We have to try!"

Kayya watched sadly as Ettoras went to the door and banged on it, kicked it, and cursed it, growling and snarling in frustration. His wings fluttered behind him, sending great golden feathers spiraling everywhere, and after a while, Zeinara realized his breathless growls were now sobs. Yeneneshe eventually got up and went to Ettoras. Her black eyes were glistening with unshed tears as she hesitated, then put her small paw on his muscular shoulder. Ettoras tensed from her touch, but something in him wilted. He sank to his knees and bowed his forehead against the door.

"Goddess of the sun, protect Azrian," Shakir whispered and touched his forehead.

Florian laughed flatly. "Azrian is a goddess, love. She can protect herself and whoever's up there fighting."

Shakir shook his head sadly. "Can she?"

***

The moon had risen when the quakes begun. Motsumi nearly fell over the first time the ground shook, and Azrian caught his arm. They looked at each other with dread, then looked at the bowl of water again. The scene in the water had changed. Instead of day, the scene was now night, with stars winking and the moon rising high. Palesa and her opponent were now older, dressed differently, and fighting just as brutally. The two were locked in fierce battle, their eyes flashing as they screamed, swung, dodged, flipped, and shot bolts of magic across the sky. Blood tossed and the water swirled red.

"And the past becomes the present," Motsumi muttered. He looked at Azrian. "Stay here."

"I will do no such thing!" Azrian said at once.

Motsumi looked as if he would protest, but he thought better of it and said instead, "So be it." His eyes glowed with yellow fire, and the power echoed in his voice when he spoke again, "We will take Mogethis alive. No one will die here tonight." With that, he turned away, running as fast as he could toward the fighting.

Azrian watched Motsumi's back and pitied him: did he really believe that?

***

Palesa hit Mogethis with an arrow that sent her flying against the temple wall. The wall cracked in a web around Mogethis and the temple trembled before she managed to pushed herself off and flip down. She landed on the ground again with a bang, and before Palesa could make another move, had summoned her spear to her paw. She ripped Palesa's yellow arrow out of her shoulder with a trembling fist and marched her way, sneering around the blood that trailed from her nose.

Palesa stood there, waiting, bow slightly lowered, her mane blowing back with the force of her power. She had beaten Mogethis bloody and was satisfied with the strength the valley had given her. The magic of the valley was making the two of them stronger: leaves shed from the trees and birds screeched away into the starry sky each time their blows made the ground tremble. So this was what it was like to be a god, to move the entire world with a single breath. This was what it was like to be Azrian that fateful day S'pru was born.

Mogethis screamed a war cry and whirled, kicking one leg after the other in a spinning lunge. As she turned toward Palesa with a screaming face and flying mane, she tilted her spear to stab, and Palesa just stood there, bloody and tired and waiting for the final blow. When Mogethis realized Palesa was no longer fighting back, she pulled herself to a stop, the blade of her spear inches from Palesa's left eye.

"Why do you _stand_there, girl?" Mogethis demanded, practically spitting with impatience. She tapped Palesa's forehead with the point of her spear. "Knock, knock!"

Palesa looked at Mogethis listlessly. "Do it."

Mogethis looked at Palesa in amazement. "This is some trick."

"No."

"Why!" Mogethis demanded.

Palesa's eyes were empty. "I asked you to."

Mogethis sneered. "No! You will give me the fight I have longed for! You defiled my brother!" She backslapped Palesa brutally, and Palesa screamed softly and staggered. "You took from him that which belonged to Yfel! Always to Yfel!" She slapped Palesa again and blood flew. Palesa staggered back into a tree and felt the splash of water on her back. Her bow of light dissolved from her paws. Mogethis growled angrily when Palesa just stood against the tree, lifeless. "Summon your weapon, you sulking worm!" She slapped Palesa a third time, and the gray-speckled vixen staggered with a cry to one knee.

Palesa bowed her head and didn't move, her gray mane draping around her.

Mogethis stood over Palesa, breasts heaving angrily, covered in blood and leaves and earth, her mane wild around her, her blue eyes bright with rage. The spear of light in her paw was winking, flickering out. She was growing tired.

"Get . . . up . . ." Mogethis panted. "Why . . . . why do you . . . kneel there?"

Palesa thought Mogethis looked somewhere between outraged and utterly baffled. It was suddenly hilarious to Palesa and she laughed dryly, pausing only to cough up blood, then laughing hoarsely again. She laughed softly. Then loudly. Then hysterically. Until her throat was too dry to laugh, and instead she just made strange wheezing sounds. She thought she would faint. But she kept trying to laugh. Kept trying until she was coughing and choking.

". . . you've lost your mind," Mogethis decided. She nodded and lowered her spear. "That I understand."

"Do you?" Palesa whispered hoarsely. "I have lost . . . everything. I saw in the water . . . I saw that you were coming here. I want you to . . . end it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, girl," Mogethis said softly. "I serve She of Madness. If you are mad, you are one of my flock now."

Palesa laughed sadly, spitting more blood on the grass. "Then care for your flock. Let us put the feud behind us. . . . release me. I took nothing from Nkwe that he did not give freely."

Mogethis nodded, struggling with difficulty to accept Palesa's words. "I will release you. But know this: if I find your priest-father, I will end him."

Palesa blinked sadly. "Make it a good end."

"I will," Mogethis answered seriously. She lifted her chin. "You were . . . a worthy adversary."

Palesa glanced up in surprise to see the earnest in the vixen's blue eyes. Her lips slowly twisted in a bloody smile. "You too," Palesa answered quietly, sincerely. She closed her eyes and bit her tongue when the blade of the spear suddenly cut sharp into her belly. She choked as the world swam before her eyes, and she heard a voice screaming, "No! Palesa!"

"Mogethis!" roared two males in unison.

Palesa looked up in a daze and saw Motsumi and Nkwe charging their way. But Mogethis ripped the spear from her belly, and the world went black.

***

"I will end you now once and for all, demon!" Motsumi roared.

Azrian staggered to a horrified stop. She knew she wouldn't get there in time. She could see Nkwe coming from the other direction, and when he halted, she knew he was realizing the same thing: Motsumi and Mogethis were too far away. Mogethis sneered as Motsumi floated toward her like a spirit, and she didn't have a chance to move: beams shot from his eyes and laced across her throat like fire, snapping her head to the side. Nkwe screamed as blood exploded from his sister's throat, as Mogethis collapsed to the grass like a broken doll, as Motsumi roared in fury and rage. When the smoke had cleared, Motsumi was cradling Palesa, and Nkwe was cradling Mogethis.

The sobbing in the silence was unbearable.

***

Yeneneshe shook and began to cry uncontrollably. She didn't know why. She fell to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut, as if to hold back the tears, but they hit her face anyway, burning her cheeks like fire as they fell to the cold stone floor. She had almost fallen on her face when Ettoras caught her in his arms and held her to his chest. She shook against him, sobbing wildly, and he stroked her mane, whispering that he was there for her, that he loved her. She didn't see it when Ettoras looked at everyone else, completely baffled.

***

"Have each female borne to the temple," whispered a voice. "Have them placed on the altar."

Azrian looked around and blinked to find Wilmer standing beside her, his hollow black eyes burning with quiet sorrow as he watched Nkwe and Motsumi mourn. Lines withered his face and dark blood stained his white shirt. His ears were down and his spotted face gaunt. His paws were loose at his sides and relaxed. Azrian could see the blood under his nails. His feet weren't touching the ground.

"Spirit," Azrian answered, "why haven't you spoken to me before? I could have helped you."

Wilmer smiled. "You can help me now."

***

"I felt something just now," Florian said hoarsely. He was holding Shakir tight to his chest, as if he feared the smaller dog would disappear. Shakir's black mane was mussed from the strength of Florian's frightened hug, and he touched Florian's cheek to comfort him.

"Wilmer is gone," Zeinara muttered to the floor. She was sitting on the edge of her bed beside Kayya. Tears were flowing down her face and she didn't understand why. Kayya frowned in concern and caught Zeinara's tear with a corner of the bed sheet, but Zeinara didn't know what to tell her. Suddenly furious, Zeinara snapped to her feet and marched to the door. She halted in surprise when the door opened to reveal Pili.

Pili's dark eyes glanced solemnly around the room. Her lips parted, and she seemed to be struggling to find words.

"The quakes stopped," Zeinara said breathlessly, her golden mane tumbling. "What's happening up there!"

Pili dropped her eyes. "Come," she said quietly and turned away.

***

Zeinara remembered going to a fox funeral once when she was a child. She, Mogethis, and Nkwe had been living out in a forest on the border of Varimore for weeks, following a small band of foxes who had come together as bandits. The bandits preyed upon those foxhunters who were still foolish enough to enter the forest in search of fox prey. The bandits would ambush said foxhunters, sometimes rape them, always kill them, steal their armor and weapons, eat their food, then sell their possessions off to the next traveling merchant they happened upon. In the wake of S'pru's birth and the death of many fox tribes, the forest had become a kill or be killed anarchy, where beasts now roamed in small ragged bands and did exactly as they pleased. This often meant that beasts would die.

The leader of this particular band had her throat cut by a foxhunter who she had subdued and had planned to release alive, if not in his knickers. Little did she and her band know the foxhunter had a friend on the inside, who had pretended to tie his wrists tightly. The vixen was murdered in her tent in the middle of the night, and the foxhunter went on to slay many more foxes before Mogethis killed him.

The next morning, they held a funeral service, and because Mogethis and Nkwe were the only priests present, they presided over it. Zeinara was left alone in the audience, watching and not understanding as the slain foxes were burned on a pyre. She didn't understand that they were dead. She thought they would get up, and when they did - when she saw their spirits rise from their bodies -- she tried to stop the burning. She leapt out of her seat, screaming that the foxes were alive, that the burning should stop. Nkwe had to carry her away from the funeral. He tried to explain death to her and the rebirth of spirits, but she couldn't . . . she couldn't understand. Sometimes, Zeinara thought she still didn't understand. It was ironic, really, given who her mother was.

"Get up," present-day Zeinara whispered, paws in her pockets as she stared at the lifeless bodies on the altar. "Please . . . get up." She closed her eyes and bowed her head, and she could feel Kayya's comforting paw on her shoulder. For some reason, Kayya's sweet concern only made her cry. She hated falling to pieces in front of her, but she trembled and could not help it.

Palesa and Mogethis had been lain on the altar before the portal to Skkye, their bloody bodies side by side, their expressions solemn and even peaceful. They had been put there under Azrian's instruction, and now, everyone was gathered near the altar, heads bowed, holding each other and weeping for what was a senseless tragedy.

Motsumi and Nkwe stood looking numb and empty, both covered in blood and tears. It seemed neither of them could move.

Zeinara couldn't stop staring at Mogethis' body, couldn't stop waiting for her spirit to rise, for her to "get up." She didn't want to believe Mogethis was dead and gone. She wanted to fall in Nkwe's arms, wanted to weep, and she could tell Yeneneshe wanted the same thing, to held by her brother. But Nkwe looked as if he needed to be held himself. Pili came to Nkwe's side and put her small paw on his shoulder. Zeinara watched as he blinked back to earth, and realizing Pili was there, he turned to her and fell into her arms. Pili closed her eyes and smoothed his mane.

Motsumi watched Nkwe and Pili as if the life had been sucked out him. He looked so empty and drained standing there. And so alone. Azrian came to his side and put her paw on his arm. He smiled sadly at her.

"I don't think her spirit has passed into the Halfway Place," Motsumi said to Azrian. He frowned. "Is there nothing you can do . . .?"

Azrian shook her head. "I'm sorry."

Motsumi nodded and bowed his head, and his ears flattened in his mane. Zeinara knew what he was asking. He wanted Azrian to interfere, to stop Palesa from truly passing away and being reborn. He wanted her spirit to linger there with him. The truth was, any mortal fox could learn how to summon spirits from the Halfway Place, Azrian had just never learned to do such a thing. Mogethis had been able, ironically enough. And Nkwe. But Zeinara looked at Nkwe and thought he wasn't capable of buttoning his own pants at the moment, let alone summoning his sister's spirit.

"The portal is opening," Wilmer whispered. And indeed, the portal to Skkye was swirling with light, but no one seemed to notice. Or care.

Zeinara glanced around and was startled to find Wilmer standing right beside her. She suddenly realized that he had been there for quite some time. "Where have you been?" she demanded under her breath.

Wilmer smiled. "Never mind that," he said, nodding at the bodies on the altar. "They're going to get up. Just as you wished."

Zeinara followed Wilmer's gaze and blinked when Palesa and Mogethis did indeed sit up - right out of their bodies. Their spirits sat up on the altar and gazed around in confusion, and Zeinara noticed Azrian, Motsumi, and Nkwe - the only ones who could see them - turn their heads to watch.

"Sister," Nkwe sniffled, baffling Pili when he moved away from her and toward the altar, his eyes shining happily.

"Palesa," Motsumi said fondly.

Florian shook his head. "What is going on?"

Palesa's spirit was glowing yellow, shimmering, and warm. She came to Motsumi, touched his cheek, and smiled. But her eyes alighted on Wilmer, and she swept to him fast, laughing and crying in relief. Wilmer laughed and floated to Palesa with his arms open, and Zeinara couldn't help but grin through her tears as they kissed and embraced. Wilmer lifted Palesa and spun around with her, and her girlish laughter echoed through the temple.

"Never leave me," Palesa sobbed.

"I'll never leave you again," Wilmer said between frantic kisses.

Motsumi watched the happy reunion with tears in his eyes.

Kayya looked at Zeinara in wonder. "What's happening? What are you looking at?"

Zeinara smiled and put her arm around Kayya. "It's one of those happy endings you hear tell about."

"Tisk," said a disgusted voice, echoing as if down a well. "Happy endings. Haven't I taught you better, girl?"

Zeinara looked up and smiled through her tears: the spirit of Mogethis was floating her way. A dark burn was across the vixen's throat, and dried blood was trailing down it into her . . . corset? Zeinara almost laughed. She glanced at the bodies on the altar, and it hit her for the first time that Mogethis was wearing dog underwear.

"Do not snicker at my under things," Mogethis warned, coming to a stop before Zeinara. Nkwe came up beside his sister, smiling in a way Zeinara had never seen him smile before.

"Your under things?" Zeinara returned with a laugh. "You stole my underwear. Isn't that a bit trite?"

Mogethis looked away and sheepishly rubbed her arm. "I thought they were pretty," she admitted under her breath and scowled when Zeinara burst into laughter.

"Milk and lace panties," said Nkwe with a wry smile. "My sister's one weakness."

Kayya coughed awkwardly. "I'll just . . . leave you three to talk," she said and went to join the awkward group who also could not see the spirits.

Mogethis watched Kayya go, then shook her head disapprovingly at Zeinara. "I would almost prefer Robin for you. At least with Robin you would be queen of the universe."

"Don't nag the girl after what we've all been through," scolded Nkwe. "And where is Robin, anyway? Please tell me she's alive."

"She's alive!" Mogethis said irritably. "How could it benefit the goddess to harm her? I told her to hide until the high moon, when the portal would open. She should be coming soon. You will give the weapons to her before she departs for Skkye. That way, she can destroy them."

Nkwe shook his head. "We don't even have them all."

"She only needs but one," Mogethis told him. "She can summon the others with it."

"Did Yfel tell you all this?" Zeinara asked darkly. "Did _she_tell you to kidnap Robin!"

Mogethis frowned. "Do not begin your whining, girl. I did what I had to do for the goddess. I did what was needed. I'd do it again."

"You knew you were going to die!" Zeinara accused in a roar and fresh tears started to her eyes. "You knew! You always kn-knew! And now we'll never be together ag-gain --!" The word choked in her mouth when Mogethis floated forward and grabbed her face in both paws. She kissed Zeinara fiercely on the forehead and hissed, "We all die."

Zeinara sniffled quietly and tears streamed down her face. "M-Mogethis . . ."

Mogethis took Zeinara roughly to her breasts and held her. Zeinara gave away to tears as the priestess smoothed her mane and whispered warmly, "Hush, my sweet child. We all die. We all die, girl . . ."

Zeinara was startled by just how solid Mogethis felt and clung to her desperately. "Mogethis . . ." she whispered miserably and closed her eyes. "Mother . . ."

Zeinara couldn't see it when Mogethis smiled.

Nkwe drew near and put his arms around them both. "Hush, child," he whispered to Zeinara. "Her essence is strong. It is her strength of will that allows her to break through, to hug you and hold you. Nothing could stop us holding you." He pulled back and smiled at Zeinara. "Even death."

Zeinara smiled at Mogethis and Nkwe, tears in her eyes.

"What about me?" said a bitter voice. "Did you forget me so fast, the pair of you?"

Zeinara stepped away from Nkwe and Mogethis when Yeneneshe approached. The young white vixen came to a stop before Nkwe and Mogethis, and Zeinara thought her face was tight with hurt, no matter how she tried to hide it. She stood very stiffly, regarding Mogethis with something like hate. Nkwe looked at Yeneneshe in surprise.

"You . . ." Nkwe cleared his throat. "You can see Mogethis?"

Yeneneshe touched the wolf fang talisman around her throat. "Yes," she whispered and her nostrils flared when she swallowed hard, swallowed down tears.

Mogethis opened her mouth to speak, but Yeneneshe growled over her, "Save your excuses. I am not Zeinara. I will not wilt. I will not c-cry. Maybe it is better you were dead. You can't hurt me anymore."

Mogethis shook her head. "So long as you don't forgive me, girl," she said quietly, "I will hurt you. I will continue to have power over you. Didn't your Asres teach you that?"

Yeneneshe blinked in surprise. "You knew about Asres?" she said angrily through her fangs. "You knew where I was!" she shrilled.

Nkwe looked at Mogethis unhappily, also waiting for an explanation.

"Yes," Mogethis said solemnly and drew herself up, as if to face her younger sister's rage. "I knew."

Yeneneshe shook her head, her face contorted with anger. "Then why didn't you come for me --!"

"Because you were safe with the priest of death!" Mogethis snapped. Zeinara was shocked when her lip trembled and tears started to her eyes. "You were safer with Asres than you ever_would have been in my care! How do you think it made me feel to know that some priest of death," she waved an angry paw, "could protect you better than I? Could make you _happier than I could? I remember what you were like among our tribe, a sulking child who hated her husband and feared Yfel's destiny for her. I released you of that destiny!" Her lip trembled again. "I s-saved you."

Yeneneshe's breasts heaved and the anger smoothed from her face. Tears glistened down her cheeks and she said nothing. Zeinara could see her black eyes welling up with sadness.

"I had to do what was right for everyone, not what was right for myself," Mogethis went on, suddenly looking very tired. "I had --" the sentence halted in her mouth when Yeneneshe suddenly hugged her. She stiffened as if she didn't know what to do, then very slowly, she closed her arms around Yeneneshe and squeezed her eyes shut, and Zeinara watched as the sisters wept. Nkwe drew close and smoothed down Yeneneshe's long white mane with a comforting paw.

"Is everything alright?" Ettoras asked, drawing near to Zeinara, Kayya in tow. "Is Yen alright?"

Zeinara smiled sadly and slipped her arm around Kayya. "I'd say she's better than ever."

"Is this a funeral," called a voice, "or my ascension?"

Everyone looked up, and Zeinara went still.

Robin was standing at the bottom of the stair, glowing like fire.