Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
I look up and stare at the green-skinned mummy man, who commands me to stand up with a flick of his finger.
I stand, looking around at all the gods, then finally up to his green face.
“I have a gift for you.”
More protests. But this god doesn’t seem to care. He simply smiles at me, withdraws a bag from his mummy wrappings—the very bag that Pell and I found in place of my Book of Debt after we brought the forest monsters into the sanctuary—and he bends down.
He takes a ring out of the bag and asks me for my hand. I extend it and he pushes a little ring onto my finger. “This one you keep.” Then he ties the bag to a loop at the waist of my skirt and stands back up. “It is done.”
The room, which had gone eerily quiet, erupts into a new cacophony of objections.
But, as Ptah said, it is done.
I’m still standing there—the only girl standing—and I feel the heat of Ostanes’s stare. So I look at her. She is frowning. But then she smiles.
And it is this smile that explains everything. Call it intuition. Call it suspicion. I don’t care what it’s called, when I look at her I see through her. As in her intentions.
She wants my rings.
And when I look at the rest of them—except for Ptah, who is sitting back on this throne, casually picking at his pristine, white wrappings—they are staring at me with… hunger?
Not for me, of course.
None of this has anything to do with me.
They want my rings too.
This is the magic. These rings were given to me by some god I’ve never even heard of. Some old, long-forgotten, washed-up and nearly useless god.
I’m sure, as a child, I had no idea what was happening. I didn’t have the context of the future to put all the pieces together. I’m equally sure that I had no idea these gods—including the one calling himself my ‘father,’ not to mention Ostanes, who has told me she is my mother—were using me in some kind of… conspiracy.
Perhaps Cronus, Zeus, Saturn, and Ostanes are all in it together.
But I doubt it.
You don’t have to be some magical empath to feel the vibe in this room.
These people are enemies through and through. And once again, Pell’s words come to mind. If Saturn did have a nemesis, it would’ve been another god.
This is it.
I’m looking at… the why. Why is my life so fucked up? Well, it all starts here.
These damaged gods are so full of themselves. So pumped-up with self-importance. So sure they are necessary—even after humanity has left them behind—they are scheming. And worse, they are using little girls to fulfill these schemes.
Suddenly Ptah stands up and roars, “That’s enough!” His voice is so deep and powerful, it shakes the room and I am immediately reminded of Pell.
And then my mind is swirling with questions. Where is Pell? Is he on some memory trip too? Or is he still back in the forest, wondering what the hell happened to me?
“It is time,” Ptah says. “Get on with it.”
“He’s right.” Ostanes walks over to me and takes my hand. The smile she shoots me is a bad impersonation of something warm. She’s not even looking at me, I realize. She’s not even thinking about me. Her eyes are on my bag of rings.
She must notice me watching her because she snaps out of it. “Hurry up and bestow the remaining gifts. We’re late.”
Each of the other three girls is told to stand. The one in front of Ptah—I’m assuming she comes from his House—is given a single red apple from Saturn. It reminds me of the poison apple from Sleeping Beauty, but I’m sure there’s some kind of magic in there.
The one in front of Cronus is given a crown of roses by Zeus. They are black and the whole thing is heavy with thorns. One of them pricks her head when Zeus places it and a little bit of blood drips down the side of her face.
The one in front of Zeus is given a wand made out of silver and topped with a yellow stone from Cronus. She is the only one of us who smiles. Like she thinks her gift is so special. And… well, maybe it is. But I don’t think she knows that. Not for sure.
Unless the three of them are also reliving their slavery-day memory, I’m the only one who understands the gift. One day, a long time from now, I will use these rings to control doors that lead to other places.
“One last thing.” Ostanes lifts her hands in the air in a dramatic way that accentuates the bell-shaped sleeves of her intricately embroidered robe. And then she says, “‘Four girls, a room, some gifts and thrones. Four gods each know their place at home. A mother gives a book of words, locked up tight in the beaks of birds.’”