My tears roll down my cheek, one by one, drip, drip, drip onto the sandstone below. I watch them fall, one after another, a small pool forming in the indent in the stone.

"Tafia and Sera are here to see you, child," Postite Antin bends his creaking knees to crouch down next to my head. He gently smooths my hair back from my face. "Have you bathed today, Mara?"

I could take offense with his gentle question... if he meant that I smell. Unfortunately, Antin is hoping that this depressed state I am in will fade if I swim in my father's pool.

"I have," I answer him.

I have tried to shake this fugue, but I can't seem to drag myself up out of this terrible mood. Hearing that Tafia and Sera are here to visit me doesn't help. The shouting match between them as I lay in agony in the sacred chamber rings through my head a full month later.

"It's your fault! My House is suffering right alongside the First!"

"How can you blame me? You rejected me, remember?!"

"And now I am scarred and you are without your cat, Tafia!"

"At least I am alive."

"For now. Wait until my House realizes what is happening here. She's dangerous, Tafia. Open your eyes."

"They are open, Sera. Finally."

I thought they were going to hate each other... and me. They don't, but I'm still not comfortable with them. Sera knows who I am... not who I was, just who I am now. She thinks that I am dangerous.

My father's birthday present could have been better, that's all I'm saying. He could have gotten me a nice necklace or a plant.

"A nice flowering bush would have been great."

You have an entire temple with gardens filled with flowers

"Not the same," I mutter. I sigh despondently. "The gods are at war and I am a weapon of my father's," I say quietly.

Not true

"It is true. I am dangerous. I can slice apart mate bonds set by Fate itself."

Not Fate... Love

"How can I tell? Who really determines who we end up Fated with?" I ask my father softly.

Postite Antin is quiet, stroking my hair and letting me speak with my father. He knows, by now, what is happening when I appear to be talking to myself. That is just another consequence of my mistakes, I no longer hide my oddities.

Your soul

"But then why, in the name of all the gods and everything holy and mundane, would my soul choose to be paired with Thane? Am I an idiot?" I ask in frustration.

You are a frustrating child, Daughter

"Yes, I know. I'm frustrating and frustrated, father."

My Mara

He sighs.

Patience

I'm patient. Look at me, just lying on this hard stone bench, making holes in rocks, outside in one of the mourning gardens. It takes a long time to form holes in stone. I haven't been able to move for hours to make my little pool.

"Come on, now, Mara. Up. The females are here to see you."

I love my friends. But I figure they probably miss their lives before I interfered and blasted their reality to bits.

Slowly, I push myself up. I close my eyes, letting my body adjust to the new position. I have been feeling faint quite a bit lately.

"Mara?"

"I'm fine, Postite. Just a little dizzy."

"You've been unwell for over a month, Mara. Please, after your visit with Tafia bathe in the pool again."

"I will," I promise him. I haven't been eating much. I'm thirsty all the time, but not hungry. My body feels needy for something and I have no idea what.

I don't bother to brush my hair before stumbling towards the small rooms Patriarch receives visitors in.

"Lady Mara!" Tafia greets me with a grin.

"Taffy," I murmur, "Sera."

Their twin smiles fade, "you still look pale, Lady, forgive me for saying so," Sera says.

"I don't feel well," I admit.

"Why? What's wrong? Are you sick? You look too skinny. Doesn't she look skinny, Sera?"

Tafia is a babbler. I never would have thought. I swear by Nateos the female doesn't stop talking... ever.

Momo saunters up behind her, swaying his hips exaggeratingly. He stands next to Tafia and starts to flap his mouth open and closed, hands on his hips, rolling his eyes.

A small smile curls my lips at his mocking gestures. I lick my lips, so thirsty, when Alnue pops up with a flask.

He pours it into one of the three cups on the table. I make sure to grab it, first, before Tafia and Sera can.

We all sit in the semi-circle of chairs around Patriarch's desk. Sera arranges her skirts carefully, ever the lady. Tafia is more haphazard, the energy flowing off of her still surprises me after how I met her so many months ago.

The wine tastes like spice with a hard, pungent scent. I'm afraid to think of what it is. For the last month, this drink is all that has kept me on my feet.

"So," Sera interrupts the steady flow of words from her love's mouth, "Taffy and I were thinking that we can take you to see our new home!" she smiles, clapping her hands in glee.

I sit up a little straighter. "Did you finally find something?" The females have been living in the Mother's territory in one of the temples. Homeless, essentially. It must be hard, to not know where you belong.

"Here, in the apartments just outside of the western square!" Sera smiles proudly.

I'm stunned. "Here? In my- in Nateos' section of the city?"

"Yes! It's so cute, Mara. It has two bedrooms, bigger than we need, but it's over the sewing shop, you know the one? It's better than all of the butcher shops..." Tafia's voice trails off.

I feel immense guilt. When Tafia had her cat she would have loved living next to a butcher. I gnaw on my lower lip. "I'm sorry, Tafia," I say quietly.

She shakes her head, sadly. "It's not your fault, Mara. I... I lost her long before you even knew me."

Sera takes her hand and squeezes it. I watch them, seeing how they gravitate towards each other, comforting each other without words. They are in love, despite not having a true bond anymore. Maybe my father was correct. Our souls can choose our bonded loves, our Fated ones. Why, then does the goddess interfere?

Although, I interfered, too, didn't I?

I've given myself a headache. I take another long sip of my wine. The hunger in my belly is abating, but it still pinches.

"So, can you come to see it?" Tafia asks eagerly.

Not today, Daughter

My father sounds worried. I'm not sure if I'm still being punished, but this feels different.

"I can't, yet. I can't leave the temple complex," I say, pouting.

Both females look at me, then each other. They look sad, suddenly. I feel terrible, the guilt squirming inside me. They have each other, true, but no family.

Mishu and Mushu come scampering into the room just then. Mushu is holding up his prize... one of Postite Banio's wooden spoons. He's always filching one from the kitchen. It drives Banio crazy.

It gives me an idea, however.

"How about a picnic, here?" I suggest.

Both females brighten up. Sera giggles and looks at me. "Is there a garden near the western wall?"

"No," I reply, wondering at the mischief I see dancing in her eyes. "Just the Recondite mausoleum and some empty fields." It's not where I would necessarily choose to have a picnic. "Why?" I ask her, suspicious.

"Because," she whispers secretively, "today is the day the Recondites are announcing a new Captain. I've heard there are fights and battles before they choose."

"Really?" I exclaim. How did I not know about this?

Tafia seems to see my question, blurting out the story, "we were touring apartments a couple of days ago and heard some of the Recondites talking about one of the top contenders returning from the desert."

"One of the Recondites was in the desert?" I ask with a shiver. I was never fond of the desert. Now? It holds some of my own dark secrets that I would rather not think about.

"Our new apartment overlooks their eastern gate," Tafia whispers conspiratorially. "We were going to spend the day spying."

It surprises a snort out of me. Very ladylike. "You do know that they are called the Shadow Warriors? You can't possibly think that they'll display some sort of secret rite for the entire city to see?"

Tafia smirks, "which is why your idea of a picnic is a fabulous one. They won't be watching their eastern walls, Mara. They won't expect spies from here!"

It doesn't sit right, to spy on the Recondites, especially when they are replacing Lier, today, but...

"Alright. We'll have to be sneaky. Postite Banio guards his kitchens like the Basru guarding the Underworld."

My father is hysterically laughing.

---

My left arm is acting touchy again. I whirl my arm at my shoulder, trying to work out the joint that is slowing me down fractionally. I flex my winged shoulder. I don't have to fully extend it, a good thing in the cramped interior of the Recondite barracks.

My arm twinges. I learned the hard way that wrestling with a four Recondites at the same time is a bad idea. Nanto, that bastard, took a good chunk out of my shoulder before I turned him into pudding.

"Shoulder still hurt?" Belen strolls up next to me as he straps his own knives on.

"Naw," I grunt and accept the dagger he hands me. Testing it, I flick it back and forth and run my thumb along the edge. "Good blade," I tell him, handing it back.

Belen tucks the blade into the hidden holster on his forearm. I wait patiently for my comrade to say what I can see on the tip of his tongue. "You want to see something amazing?" he asks in a hushed voice. Bright, wild, green eyes dance in glee. Belen's grandfather had been a shifter of some sort, but my friend is a skinwalker. He can't hide the strange slitted eyes of his beast. It's off-putting to some, but I don't give a rat's ass, he is a good friend.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Now?" I ask. I have been tested all night and into the wee hours of the morning by the Recondites. I just have to make it through the elemental tests and I will be the new Captain.

"Just for a moment," Belen promises me. "I swear to the gods you've never seen such a sight."

I finish strapping on my knives, patting the hidden holster inside my shirt. "Alright, Bel. Lead away."

He snickers, "you lead, remember?" He's more excited about my new position than I am, I think.

"Follow me."

When I see where we are headed I raise an eyebrow at the back of his head. Is this some sort of initiation prank? I relax my tense muscles, readying myself for anything and everything.

"So, remember I told you about the Flame of the Death temple?"

"Not really," I admit.

Belen looks over his shoulder at me and rolls his eyes. "I swear to the gods you're an idiot. The Flame, the gorgeous, slightly creepy daughter of Nateos?"

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. The daughter of a god, walking amongst us mortals. Sure. Believable.

What's more believable is that some pretty little piece of fluff has managed to convince some gullible shifters that she communes with the dead. The Death temple is making gold off of this creature. The greed is a little sickening, to tell the truth. They are profiting from people's grief.

"Right," Belen says quietly. "Silent feet, my friend. We don't want to scare them off."

"Them?" I stare at the solid grey mausoleum in front of us.

"She's picnicking, I think," Belen murmurs, "with two of her friends." He steps on a stick.

"Honestly, you're the idiot," I mumble. "Where are they, Bel?"

"On the other side of the building, there's a hedgerow. She's just on the other side."

"Odd place for a picnic."

"Probably trying to get a glimpse of the new Recondite Captain," he grins and nudges my shoulder.

"Right. So they're spying on us and we're returning the favor? You're not going to give this up until I look for myself, are you?"

"No." A green cat-eye winks at me.

With an exasperated shake of my head, I leap for the side of the building, letting my wings catch the updraft and help carry me to the roof. I hear Belen curse from below me and grin. No wings, but with a cat in him he should be able to find a way up here.

The mausoleum isn't just a burial chamber. Solid, with just a few bolt-holts as windows and only three points of access, it's a veritable fortress. Built into the roof are low-slung parapets and underhangs to protect from enemies both on the ground and in the sky. I have no idea why it was built next to the Death complex. I assume either to protect us from the old males who serve Nateos, or to protect the old males who serve Natoes. Either way it doesn't concern me. I just like knowing that it's here.

I ignore the overhangs and the parapets. The little females won't be looking up. They aren't warriors. My stroll across the roof is casual and unhurried. I hear Belen grunt from behind me and grin. As the new Captain, I should make climbing part of the training.

Actually, that's not a bad idea.

Where would we practice? The mountains are across the city. That would be the obvious choice, even though some of the Houses over there are apparently, in Belen's words, "snobby, stuck-up, purists who don't appreciate cats."

I'll find a way to set up a practice site. If I order a House to let us use their land than they'll just have to accept it. Or, even better, I don't inform them and make that part of the training. Sneaking in and climbing. Even better.

Grinning, I approach the edge of the roof. When Belen manages to haul his out-of-shape carcass over here I'll ask him where the best location for-

The fiery sprite I spy through the arrow-bolt stops me in my tracks. "Nateos," I whisper the prayer from numb lips as my heart catches on fire.

She is... my gods, my body is burning... she is everything.

All that I never knew I ever wanted.

I can feel my soul yearning for her. She is sitting on a light grey blanket, her head tilted back toward the sky, eyes closed. Her face is sculpted into feminine perfection, lips of berries curl against alabaster skin with flecks of gold scattered as beautifully as the stars in the desert sky at night.

My knees give out, forcing me to lean against the wall, but I don't take my eyes off of her.

"My beauty," I whisper.

Her robes fall around her, clinging to her frame. Her body makes my mouth water. I swallow reflexively. Her hair... I yearn to wrap those locks of fire around my body while I worship hers.

It comes slowly, the realization that she is the priestess, the living child of Nateos, Death's Daughter. My Flame.

I touch the stone with my gloved fingertips, pretending that it is her skin. Untouchable, my priestess is untouchable, but I can't seem to send the message along to my body. I'm hard as the stone I'm leaning against and I'm ready to claim my prize. If I let this urge lead me I would crash off of this roof and lay her down on the blanket to unwrap her like a Solstice gift. I would touch every delectable piece of her, taste her until my appetite is sated for the next time. I imagine it wouldn't be long before I was back on her. I could never sate myself of her.

I am the new Captain of the gods. Recondites, feared and respected throughout the desert, we take what we want. Yet, this creature has me on my knees, trembling like a wet-behind the ears boy.

All I want is her. Suddenly, the loss of my own memories, my own life, doesn't hurt as much. What was life before her?

Since waking up in the desert I yearned to be the best. I haven't even thought of a woman. I was focused. Determined.

Now I would piss on my own title if it won me her.

But I don't need to toss away my post. It will lead me directly to the Flame. It's all I need as an excuse to see her and speak to her. I protect and she is precious.

"Fucking hell, Lios. I forgot how fast you are." Belen claps me on the shoulder. "Lios?"

"She's my Flame," I whisper with lips slowing warming up for the first time.

"Ah, what the fuck did you just say?" Belen asks me, his hand falling away from my shoulder.

"My Flame, my Warmth in the cold. I've found her... finally."

"Fucking shit."

My head explodes in agony. I snarl, hearing the distant feminine laughs of joy just before blackness greets me.