Who can I trust?

Who won't betray me?

The war rages on over our heads. I can hear shouts, screams of pain, the thick pounding of battering rams against the gates and walls...

I feel so much grief that the burden of it has become natural. My hunger is back, gnawing straight through my stomach to my backbone. I fear I am starting to resemble a wraith of the Underworld, skeletal and pale.

I haven't seen Lier in over a week. He strode out of the mausoleum with purpose after I gave my blood to the little male to drink. He never returned.

The Recondites guarding the mausoleum won't speak to me. Something has changed in the air. I showed Lier the truth of War, but what if he doesn't believe me?

Worse, what if he does believe me, but has turned traitor and wants War to win?

He is Basru

"I know," I whisper to my father. Lier is sworn to me, but then why isn't he here?

A sudden scramble catches my attention. Alnue and the little male are fighting over the vial of my blood.

My blood. I haven't had the chance to administer my blood to any of the Recondites and Lier has not brought an enemy undead to me. My blood in the vial has turned dark purple with age, congealing on the bottom of the vial, with streaks of pink floating at the top as the liquid separates.

The little male doesn't win the battle with Alnue. They are hissing at each other, glaring, but Alnue has the vial secure in his stone grasp.

The little male is growing. Just yesterday he was smaller by half-a-hand. His balance is better. He is walking and running with more grace. His arms and legs have thinned out. He is losing the last of his baby chubbiness. Already he the size of Poppy, and she must be at least three years older than he is. He isn't starving, either. It seems that my blood sustains him for a long while.

"Alnue," I croak out, my voice weary from disuse, "give it to him. He's probably hungry."

"He's not hungry, mama," Poppy says softly. She walks to me and strokes my forehead. My heart hurts for her. She watched her real mother die in the cellar and now she is forced to watch me slowly wither away. Erra hisses something that sounds profane at Alnue. I think the gargoyles are teaching him to swear in their scraping-stone voices.

"Erra that's naughty," Poppy scolds. She takes the vial from the male.

"Erra?" I ask her, only then realizing that this is the little male's name. I look at him. Erra. It is an odd name. It literally means 'destruction.' Gods.

"What are you doing?" Tafia takes the vial from Poppy's hands. "What is this?" Her voice is raspy from crying and under-use.

"It is Mara's blood," Patriarch Salbin says calmly, although he is eyeing the little male, Erra, with distaste.

"Why is he drinking your blood, Mara?" she asks, sounding bewildered and not just a little disgusted.

I take a deep breath. "It heals and protects, but it also makes the drinker obedient to me. We are thinking of using it on the enemy undead."

"And the Recondites," Patriarch Salbin speaks up.

I toss him a glance. I don't particularly want Tafia to know that. After Sera... I just can't trust her.

"You don't trust me," Tafia says sadly.

I'm startled. Did I speak out loud?

"I can see it on your face. Because of Sera," Tafia shakes her head sadly. "She always struggled so much, Mara," she chokes out through her tears, "she was torn between her love for me and her loyalty to her House."

"There are no Houses," I seethe. Everyone in the room looks at me in wary contemplation. I shake my head. "There will be no Houses. Death has no House. This must stop."

"Mara, child," Patriarch Salbin begins to speak.

"No! Do not try and placate me!" I snap. I almost blurt out the truth, that I intend on destroying this city, but I bite my tongue. This is their home. Who can I trust?

"The vial," I say, holding out my hand.

Tafia shakes her head. "What happens when the Recondites drink this?"

"They will be loyal to us, rather than War," Patriarch says bluntly.

"Aren't they helping us?" Tafia whispers.

"For now," a soft voice interrupts. Esa walks up to us. She has bowls of food in her hands. "They let me out because of Belen," she tells me. "Oh, Mara, you don't look well," she murmurs. Her eyes are sympathetic as they look me over.

I nod. She may be the only one in our little group who the Recondites trust, but can I trust her? The weight of my decisions is heavy and without my males here...

"The Recondites are fighting amongst themselves. There are a few who wish you gone. They can turn on you at any moment," Esa says to me. "I've ignored their whispers for days, but this morning they became louder, more confident."

"What are they discussing?" Patriarch Salbin asks harshly.

"Killing Mara and the children as soon as her warriors are preoccupied with the constant attacks."

"Let me keep the vial," Tafia says quietly. She is spinning it in her hands.

We all look at her. "They allow me to leave, too. We've been... I've been helping the wounded for days. It's a simple task to slip them this while giving them their medicine."

"Allow her to do it," Esa says quietly.

Give to her

I reluctantly agree. There is little that Tafia could do with my blood, right? Sera's body isn't here, so she can't revive her love... I think... I hope.

I watch Tafia leave with the vial with my heart in my throat. I hope this wasn't a mistake. I have to trust that my father is correct as he moves his senet pieces on the board.

Taking a breath I curl back up into my robes. Poppy starts to stroke my head again. My gargoyles all gather round, a pile of grey and brown stone. The little male, no, Erra, curls up on the other side of me, surprising me. I start to drift.

My dreams are strange. Usually I dream of Thane and Thelios whispering softly to me, but this time it's Erra's voice I hear.

"That female can't be trusted," he says in a child-like voice. "She will not give the blood to the warriors."

When did Erra start speaking?

"Taffy loves my mama," Poppy says stubbornly.

"She's in pain from losing everything. Your mama knows this, Poppy."

"What do you think she will do?"

"Take it for herself."

There's silence for a beat, then I hear Poppy, "I'm scared, Erra."

"Nothing will hurt you, Poppy. I'm getting stronger everyday."

---

I heave the rock over my head and toss it, smirking when it lands just a slight bit forward from the one my brother threw.

"Mine was heavier," he says casually.

I fucking hate him.

Last night we slept on opposite sides of the cavern, so far apart that we could barely see each other, but I could hear him pleasuring himself and whispering 'princess' at the end.

Motherfucker.

I still don't understand why my Sprite killed us both. Thane insists that she was protecting us, but was she?

And who will protect her if we are stuck here in the pit?

I stride over to the tunnel and start to walk down the path leading out of the pit.

A woozy feeling hits me first. Then, nausea, hard and heavy. I keep going, pushing through the overwhelming feeling of being ill. Choking on vomit as my stomach churns sickeningly, I fall to my knees and crawl as my head starts to pound.

My body is flung backward into the cavern. I lay on the stone floor, gasping and wheezing. My body feels like it's been brutally beaten.

My brother sips water from his jug, his eyes looking me over. He doesn't mock me, though. He's attempted to leave a dozen times, too.

I hear an odd tapping noise and tense. We've been alone here for days. No signs of anything else. No demons attacking, no other souls wandering in, no gods, no warriors.

My brother grabs my shoulder and hauls me to my feet. "Fuck," he swears under his breath. His sword is drawn, muscles tense under rippling scales. I look around blearily, desperately trying to clear my head enough to see this threat.

I feel my brother relax as the voice of an elderly male fills the room.

"Well, it's good to see you two getting along, finally."

I blink at the odd sight. I should be used to this. I should have the advantage of knowing this place better than Thane. I grew up here and he was here for a few months.

But this is something I don't understand. The god, Nateos, is shielding himself in the body of a frail, elderly male. A twinkle of something that looks like wicked mischief is in his unfathomable eyes.

"Where is Mara?" Thane asks, "why are we trapped here, Patriarch?"

I scoff openly at my brother. "That is Death, you dumb fuck."

He just quirks a brow at me, "I'm the dumb one?"

"If you think that's anyone other than the god, Nateos, you sure as fuck are dumb," I sneer. I finally manage to straighten away from him.

"You-"

"Enough," the elderly voice interrupts us. "Like I said, nice to see you two are getting along."

"Why are-"

"Because," the god says, cutting Thane off again, "inside this cavern you are safe from the machinations of the gods. Even my own."

"We don't need to be safe," I grit out. "My family is in the above in the midst of a war and-"

"Why, thank you, Thelios. I was not aware of the danger and suffering my daughter and granddaughter are going through."

I shut my mouth before Nateos shuts it for me. Closing my eyes, I feel Thane grab my shoulder, supporting me.

I hate this. That tone of voice. The disappointment and disapproval in the voice of the only father I've known. I'm not the smart one, I know that, but I am the best warrior.

My rock was not lighter, damnit.

"I am not meant to be here while they are suffering, Nateos," I say quietly.

"No? Let me explain, young males," the elderly male takes his time to limp over to a stone bench. I eye him warily. He is a god with no need for a cane. He is wasting time.

"Patience is a virtue that your brother has mastered much more than you, Thelios," he calls out.

I grit my teeth. I hate how he always knows what I'm thinking.

"Now," he settles and pulls familiar grey robes around himself. It finally hits me that this is the shade of Patriarch Rimon, the male that my Sprite so admired.

"In the above, the Basru are headless, literally," he eyes Thane with a frown. "They are not defending my daughter and granddaughter as they should."

"That's impossible," Thane croaks out. He looks distraught. I feel bad- no, no I don't.

"I'm afraid that it is, Captain. They will not harm her, true, but the influence of the other gods is high in the above. War, that pissant, has been worming into the minds of the Recondites and in doing so is affecting the loyalty towards Mara."

"Send us back," I say bluntly.

"You are not the warrior that you think you are, Thelios," the elderly male says to me quietly.

"I am the best!" I snarl.

"Here, yes. But you are an animal of the Underworld. In the above, you are less than what you are here."

I shift on my feet. My demon stretched out his neck, his talons clicking together. It's true that there are limits on what we can do in the above.

"My daughter is a goddess. She may have chose you two, but you are not gods. You are nothing more than two strong swords and a pile of muscle," he says bluntly.

My brother stiffens at my side. I can feel the predatory focus in him. My own is an echo of the violence seething just below the surface in my twin.

"What do you mean, Patriarch?" Thane asks him carefully.

"I mean my daughter deserves to bond herself to nothing less than a god."

We roar in unison, leaping at the elderly male with fangs bared and claws aimed at his throat.

He disappears into nothing, his mocking laughter all that remains in the cavern.

"What the fuck does that mean?" I shout in my brother's face.

He roars back and all of the aggression we intend for the god is unleashed on each other.

---

Gods, I'm cold. The stone is leaching all of the warmth from my body. I dream of fire and heat, of the city burning down around me.

A feel a small hand pet my cheek and smile. "That tickles, poppet," but when I open my eyes, it's to see bright blues shining down on me solemnly.

"Erra?" I sit up quickly, looking around frantically for Poppy. My racing heart only slows when I see my daughter, fast asleep, curled up on a pile of robes.

The little male, who isn't so little anymore, pulls me to my feet.

"How are you growing so quickly, Erra?" I ask him.

He just looks at me, those blues twinkling in the dark. Tugging my hand, he pulls me into one of the side chambers, deep into the shadows. It is colder in here, away from the fires of the central chamber. I pull my robes around myself more tightly.

"You trust her?" I hear a male voice ask in a hushed whisper.

Looking up, I see the high slit window in the wall and realize that the male who is speaking must be above me on the parapet outside.

A derisive snort, "who can trust a female like that? I trust our god, Asan."

I creep closer to the window. Asan? The same Asan who is occasionally on guard duty at the doors to this prison?

"We are sworn to all the gods," Asan says quietly.

"Yes, but that demon-female under us is a goddess, supposedly." The sarcasm in the other male's voice is hard to miss.

"What if she is, Enlil?"

"She isn't a god, Asan. She's a whore who killed our Captain and his brother. Remember what the lady said?"

"So you trust that female?" Asan sounds skeptical.

I find myself nodding in agreement. Don't trust that female, whomever she is. Probably Inanji, that bitch.

"I don't trust the lady, but I trust Lord Nisjahn when he claims that the demon-female is trying to kill us all."

Nisjahn? Gods, could it be Thane's brother speaking out against me? Is the god they are talking about the father?

"She also said that the death-bitch is trying to steal our souls," the male continues.

Death-bitch? Fuming, I creep even closer to the window.

Asan snorts, "how? Have you seen her? Whatever the Captain and his brother saw in her is gone now. The whore looks closer and closer to death herself, everyday," he jokes meanly.

"You agree with the plan, then?"

I hold my breath. The plan. Yes, tell me your plan. Please.

"Do we need to kill her?" Asan says quietly.

"It's not her death they want. They said we need to trap her in a grave, just like she traps souls."

My mouth drops open. Trap me? A shiver of foreboding dances down my spine. Can they trap me? If Inanji is telling them what to do then I have to assume that they do.

"What about her warriors?"

"They hate her. She killed their Captain, too."

"I just don't know, Enlil. It seems risky. Nisjahn showing up here from the First House, this random bitch hanging off his arm. She's not even loyal to him. I saw Lier fucking her the other day."

I flinch. Disgusting. Although, now I know that this lady is probably Inanji. And she's got her claws sunk into my Basru, apparently.

"I don't think Lord Nisjahn is a normal Tasuri, Asan."

Asan is quiet for a moment. "Who do you think he is?"

"I don't know, but I've never seen a Tasuri's eyes glow red like that."

For the love of Nateos. Red, glowing eyes?

Urto

I suck in a breath as I hear the echo of my father's voice. Urto. The War god. Nisjahn is War, and he has brought an unknown female here, most likely Inanji.

I am trapped here by my worst enemies.

"Did you hear something?" one of the males says.

I freeze, but they do to. For a long moment, silence stretches out. Erra and I remain quiet, our bodies still as stone. Our patience is rewarded when the two males huff and leave.

I look at Erra in the dark. "War is here," I tell him quietly. He nods, far more knowledgeable than a child his age should be.

I turn to see my five gargoyles, eyes glowing in the dark. It's time to start taking matters into my own hands. Sort of.

"Bring me the Recondite named 'Enlil,'" I tell them.

Smirks and grins are my answer. My sweet beasties look demonic in the dark.