Our female is a distraction... from the duties we must perform in her own honor.

My son is a reminder of those duties. I had a wife who is now an undead slave to Inanji; undead because she was touched by my female's magic. My son, also undead, a blood-drinker like my female, is a living reminder of past mistakes.

"My daughter seems happier today," the Death god gives me a look of warning. "It is good that you are now gods and deserving of her." Unease stirs in me. He holds the power of Death in his hands and suddenly everything becomes clear.

Nateos positioned my brother and I to become War. I can't understand how he did it, how he knew that Urto would do what he did, but now we are War and he is satisfied.

It was foolish to ever think that Death would ever lose to War. Nateos manipulated us all.

"Why?" I murmur.

"What wouldn't a father give his daughter?" he asks. "A home, a family, companions, even, if she wants, a husband... or two."

"And if you deemed us unworthy?" I ask him.

Nateos shrugs, "there is a city of males just outside these walls. Souls upon souls of great capability. Warriors, scholars, wise and clever, strong and kind. Yet, my daughter chose you two, again and again."

"She will never want for our love again," I tell him.

He nods. "I sincerely hope not. For your sakes."

He walks away, back to his own wife. Our Heart is with them, speaking with her mother. Thelios is sitting on the floor with Poppy, playing dolls with Mishu and Mushu.

I straighten my spine. It's time to talk. "Hello, son," I greet Erra as calmly as I can.

"Father," he says coldly.

My molars grind together a little. "You are well?" I force the question to pass my lips.

"Poppy is happy," he replies as if that answers everything. I suppose for him, it does. It's clear that Poppy is all my son cares about.

"If you or Poppy needs anything, you will tell me," I order.

"I will," he says.

"Good," I nod.

He nods back.

It's a good conversation.

---

I let my father take my hand and pull me away from mama and Poppy. We leave the suite to go outside into a mourning garden in full bloom. I smile and touch the white petals of the lily growing near our path. Yellow pollen dances through air still sharp with the scent of the recent rain. When I touch the flower, a pink bead of water rolls over it's petals before splashing to the ground.

"It doesn't rain in the Underworld," my father remarks suddenly.

I look at him askance. It rained earlier. He just smiles and kisses my forehead.

His face is serious, but so are my thoughts.

"Ask, my daughter. You must have questions."

"Why let Urto do this? Why hurt them? Alter them? What has been done can't be undone," I say softly. Being at a distance from Thane and Thelios, I can see the bond stretch and pull, unfurling like the banner of a conquering army. The black fingers, the remnants of Urto's bond, are linked together, a web of unity that makes my two bonds appear as just one. What's more, the happy glow of the original bonds are bleeding into the black, becoming forever linked.

"I am an ancient god, my daughter. I fell in love with a mortal soul. Every so often your mama will leave me and go to the above. It is what mortal souls do. I will live in fear and torment that she will leave me, that she will have a happy life with the male whose soul she is bound to and refuse to once again become my queen. I didn't want that for you." He shakes his head, staring into the distance. "You are like me, daughter, in so many ways. We love completely, and mourn terribly. I will not sit back and do nothing as my daughter suffers."

"I did suffer," I point out, a little touchy.

"Yes, and I did what I could do. To be honest, I never thought that either of those two were good enough for you."

"And now?"

He shrugs. "They have proven themselves, no? They return to you, they refuse to leave, in fact, even when their lives would be easier if they leave."

"Don't hurt them again, father, please," I say. I know he has punished my males. I see the look of wariness, of remembered fear when the twins look at him.

"As long as they are good to you, then I will be good to them."

I look at him thoughtfully. "How is it that you accept Poppy so easily, but not your own son?"

He looks startled a bit, then sad. "I know, my daughter, about Lier's bond."

I suck in a surprised breath. He gives me a wry smile, "did you think your old father was blind, too?"

I laugh a little, shaking my head. "How? Lier doesn't think that anyone knows."

"Inanji. I hid him, hid the knowledge of having a demi-god son at all. She still doesn't know that he is mine. She rejected him, when he was only a young child of four. He wasn't good enough," disdain flits across his face. "You were born just a couple of years later and there were prophecies of you claiming your males as soon as you took your first breath. You are a goddess, yet you are willing to be with your mortal male souls."

"I realized... if I acknowledged my son, then Inanji would take him as her male just because of who he is. So I never allowed anyone to know about him."

"May I tell him that?" I ask.

"You may."

I smile brightly. I know that my father and brother aren't quite ready to have a relationship, but maybe I can at least make peace between them.

"Now, there is a decision you must make, daughter. A friend of yours has made an unusual request." My father kisses my forehead again, squeezes my hand, and leaves the garden.

I look up and feel my heart start to pound. Anger colors my vision, but I hold tight to my composure. Harku didn't dress me up nicely for nothing.

"Sera," I say flatly.

"Mar - Lady Mara," she stumbles over the greeting, nervous. There are others standing with her, but I don't see Tafia. I bite my lip, a little worried. Tafia had taken the vial of my blood. What ill purpose could it be used for?

Just like that, thoughts of the above come rushing back. The Underworld is a different world, a different life, but I never got to see if my efforts in the above were successful. Did I truly destroy Tmari and all of the undead with it? Were there any survivors? What about my Postites, Esa, the Acera down in the south? I left the above and came here without having answers to any of those questions.

Now Sera, of all souls, is standing in front of me.

"Tafia is in the Fields of the Lost," Sera blurts out. "Please, will you find her soul?"

I jolt a little. Tafia is a Lost one? That's when I truly take in Sera's appearance. She is dressed in a soft green dress with gold thread, her hair plaited and curled with matching thread to highlight the dark color. She is wearing white pearls that, while elegant, don't match her clothing. It's now obvious that Sera has put on her best this morning, just like the other petitioners waiting in line. I swallow. There are a lot of souls in that line, and it's early in the day. How many are here to ask me to rescue their loved ones from beyond the Gate?

"Tafia has broken covenant with the Lady Grief, herself," I hear a voice speak up coldly. I turn to see Ililie and Grey approaching.

Grey speaks again. "She has stolen from the Princess and harmed her in the above. Just as you did." Grey's eyes are hard on Sera as he moves to stand next to me.

"There are other souls, there, as well," a male standing behind her says. There is a desperation in his voice. A chord of lavendar stretches between Sera and him. A familial bond, but one that is damaged. Yet, they are here together.

One of the females coughs. Mushu is blowing pollen and petals into the faces of the unwanted visitors. Here in the Underworld everyone can see my gargoyles, so no tying laces together. They still steal things, though.

"You were not given permission to speak to the Princess," Nasir adds his voice to the wall of defenders protecting me as if Sera's family is about to leap at me.

It is doubtful that they would get very far. Gired is hovering, just to my left, as usual, while his companion, Rasted, is closer to Sera, baring his teeth in a grimace that she can't see. Unlike my gargoyles, my assassins are always hidden from all other eyes but mine.

I decide to cut this visit short before Rasted bites Sera. "I will consider your request, Sera. You may go."

I spin around without looking at her again. She tries to say something else, but I ignore it. Sera has created her own mess. And, if I were being honest, so did Tafia. Of course, I had a hand in it, and Taffy-cat reminds me of that everyday. If I rescue Tafia then it will be because I decide to, not because Sera asked.

"Is there another garden, Grey? One where I can be alone?"

He shares a look with the other Basru. "Yes, but we will guard you from afar, alright?" he says to me.

I nod. I don't bother telling him that with two cats, two assassins, and Mishu and Mushu, I will hardly truly be alone. I glance over at Mishu, who is eating flowers.

Maybe I can't depend on my gargoyles as a defense, but I'm not alone.

"In here, My Lady," Grey shows my a small space off of the mourning garden. An ornate gate separates it. Inside are roses. Dozens of them, the vines crawling up the walls of the Palace, twining around columns and benches. It is a smaller space, perfectly square, but very pretty. In the center is a small round fountain of dark grey stone the height of my waist, with sacred water splashing gently into the bowl.

I dip my hands into the water, feeling the familiar essence of oils from the River Crone. When I touch the petals of the nearest rose, the bud closes up tight.

I gasp, then laugh, going to another.

"Careful, child. These are Napthia roses. One touch of their thorns and you will find yourself napping."

I spin around, but find the garden empty of everyone but Belen-cat. I look back at the cat curiously.

"Ah, child," my cat melts. Unlike the shifters in the above, there is no breaking of bones and rending of flesh, his fur and body simply changes without fanfare into that of an older male Acera.

I look into his eyes. One is brown, one is blue. I have seen that only once, on a little girl from the Fifth House, but her eyes were green and blue and the result was softer. His eyes are startling, the difference between the colors striking. I look at other things about my cat. This male's hair is all white, no hint of what the color may have been, although I have a feeling that it wasn't black like my cat. He is aged, but his body looks strong, youthful even.

He has the unmistakable presence of a god. Which means...

"Are you Mardu?" I ask in a hushed whisper.

He smiles, the quirking of his lips somehow sad. "I am, child. But you will call me 'Uncle.'"

I nod. I'm not entirely comfortable calling the father god anything but Belen-cat and I'm definitely not happy to find out that my big male kitty is a powerful god in disguise.

He chuckles a little at my face. "Not happy with me?"

I narrow my eyes. "Why disguise yourself?"

He shrugs. "I prefer to be in other forms. Unrecognizable ones. You, my niece, are about to discover just how demanding souls can be."

"So you pretend to be a cat because you don't want to work?" I ask in disbelief.

He bobs me on the nose. "Never call your Uncle 'lazy,' child."

He settles on a bench, the roses wilting and curling away from him as if shyly hiding their faces.

"I will tell you a few stories, eh?" he pats the seat next to him.

I sit gingerly, not sure what makes me more nervous, the roses or 'Uncle' Mardu.

"For a long time it was just four of us," he begins, "myself, your father, Pir, and Enlal." I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I know all this. I jump when Uncle bops my nose again. "Pay attention, and mind the roses," he says.

I nod and sit up straighter.

He sighs and adjusts a little, turning to me. "Your father was very unhappy, here in his kingdom. He was not, I think, a god that you would recognize. He enjoyed wielding his power, and was angry at the dark duties fate had given him."

I edge closer, fascinated. "Meanwhile, the rest of us ignored his pain and concentrated in the above, creating and enjoying our existence. But, your father was here, creating a shadow world, a mimicry of the above."

I frown and glance around. The Underworld is similar to the above, true, but it has its own beauty.

"What you see was created for your mother, then for you, as well. My brother as a god not in love is a frightening male, Niece."

I nod to show I understand, but I can't really picture my father as all that scary.

Mardu chuckles and bops my nose... again. "When Inanji came into being... ah... that was the first time we realized how sorrowful your father was. She was a light, a shining beacon of hope for him and a joy for us all. We lavished gifts on her. She's greedy. Maybe we made her so, maybe she was always that way," he muses. "We can all be greedy."

"Then, Urto was born. A dark soul, as well, and because he is War we all believed him to be evil. Not one of us showed him any affection we gave to Inanji so freely."

My heart hurts for Urto.

Mardu gives me a sad smile. "He always thought himself incapable of being loved. He was left vulnerable to Inanji. If Love herself could love him, then he was worthy, you see?"

"That's when it became clear that Inanji was just as soulless and capable of evil as the rest of us. But, your father refused to see it at first. It caused problems between your father and Urto."

"Then, you came. My goodness, child. Of all the things I've seen, a demi-goddess with fire and love in her soul was not something I expected. Especially after Inanji and Urto."

Mardu is quiet for a moment, lost in his memories. When he began to speak again his words are halting. "You were different, my Niece. And I watched Urto become fascinated. I watched as Inanji's hate boil over."

"But your bonds with your Fated males is what truly was fascinating. Inanji lost her damn mind when she realized that you chose your own males," he chortles. I get the feeling that he doesn't like Inanji very much.

He takes my hand. "We are a family, Niece. Inanji, I fear that she has left us. Urto, who never truly felt as if he belonged, now does because of the bonds with you."

"You have something planned," I say to him. I recognize the gleam in his eyes. It's the same look that I see in my father's eyes just before something dramatic happens.

"The world is imbalanced. Ultimately, that is the duty of the gods, to keep the world in balance. The Underworld is thriving, Niece. But, the above..." he sighs. "Love must be balanced. Especially when Grief and War are so powerful."

I squirm a little. "Do you think that Pir and Enlal are angry at me and my males?"

He pats my hand, but doesn't answer at first. "Enlal has more pity for Inanji than the rest of us. And, what happened with Urto is very upsetting for her. She liked the pissant."

"Oh," I shift on the bench again. Enlal makes me uncomfortable. "And, Pir?"

"Pir has gone back to his oceans," he says nonchalantly.

So, Pir is gone. Enlal is 'upset,' whatever will come from that will come. "What should I do with Inanji?" I ask him in a hushed voice. I can't forget the last image of a wrathful, jealous goddess watching Urto rip himself in two. She won't be content to fade away.

"One god is now two..." he muses. "And the above is now torn into more pieces than War," he guffaws, slapping his knee. "No, I don't think I will give you any more ideas, Niece. It is much more entertaining this way."

I like Mardu more as a cat.

"Well, Niece, I leave you with your gods. A wedding would be nice." He bops me on the nose for a fourth time, ignoring my look of shock.

A wedding?

"But..." I sputter, only now I'm talking to Belen-cat again. "I'm not changing your name," I tell the animal.

He just purrs and rubs his head under my chin.