Kalona's Fall (House of Night Novellas #4)(2)

“Where are the other children of the Divine?” Mother Earth’s voice was the sloughing of hawthorn leaves in the grove.

The Goddess lifted her shoulder in a gesture that Mother Earth found surprisingly childlike. “They have gone.”

The ground trembled in response to Mother Earth’s surprise. “All? How could they all have gone?”

“They said they were bored and became restless.” The Goddess shook her head and her long, fair hair glistened in the moonlight, changing from blond to silver.

The leaves of the grove trees shivered. “So like their father,” Mother Earth whispered sadly. “Why must they all leave me?”

The Goddess sighed. “I do not know. I do not understand how they could ever be bored here.” She stroked the wildcat that had curled lovingly around her feet. “There is something new every day. Imagine, just yesterday I did not know this wonderful creature existed.”

Pleased, Mother Earth warmed the breeze that carried her voice from the grove. “You must have been formed from one of his more tangible dreams.”

“Yes,” the Goddess said wistfully. “I just wish more of his dreams had been like me. It is…” She hesitated, as if unable to decide whether to continue.

“It is what?” Mother Earth prompted.

“Lonely,” she admitted softly. “Especially when there are no other beings like me.”

Mother Earth felt the Goddess’s sadness and, taking pity on her, she called awake the grove, where from the moss and dirt, leaves and flowers, Mother Earth took tangible form.

The Goddess smiled at her. As beautiful as the gossamer wings of a butterfly, Mother Earth smiled back, asking, “What is your name, Goddess?”

“Humans are calling me many names.” The Goddess gave the wildcat a final caress and then straightened, spreading wide her arms. “Some call me Sarasvati.” Her body shifted in form, changing skin from light to dark, hair from fair as moonlight to the black of a raven’s wing as another pair of slender arms suddenly appeared. Still smiling, the Goddess continued, “Nidaba is the name some of your children whisper in their prayers.” Again, the Goddess shifted form, growing wings and replacing her feet with talons. “And not far from this very island, they have begun to know me as Breo-saighead, bringer of fire and justice.” With that pronouncement, the Goddess took the form of a beautiful woman with hair the color of flame, her white skin decorated by brilliant sapphire tribal tattoos.

Delighted, Mother Earth clapped her hands, and sleeping butterflies awoke to cavort around her. “But I know you! I have watched these Goddesses for countless ages. You are kind and benevolent and just.”

“I am. I am also alone.” The fire faded from her hair, and once again the Goddess looked like a fair-haired maiden, innocent and sweetly sad.

“Which name would you have me call you?” Mother Earth asked, wanting to distract her from her melancholy.

The Goddess considered, and then answered, rather shyly, “There is one name I like more than the others—Nyx. It reminds me of night, and I do so love the peacefulness of night and the beauty of moonlight.”

As she spoke, Mother Earth saw that her form changed only slightly. She still looked young, but she had lifted her chin, smiling up at the moon, delicate, filigreed tattooing glowed silver and sapphire over her skin making her look mysterious and incredibly beautiful. With hardly a thought, Mother Earth called magick from the night sky and scattered it on the Goddess, so that it settled upon her as a headdress of glistening moonlight and stars.

“Oh! That is lovely! May I keep it?” the Goddess said, twirling around girlishly.

“You are lovely Nyx. And you may keep it on one condition—that instead of following the others, you do not desert my children and me.”

Nyx went very still. Her girlishness fell away from her until Mother Earth was looking into the eyes of a mature Goddess who wore wisdom and power as surely as she did the mantle of moonlight. When Nyx spoke, Mother Earth heard within her voice the power of Divinity. “You need not tether me here with bribery. Such tricks are not worthy of you. When you created humans I vowed that I would watch over them and make a place for that within them that remains eternal and Divine. I never break a vow.”

Slowly, Mother Earth bowed her head to Nyx. “Forgive me.”

“With all my heart,” Nyx said.

Mother Earth stood, and with the rustle of wind sweeping through a meadow of tall grass, she moved to Nyx and cupped the Goddess’s face between her verdurous palms. “And now I freely give to you a gift—one that is worthy of us both. Henceforth from this night, I grant you command over my five elements: Air, Fire, Water, Earth, and Spirit. Call on any, and they shall answer, doing your bidding eternally.” Mother Earth bent and kissed Nyx on her forehead.

From the center of Nyx’s forehead a perfect crescent moon appeared, and on either side of her face, spreading down the Goddess’s beautiful body, a filigree pattern appeared, bearing signs and symbols that represented all five elements.

Nyx lifted her slender arm, studying her new Marks in appreciation. “That is as special as are each of the elements. I will treasure your gift eternally.” Nyx’s girlish smile returned. “For that I also thank you with all my heart. After tonight I do not feel so alone, nor so frightened.”

“Frightened? But whatever could frighten an immortal created by the Divine?”