Thinking about Lysimache and her crimes led me to thoughts about the eye and what had happened when I tried to fight Artemisia.
“When I faced Artemisia, why couldn’t I use my aspect? What happened?”
“My son’s iron soil negates my magic. And mine does the same—Artemisia has taken my eye, but my son has no dominion over it. Hecan’t draw power from it and neither can his followers, especially if they stand on the soil.”
The thing that gave them power prevented them from accessing a greater one. At least I could enjoy my afterlife knowing that Artemisia wouldn’t ever be able to use the eye.
“Why aren’t you asking me the question you most want to ask?” she inquired.
I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. “Which question?”
“The vow you took to me to remain celibate. You want to know whether that is something that I require for my followers.”
“Yes. Is it?”
“I would never deny any of my daughters the opportunity to love and to have a family of their own. It was always permitted that priestesses and acolytes could marry if they wished for it. Lysimache changed it to make sure that no one would fall pregnant.”
I recalled Lysimache’s words to me when I had questioned her. “Because she couldn’t risk them ...”
Pregnant. She couldn’t risk them getting pregnant. Why would that matter?
The goddess answered my question. “Lysimache was pregnant when she cursed Locris. She used the power her baby gave her. She miscarried soon after, and she connected the two events. They had nothing to do with one another. It was only a sad coincidence. But she believed that the only way to restore Locris would be with someone who was pregnant. It might make it a bit easier, but for the right person, it would be unnecessary. The chosen savior has the power within her to bring the land back all by herself. You’ll just need the right words.”
“Which are?” I prompted, hopefully.
“You already know them, and in this I cannot intervene.”
Goddess save me from the gods and their rules.
She laughed and said, “I heard that.”
I could feel my skin flushing. “So I could have ... broken my vow and still remained worthy.”
“I would not hold you to a vow that I did not require of you. It was not something I asked for, and you gave it against your will. I would have my daughters find love and joy in relationships, if that is their desire.”
Which meant that I had held back for no reason. What a waste.
“Your worthiness was based solely on your heart. Your determination, your bravery, your perseverance, your kindness,” she added, rubbing salt in that particular wound.
“Does that mean I wouldn’t have had to keep my promise to you to reopen the temple in Locris?”
“That is different. Promises you freely offer are serious things,” she said. “You would want me to keep my promises to you, so I would expect you to do the same. But there was a way that you could have had everything. A different path to keep your promise.”
“And you’re not going to tell me what that is.”
Her lips twitched. “Correct.”
It didn’t matter now. I was dead. Even though I loved Xander, I might not have been allowed to have a life with him because of that promise. It made the love we had shared almost seem pointless.
The goddess’s mouth turned down slightly. “Love is never pointless. It is always the answer. It heals all, restores all, binds all. It is the greatest of gifts and you do not need to do anything to earn it. I give it to you freely because you are mine. And you have given your love to so many.”
“Not soon enough. I should have told him earlier.”
“He knows how much you love him. And you showed that love in the most meaningful way—you laid down your life for his.”
“I would do it again,” I told her. “A thousand times over.”
Her sweet smile returned. “I know you would. I know the woman you are, and you are so precious to me.”
