Chapter Sixteen
The temple’s familiarbroad, arched entrance sent shivers up Regi’s arms. His family had lived in the shadow of the temple, although the one from his childhood was verdant green and not icy, pale blue. One of the two distant temples visible over the tops of the town would match his memory better than this structure dedicated to the cold weather gods with its inlaid blue stone and white friezes. This temple was old enough to have a cobblestone walk, and the exalted’s chair bumped over the uneven surface. Two temple devotees stood just inside the arch, watching with silent disapproval.
Nawr led them past the frowning guards and into an audience room. The wide space looked empty compared to the crowded Coalition ships Regi had grown used to.
“Regi a’Poque de Minait a’Otutha qee Pertin e Rel. I did not expect to see you seeking the temple,” Nawr said as he moved to a padded bench behind an elaborately carved desk with legs that mimicked an ior’s thick legs, and had carvings that mimicked the round forms of poisonous dop. Along the edge, tiny carved gibuks marched in a line. One bite would itch, but they lived in colonies that numbered in the thousands, and a single colony could kill a prebafri or even an ift. Regi did not see the winged frim of Poque represented anywhere on the desk. Very few Kowri loved his goddess anymore.
“I have not needed the temple until now.”
“I know that the exalted of Gavd who escorted you to the Empire’s border during your youth explained that you were abandoning your obligation to the temple and so abandoning the protection of it.”
Regi had practiced this speech since they had turned the ship toward Empire space. “Yes, but apparently my goddess was not as willing to abandon me.”
Nawr ran his palms over the smooth desktop. “You seem sure of that.”
“I have no doubt that the energy signature of the gods is on me, or I would not have made it to this meeting.”
He sat straighter. “Surely you do not assume that the devotees of Gavd would kill a Kowri.”
“No, nor do I assume you would have allowed me into the temple without evidence that I was welcome,” Regi countered. So many elders had explained in detail the spiritual privations Regi would suffer if he left the Empire. They all said he would regret his impulsiveness if he chose to leave. Regi had not understood how a decision made over the course of two years could be impulsive, but that had been only one of the many mysteries he had not understood at that age. “I also assume you have scanned the two crew members with me by the ship, and I assume from the captain’s frown that they are also showing signs of contact with a god.”
For awkward minutes, Nawr did not answer. He pressed his fingertips to the top of the desk and considered Regi with all the warmth of a gibuk bug. “You appear certain that they have been touched. I assure you, no god has ever taken note of any species outside Kowri space. It was your goddess who stopped us at what is now the boundary of Coalition space and defined what would belong to Kowri and which parts of space the gods themselves forsook.”
“And yet, you have found that the gods have touched at least one of those two. Poque is not constrained by any map or border. She is the goddess of wandering, and she may wander wherever she likes. Surely you don't think you can tell her what she may or may not do.”
“I would never presume to question a god.” Nawr snapped. He took several deep breaths. “Gods are above questioning. Recalcitrant Kowri are not.”
Regi nodded. That was confirmation. If Ter ever learned that a being of incredible power had sabotaged his ship, he would likely declare a vendetta against all gods.
“What do you expect of the temple?” Nawr asked.
“Answers.”
“I have yet to understand the question you are asking.”
Regi studied the room. This was a temple for the cold weather gods. No Kowri would build a temple only to Gavd any more than Temilta or Otutha. To exalt one god over all others was disrespectful, so the temples were built to the seasons, but still, there was no sign of Poque in this room. Even Divashi, the goddess of poison and disorder had her sacred dop carved onto the desk, but the great winged frim were not carved into the doors with the pebafri or on the frieze with the mevi or the ib. Kowri didn’t want to explore. They wanted the ability to predict life, and Poque had disrupted that by driving Kowri into unfamiliar territory.
As a young man, Regi had condemned the desire for consistency as cowardice. Now he better understood his people’s desire for security. “I am the son of my mother.” He stopped, not sure he had the strength to continue down this path.
“She is a powerful voice among the exalted. She is much loved of her goddess.”
Regi nodded. No one who had not lived in their home could understand how much Otutha loved his mother. “That is why I recognize the love of a god.”
For long seconds, Nawr stared at him, his expression twisting with horror. “You do not claim the role of exalted for yourself.”
“It is not a role I want,” Regi said. He had grown up desperately wishing that his family could turn invisible to the gods because every moment of his life had been stained by his mother's position. He had never had her to himself, just as his fathers had never had a wife to themselves. All of them had to share the exalted Minait with Otutha. They'd never been free to choose careers that might stain the great name of Minait a’Otutha. They’d never had a vacation free of her touch or made a single decision without the goddess looming over them. All of them had been trapped by the blessing of a goddess.
