“Will my father be healed from his sickness?”
“Should I take revenge on those who have wronged me?”
“Will I ever find love?”
With each question, the palanquin paused for a moment before leaning forward for yes, or backward for no. After receiving their answer, the petitioners bowed their heads in thanks and retreated back into the crowd.
The questions seemed endless, despite the limited number of people with permission to ask them. It wasn’t surprising, given that poverty and hunger loomed over Bubas like a shadow, but it took what felt like an eternity for the goddess to make her way down the street to where Neff and her parents were waiting. Her father watched the position of the sun, growing increasingly impatient.
Finally, he said, “We’ve seen the goddess. People up the road are starting to leave. We should get to our stall before we lose the whole morning.”
“Not yet,” Neff pleaded. “Just a bit longer.”
Her father huffed in exasperation but blessedly said no more.
Neff turned back to the street—and just in time. Bast’s retinue was right on top of them. She’d been so eager for this moment, but now that it was upon her, Neff felt a sudden terror at stepping out into the street.
It was just a dream.
The procession passed in front of her, the sound of the high priestess’s sistrum clanging in her ears.
It was just a dream.
A moment more, and her opportunity would be lost.
Neff had all but decided to abandon her plan when a breeze ruffled her hair, carrying the smell of honey, smoke, and wine. Neff closed her eyes, intoxicated, and when she opened them again—
She gasped. She had stepped out right in front of the highpriestess.
The woman regarded her with dark imperious eyes.
All around her, the crowd murmured in surprise.
“Sweetheart?” she heard her mother say, quiet and afraid. “What are you doing?”
“Get back here!” her father barked, and Neff felt his hand on her arm. But before he could pull her back, the high priestess spoke.
“You have a question for the goddess, child?” Her voice was velvet soft, like a purr.
Neff swallowed. “Yes, High Priestess. I didn’t get permission to ask, but…” She caught a glimpse of Henhen and Istara watching her, open-mouthed. Gathering her courage, Neff balled her hands into fists. “But I think it’s important.”
After a moment of consideration, the priestess nodded and swept an arm toward the palanquin. “You may approach the sacred boat.”
Neff almost collapsed with relief.
She stood before the goddess, her body covered in a cold sweat. She could feel the weight of the crowd’s stare.
“My petition is not a yes or no question,” she said. “Is that all right?”
The high priestess cocked her head, curious. “You may ask whatever you want, child. Whether you are given an answer?” She shrugged. “That is up to Bast to decide.”
Neff nodded and turned to face the canopy. She clasped her hands in supplication, both out of respect and to stop them from shaking. Sinking to her knees, she began to speak.
“Praise to you…” She paused, ashamed of the weakness in her voice. “Praise to you,” she began again, a little stronger. “O Bast, Great Lady of Bubas, beloved mistress of pleasure and secrets. Please hear my prayer. Every night, I have a dream. The samedream. I know it’s important, but I can never recall what it’s about. I’m sorry if it’s too much to ask, but I thought maybe you could help me remember.” Her whole body tensed as she waited for an answer.
Nothing happened.
People in the crowd shifted uncomfortably. Out of the corner of her eye, Neff saw her father’s face, pink with anger and embarrassment.
