Chapter Seven

R egi was not surprised to see his mother at the front of the cavernous room where the exalteds were meeting, but seeing her was still a shock. She was older than the version that lived in his memory. Her black stripes were no longer delineated but instead the edges were graying with age.

She took two steps toward him before stopping near the waterfall of blue crystals darkened by shadows because no issues had been presented for a vote. She turned her attention to Gimi a'Onidba. "I always welcome a conference where we have an exalted of the Lady of logic among us," she said, her warm voice inviting confidence.

Gimi raised her thumbs to her temples for a moment. "I am pleased to meet the great Minait a'Otutha."

Minait smiled, her attention on Gimi even as her gaze flicked toward Regi. "I deserve no more praise than any other Kowri charged with understanding the whims of the gods." She brought her own thumbs to her temples.

"You are too modest. There are few in the Empire who have served as long as you." As Gimi spoke, the other exalteds gathered in corners kept glancing over. Nawr sat in a cluster of older exalteds who perched on low stools, but for once Bekdi wasn't glaring at him. He focused his ire on Gimi and Regi's mother. With her arrival, the balance of power had shifted.

Regi's mother's smile grew more tense before her expression smoothed again. "I am not as interesting as others." She looked at Regi and then at Dante. Dante inched closer to Regi, his heat soaking into Regi's arm.

"My son has been brought home by the gods." She did not address the presence of an outsider in this temple room where only those who spoke for the gods were allowed. Most Kowri would never see this room where exalted had their most important debates and voted on the will of the gods.

Gimi inclined her head in Regi's direction. "The Lady Divashi favors him, and he brings more dilemmas than even my god can sort."

Regi expected his mother to make a snide comment about how Regi had always excelled at making life difficult. Given how they had parted ways, her silence was more kindness than Regi had expected from her.

"Mother," he said, ignoring the slight guttural tone that slipped out at the end of the word. Her eyes grew larger at his unintended noise of distress. Regi rushed to cover his blunder. "I wish to introduce Dante. He is an exalted although there is some debate over whether it would be better to address him as Dante a'Texas or Dante a'Divashi." Regi should feel guilty about using Dante to distract his mother, but desperation led to questionable choices.

Regi's mother studied Dante far more intently than Regi was comfortable with. "I never expected our gods to notice an outsider."

In the corner, Bekdi a'Gavd whispered to Dwill a'Itzpach, no doubt expressing his own complaints. Even if every other exalted in every temple accepted that Divashi guided Dante's hand, Bekdi would still doubt.

"I'm mighty grateful Lady Divashi noticed me," Dante offered a distorted huuman smile that highlighted his teeth. His mother recoiled as though Dante was about to bite. Dante continued, "As I understand it, without divine assistance, dops can be dangerous."

Regi's mother flicked her gaze toward Peaches who was perched on Dante's shoulder. Dante began stroking Peaches, who chirped and chittered at him, clinging to his collar with tiny pink hands. Had Regi's mother done that with her dafs corona, Regi would have assumed her actions were a ploy intended to remind others that she had the attention of a dangerous god. Dante was not the type to play those games, though. Regi rested his hand on Dante's back, offering support.

"Perhaps we can focus on the issue at hand," Gimi suggested.

"Of course." Minait turned to the rest of the room.

"Let us speak concisely," said Bekdi a'Gavd. "We allowed an outsider into our sacred space, and now we have outsiders attacking our technicians and avoiding justice."

Gimi moved to a spot near Nawr. The elderly Kowri had never said he supported Regi, but he had ensured that Regi's detractors never dominated the debates at the cold weather temple. Regi could only hope that his mother would continue that fair treatment now that she served as senior exalted.

"Should we sit?" Dante whispered.

"To do so signals we are incapable of standing for the length of the debate," Regi whispered back. The hair above Dante's eyes rose.

"Regi a'Divashi, I would hear the story of how your goddess found you," his mother proclaimed.

The exalteds quieted. Not even a whisper was audible as Regi took a deep breath. Dante stood too close for decorum, but Regi appreciated the tacit support as he told their story. By the time Regi finished, his mother's nose had turned a peculiar shade of gray. All the newcomers looked shocked and Bekdi's lip was curled in displeasure, likely at the plethora of evidence the gods favored Regi and Dante.

"You make it sound worse than it was." Dante whispered, but this was a debate space. The five-sided room amplified every sound. Dante's skin began to redden the way it had when he'd been sun-damaged—but there was no sun here.

"We can all agree the gods have blessed you with an excess of disaster and opportunity," Gimi offered. "Having a freio appear at the cold season temple is proof enough that Retav himself is moving, and the God of retribution rarely stirs himself unless the temple is required to take note."

Bekdi scoffed. "Gavd has inspired a very fine pebafri to join my ship. I thank my god for his patronage, but I do not assume that Gavd speaks through the animal. We cannot assume that the actions of the sacred animals implies any sort of approval of the outsider as an exalted."

Gimi gave a derisive huff. "Given that asking potential exalteds to demonstrate a relationship with sacred animals is the oldest and most respected way of establishing that one is an exalted, I would argue that it proves exactly that," she said.

"From the journals she left behind, Alb a'Oba knew that she was no longer favored by the Lady Oba because the animals no longer acknowledged her," Nawr said calmly. "So the actions of the animals must be factored into our decisions."

Bekdi laid his ears back. "You are no longer the senior exalted, and none can say what message Retav might want us to take from having his freio attend the temple. At best we can say that he disapproved of Alb's decision to encourage monotheists, and as an exalted of Gavd, I assure you that my great Lord would not approve of any use of his name to denigrate his fellow gods. The moment Alb suggested that Divashi was not to be honored, my god would have worked against her, and Gavd and Retav are often called the brothers. Logically, we can draw no other conclusions about how any god may feel about outsiders."

"Do not lecture me about logic," Gimi growled. "It is clear that both Retav and Divashi watch the outsiders."

"Or," said Bekdi before she could continue, "Retav anticipated the violence of the outsiders given their violent natures and has sent his beast to ensure that those who are wronged by allowing their ship on our planet are allowed to claim retribution."

"For a thrown ship tile?" Nuruti a'Azsa asked. Regi was shocked at his evident disapproval. In the past he had spoken in support of Bekdi, but something had changed. "I rather believe Retav has more significant issues than an outsider with the self-control of a child who has not yet left his Mother's Years."

Bekdi bristled "Perhaps Retav is more concerned about the outsiders' decision to wipe the computer histories rather than be caught spying."

"No," Regi snapped. "You are not allowed to speak untruths."

Bekdi took a step forward, but Dwill a'Itzpach pulled him back. Bekdi glared at him before declaring, "I speak the truth."

"The computer was erased, but you cannot speak to motives. He had ordered his people to delete the computer to avoid experimental data being taken," said Regi. "I promise you that Ter is far too egotistical to steal from others when he sees himself as capable of coming up with far more elegant solutions."

That caused a swell of whispering around the room, and Regi knew Ter's popularity would be at an all-time low. Kowri hated that outsiders would steal technology, but they hated it even more when outsiders suggested Kowri tech wasn't worth stealing.

"Ter is disagreeable and exacting and foul-mouthed and utterly brilliant. We all put up with the first three because of the last." Regi lifted his chin in defiance.

"If you allow us to punish him, we could ameliorate some of his more disagreeable habits," one of the newly arrived exalteds suggested. At least he didn't advocate for execution.

"Ter's a grown man," Dante said, and the whole room fell silent. Even the exalteds who had grown used to his presence in the last month were not accustomed to him speaking up during debate. "It seems a little disrespectful to speak of him like he's a rude child."

"He is disrespectful and dangerous," Dwill said, his fur rising.

"He is disrespectful," Dante said. "I haven't known him long, but he's insulted me more creatively than anyone I've ever known, and I've known some people who had great talent with hyphenated insults. Everything from my asymmetrical hands to my ignorance to my inability to avoid slavery has come up in conversation when I've annoyed him, but I don't expect him to change. Heck, it could be that I aggravate him on purpose because I admire a well-thrown insult. Ignoring that, is it reasonable to get this worked up over a tile getting thrown?"

Minait raised her hand before anyone could speak. The room stilled. "I believe the only issue to debate is the accusation of espionage. The outsider's rudeness is not ours to address. We cannot parent a poorly socialized individual who is not part of our society. If throwing equipment were cause for legal proceedings, I would have stood in judgment of my husband Rel a'Mufvu long ago. I have seen him throw many a malfunctioning communication display at a wall, and he rarely checks to see where I stand first. Then again, I have more sense than to stand near him when he is in that mood. So we focus on espionage."

Bekdi stiffened. By the cant of his ears, he thought this was a victory. However, Gimi appeared smug, which meant she believed this gave their side the advantage. Regi was unsure how to react to his mother's ruling, but the continuing silence suggested no one wished to challenge the ruling. Minait lowered her hand, and everyone accepted that espionage would be the sole charge against Ter.

"Perhaps we can gather information and speak in smaller groups," Minait said.

Again, only silence answered as others accepted her judgment. Nawr offered her a smile and pressed his thumbs to his temples before he pulled himself up and leaned on his rolling bar, allowing it to support his weight as he left the room. Bekdi followed, his long strides overtaking Nawr before the elderly Kowri had reached the door, and Dwill hurried after him.

Regi wished he could judge their support by seeing how many Kowri chased Bekdi, but he didn't know which of the departing exalteds sought out Bekdi and which hoped to have a more private word with Nawr. Either way, most of the exalteds abandoned the room far faster than Regi had anticipated.

Soon he was left with Dante, his mother and a half dozen exalteds he didn't know. Regi stood and approached his mother, unsure whether he should speak to her as an elder of the temple or a mother he had abandoned. He'd often fantasized about what this day would look like. When he laid in his bunk in the Coalition military training facility, he imagined his mother crying over him when he returned. Of course, back then he'd believed return was impossible, so he had never anticipated seeing her again.

She finished speaking to a skeletally thin da-male who bowed low before taking his leave of her, and the other unfamiliar exalteds left with him.

She remained facing the far wall for long seconds before she turned to him. Regi was taller than his mother now. Not by much, but it felt strange. He'd thought he'd finished growing before he'd left the Empire, but no. Either that or his mother was shrinking.

"You have returned," she said in a gentle voice he had only heard her use with mothers in distress.

"With Divashi's guidance, I have," he agreed.

Her gaze snapped to him. "Do I require reminding that you have the attention of a powerful god?"

"I give credit to my goddess for her powerful works," Regi said, mimicking the phrase his mother had so often used to explain why she had to attend some birth to honor Otutha.

She pressed her lips together. Then her gaze slid to Dante. "Provide a formal introduction," she ordered.

Regi could not. He did not know the names of Dante's parents or what gods they might have worshipped, so he could only offer a far more informal, "Minauit a'Othutha, this is Dante a'Divashi."

The tightness in his mother's face suggested that she disapproved.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," said Dante with a quick touch to his forehead.

"‘Maaam'. I do not recognize maaam. What is this word?"

Dante blinked, the longer fur along his eyelids fluttering for a moment. "Um, ma'am is a term of respect."

"For whom? Who would you refer to as ma'am?"

"Older women." Dante glanced over to Regi, concern in his gaze.

Before Regi could explain the problem, his mother's hackles were raised. "So, you have demoted me from an exalted of Otutha and elder of the temple to the status of a common woman? Is that how Regi a'Divashi has encouraged you to address me?" She strode toward the exit, her steps jarring enough to make the tails of her shirt twist and jerk.

Dante chased after her. "I mean no disrespect—"

"I feel the disrespect regardless."

They had already left the private space, but Regi didn't wish to have this conversation in front of petitioners on their knees in front of niches as they left offerings for Rvion in the hopes of easing nightmares.

He darted around her and stopped. "Mother, he is from another world and another culture. Allowances must be made."

She considered Dante with a coldness in her gaze he hadn't expected. His mother was difficult, but she had never looked on another with disdain. Perhaps more than her gray hair had changed. "He is on a Kowri world speaking to a Kowri exalted. Any allowances should be made in our favor, not the favor of an outsider." She took a deep breath. "I will respect his position in the temple because Divashi herself has made her attention known and even Retav is moving, but I will not be addressed as ‘ma'am.' I will not endure the dishonor, or did you believe that having given birth to you I would support any madness you proposed?" She turned her ire on Regi.

"I assumed that you would put the temple and your goddess first and that I would never be a priority." Regi spotted his fathers walking toward them. Pertin and Rel appeared older as well, although neither was as gray as his mother. Still, age had caught up with them. Pertin had lost some of the muscle that had made him such an imposing figure in Regi's youth. Where Rel's hands had once danced over controls with the same confidence as Ter's, he appeared nervous and his hands fluttered until Pertin caught one and held it tightly as they strode down the hallway and through arches heavy with live vines.

Regi felt an irrational frustration bloom in his chest. They had aged; no doubt being put second in their own marriage had contributed to that. He turned back to his mother. "I would not expect you to value me any more than I would expect you to prioritize your husbands."

Her ears flattened and Dante took a quick step backward.

"Regi a'Poque de Minait," Rel snapped with disapproval sharp enough to cut. He pulled his hand free from his husband and moved to his wife's side.

Guilt and frustration vied in Regi's chest. Frustration won. "Of course you will side with her, no matter that her family will never mean as much as her precious temple," Regi said. He strained to keep his own ears forward.

"We are all emotional and should avoid causing more offense," said Pertin loudly. "And perhaps we can avoid offending Divashi, who has claimed Regi in a way that Poque never did," he said as he rested a hand on his husband's shoulder. "Greetings, Dante a'Divashi. I am pleased to meet you. I am Pertin a'Qis and this is Rel a'Mufvu. I see you have met our wife and perhaps seen how much Regi takes after his mother."

Regi huffed. He was nothing like his mother. Were Divashi to offer him a choice between service to her will or saving his crew, he would choose his crew. The gods were capricious and while they improved the lives of Kowri as a whole, he had no illusion that they would care for his individual happiness or the safety of the people he cared for.

"Nice to meet you," Dante said. He'd taken yet another step backward. "I should go find Vk. She should have our pebafri out front."

"Do you ride?" Pertin asked. "I find the animals difficult to manage."

Dante looked about as though expecting an ambush. "I grew up riding horses, which are a bit like pebafri in that they need a strong hand to manage them. I'll see you out front," Dante told Regi before hurrying away. His hips were remarkably flexible and Regi was fascinated by the posterior view of a fleeing Dante.

Once Dante had disappeared around a bend in the corridor, Regi narrowed his eyes at his mother. "He attempted to show you respect."

"Attempting a task is not the same as succeeding at it. It is enough that I am considering the plight of this dangerous engineer."

"Ter is not dangerous, only frustrated with the ineptitude of others."

"Yet he refuses to accept the interference of the gods, which is negligent and ignorant," she snapped.

"Minait," Pertin whispered. He had always been the peacekeeper in the family.

Regi hated seeing his parents fall into the old roles. He had been gone for years, yet Rel glared at Regi in defense of his wife and Pertin was trying to soothe the raised hackles.

"All sentient creatures believe what they have evidence for, and on other planets, what they called gods were fictional constructs used to help primitive people understand natural phenomena. If all other planets have one definition of god, we cannot fault them for believing that reasonable."

"If the story you just told is correct," Minait said, pausing to study Regi, "then the outsiders have been provided an excess of evidence to change their minds, just as the exalteds were provided evidence that Dante is one of Divashi's favorites. They changed their opinion."

Regi gritted his teeth. The exalteds had not changed their minds—or most of them had not, anyway. During the debate, too many wished to continue the policy of driving away or killing outsiders who violated the Empire's boundary. At best they had created a new category in their minds. They now divided sapient creatures into Kowri, outsiders, and Dante. That was not the same as accepting new evidence. However, he could not shout such truths. His parents would not hear them.

"Outsiders and Kowri alike are slow to accept new truths," he said.

Pertin interrupted him. "Is that the most important topic to discuss? Regi, I have missed you greatly." Pertin opened his arms.

For one second, Regi maintained his distance. He didn't want to be folded back into a family that required him to believe as they did. But he had missed Pertin's warmth more than any other part of his childhood. He missed sitting on a bench and sanding wood smooth while his da-father carved complex figures and explained how to feel the hardening of the woods around the knots. He ached for his father's touch, and that drove him into Pertin's arms.

Regi held his da-father, breathing in the scent of wood and ash that always meant home to him.

"Regi," his mother whispered. Regi turned, and his mother's expression had softened. "I have worried. I have spent so long worrying."

Pertin let go and Regi took a step back and tried to center himself. "I have worked hard to earn a good position in the Coalition. I have a rank equivalent to Bekdi a'Gavd, and I have responsibilities to my crew based on my position, even before my goddess guided my Coalition ship to an Empire world."

She sighed.

Rel stepped closer and wrapped a hand around the back of Regi's neck. "You cannot allow yourself even one step backward, even now. I am so grateful you are safe. Like your mother, I worried every day." He pulled Regi closer, and Regi hugged his di-father, shocked to realize that he was larger than his father now. Pertin smiled at them, and Regi felt his mother's hands on his shoulders. It felt right.

But it wasn't. His mother was not his ally in the debate room, and he could not allow himself to forget that. He had an obligation to Ter, even if he wished he could return to being Regi de Minait que Pertin e Rel, a child too young to claim any god.

"Regi!" a panicked voice yelled. Regi pulled back to see Dante sprinting toward him. "Vk! Vk is gone! They say Bekdi took her!" he yelled.

Regi's fur stood on end. "Who said this?" He jerked away from his parents.

"A Kowri who had come to give offerings to Ginger. He told me."

Regi took a fraction of a second to translate Ginger to Jinja–goddess of the unknowable and a favorite of the Growing season temple. A devotee of Jinja would not lie. Ever. Not for Bekdi or even Gavd himself.

Dante's breathing was so heavy that his upper body strained and surged with the effort to pull in enough oxygen.

"Stay here," Regi ordered. The temple would be the safest place for him. Meanwhile, he needed to have words with Bekdi. Many unpleasant and loud words. He strode down the corridor, intent on reclaiming his crewmate and friend. And if his mother and her xenophobic ways stood in his path, he would go through her the same as he planned to go through Bekdi.