Divine Encounters

CHAPTER TWO

“I’m Divine.” She held out her hand but pulled it back, wiping the sticky remains of her frothy drink on the soft and stretchy fabric of her pants before reaching again to shake Saph’s hand.

“A lovely name. I imagine your parents pride themselves on choosing a moniker that matches your attributes. This way, darling.”

Sweat beaded on Divine’s neck and she fought to keep from plucking the front of her shirt in a makeshift fan. She glanced around for the source of the heat, but nothing had changed, and the fireplace was empty. She stood, removing her knee-length jacket and draping it over her arm before following Saph.

“It’s just what I go by,” she clarified. Divine wasn’t really her name, but she had gone by it for twenty or so years and her birth name didn’t seem hers anymore. Besides, the last person who’d called her by her birth name was her mother.

Saph veered toward a table near the fireplace, setting them on a path to the stairs. S omewhere private was apparently up in the living space.

“Why did your parents name you Sapphire? Your eye is green,” Divine blurted.

Saph laughed, throwing a look over her shoulder. Her left eye sparkled such that Divine couldn’t look away.

“Both eyes are green. No, my parents named me Saph. But Sapphire made for a better logo to have carved over the tavern door.”

Divine glanced to the side out of the door’s windowpanes, barely catching sight of the swinging sign. She’d noticed the enchantment—which made the sign sparkle with rays of purple —immediately on arrival. The cut sapphire, like a multifaceted eye over the name of the tavern, was a nice touch.

“How much were you charged?” Divine asked, referring to the enchantment.

Saph paused at the first step, grasping the railing. “Do you usually inquire into finances before quests?”

Divine rotated a ring around her finger with her thumb. “Call it a tendency to want to solve problems. I know how the Tricksters typically operate. If you don’t haggle, they’ll charge way more than it’s worth.”

“Had your own run-in with them?”

Divine shrugged. “So is the way of the God of Day and Deceit.”

“I see. But don’t worry. I asked around and the fee was within reason. But that does explain the blinking.”

Saph ascended the stairs and Divine followed, careful not to bump into the tavern owner’s back side as she noted how the woman angled her head to watch her steps.

“What blinking?”

“I swear it blinks in the shape of a woman’s nether regions…well, only at midnight. God of Deceit huh? I could have used your knowledge before paying for the enchantment. How did you know the source of the handiwork?”

“I…” Divine hesitated as they reached the top of the stairs, not wanting to reveal anything that would elicit questions about her Goddess. Come to think of it, why didn’t Saph know? “Despite being the only servants with the ability to manipulate light?”

“Ah. You make a point.”

Saph’s response seemed off, but Divine was thankful the woman didn’t inquire more about her own connection to the Holy District as they moved into a warmly lit hallway.

The sounds of a full establishment below were muffled through the floorboards of the second level. Divine’s calf-high boots thudded as they walked, the sound deadened by the light hallway rug over the wooden floor. She shifted her jacket to her other arm.

Though autumn had begun to make its mark on the world like a painter dotting colors randomly across the landscape, the weather was just at the point of encouraging a light jacket. In the Sultry Sapphire, away from winds, the temperature had been comfortable—until Saph gave her attention. Divine dreaded the cold that followed the change in seasons. Her jacket’s dark brown, velvety fabric would not keep out the winter winds. She was glad she even thought to bring it. Madeline might have gone north instead, and these autumn days would nearly be over.

Saph led them to a wooden door with a simple brass knob. The door had the company of only two others in the hall. With so few rooms, the Sultry Sapphire was not one of the bed-and-beer variety. Once they were both inside, Saph closed the door and removed her blouse.

Divine froze, her gaze locked on Saph’s purple overbust corset, briefly acknowledging her guess that the woman was using something of the sort to enhance her features. Apparently, this was Saph’s bedroom.

“Be a darling and loosen these ties, would you? They’re dreadfully hard to manage with only human hands.” Saph had turned her back to Divine, sweeping her long black locks in front of her shoulder out of the way.

Human hands? Did she often have ursavara assisting her? Divine imagined claws shredding the back of the corset and cringed. Likely the woman was simply thinking of a random creature of Alistraysia. Though, the ursavara was more prominent here in the south. No. Divine shook her head. She imagined the woman’s right hand had more to do with difficulty in managing the strings.

With nervousness trembling within her, Divine almost preferred the creature with its muzzle full of fish-filleting teeth asking for assistance instead. Divine reached for her well to combat her unsteady extremities but found emptiness where her magic used to be; the subsequent floral scent missing like a garden in winter. The abilities of a Soulshield now withered.

Throat dry, Divine reached out, her fingers brushing the woman’s shoulder blades and the length of her spine before finding the offending ribbon tied at the base of the corset. Her heart thumped quicker as she imagined sliding her hands around to grip Saph’s hips before spinning her around. Thankful her beer had not been spiked, Divine scolded herself for entertaining such thoughts about someone she had just met. Instead, she took her time, gently pulling the cross-woven ribbon loose at each hook like a weaver crafting a tapestry.

Despite her own reservation of what in all the lands of Alistraysia was happening, Divine didn’t want the moment to end.

“Thanks, darling,” Saph said finally, walking across the room to slip behind a privacy screen.

Articles of clothing began draping over the top. Divine consciously rooted her boots to the floor but watched the shadow of Saph’s figure play on the screen.

“There’s still the matter of your strengths…” Saph’s voice seemed to linger on the screen as well.

Had Divine gotten so tangled in ribbons that she’d missed a question?

“Uh—”

“Might or magic. It’s magic, isn’t it? Your pants are far too tight to hide anything deadly, though I suppose you could hide poison just about anywhere . Are you an Apothecary?”

“Umm, no. I do wield magic. Well, did.”

“Personal choice?”

Divine sighed. It was bound to come out eventually. “My talisman was stolen.”

Saph peeked her head around the edge of the white partition, her chin tilted to angle her vision on Divine. “You’re kidding!”

“It’s complicated.” Divine touched just below the notch at her neck where her locket used to hang, feeling for the raised moon and sword on its surface.

She saw herself, fifteen years old, sitting among roses and floundering with the generic advice given by her temple on talisman creation. It made sense not to receive any direct help, to keep the item secret, but it was a lonely undertaking. It became a test of the Goddess, to see who She blessed with which strengths. Divine was tired of being alone.

The woman disappeared again. “Judging from your clothes, I’d guess you’re from the capital. Long journey.”

“That’s right. You’re very perceptive.” From her home city of Arosia to the smallest hovels, the various bar workers all seemed to have that trait in common. Divine glanced at her mermaid belt buckle on her close-fitting pants and wondered what exactly revealed that she came from the northernmost city-state of Trelvania; the seat of the Holicratic Ruling Council that kept the hagiocracy functioning across the sovereign provinces. Trade happened with all of the provinces in Trelvania, therefore Divine thought everyone had a little bit of everywhere on them.

“And you’re a servant of a deity,” Saph continued. “Blessed for your devotion and all of that?”

Rubbing her finger over the grooves in her rose stud earring, Divine debated how much to trust this tavern owner, then thought, to Condemnation with it .

“The Goddess of Souls. It’s why I’m here. I tracked my…the thief here to Iramont.”

“Bold of them to steal from a prominent Goddess.”

Divine flinched. “She’s from our rival Goddess, Condemnation.” Why was she telling Saph all this? But Divine knew the answer. Since leaving her home city, she had confided in no one. The untold story churned inside her like a sickness. Eventually it would need to be expelled.

“I get the popularity challenge. Acquire the most followers, be the best. But why allthe animosity between your temples?”

“You know what the Goddess of Souls does, right?”

“Something about ‘guiding souls into the afterlife.’” Saph’s voice dripped with light sarcasm.

“And the Goddess of Condemnation?” Divine asked, trying not to bristle at the negative response.

“Law enforcers and punishment dealers? Ah, much better,” Saph sighed. “This reflects my mood more.” She stepped around the privacy screen wearing a billowing peasant blouse with sheer sleeves and a rainbow of colors tracing the neckline in flowered embroidery. It was paired with a dandelion-patterned, ankle-length skirt. Three layers of beaded necklaces jangled from her clavicle to her breasts, still lifted. She crossed her arms, jostling a double-headed axe that poked over her right shoulder.

Divine swallowed, her eyes fixed on the axe. Perhaps she had trusted too quickly. “You, uh, say that like you don’t know for sure.”

“I haven’t stepped into the Holy District since I was probably ten years old. I couldn’t tell you which Gods and Goddesses people care for these days.”

Divine chuckled, then sobered as Saph’s face remained impassive. “But the tavern. Surely you hear things there?”

So much of Divine’s life had been within the arms of her Goddess. It was hard to imagine that there were still people within a city—a city that had the second largest population, and therefore the second largest Holy District, in Trelvania—who didn’t have a general understanding of the deities.

“I try to avoid it.” Saph shrugged, the weapon on her back hopping. “I don’t need the weight of their morality. That’s something for them to wrestle with.”

“Let me catch you up, then. The Goddess of Souls cares for the souls of the living and sees they find their way into the afterlife after death and then new into births, even if it is an unfathomable number of years later. I wasn’t strong enough to guide the souls directly.”

Saph’s eyebrow raised. “ Wasn’t? ”

Divine stiffened. “Let’s just say I’m not on good terms at the moment. I don’t really want to talk about that right now, if that’s alright.”

“Fair enough. And your magic?”

“What some forget is that care for souls includes the living. I had empathic influence, healing, protective shields. That sort of thing.”

“Empathic influence sounds interesting.” Saph adjusted the strap of her eyepatch.

“Imagine a brawl breaks out in your tavern. I could cool the heated tempers.”

“Handy. Just don’t use it on me, unless I ask you to.”

Divine nodded. If she ever got her talisman back. As Saph took a step toward her, Divine retreated, her eyes locked on the sharp blade.

“What’s that for?” Divine pointed.

“For our quest with the chest, of course. If I help you get your talisman back, will you go on an adventure with me?”

Divine bit her lower lip, watching as Saph shifted one hip higher than the other, her ale-brown skin peeking out. She placed her arms akimbo, waiting. The blouse fell loosely on her shoulders and Divine wondered if a draft would slip the fabric from them completely.

“There’s maps. And maps in chests always lead to treasure,” Saph said into Divine’s hesitation.

Divine touched the bag of friggons strapped to the small of her back beneath her sleeveless shirt; a third of the size it was starting out. Not enough to keep staying in inns and have food to eat.

“I promise nothing but fun,” Saph said as she tapped her purple nose piercing, “no other promises.”

It had been a while since Divine had fun. Chasing your betrayer through a dozen cities for five months certainly took it out of you. But without her magic well, Divine wasn’t sure how much advantage she could truly add.

“You any good with that?” Divine pointed.

Saph reached over her shoulder and brought the weapon out, spinning it in one hand. She shifted her stance and her grasp on the sapphire-blue wrapped grip, and before Divine could blink the woman raised the double-headed axe over her head. Turning her head slightly to align her eye, with two hands on the forearm-length shaft she launched it. It whizzed past Divine to thunk somewhere behind her. Divine spun, finding a large wooden target on the room’s door; the axe lodged into the exact center, the free edge winking with sunlight.

“I’ll bring the might, you bring the magic.”

Divine turned her head back to Saph. “Why not.”

* * *

After Divine’s hasty agreement, Saph opened the wooden box as they sat on the edge of her bed. Whatever was inside couldn’t be that bad, right? As Saph explained it, the previous night a man clothed in all black with a matching sharpshooter hat came into her establishment. He didn’t have coin and as she was in a generous mood, Saph offered to see if anything he carried would be fair trade for a couple mugs of ale. That’s when the chest came out.

“He said he wasn’t tied to it as he’d stolen it from someone along the road here. He hadn’t had a chance to appraise the items inside but the man he’d taken it from was a dealer in unique items. He was ‘sure it would more than pay’ for his drinks.” Saph shrugged.

“You’re all right with him having stolen it?”

“As long as he didn’t steal from me, what he does when he’s outside of my bar doesn’t matter. We’ve all got to survive somehow.”

“And if I didn’t have money to pay, what would you take in exchange?” Divine twisted an emerald ring on her right middle finger.

“A little adventure gets my heart all fluttery. I’m sure I could think of something. But you had money, and you’ve agreed to a quest, so I’m rich this evening.” She peeled open the chest’s maw, the brass connectors creaking.

Divine leaned closer, her shoulder brushing Saph’s as she peered into the container. She let their arms remain in contact and Saph did not move away. Inside rested two hand-drawn maps, three crystals, and a note.

Saph handed the note to Divine. “Read it, would you, dear?” She plucked the crystals, one each colored yellow, blue, and translucent, and held them aloft. Catching light from the window, one crystal refracted a rainbow on the wall as Divine read.

Excuse me, traveler. I need your help.

If you have found this box, then the last of my magic has succeeded. I’m embarrassed to say that one of my experiments went wrong and I have trapped myself inside my house. I can explain when you arrive and free me. Use the maps to locate my home and place the crystals where designated. I’ll make it well worth your while.

“This can’t be serious.” Divine waved the note before folding the paper in half and handing it to Saph.

The tavern owner put the last, dark blue crystal back into the box. She flopped back, her hair fanning around her head like she lay in water. She held one of the maps over her head.

“I think I’ve been here before.” She poked the map with a finger. “I recognized these farms.” She lowered the map to her lap, angling her head on the bed to look at Divine. “I used to drive a wagon out that way to get my own supplies for the bar, if you can believe it.”

Divine wanted to lie down beside her, let their arms touch as they held the maps aloft. But she pushed the reaction down. Too soon, for many reasons.

From this side of the map, a faint outline of ink shone through the parchment in the bottom left; a figure standing on its back paws, front paws raised with exaggeratedly long horns distinct to the ursavara. Interesting that the map maker drew doodles of forest fauna. Divine recalled the entry into the temple’s bestiary as she waited for her mother to finish talking with the First Servant of Souls.

It was about a year before she had confirmed with the temple. Purple and gold foil traced the edge of a teal book, the remaining space covered in gold outlines of creatures, laying on a pedestal. Divine had flipped through the pages until an illustration of a creature standing on its hind legs caught her eye.

The entry for ursavara included advice for avoiding being mauled—something about food scraps, though Divine couldn’t remember if it was to bury them or that a certain type of food kept the creature away. The entry also stated the beast was associated with confidence and strength but warned too much of either was a cause of conflict and aggression. To negate someone with these emotions, a Soulshield should try applying sensations of compassion and friendship. Divine wondered what the other temples’ bestiaries included, as empathic influence was specific to the Goddess of Souls.

The book had also contained a map colored to show distribution of the ursavara for the known realms of Alistraysia. Divine had noticed that Trelvania had been colored for most of the entries. Situated between two other continents, the book explained, gave Trelvania a diverse population of non-sapient creatures. The southern half of Trelvania was colored darker than the northern to match the higher level of ursavara population.

Divine smiled. She had memorized nearly the whole book.

Saph handed her another map, breaking the memory. “What do you make of this?”

The map showed a clearing with a house just beyond another glade. Several markings were made around the house. At the bottom corner with a cluster of poorly drawn trees were the letters “REDLE” written in a shaky, red script.

“These might be the locations to place the crystals the letter mentions.” Divine handed the map back. “And maybe the mapmaker doesn’t know how to spell riddle?”

“Well, we’ll find out when we get there.” The woman sat upright and Divine recoiled, catching herself before she slid off the bed. “I don’t bite,” Saph said as she laughed, “unless you ask me to.”

Divine’s stomach flipped.

“All right,” Saph continued, “we’ll discuss what to pack later. First, we have to track down this mystery thief for your talisman.”

Madeline was more than a thief, but Divine didn’t correct her; while the stealing part was true, Divine didn’t want to prompt questions. Those tended to rip open her hastily sutured wounds. Crying all night into a pillow in the first town where she’d followed Madeline taught Divine she was better off keeping the memories locked away.

“I actually have some experience in hunting individuals with obligations,” Saph said. “Don’t ask. It makes for a much more interesting second date if I keep some secrets.”

“Second…date?”

“Did you not enter my sleeping chambers and remove my corset?” Saph jumped off the bed, one hand on her hip while the other gestured to the room. “Lie on my bed?”

“I…but—”

Ruffling Divine’s loose curls, Saph’s hearty laugh filled the room. Divine couldn’t stop her echoing smile. The woman picked her axe back up, took a step toward the door and motioned for Divine to follow.

“Come on. I know how to get the locals to talk. Let’s find out if anyone has seen your bandit.”