Terri settled on the arm of his chair, her sweet scent surrounding Veral.
“Do you want to believe?” she asked.
He paused, considering.
Did he want to?
He thought of the joy and reverence on the faces of his far-kin when they received blessings from the gazthi, or even among other species, many of them salvagers he had met who had expressed joy from their beliefs.
He would like to know what that was like. It seemed a wholly organic experience that was out of reach for a highly modified Argurma—and a secret part of him desired it. He also recoiled from it. His world was perfectly calculable as it existed now. The possibility of feeling less control and understanding regarding his world was not a thought he enjoyed.
“I have never seen or experienced a divinity,” he said instead.
His mate laughed, brushing a kiss lightly against the tip of one ear.
“I don’t think it works that way,” she murmured.
He leaned into his mate’s touch, his heart heavy with emotion that he did not understand or know how to process or express. He felt it filling him without direction. Perhaps that was part of what belief was like, too.
“I do not know,” he admitted at last.
Hours later, as they sat among his far-kin, tables of food stretched out in front of the communal benches, he still did not know if he wished to experience such a thing. No one ate. All eyes were attentively fixed on the gazthi.
The last time he had witnessed the spirit ceremony, the gazthi had been ancient, her vibrissae nearly translucent with age and her scales dull and colorless. This was not the same female. Her successor was young, her expression serene as she carried Harahna to the low altar that was a permanent fixture in the room.
Laying his daughter amid a nest of blankets, she spoke in a soothing voice. It was too soft him to make out properly, but Harahna did not cry nor struggle against the female. Instead, her little glowing eyes followed her curiously as the gazthi anointed her with fragrant oils. A bowl set up on long three long iron legs stood off to the side filled with hot coals, a cloud of sweet, white smoke erupting from it when she suddenly cast a handful of powder onto them.
The gazthi inhaled deep, her voice taking on a rolling quality, one word blending into another in a stream of indecipherable chant. Her hand twitched, and she dug into her pouch with one hand as she brought the opposite one to her mouth. Biting down on her thumb, she allowed three drops to fall onto the hot coals before her nanos were able to repair the wound.
The blood sizzled on the coals, but she took no heed of it. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her strange chanting growing louder and filling the room, drawing tension from the onlookers, as she pulled out a token from her pouch and set it on Harahna’s belly. Another was set at the crown of her head and another at her feet. Tokens were then placed at either side of her shoulders.
The gazthi shuddered as she leaned over his offspring, her eyes staring unseeing at the tokens. Her words were barked in a strained rasp.
“Harahna’monushava’terri spans the worlds. The gods favor her and will see her grow strong. She will see many places unseen and will grow in wisdom and cunning. The gods will this that they send their daughter out beyond us, to not return for fifty cycles around the sun. She will not know Argurma air or sand, but she will return, and her footsteps will be known across our world. This is as the gods will that she will be a powerful warrior who will rally the world that shall break and fall in her absence. She has been marked by destiny!”
The gazthi’s voice snapped through the room like the crack of lightning. The deafening silence that followed was short-lived as conversation erupted from all corners. Never had a child of their line been offered such a foreseeing. Dishes clattered, the sound joining with the chatter as food was passed around. The feast had begun, but Veral’s entire focus was on his daughter as the gazthi carried her over and lay her gently in his arms.
“You will raise her well, and her brothers and sisters that come after her,” the gazthi whispered, her eyes glowing unusually bright even still, her voice throatier with a rough rasp like a blade drawn over a rock. “Do not fear her fate. The gods will protect your line.”
The gazthi drew back, the ornaments around her neck rattling. She did not join in with the feast but disappeared through a narrow hall at the opposite end of the room. With her body still trembling from the aftermath of the ritual, he calculated that she required time of solitude. An older offspring followed her with a platter and jug so that her needs would be seen to.
At his side, his mate drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Her lips were parted, and her eyes with awe and some undefined emotion. Sensing his gaze, she turned and looked at him and gave him a nervous smile.
“Wow,” she murmured with a weak laugh. “So much for a peaceful life of adventuring among the cosmos.”
“We will have that life,” Veral swore.
He would not let down his mate.
31
Terri grinned at the Argurma female sitting across from her. They were both seated cross-legged on the floor as their babies, only a month apart in age, sprawled on the floor at their sides. Unlike most other parts of the planet, the Galithilan Houses, while slow to breed, weren’t suffering from any recent reproduction issues.
Not that they would share that with the council.
They kept to themselves, hidden deep within the sands, sending out only occasional caravans with goods to their kin on the borders. Secretive, they preferred to remain as unchanged as possible. They hadn’t been able to avoid the introduction of nanos, but they rejected most other things outside of tech they specifically selected that would increase the enjoyment of their lives without bringing misery.
Although reserved, the lack of “upgrades” made a noticeable difference among their population. Children were showered with affection. Males laughed and attempted to outdo each other in stories and contests or drank pulsed and fermented vansik—something she still couldn’t get her mind around, as much as she enjoyed eating the little critters fried. The females drew her into their company, showing her how to do various tasks that she demonstrated interest in. Although there were plenty of female guards, Terri found herself gravitating more and more to the males and females who were weaving and making household goods. She was terrible at it, but with all the fighting that had occupied her time, she discovered that she enjoyed it.