My hand fell to my stomach, where a star had once been. My body was different. A body changed when giving life to a child. But what happened when that child was a godling? A star?
Sun hummed beneath His breath, thinking.
“If I may,” I spoke quietly, and He nodded for me to continue. “I . . . I would like to return home.”
Sun arched a bold, fiery eyebrow. “You wish to return to the Earth Mother?”
Another of the godlings at the side of the room said, in a voice like bells, “That is the home of mortals,” as though we did not already know.
And yet, perhaps the god before me needed to be reminded.
Sun drew His bright fingers across His chin, considering. It was a very human gesture, which I found oddly endearing. Feeling bold, I thought to encourage Him. “I believe You’ve no further use for me, my Lord.”
His lip quirked again. “I am not sure you are correct in that assessment, Ceris Wenden. You have broken the routine of millennia, and I am unsure how to proceed.” He lowered His hand and gestured to the room around us. “You could stay here.”
I did not look at the palace, but at Him, incredulous of the offer. “Here?”
He nodded. “You are a star mother. You have done a great service. Perhaps the greatest a mortal could do. You would be welcome. I . . . I would welcome you.”
I swallowed, pulling my eyes from Him to look at the pink-lit not-walls around us. This place, as bizarre as it was, had become familiar to me during my stay. And yet, looking at it now, it was as though I saw it for the first time. It was strange, it was other, and it was uncomfortable. Not where I belonged. More importantly, not where I wanted to be.
But before I denied a god, I needed to ask a favor. “Our child. Might I see her?”
He paused. “You were right, of course.”
My brow knit together.
“It is a her.” He smiled at me and guided me to a not-wall, where a wave of His hand opened a porthole. It was as though the palace had shifted while my mind was elsewhere, for the stars I so often watched from my bed, looking up, I could now see through this porthole, looking out. There was my star, glimmering and beautiful, larger than she appeared from my bedroom, but still so far out of reach. I blinked tears away at her majesty.
“Can I go to her?” I whispered.
Sun’s shoulders sagged. “I will take you, in due time. But I cannot now. Her power resides in wild space, and it is unguarded.”
Disappointment and confusion swirled through me. “Unguarded?”
His mouth was a tight, dark line. “Matters of grave importance are threatening the balance of the universe. And she is taking advantage.”
I stepped away from the porthole, and it spiraled closed. “You will have to be more specific.”
“Moon.” He rubbed the bridge of His nose—another human gesture. “She has always fought for power, fought to be counted among gods. But that is no trouble of yours.”
I glanced back to where the porthole had been, my chest aching for it to reappear so I could jump from it and swim through the darkness toward our daughter. How long would I have to stay in this palace before Sun granted my wish?
If I had to wait, did I have to wait here? I was a star mother, and Sun ruled the day. Surely He’d have the power to find me, once the universe was well again.
“Promise me.” When He met my eyes, I added, “That You will take me, when it is safe.”
He nodded. “I promise.”
I bowed my head to Him. “Thank You. I ask that You also grant my other desire, Your Majesty. I want to go home.”
He did not answer, so I lifted my head, meeting His lionlike visage. Several seconds passed before He let out a sigh, and it was as though summer pulsed through the not-room. “I wish to speak with you further, but this problem must be seen to immediately. You have done Me and My kingdom a great service. I will see you returned home. If that is what you truly want.”
My heart flipped in my chest. All that I thought I had lost—my parents, my sisters, my friends—would be mine again. Caen . . . Caen would not be mine in the way I had always wanted him to be, but he would be there, and he would love me in a way he could love no one else, even if it was not as a wife. And I . . . felt content with that. At peace.
I nodded, and Sun reached for a golden band crossing His broad chest, pulling from it a small loop of fire. He spun it between His fingers, the flames growing smaller and darker with each turn, until it formed a ring of deep amber with a scorched band running along its middle. It smoked in His palm when He offered it to me. Hesitant, I picked it up. Like Sun Himself, the ring was hot, but did not hurt me.