Dana Ilic and the Shadow Door (Lightwielder Chronicles #1) | ✔️

5| Who's Your Daddy?

When Gamayun had mentioned an Assembly of Gods, I had first imagined a stern group in white togas. 

Or a bunch of businessman and businesswomen in smart clothing at a round table, tapping their phone screens restlessly.

I had not expected the very beings from the legends and tales that mama used to tell me bedtime stories about since I was a toddler. Lelya was like a beautiful hippie queen, and Morana, who controlled the winter and death itself, was one of the most powerful goddesses.

And now Gamayun was telling us we were both half-gods, and that there was some kind of ceremony of the Claim that we had to participate in?

Ugh. This was akin to some horrible nightmare where I was walking the red carpet of a fancy film premiere, but I was inadequately dressed for the occasion.

And who could guarantee I'd be claimed at all? Since no god or goddess had come to personally greet me, as Morana did with Max (or should I call him Maksim from now on?), I actually began to doubt the story of my Demi-godhood.

What if the light elevator took us both to Chardak only because we were hugging at that moment?

I paused, recalling how tender and caring Max's hug had felt, and warmth pricked my cheeks and nose.

And what about the Shadow Drake lurking in your basement, a little voice said in my head. Even Gamayun said that you releasing him had forced their hand. What was he doing in there in the first place? Who sent him?

"What do we have to do in order to be Claimed?" I spoke up, and I was surprised that my voice sounded more self-assured than I actually felt at that moment.

"The task is quite straightforward, I assure you, Miss Ilic," said Gamayun. "You are to approach each throne, and bow before it. If you are a descendant of a god or a goddess seated upon that throne, they shall claim you as their offspring in the way they see fit. That would be all."

"Oh and, after we do it, and we are not... Claimed by anyone," Max added, "will you let us go back home?"

 "As to your inquiry, Mr. Martinez, the answer is yes. You shall be returned to your households, and you will have no memory of this conversation whatsoever."

"Seems easy enough," said Max, and stepped forward. "Let's get this over with."

He peered closer at the circle of thrones. "Wait. So, like, they're just going to pop up here, weigh us, and say Uh-huh. This seems like my kid? Should I wait until all the 'gods' come back before I..."

"Darling," Morana screeched. "Just come here, bow before my throne, and let's get this over with."

"Fat chance." Max growled at her.

Even their voices sounded super similar!

"There is no need to await for the gods, Mr. Martinez," replied Gamayun. "Not all gods and goddesses are in residence in the Throne Chamber at the same time. They have work to do."

"Work? What work? What are you talking about, Gammy?" Lelya giggled. "Yarilo is surfing in California, Dazbog just tweets nonsense all day, and stares at Netflix series after Netflix series. And I know for a fact that Stribog is settling some silly dispute between two storm clouds in Norway."

Gamayun cleared her throat and Lelya stopped talking.

"That being said, Mr. Martinez, I assure you the effect of claiming will be the same, regardless of whether your godly parent is here, or not."

"Oh, so that's why some of the thrones are kind of shimmering!" I exclaimed. "It's cuz the gods aren't sitting on them at the moment."

"Precisely," said Gamayun, tilting her head like a bird watching a worm. "Now, if you will, Mr. Martinez... Let the Claim ceremony commence."