Waterborne (Wanderlust 3)

Chapter Thirteen

Amna led them to the large building. Before climbing up the two steps, she paused and bowed. A glance and nod at Tanden indicated that they should do the same thing. Tanden and Soren both bowed, unsure of who or what they were bowing to, but willing to do it anyway. It wasn't the first time they had shown respect to another country's deities or beliefs, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time.

Although Tanden had mentally translated Amna's word for the building into 'temple', it wasn't like any temple he had ever seen before. Navire and Deorun's temples were large rectangular buildings, richly decorated, containing huge statues. Zianna's would have been similar, if any still existed. Tallen Tiya's temples were round, with a ceremonial pool in the middle. The Alvarian temple could be compared to those temples in the same way Teltish churches could be compared to Teltish cathedrals.

Which made some sense, Tanden thought to himself, taking in the tiny building's interior. Balagada wasn't a huge city, so they wouldn't have a huge temple.

Despite the small size, it was a beautiful building. Flickering candles lit up painted wall carvings. The left wall was decorated with images of stylized trees and animals, and a snaking blue river. The right wall depicted a cityscape, squared buildings and tiny people. The images were surrounded by geometric patterns in black and white.

The wall at the end of the room was, at first glance, no different from the others. Until Tanden really looked at the picture painted there.

It was likely a deity, naked and obviously female. Her skin was the deep brown of all Alvarians, but her hands and forearms were red. In her right hand, she held a green knife. In her left—

"That's a head," Soren hissed in his ear.

It was. A human head, dangling from the goddess' hand by its long hair. Blond hair.

Tanden's gaze dipped beneath the painted goddess, to a stone altar with a shallow bowl carved into the middle. Tanden suddenly wished he had a knife.

Trying to pretend he hadn't noticed how much the head looked like him, Tanden turned to Amna. "Is this a goddess?"

Amna's serene smile contained just a hint of amused smirk. "We don't sacrifice people anymore."

Tanden let out a shaky breath. "Oh."

"Axmazi still demands blood, but we sacrifice animals now. There hasn't been a non-voluntary human sacrifice here in hundreds of years."

"Non-voluntary?"

"In times of great struggle—spreading sicknesses, droughts or terrible storms—a caretaker will sometimes volunteer to be sacrificed. Her spirit goes to Axmazi to speak on our behalf. Her body is given a lavish home in Balagaya, and her spirit is forever honoured and welcomed to visit the living. There is no way to be more honoured and loved by Axmazi."

Tanden looked up at the painting. The head didn't look particularly honoured or loved. "Does this image have a particular story?"

Amna nodded. "The paintings all tell a story." She pointed at the cityscape. "That is the land of the gods, which we imitate to make our cities. Axmazi lives there now, but long ago she lived there with Praxel, her greatest rival and lover. They fought often, but one day their fight was so great that Axmazi cut off Praxel's head with her jade knife. Soon afterwards she lamented the loss of her lover. Using her magic, she preserved Praxel's head, and it became our world. She uses the blood we sacrifice to keep his head alive. But Praxel's spirit grew weary in the head, and he begged Axmazi to free him. She did, using her magic to move his spirit from the world into a noble jaguar. Newer paintings tend to show Axmazi with the jaguar Praxel as her companion."