never occurred to any of them that poor, deformed, homely Mamna might not be able to resist a demon any easier than other, more beautiful mortal women.
It certainly had not occurred to Mamna. But she had fallen in love with the Demon Lord on sight, and his blindness to anyone but the chosen goddess had cut her far worse than any other slight experienced in a lifetime of humiliations. She had wanted to be treated with some of the same gentle kindness he had shown to one of her mistresses. She wanted her own chance to serve him.
Telling him of the goddess’s deception had seemed the perfect opportunity.
He had been waiting for his lover in their usual place on the night Mamna finally gathered her courage to approach him. She kept her head down, her eyes on the cool, dew-dampened grass beneath her bare, misshapen feet.
“You have been betrayed,” she had said.
At first, the Demon Lord had not believed her.
“Watch and see,” Mamna declared. “She will offer you a pendant, a small mountain stone of no obvious beauty or value, with all of the colors of the rainbow. She’ll tell you it’s a symbol of her love for you. She’ll tell you it offers immunity against the goddesses, just as the amulet you gave her protects her from demons. But it is the same stone the goddesses give to their favored mortal men. It is meant to enslave you. It will bind you to her as surely as it binds them.” Mamna held out her hand, raising her eyes to his. She had a handful of the same colored stones, some set in pendants, others as yet unpolished. “Have you seen these before?”
She could tell by the look on his face that he had.
Mamna withdrew to a nearby hiding place to watch what happened next. When the goddess had shown up with her offering, the Demon Lord rejected it with such violence that the protection of the amulet he had already given her was all that saved her.
The depth of his anger, however, had set the mountain on fire. Mamna had carried that demon fire onto the sacred ground for him, and the goddesses had fled before it.
All but one.
Any kindness he had shown his lover had not extended beyond that. What he had allowed his army to do to mortal men in the days that followed the departure of the goddesses still made Mamna shudder, even in her dreams.
Betraying immortals, she had discovered, was not for the timid.
Mamna never slept well after the fragments of those memories woke her in sweat-soaked terror, and tonight, when the shaking of the earth began, she was already wide awake.
The protective amulet she wore tucked beneath her nightdress remained silent, but she withdrew it for added reassurance that she was not under demon attack.
She rubbed it between her fingers. Its smoothness was gone. The fine cracks that shattered the desert varnish after she had summoned the demon that afternoon had deepened considerably. Had it lost the last of its power?
Was that what this trembling of the earth signified?
She crawled from the soft, warm depths of her canopied bed and padded across the swaying floor. Thin shafts of moonlight beckoned to her through the slit where the two heavy brocade curtains did not quite meet. She inched the crack wider and peered outside with one eye.
Her bedroom window, crafted from cut glass and exorbitantly expensive, overlooked the manicured garden of one of the many fortified inner compounds designed to keep Freetown’s wealthier inhabitants safe from thieves and murderers.
She pulled back one curtain and tried to see beyond the city’s main walls to the east, where the mountain dominated the horizon, but the night was too dark.
The raised voices of people swarming in the street outside the compound reached her ears. They, too, wondered what the quaking earth signified. The last time, it meant the mountain burned and the goddesses had abandoned them.
The tremors slowly died away. Mamna watched for a long time as the crowds thinned, and eventually, the street emptied.
The earthquake
It certainly had not occurred to Mamna. But she had fallen in love with the Demon Lord on sight, and his blindness to anyone but the chosen goddess had cut her far worse than any other slight experienced in a lifetime of humiliations. She had wanted to be treated with some of the same gentle kindness he had shown to one of her mistresses. She wanted her own chance to serve him.
Telling him of the goddess’s deception had seemed the perfect opportunity.
He had been waiting for his lover in their usual place on the night Mamna finally gathered her courage to approach him. She kept her head down, her eyes on the cool, dew-dampened grass beneath her bare, misshapen feet.
“You have been betrayed,” she had said.
At first, the Demon Lord had not believed her.
“Watch and see,” Mamna declared. “She will offer you a pendant, a small mountain stone of no obvious beauty or value, with all of the colors of the rainbow. She’ll tell you it’s a symbol of her love for you. She’ll tell you it offers immunity against the goddesses, just as the amulet you gave her protects her from demons. But it is the same stone the goddesses give to their favored mortal men. It is meant to enslave you. It will bind you to her as surely as it binds them.” Mamna held out her hand, raising her eyes to his. She had a handful of the same colored stones, some set in pendants, others as yet unpolished. “Have you seen these before?”
She could tell by the look on his face that he had.
Mamna withdrew to a nearby hiding place to watch what happened next. When the goddess had shown up with her offering, the Demon Lord rejected it with such violence that the protection of the amulet he had already given her was all that saved her.
The depth of his anger, however, had set the mountain on fire. Mamna had carried that demon fire onto the sacred ground for him, and the goddesses had fled before it.
All but one.
Any kindness he had shown his lover had not extended beyond that. What he had allowed his army to do to mortal men in the days that followed the departure of the goddesses still made Mamna shudder, even in her dreams.
Betraying immortals, she had discovered, was not for the timid.
Mamna never slept well after the fragments of those memories woke her in sweat-soaked terror, and tonight, when the shaking of the earth began, she was already wide awake.
The protective amulet she wore tucked beneath her nightdress remained silent, but she withdrew it for added reassurance that she was not under demon attack.
She rubbed it between her fingers. Its smoothness was gone. The fine cracks that shattered the desert varnish after she had summoned the demon that afternoon had deepened considerably. Had it lost the last of its power?
Was that what this trembling of the earth signified?
She crawled from the soft, warm depths of her canopied bed and padded across the swaying floor. Thin shafts of moonlight beckoned to her through the slit where the two heavy brocade curtains did not quite meet. She inched the crack wider and peered outside with one eye.
Her bedroom window, crafted from cut glass and exorbitantly expensive, overlooked the manicured garden of one of the many fortified inner compounds designed to keep Freetown’s wealthier inhabitants safe from thieves and murderers.
She pulled back one curtain and tried to see beyond the city’s main walls to the east, where the mountain dominated the horizon, but the night was too dark.
The raised voices of people swarming in the street outside the compound reached her ears. They, too, wondered what the quaking earth signified. The last time, it meant the mountain burned and the goddesses had abandoned them.
The tremors slowly died away. Mamna watched for a long time as the crowds thinned, and eventually, the street emptied.
The earthquake
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