Mother. “She never expected such honor.”
“The girls who expect it,” said the priestess, “are the very ones who should never be given it.”
Finally Mother could believe it—or perhaps she finally realized that her very incredulity was making it plain to Emeez just what she thought of her. Whatever the reason, Mother finally squeaked in delight and embraced Emeez.
Before they left, the priestess had Emeez show her which god she had been looking at. She knew as soon as Emeez led her into that small side chamber which god it would be. “The big ugly one, right? No one has ever touched it.”
“But the workmanship is beautiful,” said Emeez.
“Yes, that’s true,” said the priestess. “No large hands like ours could ever make such intricate perfection. That’s why the gods use the skymeat to give them material shape. But this one—I always wondered what he would do, since no one has ever given him a chance to make a child or bring the rain or anything like that. He must have been waiting for you, child.” And again the old priestess stroked her hair.
I will be the wife of the new war king, if he turns out to be worthy to succeed his father. I’ll do everything I can to help him be worthy. And I’ll keep a beautiful room for him, with carpets and tapestries, baskets and robes more lovely than have ever been seen before. And when people see him, they won’t think, Look at that poor man, to have such a hairy wife. Instead they’ll say, the wife of the war king may be hairy, but she has surrounded our king with beauty.
I will never forget you for this great gift, she said silently to the beautiful ugly god.
“Will you move this god out into the open now?” asked Mother.
“No,” said the priestess. “Nor are either of you to tell anyone what god it was who put these words into the girl’s mouth. This god has never been touched. Let him stay that way.”
“I’ve never heard of treating a powerful god like that,” Mother protested.
“And I’ve never heard of an untouched god having any power,” said the priestess. “So we don’t have any precedents here. Therefore—we will do whatever works. And not touching this one seemed to be quite effective. That’s enough for me.”
And for me, said Emeez silently. Then, aloud, she repeated the first and clearest words that the god had said. “I accept you.”
“Save those words for your husband,” said Mother. “Now I think we’d better head home while there’s still time to make a good supper.”
All the way home, Mother kept repeating to her that she had to keep all these things to herself and not brag to anyone because until old Vleezh made some public announcement she could still change her mind. “Or she might die. She’s old. And you can’t imagine that any of the other priestesses would be the least bit impressed if I brought you in and said, But Vleezh said she was going to pair my Emeez with Muf, the son of the war king.”
No, of course I can’t imagine that, Mother. Who could?
In the back of her mind, though, one question kept nagging at her, one that Mother and the priestess both seemed to have ignored. What did it mean , to say that the lost ones were coming home? Who was coming? And how did they get lost? And why was it this strange ugly god who brought the news, out of all the thousands of gods in the holy cave?
I will watch and wait, thought Emeez. I think the god meant to accomplish more with these words than just to get me married off so far beyond all expectations. So I will try to see what the god’s message really meant, and when I do, I will proclaim it or whatever else the god wants me to do. It will be clear to me, when it happens, what I’m supposed to do.
She did not wonder how she knew that. Instead she began to speculate on what word to add to her name, for the wife of the war king’s son would never be left with just her weaning name. Emeezuuzh? Uuzh was the ending Mother had taken on her day of
“The girls who expect it,” said the priestess, “are the very ones who should never be given it.”
Finally Mother could believe it—or perhaps she finally realized that her very incredulity was making it plain to Emeez just what she thought of her. Whatever the reason, Mother finally squeaked in delight and embraced Emeez.
Before they left, the priestess had Emeez show her which god she had been looking at. She knew as soon as Emeez led her into that small side chamber which god it would be. “The big ugly one, right? No one has ever touched it.”
“But the workmanship is beautiful,” said Emeez.
“Yes, that’s true,” said the priestess. “No large hands like ours could ever make such intricate perfection. That’s why the gods use the skymeat to give them material shape. But this one—I always wondered what he would do, since no one has ever given him a chance to make a child or bring the rain or anything like that. He must have been waiting for you, child.” And again the old priestess stroked her hair.
I will be the wife of the new war king, if he turns out to be worthy to succeed his father. I’ll do everything I can to help him be worthy. And I’ll keep a beautiful room for him, with carpets and tapestries, baskets and robes more lovely than have ever been seen before. And when people see him, they won’t think, Look at that poor man, to have such a hairy wife. Instead they’ll say, the wife of the war king may be hairy, but she has surrounded our king with beauty.
I will never forget you for this great gift, she said silently to the beautiful ugly god.
“Will you move this god out into the open now?” asked Mother.
“No,” said the priestess. “Nor are either of you to tell anyone what god it was who put these words into the girl’s mouth. This god has never been touched. Let him stay that way.”
“I’ve never heard of treating a powerful god like that,” Mother protested.
“And I’ve never heard of an untouched god having any power,” said the priestess. “So we don’t have any precedents here. Therefore—we will do whatever works. And not touching this one seemed to be quite effective. That’s enough for me.”
And for me, said Emeez silently. Then, aloud, she repeated the first and clearest words that the god had said. “I accept you.”
“Save those words for your husband,” said Mother. “Now I think we’d better head home while there’s still time to make a good supper.”
All the way home, Mother kept repeating to her that she had to keep all these things to herself and not brag to anyone because until old Vleezh made some public announcement she could still change her mind. “Or she might die. She’s old. And you can’t imagine that any of the other priestesses would be the least bit impressed if I brought you in and said, But Vleezh said she was going to pair my Emeez with Muf, the son of the war king.”
No, of course I can’t imagine that, Mother. Who could?
In the back of her mind, though, one question kept nagging at her, one that Mother and the priestess both seemed to have ignored. What did it mean , to say that the lost ones were coming home? Who was coming? And how did they get lost? And why was it this strange ugly god who brought the news, out of all the thousands of gods in the holy cave?
I will watch and wait, thought Emeez. I think the god meant to accomplish more with these words than just to get me married off so far beyond all expectations. So I will try to see what the god’s message really meant, and when I do, I will proclaim it or whatever else the god wants me to do. It will be clear to me, when it happens, what I’m supposed to do.
She did not wonder how she knew that. Instead she began to speculate on what word to add to her name, for the wife of the war king’s son would never be left with just her weaning name. Emeezuuzh? Uuzh was the ending Mother had taken on her day of
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