The Realms of the Gods by Tamora Pierce Read Free Book Online Page A

previous fall, the Graveyard Hag. Certainly she hadn’t been troubled by the ruction that she had caused. “Maybe that explains more than it doesn’t,” she replied grimly. “Though I believe gods would be kinder if things hurt them more.”
    Her father turned to look at her. “What makes you think our first duty is to be kind?” he wanted to know. “Too much tenderness is bad for mortals. They improve themselves only by struggling. Everyone knows that.”
    She blinked. He sounded like those humans who claimed that poverty made the poor into nobler souls. “Of course, Da. Whatever you say.”
    Sarra met them on the other side of the log bridge. She kissed her mate, then ordered, “Go skin and dress that hare, and not in the house.” He left, and she lookedat Daine. “You shouldn’t wander off like that, sweet. You’re not well yet—”
    â€œMa, if I’m well enough to climb that”— she pointed to the bluff that thrust out of the forest— “then I’m well enough to go home. Me ’n’ Numair can’t be lingering here.”
    Sarra blinked, her mouth trembling. “Are you so eager to get away from me? After not even a full day awake in my house?”
    Daine’s throat tightened. “I don’t want to leave you. Don’t think it!” She hugged her mother. “I missed you,” she whispered. “Four years—I never stopped missing you.”
    Sarra’s arms were tight around her. “I missed you too, sweetling.”
    Memory surged: The girl could almost smell burned wood, spilled blood, and the reek of death. The last time that she’d held her mother, Sarra had been stone cold, and Daine had been trying to yank out the arrows that had killed her. Tears rolled down her face.
    Gentle hands stroked her hair and back. “There, there,” Sarra whispered. “I am sorry. Never would I have left you willingly, not for all the gods in these realms.” Softly she crooned until Daine’s tears slowed, then stopped.
    â€œForgive me.” The girl pulled away, wiping her eyes. “It was—remembering. . . .”
    â€œMe, too.” Sarra drew a handkerchief from a pocket. Tugging on it until two handkerchiefs appeared, she gave one to Daine, and used the other to dry her own eyes.
    â€œGrandda?” asked the girl. She blew her nose.
    â€œIn the realms of the dead. He’s happy there. Well, you know we never got on well. We like each other better now that I only visit now and—” Sarra cocked her head, that odd, listening expression on her face. “Someone needs me?” she asked, her smile wry. “Two in one day—Imust be getting popular.” Her voice changed, as it had in the garden before. “Yes, Lori Hillwalker. The Green Lady hears you.” Turning, she walked away, crossing the stream on the log bridge.
    Daine wasn’t sure if she ought to follow. Looking around, she saw Queenclaw trotting toward her.
    â€œDon’t just stand there,” ordered the cat goddess, “pet me. Did she get another call?”
    Daine knelt to obey. “I don’t see why they would call on her. They liked her well enough when they needed a healer. The rest of the time, they thought she was silly, and odd . . . and shameful.” Queenclaw looked up, and Daine answered the unspoken question. “Well, there was me, and no husband, and there was— were always men around Ma.”
    â€œCats have more sense,” Queenclaw said. “We don’t keep toms or kittens about any longer than we must. Mind, your people don’t know it’s her they pray to. They call on the Green Lady, who started to appear over the town well in Snowsdale. She told them to summon her for help in childbirth and sickness, or for matters of the heart.”
    â€œI’ll be switched.” Daine was impressed in spite of