Paladins of the Pickle Goddess

Well, I didn’t expect to see you here so soon, said Andrena.

I wasn’t on the ship. There were no guards for me to fight, even as I raised my hands, blood rushing. There was only the quiet click of the ice in her drink, and the small little stirring as she moved around her spoon. She lifted the glass, and with a slurping sound, drained more of it. It was a strange, dark color. Thick as blood.

We were on a grassy field, surrounded by flowers that bloomed in every direction, their petals covering any sign of leaves. The air was golden with motes of pollen, interspersed with bees.

Andrena lay upon a low love-seat, eyes half-lidded. The living-wood staff had been lain to the side, as though she would take it up as soon as she rose. The crown of bees had stayed, unfortunately, and the eternal antlers still crawled up as far as I could see.

Beyond her there was only the field. Above her, there was only darkness.

At her feet, reading a book, was an old woman. I had never seen her face before, but her look of arch amusement made me think I should recognize her.

“Am I- did I die?” Not a proper way to greet a goddess, probably, but I had never been polite to Andrena and I wasn’t going to start now. I was overcome with horror. Not by the thought of dying, which I had become familiar with long ago, but with the thought of dying on that ship, before I fixed anything.

Really. It was a remarkably bad showing.

Still, I couldn’t think of anything else to explain my situation. We had to be in the fields of the gods- the palace, even, if Andrena was here. I swallowed, suddenly nauseous. Thirty-six suddenly felt very young, after all.

Not as such, no. Your head is simply ringing with enough clarity that I… Andrena’s eyes snapped up to me, and- yes, that was definitely amusement there. I felt more fear crawl down my spine. Let’s just say, I had enough time for a quick chat.

I felt myself grabbing at my head, just to check. Then, scrubbing at my eyes to stop the itching from the pollen, I approached the love-seat.

I didn’t know what the rules were, for humans visiting the land of the gods where they tucked away in the center of the world. Therefore, I wasn’t going to follow any of them. I approached Andrena.

Of course, don’t be shy, she said. Her lips didn’t move. Somehow she still managed to sound annoyed. No need to thank me for my hospitality. Not even my kindness, for hosting you in my realm. Just go on and-

“Voice Marcia, I suppose?” It only made sense for one person to be kneeling at Andrena’s feet, still in her mortal form.

The old woman looked up. She wasn’t familiar to me at all. Her hair was to her shoulders, in an old-fashioned twist, and she wore shining earrings that were much nicer than the rest of her clothing. She could have been any woman at the market, with a slightly nicer lace shawl than usual.

Any other day, I would have ignored her entirely. Then again, most days I wasn’t in the land of the dead.

“You don’t disappoint,” she said. Her voice echoed strangely, but at least she still moved her mouth. “I asked for someone sturdy.”

Excuse me. I’m the one that summoned her.

“As far as I recall, she was thrown here,” said Marcia. “Can’t I say hello? Be nice.”

I stepped half-back, expecting Andrena to lash out. She didn’t take rejection nicely. Yet at the comment, she laid back again, drinking again. Fine, she said. A bee swirled lazily around her finger, landing on the edge of her glass. Enjoy your useless mortal social niceties. Then I will ask about my Task.

She managed to make the word task echo, with bells in. It made my head hurt.

“Oh, get over yourself! She’s avenging me. She could at least get a drink.”

Before I could object, a drink was in my hand, and Marcia was reaching up to pull me down to sit. “I suppose it’s been a difficult few days for you,” she continued. “Weeks, maybe? I lose track of time, down here.”

It would be hard to keep track of time, I supposed. No one was meant to think about the mortal world once they earned a place in the realm of the gods. It was supposed to be a great reward; you could romp in the fields and work alongside the gods, until you tired of endless revels and chose to reincarnate.

Marcia didn’t look like she was reveling much. She folded over the page of her book and closed it, leaning back on the steps. “I don’t suppose you spoke to Amatus?”

The lighthouse-keeper. “I did. He was… doing well.” As well as he ever could, I supposed. “He missed you,” I added, hurried, in case she thought he’d moved on too quickly.

“Good, good.” Her fingers drummed on the cover of the book. I couldn’t make out the title; the words twisted on the cover. “And the girls-”

“The girls?”

“Well, the priestesses.”

“Angry,” I said. “Making lace.” I tried to sip the drink I’d been handed, in an attempt to avoid Marcia’s eyes. Then I saw the color of the liquid, the way it swirled and seemed to reflect endless stars where above me I knew there was only darkness, and I put the cup down on the steps.

Her shoulders lowered with obvious relief. “I suppose it will all turn out well. It’s just… I never expected to leave so quickly.”

Enough! You waste time. We don’t know how much time she’ll have here.

Andrena swung a leg off of her half sofa and prowled into the flowers. As she stepped down they grew up, vines grabbing at her like they wanted her power for themselves. She reached for my chin and forced me to look at her. She was barely my height, at that, but she still towered. I felt like I was back in the creek, her power forcing me over.

This time, she could touch me. She was as real as I was. More real, here. Her fingers still had no warmth, no pulse. There was only pressure. Andrena was pure belief made solid.

Her fingers tightened on my chin. What have you accomplished?

“I-“ I pulled away. I shouldn’t have any worldly feelings, not here, but I thought I could still sweat. I was definitely a bit damp somewhere. “Look, it’s been a long… few days. I’ve been doing my best.”

I demanded justice. Where is it?

“That’s very kind of you,” I said, “But these things can’t be-”

You must rush. There is only so much belief to go around. She cannot stay linked to me forever.

I glanced at Marcia again. Was that why she seemed so real, still? So tangible? Was Andrena… powering her, somehow?

Did it matter? I had already told Apis what I thought about all of this. I might as well tell Andrena too. “Look. I don’t know how much you’ve been watching, but I’ve failed. All right? There is no solution. Not that I can find. I’ve been searching for half a week, and all I’ve managed is to get locked in a ship with no way out.”

You… failed?

“Yes.” I stared at Andrena. She stared back at me. Her face was so perfectly carved, almost like a statue, that it was hard to discern expressions. But I thought she might be surprised.

You’re my chosen champion. You can’t fail.

“I can fail. I am failing. Sorry, but you chose wrong.”

I am the Goddess Andrena! When the stag prays for the doe, when a woman cries for her child! When the bee searches for the flower- that is me! You cannot possibly question-

“Everyone’s been there before,” I said. “A bit of a bind, your barkeep’s gone, and no one applies. Maybe you go the next town over and find the next man who can stand up straight in a stiff wind and knows what mead is. Fine, I understand. And I know I asked for it, a bit, with my prayer.”

Andrena didn’t respond. Below her, Voice Marcia laughed, voice low.

“But the time for that is over,” I finished. “Your gamble didn’t pay off. I’m not woman enough for the job. I’ve failed. So why don’t we shake on it, call it finished, and neither of us thinks about it again?”

For a moment, I thought I had convinced her. Andrena stared, eyes glowing.

You think I chose you because I had no one else?

“Yes. Of course you did.”

I offered the choice to seven others that day, said Andrena. She stepped back, her crown of bees buzzing wider and wider with her agitation. Of all of my offers, yours was the only one I completed. Do you know why?

I didn’t like any of this. The games she was playing, the way she was pulling me in. I didn’t know if I believed any of this. Still, I couldn’t help myself asking. “Why?”

You said no. You had vigor. Rebellion. That’s what I need.

“I don’t care why you chose me.” I looked away. Somehow, even though Andrena was rude, self-possessed and bossy, I felt bad for disappointing her. Voice Marcia, too. The sad way she’d asked after her friends, her family. In another life, I would have wanted to help her find justice. In this life, I wasn’t enough. “I already told you the truth. I can’t be your Voice.”

What? I didn’t choose you as my Voice.

“What do you mean, you didn’t choose me as your Voice? You told me I would be your mortal instrument!” Now I was just angry. I pulled back, gave her a scowl. Andrena’s brow was furrowed in confusion.

You’re my Paladin. I won’t give you up.

“Paladin? What is this, last century?” The last god I could think of who had enlisted Paladins was poor, ill-fated Ursus, who had lost the Northern War and the Empire while he was at it. I shuddered. Was that going to be my fate? Sent into battle and then abandoned at the last second?

No one had ever gotten his temple to admit what had happened, so complete was the failure. After that war, there hadn't even been any formal temples to speak of for Ursus; just wild, wandering priests. Known for feats such as occasionally hunting deer and trying to speak to squirrels.

“Wait-”

Why would you think you were the Voice? I imbued you with none of my magic.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I thought you were- delayed, maybe. Slow.”

All of that belief is being used to keep Marcia in a solid form here. I could not waste any of it on you. Andrena flicked a hand dismissively. Besides, a Voice’s magic is good for growing plants, for soothing hurts. Not for investigating a crime.

“So, what, I got nothing?”

I know my magic is depleted, but I hardly gave you nothing! This is just what I should have expected, working with such an undeveloped child!

“Excuse me! I’ve had no support, no magic, no weapon.” I scoffed. “Are you asking me to thank you for one wagon ride?”

No weapon?

“I have a staff, I suppose, but that’s hardly anything.”

I give you an Abyssal Blade, and this is the thanks I get?

I stared at her in response. “What do you mean, Abyssal Blade?”

If I’d had an Abyssal Blade- worthy of both capital letters, and worth its weight in gold- I wouldn’t have been having this conversation. I would have just poked it at Lady Sylvia and we would have been kindly escorted out.

Legend had it that just one swipe from the blade could send an unworthy soul to nest among the stars, cursed to remain there until the world was rolled close enough for them to reincarnate.

No one had seen one since the end of the Northern War, of course.

I’m sure I sent it, she said, frowning. She held her hands out. About this long? And this wide? With a gem in the hilt?

No. It couldn’t be.

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. She took my lack of response as an invitation to keep talking.

It has no name, but I sent it with a wandering priestess on her way up to the northern temple, she said. I went to quite a lot of trouble making sure that boy took it, too-

I grabbed for the drink where I had sat it down on the steps and took a long, deliberate sip. It tasted like home, my grandmother telling me she was proud of me. Like my first batch of oat-cakes. Like hot mulled wine after a rainstorm.

I awoke, groaning, to a splitting headache and pure darkness.

Warm fingers pressed against my forehead. “Elysia? Goddess below, I thought you were dead. You weren’t moving.”

I reached up, grabbed Apis’s wrist. “Please. No speaking of goddesses at the moment.”