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The two Goddesses

  “You may not have heard of me—I’m from Ireland. But the cat-girl over there was once worshiped by the Phoenicians,”

  Ana continued.

  “Don’t share too much about me, crow-face,”

  Tania cut in sharply, sparking another quarrel.

  Rodrigo pressed on:

  “If you’re goddesses, why didn’t you save my people? Or are you demons? Because I know there is only one God, our Lord Jesus Christ. What are you?”

  Tania put a hand to her face and muttered:

  “This will be harder than I thought.”

  Ana reached out her hand.

  “Touch my hand,” she said.

  Nervous, Rodrigo did.

  “See? Nothing’s wrong. I’m not here to eat your soul. I’m no monster. Don’t fear me.”

  Her smile calmed him, and the warmth of her hand soothed the blind hatred that had consumed him.

  Tania then stepped closer and pressed a finger to Rodrigo’s chest.

  “In that heart of yours flows divine blood. That’s why you were different, why your arm remained even after I severed it. A wound like that would have killed any normal human. And because of that divine blood, you are forbidden to interfere in the human world. Your power could alter history itself.”

  Rodrigo’s mind reeled.

  “Me, a god? Impossible!”

  Ana leaned in.

  “If you don’t believe us, listen to the words coming from your mouth. That isn’t Spanish or Galician, is it?”

  Rodrigo froze—realizing she was right. He hadn’t been speaking Galician at all. Since meeting Tania, he had spoken and understood a language he did not know.

  “The divine tongue,” Tania explained.

  “All beings with divine blood can speak and understand it instinctively.”

  Rodrigo shook his head, muttering:

  “It must be sorcery… witchcraft.”

  But deep down, doubt stirred within him.

  Rodrigo’s thoughts turned back to his people. He remembered the captives, the women and children taken by Almanzor’s men. His heart clenched.

  “Before anything else,” he said, looking at Tania with grave concern,

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  “I must speak of my people. I know Almanzor captures women and children as slaves. The boys are castrated, turned into eunuchs. The women are forced into harems as prostitutes or concubines for powerful men. Please—let me save the children at least. They don’t deserve such a fate.”

  Tania’s eyes flickered with unease.

  “No… no, we can’t allow that, Rodrigo. Right?”

  But she quickly averted her gaze, her voice wavering.

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to let go of the human world, but I can’t let you expose yourself further.”

  Ana looked at him gently.

  “I know it hurts, Rodrigo, but it is forbidden. You wouldn’t want Tania punished for disobedience, would you?”

  Rodrigo clenched his fists.

  “I worked as a caravan guard. I learned to hide my power and fight as a human. I swear I’ll use none of my divine strength—I’ll fight only as a human. Please, let me have this one last battle as a human.”

  Tania stood silent for a long moment, then sighed.

  “All right. I’ll go with you, to make sure you don’t draw too much attention.”

  Ana’s eyes widened.

  “Tania… you can’t mean—”

  But Tania shook her head.

  “Don’t worry, Ana. It’s natural he would want to fulfill one last wish as a human. I’ve never seen a case like this in my life. We can’t force him to abandon everything at once.”

  Ana smiled faintly and nodded. She released Rodrigo’s hand, which he had been clutching in desperation.

  Rodrigo rose from the bed, looking around. He expected a dungeon—but it was more like an inn room. A large straw bed, a small table with plates of food where the girls had eaten, sunlight streaming through the window. The air smelled of delicate perfume. A clean set of clothes lay beside him.

  Ana beamed at him.

  “Would you like to eat something before you leave, Rui?”

  At the sound of that name, Rodrigo blinked.

  “Rui?”

  Ana flushed.

  “Forgive me. Rodrigo, may I call you Rui? In western Spain, don’t they use that for Roderick—Rodrigo? I didn’t mean to be too familiar.”

  “I don’t mind,”

  he said softly.

  “Well then, Rui, we’ve got lentils and fresh bread—well, three hours old, but still good,”

  Ana joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “No, I’m in a hurry,”

  Rodrigo muttered—just as his stomach growled.

  Ana laughed.

  “Come on, eat a little. My brute of a friend drained your strength, and you’ll need it.”

  Rodrigo gave in, and the three shared lentils, bread, and wine. For the first time since the massacre, he felt a flicker of warmth.

  “Good, isn’t it?” Ana teased.

  “Tania made it. She may look like a beast, but she can cook.”

  Tania blushed furiously.

  “Damn it, Ana. At least I’m useful. If it were up to you, we’d be eating raw meat because you can’t even light a fire.”

  Rodrigo chuckled faintly, reminded of meals with his mother and friends. For a moment, grief overwhelmed him, and he fought back tears.

  Ana saw him and immediately embraced him.

  “It’s all right. We’re here.”

  Tania looked on, her amber eyes betraying a glimmer of melancholy.

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