Dogs and Goddesses Read online

  “Yes,” Kammani said, wishing she could smite somebody. It explained where the rest of her damn temple was and why Samu-la-el had not come to her in the altar room. He probably rose in the top of the temple as usual, saw Sharrat, and stayed to try his luck.

  “I have your symbol painted on my bedroom wall,” Mina said. “I painted it on there. Professor Summer does not know you, but I have waited for you since my birth.”

  Kammani felt … she searched for the word … sad. No, lost. No, hopeless … No, that wasn’t it, either.

  She sighed. Mina was hers and Bun and Gen would follow at her command, but it wasn’t enough. Samu-la-el had risen to Sharrat, not her, and no one was flocking to her worship except the Worthams, a sizable family, but not numbering in the thousands, not in the numbers that had called her name to raise her. She needed those thousands—

  Mina grabbed Umma and dragged her out from under Kammani’s chair.

  Umma barked, “Unhand me, insane one!” and struggled until Bikka barked, “It’s good.”

  “I am your most faithful priestess,” Mina said, glopping lotion on Umma.

  Kammani thought again of the Three. If she had them with her …”None of the Three have families, children?”

  “No.” Mina massaged the lotion carefully into Umma’s skin. “They’re all only-children and they’re all the last of their lines.” She smiled over the dog’s little head. “The Wortham line has many descendents. We are strong.”

  How fortunate, Kammani thought. Many Minas.

  She had to have the Three. “What do they want? What are their hearts’ dreams?”

  Mina rolled her eyes. “To run a coffee shop, make websites, and teach history. They don’t have dreams.” The contempt was thick in her voice. “They’re just … there.” She let go of Umma, who crawled back under Kammani’s chair, redolent of coconut now, too. “But I—”

  “Professor Summer wants to finish her grandmother’s book,” Gen said from beside them, and Kammani started, surprised Gen had been listening. “It’s all she talks about when she’s not in class. ‘This damn book,’ she says.” Gen patted her little fox hound. “How hard can it be to finish a book?”

  “You never even finished your paper for her class,” Bun said, giggling.

  “That’s different,” Gen said, giggling, too. “I was thinking about other things.”

  “Guys,” Bun said, and punched her.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think Professor Summer is thinking about guys,” Gen said, and they both collapsed laughing.

  “Why not?” Kammani said.

  Bun and Gen giggled harder.

  “She’s old,” Mina said, drawing Kammani’s attention back to her. “She’s almost fifty. The days she can serve you are numbered, but I am—”

  “I am over four thousand years old,” Kammani told her.

  “But you are the goddess,” Mina said, bowing her head. “You are eternally young.”

  “I am eternal,” Kammani said. “Young has nothing to do with it.”

  Mina sat back. “So what’s our plan? Because I—”

  “Plan?” Kammani frowned at her. “My priestesses will return to the temple in four days and recognize their destinies, and then we will draw together the people of this world who called me to them.”

  “Right,” Mina said. “How will the people come?”

  “They called me,” Kammani said, annoyed. “I am their goddess. They must come. They are born to serve me.”

  “Yeah, that changed,” Mina said. “People don’t live to serve anymore. They have free will.”

  Kammani frowned. “What?”

  “Free will changed everything,” Mina said. “People make choices now and most of them put themselves first. They are not worthy.”

  Free will. That made no sense. Mortals were born to serve the gods. Kammani looked around at the sun worshipers and began to feel … unsure. It was a new feeling for her, closely akin to the other new feeling she couldn’t name. This damn world. “The temple. They’ll come to the temple.”

  “How will they know?” Mina lifted her chin again, the gleam back in her eye. “If they wanted to serve you, how would they know you’re here? You’re going to have to reach them. You can’t send out three hundred million flyers. I can—”

  “How many?” Kammani said, shocked.

  “Three hundred million just in this country.” Mina leaned forward. “That’s why television is the way to go. You can’t just announce that you’re the goddess and start bossing people around. But don’t worry; I have a plan.”

  Kammani nodded, trying to process the immensity of the number as Mina leaned in even closer, avid now.

  “You need something to get people’s attention. Like ‘Thin Thighs in Thirty Days,’ or ‘Make a Million Dollars at Home in Your Spare Time,’or ‘Get Younger-Looking Skin.’ I’ve been researching for the things that people are most interested in, and they’ll come to hear about those things, and then when they’re in, you can tell them that they must follow you.”

  Kammani looked at her, truly angry now. “But they called me. I am their goddess. They shouldn’t need to be told.”

  “People don’t want another religion,” Mina said, with obvious patience. “And they sure as hell don’t want to serve. They want to be thin; they want to be rich; they want to be young. Give them one of those, and they’ll worship you forever. I can show you how to bring them in, I have researched on the Internet and found a way. I will be—”

  “Is this a diet thing?” Bun said, sounding alert for the first time, and Kammani pulled back from Mina again. “Because I might come to that.”

  “No, you won’t,” Gen said. “You don’t go anywhere that doesn’t have French fries.”

  Bun giggled.

  “But I will be there, so you must be present to serve me,” Kammani said to them, and both girls looked at her, nodded politely, rolled their eyes at each other, and stretched out in the sun again.

  Two grease spots on the stone, Kammani thought, and restrained herself with difficulty. If she kept blasting priestesses, she’d end up doing everything for herself. That would be a nightmare. But this damn free will. Whose blasphemous idea was that? She looked down at Gen and Bun as they lay in the sun, peaceful and mindless. “YOU WILL COME TO ME WHEN I CALL YOU AND YOU WILL OBEY AND SERVE ME.”

  Bun looked up at Kammani, blinking as if she was unsure about what was happening. “Okay.”

  Gen didn’t say anything—she looked as if she was trying to puzzle something out, but she didn’t object.

  “We don’t need them,” Mina snapped.

  “Yes, we do,” Kammani said, looking at Bun, who smiled back, dumb as sand but now obedient, plus cheerful and sane, a huge improvement over Mina.

  “Not them,” Mina hissed to Kammani. “I can—”

  “You will come to me Tuesday at the next class,” Kammani said to Bun and Gen, and then she noticed Baby panting heavily under her tiara. “Take your dogs out of the sun now.”

  “Yes.” Bun stood up, her healthy round body practically bursting with youth and fertility. “We’ll come when you call.”

  “We’re really good at posters and stuff like that,” Gen said, still looking confused but game. “We’ll be your right-hand women.”

  “No.“ Mina’s face twisted as the girls folded their blanket to go. “I serve at your right hand,” she said under her breath to Kammani.

  “You are but one of seven,” Kammani said, thinking, And not for long if you don’t stop overreaching.

  Mina drew back, stung.

  “Come on, Baby.” Bun walked toward the stone stairs, and the fat old poodle sighed and waddled across the roof after her. “See you tomorrow, Mina,” she called back. “You can help with the posters.”

  Mina reached out her hand and closed it into a fist, and Baby collapsed.

  Bun screamed, “Baby!” and Mina said, “Maybe if you concentrated on taking care of your dog instead of interfering—”

&nbs