Dogs and Goddesses Read online

  “Do not grieve, my goddess,” Mina said, drawing closer. “For I am faithful, and the Worthams are strong, and we will stay by you until the others learn—”

  Kammani lifted her head, a new focus for her anger in front of her. “Why must the others learn, Mina?”

  Mina stopped, confused.

  “Samu asked why we needed posters and auditions. If millions of people called my name, why are they not here, worshiping me?”

  Mina’s eyes slid left, and Kammani thought, You stupid little bitch.

  “COME TO ME,” Kammani said, and Mina came to her and stood before her. “WHERE ARE THOSE WHO CALLED ME?”

  “Well.” Mina drew a deep breath. “I looked into that because I thought they just couldn’t find the temple. And when I couldn’t find any of them, I Googled for your name.”

  Kammani frowned, her rage momentarily sidetracked. “Googled?”

  “It’s…” Mina frowned. “Well, one thing it is, is a way of finding out what people are looking for. So I Googled for ‘Kammani.’ And there’s a place in India, and a song on YouTube, and some stuff in foreign alphabets that I couldn’t read, but there wasn’t anything about … you.” She stopped again, and Kammani felt her heart beat faster.

  “So no one is looking for me,” she said. “Then where are all the people who called my name?”

  Mina shifted.

  “MINA.”

  “Well…” Mina swallowed. “Since I couldn’t find anything under ‘Kammani,’ I tried ‘Kami.’ My mother said that was also your name, one that your worshipers of old used, and I really think it’s much better than Kammani; that’s why I put it on the posters—”

  “Mina.“

  Mina smiled weakly. “Did you know it’s Japanese for ‘Divinity’?”

  “No one was looking for Kami, either?” Kammani said, feeling hollow, as if a desert were trying to open inside her.

  “No, they were,” Mina said. “Kind of. The first search on the page was for Kami. But it wasn’t you.” She closed her eyes and spoke very fast. “Two famous Hollywood stars had a baby and named it Camisole, but they call her Cami and over a million people misspelled it and typed it into the search engine as ‘Kami. … ’ ” She looked helpless for the first time since Kammani had met her.

  “I don’t understand,” Kammani said.

  “They didn’t call your name,” Mina said. “You were Googled here by accident.”

  “Accident?” Kammani said, still trying to understand.

  “Nobody knows who you are,” Mina said. “You’re a … typo.”

  The desert opened, a bleak emptiness that filled her entire being, even though she didn’t know what a typo was.

  Mina caught her arm. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, holding Kammani up as she sagged. “This world needs you; you can save it. We can save it. It doesn’t matter.”

  I wasn’t called. Without belief, I do not belong here.

  Four thousand years of sleeping beneath the sand, forgotten forever, not remembered now. I’m dead, Kammani thought, and sank to the steps before her altar, dragging Mina down with her. I will die forever this time.

  Mina shook her arm. “We will bring them back. You will be Kami, their new guru.”

  “I feel … strange,” Kammani said as the weight settled over her again.

  “The people need you,” Mina said, her voice urgent. “You must lead them. You will see, they will come tomorrow, some of them, and you’ll wear the suit I got you and talk to them as if they’re people, not slaves, and then more will come, and they will see your beauty and your wisdom and you will rule them.”

  “I feel … heavy,” Kammani said, and put her face in her hands. “There is no hope, Mina. Everything is so dark. I have never felt like this before.”

  “You’re just depressed,” Mina said. “And who wouldn’t be after the day you’ve had?”

  “Depressed?” Kammani said.

  “Depression is a real problem in this world,” Mina said. “But don’t worry, there are pills for that. My mother has a medicine chest full of them. I’ll bring you some later. The thing to remember now is that this world needs you.”

  Depression, Kammani thought. That’s this horrible feeling. This world is full of plagues and darkness. I’m supposed to cause those, not be afflicted by them. I hate this fucking world.

  “Did you hear me?” Mina said. “This world needs you.”

  Kammani turned to look at her. The girl was crazy, but there was the light of truth in her eyes.

  This world needs me.

  “You will rule us.”

  I will rule them.

  “You are the goddess,” Mina whispered, closer than she’d ever been before.

  “I am the goddess,” Kammani said.

  “I’ll get you some anti-depressants in the morning,” Mina said.

  “All right,” Kammani said.

  “Now rise,” Mina said, and Kammani stood.

  “Will they come to the meeting tomorrow?” she asked Mina, unsure and hating it.

  “Some,” Mina said. “Not many. We’ll start small. But your reputation will spread. What you will do for them will make many come. You will rule again.”

  “Yes,” Kammani said, knowing that she was closing her eyes to the truth, that she had not been called, that she had no place in this world—

  But they need me to rule them.

  And I will not die.

  “And I will be at your side,” Mina said, and Kammani looked at the girl, at the slyness and the ambition and the death in her buglike eyes.

  Whatever it took, even if she had to keep Mina at her right hand, she would not die.

  She straightened, trying to banish doubt and fear. There were ways of making sure that people followed her. She had Bun’s and Gen’s power now. Tomorrow more people would come. Enough to begin. She fought her way past the darkness of depression to the old world she knew. The ways she knew.

  “I will rule them,” Kammani said to Mina, who relaxed and nodded. “But we will not do this with money and weight loss. We will do this the old way. They will come to me, and I will warn them of the danger in the air, and tell them that if they are faithful to me, the swarm will not touch them.”

  “Swarm?” Mina said, tense again. “What swarm?”

  “I will send a swarm,” Kammani said, remembering how it had been.

  “Okay, that could be a PR disaster,” Mina said.

  “The faithful will be unscathed, but those who do not believe will be laid low.”

  Mina sighed. “Everybody in my family is faithful, right?”

  “Yes,” Kammani said.

  “Well, if you need a swarm, you need a swarm.” Mina frowned, thinking. “We’ll start with you in the business suit and you tell them how following your ways will make them thin and young and keep them protected from evil, and then you bring up the swarm. First the carrot, then the stick.”

  Kammani frowned at her. “Carrot?”

  “Never mind,” Mina said. “Trust me, it’s better that way.” She straightened and looked at Kammani directly, no longer subservient. “It’s my turn to be invested. Make me your priestess now. And then I’ll need more of the tonic. A lot more.” She climbed the steps to the altar and then returned to hand Kammani a collar of lapis, carnelian, and gold, the symbol of her priestesshood. There had been seven on the altar. Bun and Gen wore two, Vera’s had spilled on the steps, three more were waiting for the Three, and this one…

  Kammani took the collar. If she invested Mina, she’d draw on her power. She looked into Mina’s crazy black eyes and hesitated, but the power there was strong, much stronger than Gen and Bun together, almost as strong as the Three, and her need for it was great.

  “COME,” she said, and led Mina up the steps.

  Tomorrow she would warn of the swarm, and on Thursday it would descend.

  That’ll show them who the goddess is around here, she thought, and felt much better.

  Shar made sure Abby got