Eric Flint: This Rough Magic

She shook her head. "I'm sorry Benito. There is nothing you can do about it. She's alive. But there is no way back."

Benito looked at her with eyes of flame. "Hear me… Priestess," he spat the word out. "I want her back from wherever you've hidden her. Alive, unhurt, now. Or there won't be any priestesses, or any temple. I'll hunt down all of you. And I won't send you to any play-play Lord of the Dead. I won't be stopped.

"WON'T."

The baby wailed at his anger, interrupting his tirade-he suddenly had to turn his attention back to the child, which would have been comical, except that it wasn't. There was heartbreak for him. He just hadn't figured it out, yet. "There, Alessia. It's all right. I'll fix it."

"You aren't letting yourself understand, Benito Valdosta." Renate had gathered herself by now, and stood straight, looking him directly in the eyes. "The Lord of the Dead is as real as your brother's Lion, or Eneko Lopez's Saint Hypatia. His kingdom is just as real. The magic that allows a living bride to serve as the channel for his power is as real as that which allows your brother to serve as channel for the Lion, or Lopez as the channel for his angels. The choice was hers to make. She has gone to spend the rest of her life in the Kingdom of the Dead. The real dead. You can kill me. I won't even try to resist. You can kill every priestess on the island. You can destroy the temples of Mother, of the great Goddess. All it would take would be enough gunpowder."

Somehow, that was starting to get through to him. Perhaps it was her conviction and her steadiness. Perhaps it was the Mother, reaching him past his anger.

"You could be an inhuman monster to make Emeric look pleasant," she continued, sternly. "Massacre dozens of innocent women. It wouldn't make any difference to Maria. Believe me, I didn't want to make this happen; in fact, I didn't make it happen at all, it just did. The priestesses and devotees have been dreading it. We are a peaceful fertility cult, and we have never taken an unwilling woman to be the bride. But there has to be a bride, an opposite for the Lord of the Underworld, just as there has to be a male as well as a female for fertility. And it has to be a fertile woman. I love my husband dearly, and still, I would have gone rather than Maria. But I couldn't. There was only one among us who could, and did, at the crucial moment."

She took a deep breath. His anger was fading, but the bleakness that was taking its place was painful to see. "Accept it, Benito. Accept it as you have accepted your daughter. No one comes back from the Kingdom of Aidoneus. She is trapped there until her body is returned to be buried with honor in the sacred glade. I'm very, very sorry, Benito. There is really nothing you or I can do, other than accept it and honor her sacrifice."

There were tears in Benito's eyes. But his voice was rock steady. "You can accept it. And the consequences. I'm not going to. I'll keep trying to find a way, if I have to study magic until the day I die." He pointed an accusing finger at her. "She wasn't due to die. You did this to her. I'm not finished with you-or this place-but I need to get Alessia out of your hell-hole. Besides, I want to mourn among decent people and not with a murderess. You can run if you like. But it won't help you."

Renate was a high priestess and not without pride. "I won't run. And I'm just as unhappy as you are."

"Ha."

"Benito, this was her choice; she was a willing sacrifice."

"Alessia and I aren't willing. And if I can't get her back, I'll at least see there are no more victims. I will clean up this rotten mess if it is the last thing I do."

He turned on his heel and walked away into the darkness, toward the cave-mouth, holding the baby in his arms.

He was scarcely out of sight when the two nymphs came sinuously out of the pool. "It had to be that one's lady-love, didn't it? You humans are such fools."

Now that Benito had gone, Renate allowed herself the weakness of tears. "She was willing, and she thought he was dead."

One of nymphs looked at her with disgust. The other stamped her foot. "And now he's going to blow up the sacred pools, dig up the glades, burn the groves."

"The great Goddess has always had the power to stop that. We endure."

One of the nymphs said dourly, "And who do you think the current embodiment of the great Goddess is? And how do you think she's going to respond to your requests for help, when she sees who you want help against? Especially if she thinks you deceived her about him being dead."

"I didn't know!"

One of the nymphs rolled her eyes. "You could have found out, though. Minor magic. And Aidoneus would have known. I've been through a fractious bride-period before. But that woman's lover was a fool and as ordinary as dung. This one… he's been on a knife-edge between good and evil-or, worse, what he's probably going to inflict on Corfu. The kind of narrow intolerant 'good' that's worse than evil, even."

"I don't see what you expect me to do."

"Nothing. As usual," said the one nymph cattishly.

Renate sighed. "If they could only talk. It's… it's all just a terrible misunderstanding. We all did it for the best."

"Well, let him talk. Let him go and see her."

Renate shook her head "Aidoneus can see out through the shadows and together they can affect all things living and dead, but short of being in the land of the dead they can't see each other. They can't talk."

"So let's send him there," said the one nymph, tugging at a tangle in her hair.

Renate drew herself up. "We don't kill."

The nymph clicked her tongue at her. "Oh, you don't have to be dead to go to Shadowkeep. That's the easy way. It's been done the hard way before a couple of times and by different ways, but you short-lifers have probably forgotten."

The one nymph turned to the other, cocking her head. "What do you think, Sister? Acheroussia?"

The first nodded. "If the limnaiad there is willing."

Renate sighed again. "Well, let me at least make sure the rituals of spring still happen this year."

"Very well. We'll ask Valdosta if he wants to visit the Lord of the Dead, and make arrangements with she of lake Acheroussia."

"It's my opinion," said Benito stiffly, "that even the Paulines are too lenient with witchcraft and magic. It's time they were both eliminated. I'm sorry you don't see things my way, Eneko. But I'm not going to let that stop me."

"The Church believes we will achieve more by a degree of tolerance, Benito."

"Tolerance is well and fine, Eneko Lopez. But tolerance doesn't mean making doormats of ourselves. The price of our tolerance is that they practice their religion within the constraints of our law and our society. If they step outside it-and if human sacrifice isn't stepping outside it then the Church, law, and society need a wake-up-I'm not going to sit back and turn a blind eye, even if you are."

Eneko Lopez shook his head. "I think you're allowing personal unhappiness to affect your judgement, Benito. This is not exactly 'human sacrifice.' Of course, the Church frowns on it…"

Benito stood up. "You can continue to dance around this, Eneko. I'm not going to."

He walked out, down toward the sea. Part of him longed to simply fling himself off the walls and down into it. To make an end of sorts. But… well, there was Alessia. She depended on him. And, right now, he depended on her. And there was work to be done.

As he was passing a street fountain, now gurgling with water-the Citadel had water, if not food-he heard someone call. He turned to see the Crenae nymph he'd followed to Alessia's rescue beckoning to him. "Valdosta."

"Alessia? Is she all right?"

"There are less-well-guarded crown jewels," sniffed the nymph sarcastically. "Anyway, you're worrying about nothing. The priestess wouldn't hurt a child, not even for her own life's sake."