Liviana considered herself a patient person. She spoke for the goddess of mail, after all. If the trip took a little longer, it didn’t matter- so long as the message was delivered.

  Still, weeks into her journey north, she was beginning to lose confidence in her courier. They should have arrived weeks ago. Instead, they’d docked at a small town next to the border. Now she was stuck for the fourth day running in a tiny pub, staring out at the water and wishing she could just swim north.

  “No one understands the trials I’ve been through,” she told the mercenary across the table from him.

  Since he was currently passed out and snoring, he didn’t say anything in response. Liviana sulked back and took a sip of her milk. She had to do something. Even if she’d been happy with her surroundings- which she was not- this was a mission from her goddess.

  To think she’d originally been excited for this prospect! A way out of the endless paperwork and politics of the capital!

  Liviana gave the entire pub a glare. All of the surfaces were sticky, it smelled of sweat and the sea, and it held at least double the amount of people it had been planned for. On the fourth day of them being anchored here, the barkeep had run out of alcohol. If the look on her face was anything to measure by, they were about to run out of milk, too. Something had to give, and soon.

  As someone pushed by her to go and get a drink, Liviana reached out and snatched his sleeve. He turned back with a look of mild fear. Good.

  “You’ve heard about the progress,” she said. She found it was more efficient than a question.

  He frowned at her. She recognized him generally- he was a member of the crew, not a mercenary. It was easy to tell them apart by sheer mass. Not to mention the pitiful two knives he was carrying. “I don’t-”

  “There must be some reason,” she said. “I refuse to believe the weather has been horrible this whole time. It’s been a week!”

  “I-“

  She yanked him closer. “You will tell me what you know. Now.”

  He jerked out of her grip. “You’re just a kid,” he said. “Why did they let you on?” He looked at everyone else around. “I don’t think they hire mercenaries that early, do they?”

  For a moment, she let the power of Celeres shine through her eyes. “I have a message to deliver,” she said. “And for your information, I’m sixteen. That means I’m an adult.”

  His face went pale and he stepped a little farther away. “The captain’s been told there’s a navy ship waiting for us,” he said. “That’s all I know. I guess they think there’s going to be another war?”

  Liviana had to admit, a ship full of mercenaries had likely attracted some attention. Yet… “Another war? Do they think this is our army?”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The sailor groaned. “Why would I know? I clean the bilge. If you have a question about that, ask me. Otherwise-”

  Liviana held up a hand before he could start talking about the bilge. “You must know something. If not from your captain, then from gossip. Anything would help.” When he still looked reluctant, she added, “Do you not speak to anyone while you drink?”

  “It’s not like any of your folk would know,” he said, defensive. “But… the barkeep did say something about payments being missed for their beetle temple.”

  “Anything else?”

  He shrugged loosely. “She claimed the northern army has been paying for corpses? I’m pretty sure she was making that up, though. What would they do with them?”

  “Do you have any letters on you?”

  “What?”

  She curled her fingers demandingly and maintained eye contact. He coughed, then fumbled at the buttons of his jacket until he could pull it aside and remove a crumpled letter. “It’s not anything, ah…” He coughed. “It’s not for a lady’s eyes.”

  Liviana snatched it out of his grasp. Luckily, there was a candle nearby. She held it over and watched it light.

  “Wait!” said the sailor. He reached forward, wrestling Liviana for it. She kicked him in the calves and threw her remaining milk in his face. As he stumbled back, sputtering, the letter finally burned through.

  Liviana smiled. She could feel the power rushing through her veins. Her goddess was here.

  Ooh. You know I like them a bit saucy. The pigeon of Celeres perched on the edge of the table. She was visible only to Liviana, her golden eyes gleaming and a human voice coming out of her beak. She tilted her head, pecked once, and preened at her feathers. Well?

  Please, honored Celeres, thought Liviana. I am in need of your help.

  Anything for my favorite Voice. As always, her goddess’s praise warmed Liviana. She suppressed a smile before bowing her head.

  I wish to send a message, she told her. Could you contact the Goddess Andrena?

  There was an unusually long wait after that question. Finally, the pigeon of Celeres let out a disappointed trill. She is not responding to me. She must be busy elsewhere.

  That, or she was just a snob like always, but Celeres wasn’t going to say that to her Goddess. The sailor had managed to crawl upright now. “Hey! You’re going to make reparations, aren’t you? That was the only thing I had to remember my-”

  Liviana shoved him back down. She could hear a murmur from the pub at large- they were gathering attention. She needed to be done with this quickly. Could you bring one of your children to me? One that knows the way to the Crags.

  When the gods failed, one could always send a letter. The pigeon hopped closer, onto Liviana’s wrist. She lifted her goddess up so that she could receive a blessed tap of her beak. For you, of course. My child is outside now, if you would so choose.

  Thank you, said Liviana, and the goddess was gone in the next blink. It was left to her to stand up, step on the sailor who was still trying to get up, and push her way outside. Thankfully, she had enough paper and pens to scrawl out a quick message using the wall of the pub as a flat surface. Then, her goddess’s gift hopped closer, holding up a leg. Liviana frowned. She’d never seen an eagle messenger before.

  It glared at her. She shrugged and leaned forward, tying the message to its leg. “May your journey be blessed,” she told the eagle.

  The eagle had no response. It simply hopped off of the railing and snapped out its wings, catching a current and quickly disappearing from sight.

  Liviana sighed, then turned back to the pub. She might as well finish the fight she’d started.

  In the depths of night, a bear prowled the edges of the pit. It could hear the prey getting closer. Lights bobbed in the distance, getting ever closer. Yet it hungered more than that- more than anything could ever fill.

  The wind gusted. Above, an eagle cawed. It was flying low, ready to land. Unseasonable.

  A gift. The bear launched up and snapped it out of the air in one jump. One chew, one gulp, and the eagle was gone. Only a feather remained, drifting down to the ground.