Naamah's Blessing

Have you learned it?” he asked Bao.
    “Yes,” Bao whispered.
    “Very well.” Raphael waved one hand and the black tide of ants receded. I was weak-kneed with relief as Bao’s figure reemerged unharmed, his face rigid with anger and horror.
    “Elua have mercy, man!” Septimus Rousse’s voice cracked. “Why in the name of all that’s sacred are you doing this?”
    “I said I was sorry about Denis,” Raphael said irritably. “Gods! I didn’t
want
to kill him. He was my friend! I just couldn’t take the chance. Moirin knows why. Don’t you, Moirin?”
    “Caim’s gift,” I said faintly. “The language of ants.”
    Raphael nodded in approval. “Exactly so. Mind you, I’m not sure if Denis
could
have learned to control them,” he said thoughtfully. “It is no easy thing to learn to coax one’s glands to produce the proper scents. I did, but I’m… special.”
    I stared at his beautiful face, at the sparks flickering in his eyes like the tail end of a lightning strike barely glimpsed, and I remembered the spirit Focalor, the Grand Duke of the Fallen, with his incandescent eyes breathing Claire Fourcay’s life-force into me, attempting to pour his own essence into Raphael de Mereliot. “He’s still inside you, isn’t he?” I asked. “Focalor?”
    “A mere pinch.” Raphael demonstrated with thumb and forefinger. “But it’s growing stronger. Like all numinous beings, it thrives on worship.” He glanced at the ants and the Quechua with equal affection. “And with your aid, Moirin, I believe I’ll be able to summon the rest of him on my own terms this time.”
    “No.” I shook my head. “I won’t do it.”
    Raphael lifted one finger. The river of ants poured over Bao’s feet, climbing to his knees. “You may wish to rethink that position.”
    “Don’t,” Bao said through gritted teeth. “Gods! Forget about me! Someone just kill him!”
    “Oh, I don’t advise any of you try.” Raphael circled his finger and the black river divided into multiple streams, ants flowing across the floor, scaling new targets, crawling over clothing and under armor. Someone choked back a sob.
    “Stop!” I cried. “Raphael, please!”
    He looked mildly at me. “Then you agree to aid me?”
    “This isn’t you,” I said to him in despair. “Name of Elua! Raphael, no matter what’s passed between us, you’re a healer!
That’s
who you are, what you are!”
    “No.” Tucking Bao’s staff under his arm, Raphael regarded his hands. “That’s what I was. The gods gave me a gift, and saw fit to mock me with it.” When he looked back at me, his expression was bleak. “They took my parents when I was a boy, and too weak to save myself. They gave me a taste of power with you, and took it away.” He raised his voice. “They took Jehanne from me, Moirin! She died hemorrhaging before my eyes, bleeding out her life to give birth to another man’s child, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, nothing I could do to save her, because
you weren’t there
!”
    “I know!” I shouted at him, helpless tears in my eyes. “Do you think that knowledge is not a dagger in my heart?”
    “Moirin,” Bao murmured, glancing at the ants covering his lower legs. “I do not think you should antagonize him.”
    “Even that was not enough!” Raphael shook his head, his face grim. “They took my sister Eleanore from me, mocking me with a disease I could not cure. Do you know that great feat of healing I’ve accomplished on my own?” He pointed at Eyahue and Temilotzin, both of whom had been motionless and dumbstruck since we entered the throne room. “I taught a nation of bloodthirsty savages to inoculate themselves against the killing pox so that they might go on worshipping death and sacrificing innocent victims.” His face twisted. “What a piece of irony is that?”
    “We can’t know the will of the gods,” I said softly. “What you didwas a wondrous thing. Mayhap it will alter the course of history for the better.”
    “I am past caring what the gods will.” Raphael’s voice was hard, hard as stone. “I will do what
I
will. Now, Moirin.” He gestured, and the tide of ants crawled higher. Behind me, someone was weeping in fear. “Will you aid me?”
    “Aye,” I said in defeat. “I will.”
    “Swear it,” Raphael said. “Swear it on the sacred oath of your people.”
    I licked my dry lips. “I swear by stone and sea and sky, and all that they encompass, that I will aid you. I