The Realms of the Gods by Tamora Pierce

flight.
    â€œIn the Divine Realms, we observe mortal affairs,” said Broad Foot, waddling into the room. “Liquid is the most reliable, but flame and mirrors work. Mortals who visit tell us that in their sleeping, just before they wake, they hear what is said as well.”
    â€œIs it possible to observe specific people and events?” inquired Numair.
    â€œYes,” replied the duckmole. “It is how Sarra could observe you, Daine. With practice, you could master it in a week or so, and hear as well as see what goes on in the mortal realms.”
    Numair picked up the mirror and sat on the bed.
    â€œWe’ll finish our chat later ,” Daine told him, standing. “I’m not done with you!” He was not listening. With a sigh, she left him, trying not to use the furniture for support.
    The animal god followed her into her room. “Are you well?”
    â€œJust tired is all.” Sitting on the bed, she rubbed her face. “Maybe climbing that bluff wasn’t the cleverest thing to do my first day out of bed.”
    The duckmole vanished from the floor, reappearing beside her on the coverlet. Careful not to bump him, Daine lay back. “Of all times for him to go protective on me. Maybe he ate something that was bad for him.” She closed her eyes.
    â€œMaybe he loves you,” Broad Foot said.
    She didn’t hear. She was already asleep.

    In her dream, a pale wolf approached. Instead of theplumed tail that her kind bore proudly, the wolf’s was thin and whiplike. “Rattail!” Daine ran to meet the chief female of the pack that had helped to avenge Sarra’s murder. It didn’t seem to matter that Rattail was dead, or that a nasty female named Frostfur had taken her place in the pack.
    When she was close, the wolf turned and trotted away.
    â€œWait!” Daine shouted, and followed.
    Rattail led her down a long, dark hall, stopping at a closed door. When the girl caught up, the wolf held her paw to her muzzle, as if to say “Hush!” Daine knelt and pressed her ear to the door.
    â€œGainel, Uusoae’s power worries you too much.” While Daine had never heard that booming voice before, she knew that the speaker was Mithros the Sun Lord, chief of the gods. “We have always contained her. She has not the power to break through the barrier between her and us.”
    â€œIf she’s got no power, how is she holding her own against you for the first time in a thousand years?” Daine stifled a gasp. That was Carthak’s patron, the Graveyard Hag. “She’s using tricks we’ve never seen before, and I don’t like it. You’re fighting her the way you always have. What if she’s found a new way to overset us—a way that we’ve never encountered and don’t know how to defeat?”
    â€œShe will not consume us,” Mithros said flatly. “She cannot fight us all, and she has no allies in any realm but her own.”
    The dream faded as Daine opened her eyes. She was still tired; her legs and back felt limp. Her nose worked as well as ever, though. She breathed deeply, enjoying the flood of good smells in the air. One was stew, the other bread. She was hungry.
    Her dress should have been wrinkled from her nap,but when she flapped her skirts, the creases vanished. Quickly she splashed water on her face and combed her hair, then went outside, hearing voices from the garden.
    There was a bit of sunlight left, but globes of witch-fire hung over the table, growing brighter as night fell. Three men stood when she arrived. Sarra, Broad Foot, Queenclaw, and the badger nodded to her. Weiryn gestured to the new male. “Daughter, this is Gainel, Master of Dream, and one of the Great Gods. Gainel, my daughter, Veralidaine.”
    The girl looked up into a pale face framed by an unruly mane of dark hair. The eyes were shadowy pits that stretched into infinity. Staring into them, she thought that she