The Realms of the Gods by Tamora Pierce Page A

saw the movement of stars in the distance—or was it Rattail? Cold hands took hers, jolting her back to the present. The god brushed Daine’s fingers with a polite kiss.
    â€œHe says it is a pleasure to meet you,” Weiryn told her. “You must excuse him—as the Dream King, he’s only permitted to speak to mortals in dreams. We gods hear him”— Weiryn tapped his skull— “but you won’t.”
    Daine curtsied to the god. “I’m honored, Your Majesty.”
    Gainel smiled, and took a seat at Sarra’s right. Numair was at Weiryn’s left; a place had been left for Daine between the mage and the duckmole. She stumbled, trying to climb over the bench. Numair caught her and braced her arm until she was seated.
    As utensils clattered and plates were handed around, there was no way to avoid noticing that the company included a duck-beaver creature; a man crowned with antlers; and a lanky, pallid man who seemed to fade into the growing shadows even while his face shone under witchlights. More than anything Daine had observed since she and Numair were yanked out of that orchard, that dinner table said that Sarra Beneksri was not the Ma she had lived with in Galla.
    The animal gods, her parents, and Gainel spoke mind to mind—she could see it in the way they turned their heads, moved their hands, or leaned forward. Daine concentrated on her food. She was fascinated by the variety. She hadn’t seen a cow, wheat field or grape arbor, but there was wine, bread, and cheese as well as the hare. Even knowing that the hare god lived on in a fresh body, she couldn’t bring herself to have its meat. When the wine pitcher came to her, she passed it to Numair without pouring any for herself. If the food and water of the Divine Realms made her senses reel, she didn’t want to think what liquor might do.
    Numair asked Weiryn a question, keeping his voice low.
    â€œPetition the Great Gods, for all the good it will do.” Weiryn’s reply could be heard by all. “They are too busy fighting Uusoae to ferry mortals back home. They won’t even reply to mind calls from us lesser gods.”
    Numair looked at Gainel. “Forgive me,” he said, “but our friends are hard pressed. Might you send us home? You are one of the Great Gods, and you don’t look as if you are locked in combat with the Queen of Chaos.”
    Gainel smiled, shadowed eyes flickering, and shook his head.
    â€œHe says you forget your myths,” Sarra told them. “Of the Great Gods, the Dream King alone cannot enter the mortal realms. He can only send his creatures to do his work there.”
    â€œForgive me,” Numair said politely. “I had forgotten.”
    On her foot, caught in a beam of light that fell between her and Numair, something moved. Reshaping her eyes to those of a cat, she looked harder. An inky shadow had thrown a tentacle over her bare foot. Was it the darking that Weiryn had shot?
    â€œPass the cheese?” asked Broad Foot, nudging her with his head. She obliged, forking slices onto his plate.As the duckmole happily mashed cheese in his bill, she glanced at her companions. Queenclaw mildly batted a piece of bread to and fro. Her mother seemed to be conversing with Gainel, while Numair tried to learn from Weiryn if a human mage might have better luck in approaching the rulers of the Divine Realms.
    â€œI don’t see why you fuss about it so,” Weiryn snapped. “Come the fall equinox, you at least will be dragged back to your wars, and I wish you joy of them!”
    â€œThey don’t give me joy, and I didn’t ask for them,” Numair said, voice tight. “Would you prefer we let Ozorne and his allies roll over us?”
    Daine palmed some cheese. Breaking off a piece, she let her hand drop to hang beside her leg, and offered the tidbit to the creature. Tentacles grabbed the cheese and pulled it into the shadow. Daine