Perhaps it had been unnecessary to call the Sun there; logically if any of the Helovian pantheon would have the ability or the inclination to help Mesec it would be the Moon. Even if Meg was doubtful of the Goddess’ capacity for compassion, the Sunspear also knew what it was to be a mother, the love that could live in one’s heart for their own children. In truth she had called upon her god for the sake of her own peace of mind; like Mesec had needed the security of a friend against his fear of the transformations, Meg had needed the presence of the Sun to feel safe in the presence of the Moon.

Even if her ignorance could not be denied, it was hard for Meg to find anything but distrust and suspicion in her heart. The Moon had made Gaucho, Meg’s captain and mentor, an unwilling puppet in series of murders. That was the only thing about the Goddess that Meg knew to be true and perhaps Cera had come to accept the Goddess’ lack of answers and found his way to peace through forgiveness but Meg certainly had not. “There are things in this world that are ugly, messy, and bring heartache…” So said the Moon, and Meg had thought it a fair description of the lavender lady.

Megaera was fixed in the pale gaze of the Goddess and was held there by a sickening dread: the black eyes, as always, spoke fire but her insides felt cold under that stare. How could she trust that the Goddess would cause anything but harm when even her smile made her want to recoil? Even with her God at hand the gut reaction to this fear in the Sunspear would have been to fight—with words or deeds—any manner might have been easier for her to sit there and be silent. The Sun God’s voice freed her, a timely reminder that he was here, that he at least supported her continued belief that Mesec belonged home in the Dragons Throat with the family he chose. That break in the tension was enough for Meg to break her gaze. The breath she had been holding escaped and almost unconsciously her body shifted, taking her a step toward the Sun.

Even as the Moon tried to usher her son away, it went against Meg’s every instinct to let him go. What if she hurt him? What if she turned him into the beast again and sent him on a murderous rampage? Uncertainty was etched across her face but even as she dithered Mesec reached out to reassure her. His touch was steadying, a returned bit of strength from what she had attempted to give him on their journey here. She smiled halfheartedly at him, wishing that he could do more than leave him be, but even as she searched his silver eyes the Sun spoke and she knew she must. “See that you do, or else I’ll worry.”

She stood back, leaving the mother and son to their private conference and turning again the God. He really was magnificent, even now she couldn’t help but appreciate his presence—it certainly went a long way to warm her should after the encounter with the moon. “Thank you for coming, though I am sorry to have disturbed you. I suppose it was childish to hope that you would be the only one to actually come.” Honest admissions, as with anyone she respected, fell from her lips if he would not begrudge hearing them. She paused, only now realizing fully that her quest was an an end. His praise was enough to steel her. “I am sorry, too, to have taken so long in returning. I couldn’t be sure that I had learned enough of what you wished to impart but I am glad I have not disappointed you. I want to worthy of my post, I hope that I can be… Is there anything else you would have of me?” To be a better leader, a better Sultana to her herd, a better mother to her children… There was nothing Meg wouldn’t do.