"You are an anchor to a god. You serve him before all others." She sniffs haughtily. "And he would not want you looking like an underfed waif."

I don't know if she's right or not, but sometimes it's easier not to argue. What do these people have against a nice sweater and jeans? It's like covering up boobs is grossly offensive to them.

Weirdos.

Since I’ve lost the battle in regard to my clothing, I let First fix my hair. She plaits it into an intricate, five-stranded braid that coils around the top of my head like a crown, and then gently fixes a few sparkling flowers into the plait. She rubs a sweet-smelling gloss onto my lips and my cheeks and then gives me a kiss right on the lips. "You look worthy of the greatest of gods’ attentions."

That was…weird. "Too bad for me that all I got stuck with is Aron, eh?"

First gives me an unhappy look. "You shouldn't say such things. They are gods."

I probably shouldn't, but it's clear First gets along a lot better with her goddess than I do with Aron. "I know. I just run my mouth. Aron can be…frustrating."

"He is a god," she murmurs with a small shake of her head. "He deserves our patience and understanding."

Yep, she has definitely not met the man. "You're right of course," I manage to puke out, and even put a smile on my face.

"Come. My lady will be waiting," First says, and with a flutter of her wings and a wave of her hand, she sweeps out of the room. I'm supposed to follow her, obviously. Except…no one gave me any shoes and I still feel naked in this dress.

I adjust the gauzy layers of my dress, patting them over my boobs and thighs. Here goes nothing. With a deep sigh, I follow her out of the room.

First walks ahead of me, her steps brisk despite her flowing gown, and I trot behind her, doing my best to keep up. It's difficult, because all I want to do is stop and stare. This place is amazing. I gape as we walk through crystalline hall after crystalline hall. It's like a fairy-tale palace made entirely of shining quartz. The floor is patterned crystal and shines like a diamond, but it's smooth and cool under my feet. We walk down one hall and I see a massive, icicle-like staircase that curves and descends into the depths of the Citadel. I peer over the railing and it looks like there are layers and layers to the citadel itself, all made of the same sparkling materials. It's fascinating and the place practically hums with an internal vibe that makes my hair prickle. It feels almost electric, but I doubt anything here actually runs off of power, so it must be magic. We pass by a large window and below, I can see the Dirtlands with white roads snaking through them. We're extremely high up, and when I comment on that to First, all I get is a haughty sniff in return, as if that should be obvious.

I try to remember everything Aron said to me about this place, but all I remember is magic. Magic magic magic, and that it pulls all of the life out of the surrounding lands. I wonder how First feels about that, but I bet she doesn't care. As long as it's what her goddess wants, she's cool with it. Seems kind of fucked up to me, though, if they’re killing Aventine and the surrounding area just so they can have a floating place to live.

The Citadel itself is a paradise, though. Other women pass by us, speaking in low voices, hands clasped in their wispy robes. They all have the pale, metallic hair, milky skin, and glittering wings that First does. Someone's singing off in the distance, and this entire place feels like a cross between a dorm and a church. Which is a weird intersection, but no one asked me, I suppose.

We descend the icicle-dripping staircase, and I'm glad I'm barefoot, because the steps themselves are rather slippery with the crystal surfaces. First walks down, wings bobbing, but others fly past us, and it makes me wonder why there's a staircase if everyone has wings. Finally, we get to the bottom and First takes me down another hallway. Then she pauses in front of double doors and turns to me.

"Do we need to wait to enter?" I whisper, because this place feels like somewhere you would whisper.

The look she gives me is patient, and she licks her finger and smooths a stray hair back from my brow, then takes the gathers of my dress and adjusts them out with a few tugs. So much for hiding the nips. When she's satisfied with my appearance, she turns and opens the double doors, then sweeps inside. "Follow me. My lady is waiting."

I follow. What else can I do?

The room itself is arching and vaulted, and it reminds me of a massive gazebo. Thin, fluting crystalline columns support the arching, glittering ceiling and the floor itself is a dull, polished patterned quartz that doesn't reflect the light. There are people gathered along the edges of the room, like an audience before a performer, and I notice idly that they seem to be both the crystal angels of the Citadel and normal people. First pushes through the crowd, sweeping past them as if she's got someplace important to be, and I trot after her as she heads to the front of the room.

There, on a dais, sits a lovely woman. It must be the goddess. The first thing I notice is that she's tiny. The throne itself is another crystal monstrosity with a fan of spikes arching along the back, but she seems dwarfed by it, her bare feet resting on a crystal step as if she won't quite reach the floor otherwise. She's not a child, though. Far from it. The goddess herself is dressed in a barely-there string of sparkling beads that seem to emphasize her bare breasts instead of hiding them. She wears another strand of beads around her waist and wispy, gauzy skirts that flow around her calves like a rippling waterfall. Her skin is a lovely copper, her eyes a piercing pale gray, and her hair is bound up in a sweep of pearls and knotted high atop her head, then cascades over her shoulder in a jet-black waterfall.

She's easily the most beautiful and most intimidating thing I've ever seen.

First's demeanor changes the moment we're in front of the goddess. Her steps grow more rushed, and then she sinks to her knees at the bottom of the dais, prostrating herself in front of the goddess. "My lady," she says, and it practically sounds like a moan of pleasure.

I'm not sure how to respond. Do I do the same? After a moment's hesitation, I get down on my knees and lean forward, putting my head to the cool floor.

"Arise," the goddess calls out. "I would see you for myself."

I don't know if I'm supposed to call out a greeting or if that'd be too familiar, so I stand there like a lump and let her look at me. Her gaze flicks over my face and hair, down my breasts—which are outlined in the gown—and farther down my figure. I feel oddly flushed at her scrutiny. It's strange, because she's remote and just a little bit terrifying, so I'm not entirely sure why I'm blushing.

"Not much better cleaned up," the goddess says, studying me. "What is your name, mortal?"

"Faith."

Her brows draw together. "Is that a joke? Do you mock me?"

Why does everyone have a problem with my name? "It's common where I'm from. Faith Hill, Faith Evans, uh, Faith No More…" And now I'm officially out of famous Faiths. Not that she's going to know who any of those people are.

"Mmm." The frown goes away but she continues to study me, and I feel a bit like a bug trapped under a glass. I do my best not to squirm when she indicates I should turn. I don't know why her opinion matters, but I feel like I want her to be pleased with how I look. I do a circle and then wait before her once more. Is she…going to dismiss me? The thought is disappointing. I have so many questions. After a long moment, Tadekha speaks. "Are you in pain?"