《The Many Gifts of Malia》


 Chapter 1: "The Child

    I paused. Stared down at the child. Blinked. The child stared back. Blinked. Maintained an impassive face as it passed gas in my presence, at the very foot of my throne room stairs.


    I sighed. "No chosen ones, no special blessings, and no human sacrifices. Gave up on the first three centuries ago tomorrow, never gave the second, and the third I claimed to have given up for Lent but my followers never believed me."


    The child sat there, chubby cheeks giving it a toad like appearance, but failed to laugh at my joke.


    My robes rustled as I turned my back on the infant human and settled into my throne. I hadn''t had an audience in decades, mainly due to conceding my seat in the pantheon to my prot¨¦g¨¦ and sequestering myself in the abandoned temple on the edge of civilization. If the records were to be believed, my primordial predecessor had erected the place as a summer palace millennia ago, back when the surrounding bodies of water were more freshwater lakes and less rancid swamps. How someone had navigated the quagmire to leave this child here, and why, was beyond me.


    "Well, do you do anything?" I asked, fluttering my fingers at the child.


    He sniffed, an annoying clearing of snot rather than a quest for pity. Unfortunate. I''d rather have exterminated him for vain attempts at my sympathy than merely being a nuisance. But he was much too young to be of any use to me, and I''d given up the office politics long ago. My bones grated as I pushed off my throne. A short audience, and I would''ve enjoyed a longer seat, but with the child incapable of conversation I found myself skipping the formalities. The sooner the child was dead, the faster I could go back to enjoying my twilight centuries. Maybe a decade in the swamps would do me good.


    As I made my way down the steps, the child turned and crawled away. I froze. On the child''s back was a note, written on thick parchment with crimson ink. I''d recognize that handwriting anywhere, even without the skull signet sealed in violet wax. Knees creaking, I hurried down the steps and snatched the paper off the child''s back, snapping the purple seal in the process.


    "My dearest Charax," the note read, "I trust you''ve been savoring your isolation. Toying with the other gods just hasn''t been the same since you left."


    Of course not. You always had a bone to pick with me and invented one when you did not.


    "The decades have been kind to me, my dear, and my followers have flourished with the recent bountiful crops. War is a wonderful field to harvest, and my silos are full to bursting."


    I''ll bet they are. And I bet your blood-drunkeness had nothing to do with this missive.


    "As a token of our former friendship,"


    Ha.


    "please accept this human child. I found him orphaned on the battlefield, and I couldn''t bring myself to put him down. I hear ''orphaned by war'' is an excellent origin story for villains these days. You always did have a flair for training the best."


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Uh oh.


    "All my love. I look forward to seeing what you do with this one in the next three decades. Yours forever, Malia."


    That gods-damned woman. It''d not even been a millennium yet and she was already meddling. She''d promised me at least that much time to myself.


    I glared over the note at the child, who was happily crawling across dirt-stained bricks. The thing didn''t even have the presence of mind to be terrified by the dark, damp moss clinging to the temple pillars or the nauseating aura of death permeating the heavy, stagnant air. I crumpled the note and threw it in a patch of sitting water on the temple floor.


    Fool woman. I wasn''t going to be raising her next war lieutenant. I''d done quite enough of that over the centuries, and I was retired, gods damn it.


    "What are you..." I nearly tripped over my robes in my haste to catch the child before it pitched face first into a brazier. The hanging fire pit, suspended to a tripod of iron bars by thick chains, was unlit, its ashes aeons-cold, but the rim had a nasty edge and who knew what had once burned in its flame.


    The child looked back at me, comfortable in my arms, and clapped. Stupid imp had the most self-satisfied smile on its face. I put him down with a grunt, grumbling to myself about my aging bones.


    Unfazed by his near brush with death, the child immediately beelined for the next hanging brazier. He got as far as pushing against the metal pan and nearly bashing his brains out before I caught the backswing. Hands on my knees, I fought to catch my breathe and shot the infant my most withering glare. In my heyday, I''d burned prime warriors to piles of ash, but I was severely out of practice as the child merely sat and clapped, that stupid grin on its face. Its. I would not see the child as more than a thing. Damned fool war goddess would not...


    I sighed deeply as the child made for the third brazier. This time I let him get all the way over, dig his hands around in the ash, maybe sample a bit and see if it killed him. Alas, he only smeared it across his face, streaking dark stains on his skin. As he laughed and clapped, he choked on the cloud of dust he kicked up.


    Just my luck it wasn''t enough to kill him, for he sneezed and went right back to work, arms, head, and shoulders disappearing into the bowl.


    "That''s enough," I said, stalking over to yank the child out of the ashes. He spluttered happy slobber and flung ash in my face, giggling like a devil as I coughed and fanned the cloud away. As I carried him back to my throne by his arm, I griped to myself. A deity of my age should be beyond such complaining, but I was old, on my own, and entitled to a bit of aged crotchety attitude every now and then.


    The child did have an eye for trouble though. And a keen propensity for getting into trouble. If I could properly cultivate that instinct, I could...


    No, no, no. I''d laid down those reins long ago. I was retired. I was...


    Giving in.


    "I don''t know what I''m going to feed you," I told the child. "And I can''t really tell you why I''m going to do this. It''s not because of her, oh no." I scowled at the note, and then nearly dropped the child.


    Not only had the parchment failed to properly disintegrate in the water, it had uncrumpled itself to reveal another note on the back, one I was certain hadn''t been there before. I set the child down and retrieved the letter, shaking droplets off the paper.


    "I knew you''d come around. Since I also know you haven''t given your surrounding grounds a proper scouting in decades, I''ve compiled a list of game you can sustainably farm for the child until he''s of age to reintegrate into society. Graves and kisses, Malia."


    "I haven''t come around to anything," I told the note. It didn''t say anything back.


    "I could still kill you," I said to the child.


    He licked his hands and dribbled ashy spit down his chin. Sighing, I made my way back to my throne and settled in. I guess I was going to have a proper audience today.


    "So, child. What shall I call you?"

 Chapter 2: "The...Child?"

    The sun was setting, the tree trunks casting long shadows as twilight dawned. I stood at the edge of the forest, waiting for Hasda to return with his evening meal. He''d grown, since that day many years ago when Malia had left him on my doorstep. Or was it decades now? I could never keep track. But I''d stuck to my guns with his training. Absolutely no warfare or nefarious villainy. I''d set Hasda on the straight and narrow, and by my old bones I was going to keep it that way.


    Croaking crows took to the sky in a flurry of wings and discarded feathers. Hasda emerged from the forest, a handful of hares strung over his shoulder. He''d taken to trapping them, too...efficient to hunt them down properly with a bow like I''d taught him. Lazy, I called it, but then again it kept him fed without my having to do the hunting myself, so I let it slide.


    "How many today, Hasda?" I called.


    The youth grinned, his dark beard thick on his face. Wait, thick? Wasn''t that just stubble?


    "Five." He held the string up proudly, letting the hares dangle between us. Ducking back under the string, he straightened and flashed me a smile.


    Oh, not again.


    "Charax, today you promised to teach me the sword."


    "I did no such thing. After all, I am a god of peace, these days."


    "Mmm." He pushed past me, headed for the temple. "Yet you were once the god of death."


    "And that makes you think I would know the art of the sword?" I turned and followed him, my maroon robes dragging in the dirt. I frowned and pushed my shoulders back. I didn''t think I''d been sagging that much lately, but if this kept up I''d have to teach him how to take in a hem or, worse, call in outside assistance. I shuddered. A man could do with learning the needle, and one was never too young to learn.


    "Yes, you do," Hasda said, interrupting my thoughts. He glanced back over his burly shoulder. When did he get so bulky? "You told me so yourself."


    "I did?"


    "You did."


    "When?"


    "Last week, when we were discussing world history and its significance to a group of eligible bachelors living a hermit''s life."


    Ah. So that''s what this was about.


    "Child, the day will come when you have earned the luxuries of life. Women are fine creatures, worthy pleasures to be enjoyed and to give oneself to before the grave claims you, but you''ve yet to demonstrate you have a stable enough head on your shoulders to court or lavish appropriate affection upon such majestic beings."


    "Mmm, they''re better than cattle?"


    He had quite the tongue on him, and he''d bent that analogy a thousand different angles, making me regret ever trying to teach him about intimate human relationships on my own. Explaining the cycle of life, and why the forest animals would yowl in heat, had led to my fumbling the concepts of livestock and reproduction together, and he''d held that like high ground ever since.


    "They''re better than cattle, they''re better than animals, and they''re certainly better than trophies."


    "Ooh, a new word. I was afraid you''d go this year without divulging one."


    My steps slowed, and I drilled holes into his back. "What vocabulary is this? Where did you even hear such a word? Certainly not from me."


    He froze, shoulders skyrocketing as if he''d stepped in something unpleasant. "Shit."


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "Hasda." I gave him my best battlefield commander voice. I''d filed the rust off that one and employed it quite a handful of times in his early years. It''d never kept him out of the braziers, but it had stayed his hand at some of the more poisonous forest plants.


    When he turned around, he had that same abashed look on his face that he''d had the first time I caught him masturbating. "Uh, the mockingbirds migrated recently. I think they passed through the southern village."


    "Not only is it the wrong season," I said, knuckles creaking as I folded my hands together, "but they don''t possess nearly the mimicry skills you credit them."


    "She said it was worth a shot."


    If I''d still had eyebrows, they would''ve lifted off my face. As it was, my expression must''ve spooked him, because he glanced away immediately. "She?"


    "I think the heat''s been getting to me," he said, his favorite excuse and a poor attempt at a subject change. Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, "Let''s get these rabbits skinned and dinner cooking. I remember you saying you wanted another rabbit''s foot? For your fetish collection?" Without waiting for an answer, he spun and strode purposefully towards the temple.


    "Hasda."


    I hadn''t moved, and my tone made him freeze.


    "Who is the woman?"


    "Would you believe I swore a blood oath not to reveal it?"


    "GODS DAMN IT!"


    He jumped a good foot off the ground. When he landed, he crouched and ventured, "What?"


    Even if he''d managed to sneak across the forest and set up a liaison with some peasant girl, which was practically impossible since the journey took over a week and we''d never been apart for more than three days, no one, not even the highest noble or most secretive priestess, would merit telling a god, retired or not, that their relationship merited a blood oath. And only one goddess would have the gall to make such a joke with me.


    "How long have you been speaking to Malia?"


    He choked and went beet red in the face. When he finally stopped gagging, he said, "I beg your pardon?"


    "Quit stalling. You''ve had your head in the clouds for weeks¡ª"


    "Months, actually." His grin reflected the full manifestation of that impish smirk of his youth. "Well over a year. She was beginning to think you wouldn''t notice."


    I was going to stab her. I was, quite literally, going to march across the whole of Piovar and thrust her through with a good solid iron. Maybe sprinkle in a little celestial steel so it had some bite to it.


    "And what, exactly, has she been showing you?"


    "Nothing of the, er, ''carnal matters.''" His ears went red, and I could feel the heat from here. "She said to tell you that."


    "Indeed. And what celestial matters did she discuss with you? I''m sure it had nothing to do with fate, or your future among her ranks?"


    By the way he wouldn''t meet my eyes, I knew she had. I sighed. "You are still a child, Hasda, and you''ve no place in war."


    "Right, because I''m to be your peaceful priest." He clenched his fists, and his voice was hard.


    I frowned. This wasn''t like him at all. "Yes, exactly."


    "Do you know," he glanced up sharply, "how old I am, exactly?"


    "Um, er, well," I stammered. My mind raced, trying to count the years. "Perhaps a couple decades now?"


    "A couple?" He huffed a laugh. "I''m thirty-two. I know you immortals have precious little concept of mortality, but I''m already a third through my life, maybe more even, given plagues or famine or war."


    "It''s not a plague year," I muttered. "There''s another four decades or so before the next one''s due."


    "That''s besides the point." He threw the string of rabbits on the ground. "I am a man, fully grown, and getting on in years. I''ve put up with your coddling and senility out of respect for the kindness you showed me, for the years you''ve invested in my life, in raising me as your own. You''ve always been kind to me, for the most part, but can you really say that this life of isolation is good for me? It may suit you, but it certainly doesn''t suit me."


    I stood silent for a moment, soaking it in. "Helped you prepare that all, did she?"


    "She gave me a few pointers," he said, nodding. He thrust out his chin. "But the thoughts are my own."


    "Indeed." I rubbed my palms together, suddenly cold. "And what are you going to do about it?"


    He blinked. Evidently my acquiescing, or at least considering his request, hadn''t been in their battle plans. "I, er, well."


    I laughed, a dry chuckle. "You puff yourself up about your years, yet you''re still as innocent as a fawn."


    "I resent that remark."


    "Be that as it may," I waved a hand, "you know as much about the world at large as you do of the ''carnal matters.''" I laughed when his ears went red again. Then I sighed, gesturing at the rabbits. "Your dinner will soil, if you don''t tend to it soon. But when you''ve finished eating, I expect to hear your thoughts on your future. Well-articulated thoughts, not these raging, passionate tantrums. You''re a man. Conduct yourself as one."


    He bowed and collected the rabbits, then scuttled into the temple. If he''d had a tail, he would''ve been tripping over it, tucked between his legs. The cold I''d felt earlier became chills that settled in my elbows. I had a feeling I knew what he was working towards, and I was afraid to hear it. And unlike him, I didn''t have the menial task of consuming food to distract me while I waited. After a moment I followed him into the temple and settled onto my throne, to await the conclusion of his meal. It seemed I was going to have another significant audience again.

 Chapter 3: "The Audience"

    It took him forever to eat. And considering that he dragged his feet long enough that even I noticed it, he must¡¯ve really not wanted to have this conversation. He emerged from the subterranean kitchen when the moon had already been up for several hours, his face hidden behind his hair, his eyes tracing the well-worn cracks of the floor.


    ¡°So, Malia, eh?¡± I pushed him over the conversational cliff. He¡¯d kick at the lichen on the brick for a good hour more if I didn¡¯t kickstart this myself. Not that it mattered to me how quickly this got on, but he seemed to have reached the age where time mattered to him. Somehow without my noticing.


    ¡°Yes.¡± He rubbed at the strap across his chest. I squinted. His woodsman bag?


    ¡°Late hunting with the witch of the night?¡±


    I didn¡¯t need to see his ears go red to feel the warmth. ¡°No,¡± he muttered, his fingers double-timing across the leather. Still not meeting my eyes, he shifted from one foot to the other. And back again. The whole time, his fingernails scratched an erratic rhythm on the strap.


    My bones grated on the hard seat of the throne. Such creature comforts tended not to matter when all that remained of one¡¯s body was the skeletal frame, but for once I wished I¡¯d thought to pad it, if only to keep the noise down. My robes muffled the grating my shifting weight created, but not enough. Not nearly enough.


    I tried again. ¡°What did she promise you?¡±


    ¡°To see the world, as a man should,¡± he said. He added scuffing sandal sounds to the sibilance of the nervous noises. Finally he met my eyes. ¡°If you would have me abstain from war, then why would you teach me to hunt? I could forage and survive, if peace truly mattered.¡±


    ¡°Again with her borrowed words,¡± I sighed, sinking my chin into my hands. The move made my elbow pop in a way that was nearly painful, and made Hasda jump. ¡°Apologies. It seems my old age is finally catching up with me.¡±


    He laughed. ¡°It¡¯s been catching up with you as long as I can remember, old man.¡±


    ¡°That it is.¡± I forced a chuckle. It felt hollow and made my mouth taste of a crypt, so I didn¡¯t try it again. ¡°So, will you take her up on her offer?¡±


    Hasda straightened his shoulders. ¡°I will.¡±


    ¡°And do you think she¡¯ll keep her promise?¡±


    This gave him pause. ¡°I¡­¡±


    ¡°You seem to forget, Hasda, that I¡¯ve known her far longer than you.¡± I rattled my ribcage with another sigh. ¡°Before I gave my seat up, before she was the goddess of war, even.¡±


    ¡°Before you went into hiding?¡±


    That was low, and we both knew it. But he carried the barb for her.


    I cracked my neck and rose from my seat. ¡°I want you to remember this night, Hasda. When you lay in your tent, wherever your war camp may be, I want you to think back on this and remember the peace you threw away. Weigh it against the lives you¡¯ll spend for the life you want. And see if, in the balance, the trade was worth it.¡± I turned my back and examined the carving on the temple wall behind the throne. Not that I hadn¡¯t seen the winged gorgon every day that I¡¯d sat the throne, but to give my eyes something to see other than Hasda¡¯s face. He was too young, too inexperienced even with Malia¡¯s council, to understand the severity of the choice he was making tonight. But he would learn, in time.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°You know, she didn¡¯t give just me an offer.¡± I heard leather sliding against bare skin, the sound of clasps being undone. His sandals slapped the stones as he ascended the steps to my throne. Went silent, stood behind me, waiting.


    The hem of my robes rustled against the stone floor, whispering of premonitions I didn¡¯t want to heed. I shoved the half-formed thoughts from my mind and focused on the scroll in Hasda¡¯s outstretched hand. ¡°What is this?¡± I didn¡¯t ask from whom. The purple seal said enough.


    An uncertain smile wrestled with his lips. ¡°She wants you to come with. Not to send me alone, but to share this journey together. All of us.¡± His eyes shone in the moonlight, and gods damned the child, but he was happy. Thrilled, even. The call of the unknown, the wild, untamed world, with a god at each shoulder. Who was he to know how foolish that stance could be?


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°No?¡± His smile lost its strength, a frown pinning it.


    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head and pushed the scroll away, creaking into my throne like the tired old god I was. ¡°Those days are long past me, Hasda. She didn¡¯t tell you, did she, how she got her seat?¡±


    He shook his head but held the scroll out, a little too stiffly. ¡°She said you¡¯d be stubborn, but you¡¯d read this in the end. Like you always do.¡±


    ¡°She outmaneuvered me, child.¡± I shook my head and laughed. ¡°Those hunting skills?¡± I pointed past him, towards the forest. ¡°I was the god of war. I, the great Charax. And Malia, with her silver tongue and her blue blood, convinced me that, with my superior skills in delivering death to the mortals, why, wouldn¡¯t I be the best as the god of death! And in my youthful stupidity, and not a small dose of infatuation, I listened to her. Played like a damned fiddle and enjoyed every dance!¡± I sighed and took the scroll. ¡°Steel your heart, boy, like it¡¯s your first kill again. These are not the words you want to hear, but you need to hear them. I will not come with you. Not for a lack of love, as you should damned well know by now, but from an abundance of it.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°Listen, boy!¡± I snapped. Malia¡¯s offer had me rattled, and he looked like an oversized version of the orphan she¡¯d left on my doorstep, all those years ago. Bones groaning, I forced myself to relax into my throne, my shoulders against the backrest. ¡°Should this journey turn out to be...less than you¡¯d dreamed it would be, I will be here, waiting, to welcome you home again. Further,¡± I held up a finger, because he had that interrupting look on his face, ¡°if you would make your way in the world, it would do your confidence good not to have your father watching over your shoulder every step of the way. I may not agree with the decisions you are going to make, but you should be free to make them without second-guessing yourself and watching over your shoulder for my disapproving glance. Am I clear?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± He swallowed, his face stiff.


    ¡°Good. Are you still going to go with her?¡±


    Hasda nodded, his fingers playing at that strap again.


    ¡°When will you leave?¡±


    He looked away. ¡°Tomorrow. At first light.¡±


    So soon? But of course he would. And Malia expected me to come with him. Blasted woman.


    ¡°I see.¡± I slid from one side of my throne to the other, bones creaking like the worst, unoiled hinge. ¡°You should rest, then. I expect you have a long journey ahead of you.¡±


    He nodded and bowed, stiffly at the waist, something he hadn¡¯t done since his youth. His teens? Where had the years gone?


    I flipped the scroll around in my hands, over and over, and watched him head to his sleeping chambers. I would watch the stars, when I heard his telltale snoring. I needed the time to think.


    The seal snagged on my finger and made me drop the scroll. I watched it roll down the steps with a frown. She would not bait me into another one of her schemes, oh no. It had been too many centuries, and I had grown smarter. Hasda¡¯s fake snores ripped through the night, as he tried to lie to his brain that he truly had fallen asleep that quickly and no, his nerves weren¡¯t tighter than a bowstring.


    That¡¯s right. No more falling for her schemes. Not a single one.


    I sighed and forced myself up to totter after the fallen scroll.


    Gods damn it.

 Chapter 4: "The Journey"

    Morning came, and with it two kinds of chill. The first was normal, that dewy crispness every new day brings. But the second was of loss. My companion, the friendship he brought, and the future priesthood he would leave behind. It didn¡¯t bother me he had grown up and wanted to find his way in the world. Oh no, that was not the trouble.


    It was that blasted woman and her meddling. I pulled my robes tight against me, feeling the weight of the unread scroll in my pocket. I gritted my teeth. She could take Hasda, but she would not have me. With Hasda gone and walking the path of mortality, I would be free to return to my retirement. Peace at last.


    His sandals scuffed the steps as he emerged from the cellar just before the break of dawn. Arms folded, I watched him as he shrugged on his sack, his bow and a handful of arrows nestled in the quiver. He smiled, the morning light making his face a second sunrise. I tried not to frown at the thought. Sentimentality had never been my forte.


    ¡°So,¡± I said, breaking the stillness of the morn. ¡°Where are we meeting her?¡±


    His eyes lit up. ¡°We?¡±


    Whoops. I sighed, my shoulders sagging. ¡°Yes, ¡®we.¡¯ I¡¯d not leave you to navigate Nebesa on your own. Especially not,¡± I frowned deeply, ¡°with Malia as your patron. But I am only dropping you off. We¡¯ll say our goodbyes in the Halls, once you¡¯ve met up with her, and then I¡¯ll return home. Now where shall we go?¡±


    The light in his eyes dimmed a bit, but he bolstered himself and flashed a smile. ¡°Malia said you¡¯d know the way.¡±


    ¡°Did she now?¡± I chuckled as I descended the stairs of the throne pedestal, my robes swishing off each one. I really would have to get the hem taken in. Maybe I could snatch a tailor in Nebesa¡­


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    I smiled and patted him on the shoulder as I pushed him, gently, towards the temple doors. ¡°How did she expect you to come if I didn¡¯t go with you?¡±


    ¡°She said you would, though.¡± His brow knit in confusion and he stumbled forward to match my stride.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± I laughed and shook my head. ¡°She plays her games well, Hasda. You should always remember to look for snares, even in the most unlikely spots.¡±


    ¡°While I thank you for the advice, how does that¡ª?¡±


    ¡°She would have left you here, if I did not take you.¡± I fixed his eyes with my own. My joints creaked, partly age, partly anger. ¡°There was no plan for her to claim you without me, because she never plans to fail and she would always find another. You are mortal, and therefore expendable.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not how she¡¯s treated me thus far.¡± His face was a mask of confusion my words couldn¡¯t get through. And of course they wouldn¡¯t. He was an honest child, and had no reason to expect guile from a god. Why would he? The one who¡¯d raised him had always had his best interest at heart.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t, because it¡¯s never been about you, Hasda.¡± We descended the temple steps, he with vigor and certainty, and I hobbling like a drunken sailor. The sun had yet to reach high enough to burn away the morning dew. ¡°When we arrive, she will sing your praises and arm you with weapons and armor that are absolutely divine. Your clothes will feel like woven leaves, and your bow like a discarded stick. Once you¡¯re sufficiently flattered and disoriented, she will flaunt her position over me and highlight all that I have lost. It¡¯s been too long for me to say whether she¡¯ll send you away or gloat in your presence, but I rather think she¡¯ll keep you there as a reminder, to me, of whose champion you¡¯re becoming.¡±


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    He frowned and went a little stiff in the shoulders. ¡°That seems petty and out of her character. She¡¯s been every bit a goddess thus far.¡±


    ¡°Ah, and there lies your fatal flaws.¡± I wagged a finger at him. We¡¯d crossed the field and were nearly at the trees. Funny how quickly a familiar path passes beneath one¡¯s feet. ¡°You confuse divinity for nobility and character for charade.¡±


    ¡°None of the other gods talk about her like this.¡± He ducked beneath the branch at the entrance to the forest path, brushing his hand against the bark. He¡¯d always loved that tree and refused to let me trim it even as he grew and had to stoop to pass it. And he was horrible at these word games.


    ¡°And what other gods have you met?¡± I asked, phasing through the branch. Though passing through physical objects was child¡¯s play, opening the portal would take more effort and attention. Already I could feel the old magic tugging at my feet as I sought the strings to the portal latch. It was distracting, but not enough to let that little detail of his fraternizing with the pantheon slip by.


    ¡°Uh, I¡¯ve only met Malia and the pale, skinny one that follows her around.¡± His ears went a little pink. ¡°So I guess ¡®god¡¯ is more accurate.¡±


    Pale, skinny¡­


    ¡°Does this skinny one happen to have a name?¡±


    He shrugged and glanced back over his shoulder. Eager to be off, that one was, because he was five strides ahead of me when he usually stayed by my side. His arrows rattled with each step. ¡°He never said.¡±


    Strange.


    I leaned against my walking staff, waving away his concern as he stopped. Grunting, I pushed myself up, my joints squealing in protest, and pondered when I¡¯d grabbed the staff. I hadn¡¯t left the temple with it.


    I shook my head. Time was slipping again, far too often now. I needed to deposit Hasda safely with Malia, or at least as safe as he could be in her presence, before my mind gave completely. It might take another decade or two for my consciousness to give completely, but I didn¡¯t want to risk an episode with him still present. Had he been my priest, perhaps he could have helped ease the passage, and certainly drawn it out past his own mortality, but such was my lot in life and his.


    Gripping my staff, I strode down the path with as much confidence and poise as I could muster, gesturing him on as I passed him. He trotted up behind me and, blessedly, decided to hang back this time. My feet thumped against the dirt, kicking up leaves as I went. Hasda kept his footsteps light, his weight on his toes.


    ¡°What signs of office did he bear?¡± I asked.


    Hasda gave me a bewildered look. ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡±


    ¡°Did he carry any objects, artifacts, magical glowing signs that said ¡®famine, disease, hunger,¡¯ things like that?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Hasda thought for a moment. ¡°He wore a black toga and had a scythe at his waist. Is that what you meant?¡±


    I stumbled as my feet froze up. In a heartbeat Hasda was kneeling before me, helping me get back up. Stupid forest magic.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I grumbled. ¡°You just surprised me, is all. That sounds like my old apprentice.¡± I brushed the dirt off as Hasda stared at me.


    ¡°You had an apprentice?¡± He looked like I¡¯d told him foxes grew on trees. ¡°Like me?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head and made my way down the path. The forest magic was building, and the portal was almost ready. ¡°Not like you. He was divine before I met him. So if you have delusions about becoming a god yourself, kindly discard them.¡±


    Maybe that was a little too harsh. He looked deflated, had that little kicked puppy face he made sometimes when his feelings were hurt but he didn¡¯t want to tell me. I sighed and patted him on the shoulder. Static jumped from my bones to his skin, shocking us both. We jumped.


    I shook my hand as he gathered his feet back under him. ¡°Consider this my arming you with knowledge. I can¡¯t teach you everything you need to know about dealing with gods, besides me, in a day, and perhaps I should have planned for that, but here we are.¡±


    I raised my hands, creating a circle of orange magic that hung in the air. Vicious fire sparked around the ring, spitting more sparks than a spot welder. The circle grew ovaloid and expanded until it became a portal large enough for both of us to walk through. As I looked back at him, I found his face far less impressed than I¡¯d hoped. I frowned. ¡°See magic like this every day, do you?¡±


    His face puckered, and I realized he was biting back a laugh.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s just that Malia¡¯s is bigger.¡±


    Blasted woman.


    ¡°Oh ho ho, funny guy now, are you?¡± I grunted and tugged on his arm. ¡°Come on, your lady is waiting.¡±


    And with that, we stepped through the portal.

 Chapter 5: "The Gorgon"

    The portal opened onto a marbled plaza, the stone mellowed to a warm golden hue from age. Thick columns ringed the plaza, stretching high into the heavens. In the center burbled a fountain, its pipes hidden within a bronze statue of a trio of dryad sisters. The youngest lay on the feet of the others, staring up with a longing expression. The middle dryad, hugging the oldest, reached for her sister¡¯s raised hand, a wordless plea frozen on her face. And the oldest, eternally watching the water spill from the palm of her hand, had a look of pure ecstasy carved onto her features.


    The Grove of Life, symbolizing the passing of time and the current that bound us all. Malia and I had first met under that fountain, and we¡¯d spent many a decade planning our war efforts seated on its bowl. Where we had...had a thing, so to speak, and the Fates had taunted us. The damned harpies were flaunting their station again, because our reunion occurred in the shadow of the fountain as well.


    She stood with her back to us, her dark wings a canopy shading her serpent hair from the crimson sun of Nebesa. Across her back was a quiver of divine arrows, the War Bow unstrung and seated next to the shafts. Absent from her waist were the other divine weapons, the signs of her station: the girdle, the dagger, and the sword. Her hands were empty of the spear as well. Maybe the old gorgon was being modest, and maybe she had some other scheme nested among the snakes writhing on her head. I¡¯d bet my temple on the latter.


    At her side stood a thin, pale man dressed all in black. Ropes, died even darker than his robes, served as a belt, the scythe of the God of Death wedged almost flippantly above his hip. Though Malia was by no means tall, my old apprentice still barely reached her shoulder, his lack of height accentuated by his constant half-bow. This position let him see under her wings, and he smiled and whispered something to Malia when he saw us.


    I grumbled and approached the pair, and then paused when I saw Hasda gawking. His mouth mimicked the portal in miniature, his head tilted so far back I had to grab his shoulder to keep him from toppling. He snapped his jaw shut with a clack and gave me a sheepish grin. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not really that impressive,¡± I said, half-dragging him towards the waiting gods. ¡°They¡¯re almost identical to the pillars of my temple.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but they¡¯re so tall!¡±


    ¡°They can be shrunk.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± His eyes popped.


    I sighed as I hitched my robes out from under my feet. No need to send myself sprawling. ¡°That was a joke, Hasda.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Wings fluttering, Malia spun on her tail and smiled as we approached. Her light green skin, which matched her scales, showed no signs of wrinkles, although the pale yellow of her underbelly had encroached on her throat. The snake heads, mostly dark green adders with a few black coral snakes, flicked their tongues at me as I smiled.


    ¡°Charax,¡± Malia said. Her silky voice sent shivers down my spine, the bones jittering like an old dog asked to perform its favorite trick. Her golden eyes were as pleasant as her smile, and I¡¯ll be damned but my treacherous heart was glad to see her again.


    I nodded. ¡°Malia.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you again,¡± she said.


    ¡°And you, for as short as my visit will be.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not staying?¡± Her eyebrows rose, and a shade of a frown tugged at the corners of her lips.


    I shook my head. ¡°No. I¡¯m merely here to return your gift, given as a child but a child no more, with my full blessing.¡± Folding my staff in the crook of my arm, I shrugged. ¡°Plus, I¡¯ve no Seat among these Halls. And I¡¯ve a mind to get back to my retirement, which you so rudely interrupted twenty¡ª¡±


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°Thirty,¡± she interjected.


    ¡°¡ªthirty-two years ago.¡± I glanced at Hasda, who was ogling Thane¡¯s scythe despite having supposedly seen it before, and tried to keep the sadness from my voice. ¡°Raising him was good for me, and I thank you for it, but it¡¯s time for me to return to my peace.¡±


    ¡°If you must.¡± She shook her head, and her serpents swiveled, keeping their heads locked in place and their gazes firmly on me. ¡°At least have a drink before you go?¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at her. ¡°No ambrosia. I haven¡¯t touched it since I left and I¡¯ve no plans to start today.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Her eyes sparkled. ¡°Thane! Be a dear and fetch us some refreshments, if you would.¡±


    ¡°At once, milady.¡± He bowed low, his reedy voice at odds with his grim attire.


    She fluttered her hand at him. ¡°And remember, no ambrosia for your once-master.¡±


    He dipped his head, his chin nearly sinking into his chest, and scurried around the fountain, disappearing in a puff of black smoke.


    When he vanished, it seemed to snap Hasda out of his haze. He shook himself and had his wits all collected, and then he laid eyes on Malia. His jaw dropped, and my hands itched to poke his eyes to keep them from falling out. ¡°Wow.¡±


    She chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s good to be appreciated,¡± she said, ribbing me.


    I grumbled something about tomfool-cats in heat and she laughed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be jealous, you old salt. Just because the lad has eyes.¡±


    ¡°His eyes work perfectly fine,¡± I said firmly, my hands clenching on my staff. ¡°If you¡¯d be so kind as to stop overloading his mortal senses with your divine aura, I¡¯m sure he¡¯d be up to having a reasoned conversation with us.¡±


    ¡°I forgot how much fun you are at parties,¡± she pouted. The air shimmered as she withdrew her power, masking it for Hasda¡¯s sake.


    The boy¡ªman¡ªblinked, and blinked some more. ¡°Wow,¡± he repeated, finally finding his voice. ¡°Are we really in Nebesa?¡±


    ¡°Did you miss the portal I rent in the very air to get here, or did you hit your head on the mantle on the way in?¡± I said.


    He flushed and dropped his eyes. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°So you mean to tell me that when you¡¯ve been sneaking out to meet with Malia, it¡¯s been in my own backyard?¡± I was more mad that he¡¯d taken up lying and deceit so quickly, rather than his secret meetings with Malia (although I was plenty grumpy about that, too), so I switched tack to make sure the appropriate message was driven home. ¡°How long have you lived with me, and you still haven¡¯t learned not to lie to gods?¡±


    ¡°Be pleasant, Charax,¡± Malia said, sliding between us. A wingtip grazed my shoulder, and I had to fight to keep from breaking into shivers. Damn woman and her damned touch. She gave me a thin smile. ¡°He is mortal, after all, and he looks slightly faint from his first visit among our Halls. If only he had something to drink.¡± She glared at the fountain.


    A puff of black smoke, and Thane was back among us, a silver platter with four jeweled goblets perched on his hand. ¡°Your refreshments, as requested.¡±


    ¡°Excellent.¡± She tugged Hasda forward, drowning him in a smile. ¡°Please, help yourself.¡±


    ¡°No ambrosia.¡± My sharp voice froze his outstretched hand. ¡°He¡¯s still very thoroughly mortal. Raised by me or not, he¡¯d need at least a quest and maybe a campaign under his belt before he could stomach it.¡±


    ¡°We would never.¡± Thane said, a false smile on his face. Faster than Hasda could see, he flicked the goblet the lad was reaching for, transforming the motion into an offering and placing it against Hasda¡¯s fingers. ¡°For you, fair mortal. A harmless gift from the gods.¡±


    ¡°Which gods?¡± I asked as Hasda sipped from the goblet.


    That was enough for a frown to slip through Thane¡¯s amiable fa?ade. ¡°His hosts and benefactors, myself and Malia.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°And is mine a gift?¡±


    ¡°It could be,¡± Malia said, a concoction of emotions lacing her voice.


    Resting my staff on the ground, I stood tall and shook my head. ¡°Mine will be given as a measure of your hospitality to a peer, and not as a boon.¡±


    ¡°So be it.¡± Thane plastered his smile back in place and lifted a bronze goblet. I watched his hand carefully as he proffered the drink for any divine sleight of hand he might pull. But he merely handed me the drink and moved on to giving Malia hers, his fingers caressing the stem as he did so.


    I sniffed my drink suspiciously all the same. It smelled of grapes and pomegranate, with a hint of apple underneath. No telltale signs of ambrosia, and nothing citrus to mask its smell. If slipping me ambrosia wasn¡¯t how Malia meant to lure me back, what was? I pondered the question as I tasted the juice. Hasda had already finished his, drops of cranberry juice staining the corners of his mouth, and held his goblet out for more.


    ¡°So,¡± Malia said, toying with her own drink, ¡°I hope you¡¯re not planning on wearing that to the feast tonight.¡±


    Ah, so that was her game.

 Chapter 6: "The Blessing"

    Malia had a smug smile on her face. Wrapping a wing in front of her, she picked at the feathers and tried to look coy. ¡°The feast in your honor tonight?¡± She glanced up from her preening. ¡°You did read the letter, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Oh, baby, do I have news for you. I gave her my biggest, toothy grin. ¡°Actually, I didn¡¯t.¡±


    Her fingers froze, a feather split by its barbs between her thumb and index finger. ¡°You...didn¡¯t? Then how did you know to come to Maas Pirene?¡±


    I grunted. ¡°Its proximity to my temple and your flair for symbolism.¡±


    ¡°I also have a flair for theatrics,¡± she pouted, sliding her fingers to repair the feather. Shaking her wings, she folded them behind her and slid towards me, lower lip protruding. ¡°How¡¯d you know I wouldn¡¯t be at the main gates to wow our new young fellow?¡±


    Damn it if she wasn¡¯t a cute pouter, but that hadn¡¯t worked on me for a good century or so. I chuckled and shifted my staff forward, so she couldn¡¯t slither up and entangle me in her arms. We might¡¯ve been apart for several centuries, but I¡¯d lose my head if I let her get her lips on me. ¡°Getting predictable in your old age?¡±


    ¡°You impertinent old skeleton!¡± Her eyes went wide and she covered her mouth in shock. ¡°You¡¯re one to talk. You were practically a bag of bones by the time I was born.¡±


    ¡°I was a century and a half older than you, and lest you start scaring the youngling,¡± I wagged a finger at her, ¡°we were both well into our first millenniums before we met. So I don¡¯t want to hear any of this age nonsense.¡±


    ¡°You never could take a joke.¡± She crossed her arms and looked hurt. Gods damn it, she was older than this. Still pouting, she gave me a sideways eye. ¡°Are you sure you didn¡¯t read my letter?¡±


    I pulled out the sealed scroll and waved it. ¡°Yep.¡±


    She huffed. ¡°Fine. Here, Thane.¡± Pinching the air, she pulled a celestial drachma from the ether. The thick gold coin glinted in the red sunlight, a prancing unicorn depicted on its face and a shrieking harpy on the reverse. Scowling, Malia flicked it to the death god, who fumbled the catch.


    ¡°A pleasure betting, as always,¡± he called over his shoulder as he chased the coin across the paving stones.


    I raised a brow at her.


    She crossed her arms in a huff, her snakes hissing. ¡°Tomfool insisted you wouldn¡¯t read the letter.¡± Sighing, she looked at me with genuine sadness. ¡°Are you sure you won¡¯t stay? I was looking forward to sharing a meal again.¡±


    I shook my head and took a step back. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of feasts in my honor and dealing with divine politics. It¡¯s time I went home.¡±


    ¡°Your home was here,¡± she whispered, so soft I almost didn¡¯t catch it. Then her eyes lit up, and she gave me an angry smile. ¡°It wasn¡¯t going to be all about you, you old idiot.¡± She frowned. ¡°While your return would¡¯ve complimented the main event nicely, the feast is primarily to welcome Hasda as my new champion.¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    I blinked. ¡°Your new what?¡±


    ¡°You heard me.¡± She smiled, and I didn¡¯t like that look in her eyes.


    ¡°I thought you just wanted another lieutenant. Maybe a general, if he did well.¡±


    She laughed, her hands holding her sides. Smile wide, she wiped at a non-existent tear. ¡°A child raised by you, simply a ¡®lieutenant?¡¯ Oh, Charax, how I¡¯ve missed your humor.¡±


    Oh yes, it was quite simple, wasn¡¯t it? Once mighty death god, once god of war, living a life of peace and raising a child to be kind and gentle to all. How could I ever mistake your intentions with him? But I didn¡¯t say any of that. I just grumbled something under my breath and looked cranky and all the other things she expected me to be. Even if she¡¯d lost a smaller battle, she still held the advantage in the war.


    Thane finally caught his coin and, pocketing it, returned with a broad smile on his face. He faltered when he saw our expressions, but the fake grin came back almost instantly. Putting an arm over Hasda¡¯s shoulders, he dragged the lad right next to us. ¡°Say, aren¡¯t you two leaving out the man of the hour?¡±


    Malia gave Hasda an apologetic smile, and the boy ate it up. ¡°Forgive us, Hasda.¡± She put a hand on my chest before I could move away. ¡°It¡¯s just been so many years since your father and I last met, we¡¯ve had so much catching up to do.¡±


    ¡°Not much to speak of, save how I explicitly avoided teaching Hasda the arts of warfare, something you set out to do the moment he could walk,¡± I said, sounding sulky even to myself.


    ¡°Father, please,¡± he said. The way he held himself, the tone of his voice, I knew he was trying to be mature, but it just made me sad to see him so suddenly grown up, out from under me.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind him,¡± Malia said, patting my robes. ¡°He¡¯s always been an old crab, and we love him for it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m happy for you, Hasda,¡± I said, managing to keep the bitterness out of my voice. ¡°It¡¯s just hard to see you go. Something I hadn¡¯t thought I¡¯d be saying since I began my retirement.¡±


    ¡°You could stay.¡± Again with that stupid ray of hope in his eyes.


    I shook my head. ¡°My time has long since passed, boy. Plus, it will do you good to stretch your wings,¡± I glanced at Malia, ¡°metaphorically speaking, without my holding you back.¡±


    ¡°But you wouldn¡¯t.¡± His face was insistent. ¡°If you won¡¯t train me, you could always advise me. I would value your judgment.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at Malia. The gorgon wouldn¡¯t meet my gaze, keeping her eyes on Hasda, but she was fighting with a smile that kept trying to escape. Troublesome woman. I battled with my own pangs of emotion, the heart strings she¡¯d orchestrated those words to pluck. Damn it all if I wasn¡¯t going to be roped into this by the end of it.


    Hasda looked at me, expectant.


    I sighed. ¡°Insufferable woman. I¡¯m sorry, Hasda, but no. But I will give you this, before I go.¡±


    Beside me, Malia¡¯s brows furrowed, and her free hand drifted to my arm. ¡°What are you¡­?¡±


    Hasda braced himself, putting on a strong face. Good lad.


    I rested my staff in the crook of my arm, annoyed at the uneven way it lay against Malia¡¯s fingers, but it couldn¡¯t be helped now. Raising my hand, I traced his brow and then his nose with the tip of my bony finger. ¡°May you succeed upon each path you tread, your days many and your sorrows few. May love and laughter light your way, wherever you may roam. May this, my blessing, give you strength, and remember always that no matter the plow to which you lay your hand, you will always be my son. Go in peace, my anointed one.¡±


    Malia¡¯s fingers tightened on my arm and, behind Hasda, Thane¡¯s jaw dropped. Not understanding what had just happened, Hasda smiled grimly and nodded his head. ¡°Thank you, father.¡±


    I tugged my arm free and grunted.


    ¡°Charax, I¡­¡± For once, I¡¯d left Malia speechless. She shook her head and tried again. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean for you to¡­¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s done is done.¡± I waved my hand, and the orange portal sputtered to life. ¡°Enjoy your new champion. Goodbye, Hasda.¡±


    And with that, I left through the portal. I didn¡¯t look back, because I didn¡¯t want to see the look on Hasda¡¯s face as I left. He was grown, and maybe he could take it, but I didn¡¯t know if I could. Back in the safety of the forest, the portal hissed shut behind me, and I shuffled off towards my temple. My hem snagged on a fallen branch, and I cursed. I knew I¡¯d forgotten something.


    Oh well. I could always find a tailor in the village.

 Chapter 7: "The Tailor"

    I spent most of the day trundling through the forest, creaking like a leaky old boat out to sea. The wildlife kept their distance, which was all well and good because I wanted some space. My gloomy mood clashed with the cheery sunlight, the blasted rays brightening everything and giving the say a syrupy-sweet, happy aura. Maybe I could get old Zephyrus to send some rain, but then, that would require returning to Nebesa, and I wouldn¡¯t do that, especially not for something as insignificant as a mood setter. But then I realized I could just swing by his temple while I was in the village and send a message through his priests. He may not believe the request was from me, but in all my years I¡¯d never heard of a mortal pretending to be a crotchety old god so what the heck.


    The journey was longer, slower, and lonelier than usual, and I felt every joint in my body before the first day had even finished. The few times I¡¯d had to visit before, Hasda had been there, eager to see the settlement and villagers and the outside world in general. He¡¯d been bright-eyed and full of wonder every time, even well after he had his first bit of stubble.


    I frowned. Strange. I remembered him discovering that initial smattering of facial hair but not the time between then and now, when he¡¯d grown a full beard. Not a week ago and those two events were blurred together in my mind. The increase in my memory¡¯s definition was...unsettling, but I chalked it up to an increase of vigor in my spirits from the recent trip to Nebesa. Hopefully the heavenly realm¡¯s influence was temporary, and I could go back to fading away in peace.


    Four days after I¡¯d left Hasda behind with Malia, I finally reached the little farming village that stood as the closest bit of civilization to my decaying temple. It wasn¡¯t much to speak of, just a gathering of wooden huts, a few of them log cabins recessed in the hills, with rough wooden fencing surrounding the pastures and fields. Pigs and cows made up the majority of the livestock, though they¡¯d started raising horses in the past few generations, and the equine population had grown quite a bit since my last visit. Not enough to replace beef as the staple meat, but a strong contender.


    I startled a farmer who was out weeding his wheatfield. An accident, of course. I just meant to ask him if the tailor was in, but it¡¯d been long enough since my last visit that the villagers must have forgotten of my existence. Maybe with Hasda gone, I would pay them more frequent visits, but I¡¯d have a think about it after I got my robes taken in.


    The farmer muttered something that sounded positive and gestured vaguely towards the village before ducking down again, grumbling as he snatched at the weeds that had invaded his field. Though I wasn¡¯t sure he was paying attention, I thanked him anyways and lumbered into what passed for the village square. The houses here had been arranged in a loose circle, with symbols painted on the ¡°shops¡± to indicate what was where, as if the couple dozen or so inhabitants didn¡¯t know everyone and their mother already. They did get the occasional trader, though, and they wanted to appear fancy, but they also seemed to have forgotten that the village temple looked like little more than a repurposed outhouse. Their symbols were streaks of black paint and, when that was gone, smears of charcoal and ash, too. It was a homey atmosphere and they tried their best.


    Not that I was complaining. It was certainly better maintained than my temple, which was only as clean as it was because I was...had been raising Hasda. I sighed. The old wreck would probably be proper ruins in a decade or so, now that the lad was gone. It hadn¡¯t bothered me before, but I guess I¡¯d grown accustomed to the slightly-above-collapsing state it¡¯d been in for the last three decades now. Oh well. Life goes on, as they say.


    I found the house with the diagonal slash of black paint that somehow represented a needle and thread and knocked on the door. The curtains were down and the inside of the cabin was dark, but the morning hadn¡¯t quite given way to the afternoon yet, so the tailor might still be in bed. A sleepy voice inside confirmed this, shouting for patience through its owner¡¯s grogginess. After lots of shuffling and racketing about, the wiry tailor opened the door.


    He¡¯d put on a bathrobe and quite a few wrinkles, not that he¡¯d had a choice about the latter. If my memory wasn¡¯t completely gone, he should be nearing his fifth decade soon, if he hadn¡¯t reached it already, and it showed in the lines on his face and his receding hairline. He blinked up at me, jerked awake when he realized who I was, yelped an invective, and slammed the door shut in the time it took me to open my mouth.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I frowned, mouth hanging open stupidly, my raised finger curling in on itself. Well that was unusual. Surely I didn¡¯t look that bad?


    The door swung open again, but this time the man had fully dressed and slapped his spectacles on his face. His white shirt and tan pants were baggy, a faded measuring tape draped around his neck like a scarf. His collar held an array of needles, shoved in like rounds of ammunition. He bowed low, his long hair falling into his face in thin strands. Someone was compensating for the hair loss, all right.


    ¡°Apologies, Lord Charax,¡± the tailor muttered. ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting you so soon.¡±


    ¡°So soon?¡± I echoed, stepping into the dim interior.


    ¡°Ah, yes.¡± He laughed nervously and pulled the door shut behind me before scooting over to the table to light some candles. ¡°I expected to be a very old man before you came needing my services, what with you making all the lad¡¯s clothes yourself and you being a god and all.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I follow.¡±


    His fingers danced together and he wouldn¡¯t meet my eyes. ¡°The lad is gone, yes?¡±


    How did he know that? ¡°Yes.¡±


    The tailor nodded thoughtfully. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to make your sorrow worse, this is merely to prepare myself for the work, but how did he go?¡±


    ¡°Through a portal.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± He blinked. ¡°Well, that would make measuring the lad difficult, then. Would you rather an effigy, or just a shroud?¡±


    Oh. So that¡¯s what he meant. I laughed. ¡°No, no, it¡¯s not for Hasda.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not?¡± Confusion washed over his face.


    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head, smiling. ¡°The lad is fine. Well, as fine as he can be, being tugged about by the whims of the gods. No, I need your help.¡±


    The man straightened with a relieved sigh. ¡°I¡¯m glad. Mourning gods can be touchy customers.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°But I am grieving. Very grumpy. Grrr.¡± I wiggled my fingers at him. Of course, my emotions were rather turbulent at the moment, but I hadn¡¯t admitted that to myself yet, so I certainly wasn¡¯t going to say that to him.


    Fingers fluttering, he chuckled nervously. ¡°As you say, Lord Charax. So what work could my humble personage offer to you today?¡±


    ¡°I need my robes taken in,¡± I said, lifting my sleeves. ¡°My hem has been dragging for...I¡¯m not sure, I¡¯ve lost track of how long it¡¯s been going on now. Far longer than is good for the material, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± He knelt down and examined the damaged edge. Fingering the material, he said, ¡°Would you like me to sew a buffer over it, or just raise the hem?¡±


    ¡°Raising the hem should suffice.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± He straightened and pulled the measuring tape off his neck. ¡°If you would be so kind, Lord Charax.¡±


    Being measured felt silly. My arms and legs were lifted every which way, the tape whizzing between the tailor¡¯s fingers as he took my marks. His tongue peeked between his lips as he concentrated. The robes fluttered as he pushed them this way and that, the folds giving and bending and reforming. Frowning, he let go of my robes and went back at my limbs, stringing me out like a scarecrow. The lines on his forehead deepened and he measured my legs a third time.


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± I asked.


    More nervous chuckles. ¡°Well, you see, Lord Charax¡­¡± He held the tape up and pinched it. ¡°This is how long your robes are. And this,¡± he slid his fingers not even a centimeter down the tape, ¡°is where your legs end. Now, I could take the edge up that little bit if you¡¯d like, but I¡¯d have to make the robe too short in order to get any kind of hem in at all.¡±


    What? I grabbed my robes, lifted them, and stared as they fell to roughly where they belonged. A few experimental steps showed that they weren¡¯t, in fact, dragging on the ground anymore either.


    I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened. I¡¯ve been tripping over them for months.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Lord Charax,¡± the tailor said, wringing his hands. ¡°I wish I could be of more help.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve done me a great service.¡± I patted the man awkwardly on the shoulder.


    ¡°No judgmental fire and brimstone?¡±


    ¡°None.¡± I frowned. ¡°I¡¯ve been a god of peace for a long time now, er,...¡±


    ¡°Juniper,¡± the man said.


    I nodded. ¡°Yes, well, Juniper, I¡¯ll leave you to your work now.¡±


    As I opened the door, he said, ¡°If you do need funeral garb for the lad, please, ah, give me some advance warning?¡±


    ¡°Will do.¡± I shut the door behind me and glared at the burning sun. It wasn¡¯t the star¡¯s fault that my robes had magically shrunk on the journey over here, but they had all the same and I didn¡¯t want to take out my annoyance on the tailor. Grumbling, I pulled up my robes out of habit and then released them. The stupid things weren¡¯t going to be tripping me up anymore, if they didn¡¯t suddenly grow on the way back.


    I sighed. It was going to be a long walk.

 Chapter 8: "The Leak"

    The return journey didn¡¯t just feel faster, it was faster. I took a day and a half to reach the forest instead of the two I¡¯d needed to get to the village, and another full day to traverse the woods. My robes didn¡¯t drag a single time throughout the journey, having decided they liked being the proper length too much to misbehave. By the end of the third day, I was back in my temple and wondering how on earth I¡¯d managed such a pace by myself.


    It couldn¡¯t be because Hasda was gone. I¡¯d always slowed him down, not vice versa, even counting the times we¡¯d paused for forest lessons or leisure conversations. And it definitely wasn¡¯t because I was getting spry in my old age. If anything I should¡¯ve been pushing close to five days to get back home, such was my deteriorated state.


    I frowned. I didn¡¯t feel decrepit¡ªif anything I felt more alive than I¡¯d been when Malia had left Hasda on my doorstep. And my sensitivity to time had returned somewhere along the way as well. I should be standing here, half drooling, wondering where the time had gone for my trip to the village instead of remembering the individual days and the birds I¡¯d seen along the way. Robins, chickadees, and a lone woodpecker. When was the last time I recalled the species I¡¯d encountered, let alone that there¡¯d been birds?


    Grumbling, I stomped across the temple to my throne and accidentally splashed in a puddle on the floor. ¡°Hasda, would you¡­¡± I trailed off, my voice echoing off the pillars and braziers, mocking me. I sighed. His absence would take some getting used to. My staff clacked against the stones as I made my way up the steps to plop myself on my throne. My hands were hovering over the armrests, ready to guide me into my seat, when my eyes caught the carving on the wall behind.


    I¡¯d seen that image dozens of times. It was a winged gorgon. Or it had been. But now it looked like a pegasus, rearing wildly, its eyes flashing with demonic fire. Mouth wide, it bared sharp fangs, frozen in an enraged nicker. Shocked, I stared at the image. And stared. And stared. The clattering of my staff on the ground informed my dull mind that I must have let go of the wood, but I couldn¡¯t break off my gaze. I was entranced by this mystifying event.


    Centuries. I¡¯d been in this temple for centuries, and every day I¡¯d seen this relief, it¡¯d looked like a winged gorgon. Horses and snake people didn¡¯t even remotely resemble the anatomy of one another. How could I have spent hundreds of years seeing this piece and never corrected myself?


    My eyes traced the feathers in the wings, carved to great detail. Huh. With the way the wings had been depicted, outstretched yet slightly curving inwards, it almost reminded me of...Malia. And in a blink, the creature looked like a depiction of a winged gorgon again. Shaking, I closed my eyes and opened them again. The winged gorgon was still there. I went around my throne, closed my eyes, inhaled, and set my hands on the wall.


    My bony fingers traced the horse¡¯s head, the tongues of fire leaping from its eyes. I could feel the points of its fangs, dozens of them, not the vampiric canines of a gorgon. Its mane waved on its neck, its thick hooves reared to strike. The wings were the same as they¡¯d always been. I opened my eyes, and saw the hellish pegasus.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Madness. I was going insane. I shook my head, blinked a dozen times, and stared at the relief. But the pegasus remained. Unsettled, I reclaimed my staff and collapsed onto my throne. What else wasn¡¯t I seeing? What images had my longing heart overlaid on this temple¡¯s interior? I stared at the pillars, but they were still the cracked, moss-speckled marble they¡¯d always been. The floor was still a dank, uneven mess. And my throne, bless it, was still the same old stone seat it¡¯d been since the old god had built it.


    I sighed. I was doing too much of that lately, but I couldn¡¯t help myself. Life was full of sighs and surprises, and I¡¯d had too much of both in too short a time span. What I needed was a nice, long, relaxing vacation. I grunted. Retirement was supposed to be relaxing, and yet I¡¯d spent...a sixth of it raising Hasda. Was it a sixth? I was never good with math, and my slipping sense of time made it impossible for me to know the exact numbers.


    Seated on my throne, I relished in the fact that my detachment from time would make the years fly by. It¡¯d been a long time coming, but I was ready to fade away. Enough of wars, enough of death, let the world have its peace. Of course, those offices never stayed empty long, and knowing Malia it¡¯d be a good millennium before she got bored with the war machine, but at least it wouldn¡¯t be death by my hand. Closing my eyes, I rested my head on the back of my throne and waited.


    For what, I wasn¡¯t sure, but the steady plinking of water from the roof of my temple to a puddle below quickly became irritating. Grumbling, I rose and wiped up the pool of water with some grungy rags Hasda had left behind. Nuisance erased, I returned to my throne.


    It hadn¡¯t been fifteen minutes before the puddle was back, grown to a depth that would really amplify the plunks. Snarling, I trudged back down the steps, snatched the rag off the floor, and swiped at the stupid puddle. Several times, when I leaned too far forward, the leaking spot baptized me with droplets that splashed in the most infuriating way against the back of my skull. Not thinking, I wiped the back of my head with the same rag I¡¯d used to clean the floor and succeeded in smearing dirt, grime, and something sticky that felt like pond sludge all over my head. Great. Now I would have to give myself a proper washing as well.


    To add insult to injury, it only took five minutes for the puddle to return. I¡¯d barely returned from the basement with a suitably dust-free vase to take down to the river when that stupid plink, plunk, pallink chirruped from the floor. Sighing, I set the vase on the floor and went back down to search for a bucket or something to put under the leak. Ten minutes later, and none of the vessels I¡¯d tried provided any relief from the annoyance. The only bucket that hadn¡¯t been claimed by wood rot thumped like a muted drum, and the amphoras merely amplified the sound. I gave up and simply tossed the rag in the puddle.


    Surprisingly, the cloth dulled the drops that it managed to catch. The puddle would soon grow too deep for the rag to sit on the floor and make the cloth float around, but for now, it was something. I collected the vase I was going to wash with and headed towards the forest. I was halfway down the hill when I realized that I¡¯d temporally tracked the entire day. Not a single moment had slipped my attention.


    My sense of time was coming back.

 Chapter 9: "The Look"

    Anyone watching me pour water over my head could tell I was angry. More liquid splashed onto my robes than on my skull, and despite how soaked I was I still felt that sticky sludge sensation on the back of my head. In my frustration, I¡¯d dropped the pitcher into the river, chipping the rim and getting thick, clinging mud inside the vessel. Maybe that was why the filthy feeling was getting worse, not better. Joints popping, I knelt down to wash the mud out, my robes floating across the surface of the swift-flowing river.


    Pinching my fingers, I worked my whole hand down in the pitcher and scraped at the intruding mud. It resisted my efforts, deforming into annoying troughs as my fingers raked the soggy clay. The air crackled around me as my irritation increased. Stupid sludge, stupid river, stupid¡ª


    A sharp crack startled me, and I dropped the pitcher into the river again. As it fell, upside-down, into the water, it made a hollow popping sound as air became trapped inside. Bubbles filtered up like mocking laughter as the vessel rocked down and embedded its lip in the dirt. Great, more mud to clean out.


    Here I was, fighting with an uncooperative inanimate object, and I was so mad I was pulling an aura. I hadn¡¯t been able to do that since before I¡¯d abdicated my spot in Nebesa. Not ¡°didn¡¯t choose to,¡± couldn¡¯t. My gradual decline into oblivion meant I¡¯d been slowly shedding my divine powers, and now they were coming back. Not a little bit, a lot a bit. That blasted woman must have somehow slipped ambrosia into my drink despite my attentiveness. Or maybe, in my weakened state, I was less alert than I¡¯d thought. But she must have done something to me, because just breathing the air of Nebesa shouldn¡¯t have been enough to invigorate me like this.


    I frowned. It couldn¡¯t have been the blessing I¡¯d given Hasda, either. That would just give him a portion of my former power, my spirit resting upon him, safeguarding him in battle and all that. That passing of the torch should have left me weaker, not stronger. And with my ward gone and no one to tend to but myself, my consciousness should have been on the fast path to peaceful delirium. I was tired, gods damn it, and I wanted to rest. But here I was, kneeling in the river with crockery that I couldn¡¯t keep ahold of despite my newfound vitality.


    My grumblings were interrupted by a sudden stillness to the forest that sent shivers down my spine. Even the river lost some of its enthusiasm, its foamy bubbling reduced to murmuring burbles. The sky became muted, the sunshine losing its edge, and the clouds rolled away, parted by unseen hands. Thunder rumbled, lightning crashed, and the oversized face of Malia appeared in the heavens.


    This was not gorgon Malia, oh no, this was divine diva, astral projection Malia. Her face glowed with warm light that couldn¡¯t settle on peach or salmon as its defining shade, and stars like drops of honey freckled her face. Instead of her snake hair, glittering nebulae flowed off her head, creating a miasma of stardust. Though her eyes were closed, she smiled directly at me.


    And then she opened her eyes.


    Legend describes the gorgon¡¯s gaze as a paralyzing affair. While partially true, the legends seem to have forgotten that heroes had a reason for fighting gorgons in areas with low vegetation that were unrelated to keeping an open battlefield. Mortal gorgons tended to fry bushes, trees, and shrubs with their toxic vision, creating noxious fumes that were both poisonous and difficult to navigate for those without infrared vision. Add to that the fact that plant life made it easier for a gorgon to sneak an unobstructed peek at her adversaries, and warriors did their darndest to fight gorgons in mountains, out in deserts, or on plains where the grass and wild oats could be burned away to flush the gorgon out.


    Malia, being the immortal variety, had a veritable death ray behind her eyeballs. Being divine myself, it wouldn¡¯t affect me much, but I couldn¡¯t say the same for my forest. As she scythed her eyes along the woods, she left a swath of blasted trees and petrified wildlife that hadn¡¯t gotten out of the way fast enough. Smoke belched through the leafy canopy, and several brush fires burst alight as a side effect of her intense gaze. She cut a straight path of destruction and then stifled her gaze, smiling down at me.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°That¡¯s what the desert is for, you blasted woman!¡± I shook my fist at her.


    She winked and blew me a kiss, and then pulled the clouds shut behind her as she turned away. The sun brightened, the chatter of the birds returned, and the river surged, nearly knocking me off my feet. My pitcher washed away, bouncing out of reach off the stones in the river. Shaking off my robes, I threw them on the bank with a growl and plunged beneath the water. I hadn¡¯t wanted to take a bath, but I wasn¡¯t going all the way back to the temple for another jug.


    Of course, I¡¯d have to go back to Nebesa now and lodge a complaint with Seppo, the head of our pantheon. I was entitled to my retirement and the lands around my temple, and while Malia¡¯s intrusion with Hasda had been forgivable, this certainly was not. That damage would take years to recover, and with my rediscovered sense of time, I would feel those years fully.


    And that destruction was intentional. Despite what the legends said, gorgons could control their gaze. Just as one can, metaphorically, glare daggers doesn¡¯t mean one spends one¡¯s whole life doing so. The same for birds and flying, or cats and napping, or dogs eating their own shit, although I wasn¡¯t too sure about that last one. But gorgons could turn their withering gaze on and off at will, and Malia had the best control of any gorgon I¡¯d ever met. Whatever her deal was, I¡¯d just ignore her, file my grievance with Seppo, and come back. That was it.


    Though I was understandably annoyed and distracted, I made the mistake of tugging my robes on while I was still wet. They got stuck hitched halfway up my back, and my knuckles kept snagging at the elbows of my sleeves. With the excess cloth piled around my shoulders in a way that at least let me see out the head hole, I grumbled my way back to my temple and set about properly toweling down.


    As I peeled my robes off, Malia¡¯s last letter fell out of a pocket and bounced off the ground. Glaring at it, I yanked my wet robes the rest of the way off, balled them up, and threw them at my throne. Cloth fluttering, they unwound and blanketed the steps like a beggar¡¯s red carpet. I sighed and picked up the scroll. Might as well read what she had to say, so I knew what to expect.


    ¡°My dear Charax,


    ¡°How the years have flown. It was only yesterday that I left little Hasda on your doorstep.¡±


    You did far more than that.


    ¡°I can¡¯t express how thrilled I am at how he¡¯s turned out. You¡¯ve always done such excellent work, but you¡¯ve overdone yourself this time. You should be proud. Hasda will be a fine hero.¡±


    I grunted. More like your pet dark lord, but that¡¯s semantics.


    She skipped a few lines in the letter, several blurry splotches where she¡¯d erased what she¡¯d been going to say. I squinted at the inkstains, but couldn¡¯t make out the words. Second-guessing wasn¡¯t in her nature.


    ¡°This may come as a shock to you¡ª¡±


    I sincerely doubt anything could, after today.


    ¡°¡ªbut I¡¯ve already discussed this with Seppo, and he says it¡¯s possible, if you¡¯re willing. Tonight, at the feast, we¡¯ll honor Hasda together as his co-patrons.¡±


    ¡­


    What? How would that work? I¡¯m not¡ª


    ¡°I can hear your protests from here. ¡®How? I¡¯m not an invested deity anymore, I gave up my office, I¡¯m a peaceful, priestless god,¡¯ etc., etc.¡±


    Blasted woman.


    ¡°So I¡¯m willing to co-seat the office of the God of War.¡±


    Excusemewhat?


    ¡°I only need my War Bow. You¡¯ve always been the more hands-on of us, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve missed your Spear and Sword. The Shield is probably somewhere in storage, I¡¯m sure Thane remembers where I put it. But I would be honored if you¡¯d join me in your former place, as my partner in war. All my love, your little Necro Snake.¡±


    Well I¡¯ll be. Of all the stunts she could¡¯ve pulled, I would¡¯ve wagered the whole of my heavenly wealth that Peklo would freeze over before Malia would share. And she wasn¡¯t pulling any punches either, with that closing. I shook my head. Honestly, if I¡¯d read this before I dropped off Hasda, I might¡¯ve seriously considered her offer. No wonder she wanted me to read it so badly.


    Apparently it was something I badly wanted to hear. I blinked and found myself sprinting down the blighted path Malia had left behind. The tendrils of the ancient forest magic pawed at my feet, weak from her scouring. Though I pulled at the portal, it resisted my efforts, forming lethargically in the air. Drawing harder on the bonds brought images of magical constipation to mind and I shook my head. Not the mental image I wanted. After sputtering for a good two minutes, the orange portal finally solidified and opened to admit me to Nebesa.


    The plaza beyond was void of beings for all of two seconds. A cloud of purple smoke puffed, and Malia appeared, a broad grin on her face. ¡°Why, Charax, how kind of you to join us.¡±


    ¡°Save it.¡± I folded my arms with a grunt. ¡°I¡¯m here to talk to Seppo.¡±

 Chapter 10: "The King"

    Malia batted her eyes as she angled towards me. ¡°See Seppo? What for?¡±


    ¡°You know very well what for,¡± I grumbled, twisting to keep out of her reach. ¡°You ruined my forest, and I could barely get the portal open with how badly you damaged its life force.¡±


    ¡°Well, Hasda asked to see my powers in action, and who am I to deny such a request?¡± She smiled in her approximation of charming, but it set off every predator alarm in my being. ¡°I am, after all, a generous goddess.¡±


    I bopped her on the nose with her loosely rolled-up letter. She blinked and looked stunned. ¡°You don¡¯t have a generous bone in your body, is what I would have said, if I hadn¡¯t read this.¡± I wagged the scroll at her and frowned. ¡°And don¡¯t think I¡¯m so old that I can¡¯t see what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have it any other way.¡± She cracked a smile and leaned back, flaring her wings for balance as she rent a purple portal in the air. Particles of energy fizzed like sparklers as the portal flared to life. As we went through, she managed to snake her arm around mine and, with a self-satisfied smile, tugged me into the halls of Maas Bierg, aka Nebesa proper.


    The celestial hall of the gods was a varied affair. The floating plazas, the Maas, of the heavenly realm could be tailored to each god¡¯s specific needs, plus the more general purpose ones that served as meeting grounds, feasting halls, and lounging parks. Maas Bierg, being the home of the head god, had grown into a veritable metropolis over the years. Pillared, white-marbled temples served as divine motels, ringed by houses with bright red roofs and sweeping courtyards, for the mortal and semi-divine servants of the visiting gods.


    Lush trees, some fruit-bearing and others merely for shade or decoration, dotted the landscape. Roads paved with smooth stones connected all the buildings in a winding network that wound its way up the gently sloping hill to terminate at the steps of the ziggurat that crowned the hill. Despite the clearly non-Grecian influence on the architecture, Seppo had yet to formally acknowledge or establish ties with its progeniting pantheon. At least, not since the last time I¡¯d been here, but based on the features of all the faces I saw as we made our way up the road, it didn¡¯t look like much had changed. Only Carthians, gods and mortals of my former pantheon, roamed the streets of Maas Bierg.


    Despite her shorter stature, Malia bore herself as if I were the trophy partner. Beaming smiles at all we passed, she murmured polite greetings and waved to those out of talking distance. When I tried tugging on her arm to get her attention, she whacked me on the back of the head with her wing and muttered an oops behind her hand, trying not especially hard to keep from grinning about what was clearly not an accident.


    ¡°Will you stop parading about,¡± I hissed at her. ¡°We¡¯re going to talk to Seppo about your little infraction, not your victory speech.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that,¡± she whispered back, eyes on a minor deity, a minotaur, who was fawning at her in overt efforts to curry favor and potentially advance his station. She basked in his adoration for a moment before turning her gaze to the next insignificant godling hoping to latch onto a full-fledged deity.


    ¡°Despite what you might think,¡± I said, ¡°I¡¯m only here to file my complaint and leave. Your letter was very touching, and quite frankly I¡¯m shocked at your offer, but it¡¯s not going to work, and why can¡¯t you just leave an old man in peace?¡±


    ¡°Oh, come now.¡± She batted my arm with her free hand and flashed her teeth at me. ¡°You can¡¯t honestly tell me that peace suits you. Retirement has only made you more crotchety because it¡¯s forced you to realize that you really don¡¯t want to go out any other way than in a blaze of glory, but you¡¯re a stubborn, pig-headed old fool who won¡¯t admit that inaction is making you cranky and miserable. You¡¯re going to be relaxed, gods damn it, even if you have to bully yourself into enjoying it.¡±


    I gritted my teeth, said nothing, and silently cursed myself anew for letting that meddlesome woman so far into my head all those centuries ago. This was, what, only our second conversation in decades? And yet I could already feel myself being wound around her finger again.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°Don¡¯t sulk,¡± she said, ribbing me.


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I grumbled.


    ¡°You are.¡± Her eyes sparkled. ¡°You¡¯ve even got that pouty tone in your voice.¡±


    I clamped my lips shut and refused to rise to her jibes for the rest of the trip. She quickly grew bored and went back to bathing in the adulations of the minor gods. It wasn¡¯t long before we reached the base of the ziggurat staircase, which was guarded by a pair of Spartans wearing bronze armor and helmets, the red plumes of their helmets the same bright shade as the chevrons on their shields. They uncrossed their spears to admit us, bowing at the waist as Malia passed. I shivered as I felt their eyes on my back, my hand itching for a sword. But they meant us no ill will, and soon the feeling passed.


    The staircase took us a long time to ascend, and by the top even Malia was panting and cursing the climb. When I teased her about her age catching up with her, she merely glared at me and flapped her wings once.


    ¡°Next time I¡¯m flying and waiting for you at the top.¡±


    I grinned. ¡°And risk me slipping away from you?¡±


    ¡°Ooh, think you¡¯re so clever, do you?¡± She folded her arms as we approached the temple atop the ziggurat. ¡°If you¡¯ve recovered your foresight into my machinations, how are you regaining your lost powers so quickly?¡±


    I scowled. ¡°You somehow slipped me ambrosia, even though I was looking for it.¡±


    The glint in her eyes was both annoying and disturbing. ¡°Ah, you really think me that simple?¡±


    ¡°Then what did you do?¡±


    She gave me a devilish smile. ¡°That¡¯s my little secret. Ah, it looks like we¡¯re expected!¡±


    Before I could protest, she dashed ahead to the Spartans waiting to escort us into Seppo¡¯s throne room. Bouncing next to them like an eager puppy, she folded her wings against her back and impatiently urged me on. The guards bore her antics more patiently than I. Expressions impassive behind their faceplates, they stood at relaxed attention and swiveled in place as we passed them and entered the temple.


    Although the outside was little more than a glorified stone box, the inside opened up into expansive heavens. A bright blue sky arched overhead, and underneath the stone floor transformed into an endless cloud that stretched the horizons. The larger interior was Seppo¡¯s life work, as he continued to pack as much extra dimension into the space as he could. Why, who knew, but the cloud had a few extra acres since the last time I¡¯d walked it.


    Across the cotton field of water vapor stood a crowd of mythical beasts, avians and chimeras and sphinxes. In their midst stood a muscular man with skin so bronze it was almost indistinguishable from the exoskeleton he¡¯d molded to his frame. When he noticed us, he muttered something to the surrounding beasts and waved them away. Bleating their veneration, they disappeared in puffs of clouds, leaving Seppo alone.


    His audience dismissed, he clanked over to us, the pistons of his exoskeleton sliding and hissing. Long ago, Seppo experienced an unfortunate accident at the hands of his mother that had left at least one of his limbs mangled. With his artistry in metalworking, he¡¯d devised his supporting frame to return almost all of his lost mobility, and the bands of metal had helped his injuries heal so that only he knew whether it¡¯d been his arms or legs that had once been warped.


    Malia tucked her wings down and nestled against me, grinning mischievously.


    ¡°What are you¡­?¡± I whispered, but she shushed me.


    Apparently, Seppo¡¯s eyesight had been declining, because it wasn¡¯t until he was a couple dozen paces from us when he pulled up with a curse. Spinning on his heel, he clanked back the way he¡¯d come, shouting angrily. ¡°I already told you, Malia. It works! Stop bothering me. And take your lover¡¯s quarrel somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± I said, not quite comprehending. Seppo had always had trouble with love in the...well, since always. Romance was a touchy subject around him. But I failed to see how that applied to my situation.


    Which I hadn¡¯t even told him about yet.


    I squinted down at Malia, who gave me a triumphant smile. ¡°What did you do?¡±


    She laughed and patted my arm. ¡°He already knows about the forest, dear. I told him I was going to do that.¡±


    ¡°You told him, and he let you?¡± I tried to pull out of her grip, but she wouldn¡¯t let go.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be such a baby. You haven¡¯t even heard the best part yet.¡±


    Seppo¡¯s metallic footsteps echoed across the open space, punctuating her words with grating clanks.


    Shaking my head, I frowned at her. ¡°How could you possibly top that?¡±


    The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I¡¯d messed up. Might as well have signed my surrender in my own blood. She smiled in a way that accentuated her fangs, a look that had always preceded lots of biting and, ahem, ¡°grown immortals¡± time in the past.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you asked,¡± she said, her words sibilant. ¡°I told him it was a gorgon mating ritual.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°You what?¡±

 Chapter 11: "The Appeal"

    Malia laughed, her snake hair hissing giggles. ¡°See? I knew you¡¯d like it.¡±


    ¡°I do not.¡±


    ¡°You do.¡± She poked my side and grinned. ¡°You¡¯re trying to hide it, but I can see how pleased you are. Admit it, you think it¡¯s funny.¡±


    Blasted woman. It was a bit humorous, in a nonsensical way, but Seppo didn¡¯t deserve such teasing. I tried once again to free my arm, but the clinging gorgon wouldn¡¯t relinquish her hold. She gazed up at me with hurt eyes.


    Fine. If you¡¯re going to play hardball¡­


    ¡°Seppo!¡± I called, dragging Malia along behind me. She yelped at the sudden jerk but quickly balanced herself and slithered up beside me. ¡°Wait!¡±


    The god froze, his shoulders skyrocketing. ¡°I already gave you your verdict, now go away.¡±


    ¡°When has that ever worked when Malia¡¯s involved?¡± I asked with a sigh. She chuckled and I shot her a glare. ¡°You haven¡¯t even heard my side of the story yet.¡±


    Slumping, he crossed his arms with a clank and turned to scowl at us. ¡°Well?¡±


    I pulled myself up to my full height. Little tufts of cloud floated over my feet. ¡°I¡¯m entitled to a peaceful retirement, free of meddling, as is my right by both my service to and former station in this pantheon. She,¡± I jabbed a finger at her, ¡°has ruined a significant section of my forest with her powers, which has significantly disrupted said peace.¡±


    Seppo grunted. ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°And?¡± I echoed, bewildered. ¡°That¡¯s my sacred forest, on my temple grounds! As such, it, as well as I, should be free from divine interference for the duration of my retirement.¡±


    Seppo¡¯s scowl deepened. ¡°Yes, for the duration of your retirement. But you have an outstanding offer from a member of our pantheon, an offer which you¡¯ve engaged with. Multiple times now. So I fail to see how you¡¯re still rambling on about being inactive.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I spluttered. ¡°There aren¡¯t any ¡®outstanding offers,¡¯ and in case you didn¡¯t notice I hold no Symbols of Office.¡±


    He raised a brow at me. By the tugging on my arm I could feel Malia silently laughing. I looked down and saw a mischievous glint in her eyes.


    Oh no.


    ¡°Malia¡­¡±


    ¡°Well, it wouldn''t be a surprise if I told you it was there,¡± she said, laughing.


    I folded my arms as best I could, with her clamped on my elbow as she was, and tried to give her my best imposing scowl. ¡°Explain.¡±


    She examined the nails on the hand not fastened to my personage and affected an air of ambivalence. ¡°I sent you a messenger.¡±


    ¡°When?¡± My confusion was growing, but so was the sneaking suspicion that I¡¯d been outmaneuvered.


    Polishing her nails against her scaly chest, she said, ¡°You did get my letter, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°This one?¡± I pulled out her most recent missive. Frowning, I turned to Seppo. ¡°This would constitute an outstanding offer, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    He nodded, clearly unhappy. ¡°Yes. A most unusual one, but I¡¯d already discussed that with Malia before this whole fiasco. And I¡¯m getting rather tired of your vagrant flaunting of your relationship.¡±


    ¡°She won¡¯t let go,¡± I said, half pleading. Malia just laughed and tightened her grip. By now, dislodging her would not only be seriously embarrassing for both of us but might require hurting her, so I resigned myself to the position.


    ¡°Regardless,¡± Seppo said, ¡°your complaints are moot because you¡¯ve been engaging with her offers for years¡­¡± he trailed off, mentally tallying numbers in his head. ¡°Decades now, so no, your argument is invalid.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°Further, she¡¯s already justified herself because, as she put it, she can¡¯t properly demonstrate her abilities without showing the effects of her powers, hence the desert wasn¡¯t an option.¡± He scowled. ¡°And she has as much right to a proper demonstration for her new champion as you had for your retirement, which you¡¯ve given up in all but name.¡±


    ¡°That can¡¯t be right.¡± I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯ve done nothing but settle back into a peaceful life since I left the pantheon.¡±


    ¡°Nothing?¡± Malia gave me a sly look. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯ve done absolutely nothing?¡±


    ¡°Well, nothing except...you little snake.¡± That gods-damned woman was dragging Hasda into this. Of course she was. I scowled, furious with myself. Leave me to not read between the lines of that first letter. She never did anything without a reason, and she¡¯d find a way to twist even a gift given without strings attached to her advantage.


    Seppo nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about this youngling of yours. Malia has kept me well-informed of his progress. Bright lad.¡± He grunted. ¡°But that would make you, at a minimum, his mentor.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯ve returned him to Malia,¡± I said, my voice sounding hollow.


    ¡°And did you also give her the decades you spent raising the boy?¡±


    ¡°No, of course not.¡±


    ¡°Well all right, then.¡± Seppo brushed his hands, considering the matter settled.


    I shook my head. ¡°But what about my forest?¡±


    ¡°That was to get your attention,¡± Malia said. Fluttering her eyes, she gave me a sickly-sweet smile. ¡°It worked, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°I hate you sometimes.¡±


    ¡°I love you, too.¡±


    Seppo made gagging noises and turned away. ¡°If you¡¯re quite done,¡± he said, back to us, ¡°I have important matters demanding my attention.¡±


    ¡°Come along, dear,¡± Malia said, tugging on my arm. ¡°Let¡¯s leave the grumpy old bachelor alone.¡±


    ¡°But my retirement!¡± I called back as Malia pulled me towards the door.


    ¡°No!¡± Seppo shouted back. ¡°You still haven¡¯t responded to Malia¡¯s offer, which you¡¯ve read because the seal is broken, and I¡¯ll not hear you rejecting it out of hand. You must consider it for at least three days, if you¡¯re going to reject such an unheard-of invitation. Now go.¡±


    The blue sky winked out as we exited the temple, replaced by the golden honey afternoon of Nebesa. I slumped in the warm air, my robes dragging against the steps as we made our way down the ziggurat. Malia batted my shoulder.


    ¡°Don¡¯t slouch. You¡¯ll get arthritis when you¡¯re older.¡± She laughed but I just grumbled. Patting my arm, she said, ¡°Why so cranky? This¡¯ll be fun. Even if you decide not to come back to the pantheon, you can always accompany us as Hasda¡¯s mentor.¡± She squeezed my elbow, drawing my gaze. Her eyes were intense. ¡°Come on. You know how much this would mean to him.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°You¡¯ve just got all the angles covered, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°As I always do.¡± She beamed. ¡°Now stop being a grumpy old toad and let¡¯s get you to Maas Telos.¡±


    ¡°The armory? What for?¡±


    Malia rolled her eyes. ¡°To get your celestial weapons, silly.¡±


    ¡°I still haven¡¯t accepted your offer,¡± I grumbled.


    ¡°You could leave at any time, yet you¡¯re still here.¡± She poked my arm with a finger, her snakes tracking my eyes. ¡°If you don¡¯t like it so much, why don¡¯t you just open your fizzy little portal and go home?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯d take that as an invitation,¡± I said, scowling. Pulling back against her hold, I slowed us to a stop on the steps and faced her. ¡°You¡¯re serious about sharing office?¡±


    She glanced away. ¡°Well, if you¡¯d like your old spot better, I¡¯m sure Thane could be persuaded.¡± An uncertain laugh escaped her. ¡°He¡¯s been eyeing the party god spot for a while now. Reaping souls bores him, to be honest.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer my question.¡± I sighed. ¡°All right. Let¡¯s go back to Maas Pirene.¡±


    Her eyes lit up. ¡°Fountain talk?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Fountain talk.¡±


    Beaming, she clapped her hands and bounced on the steps, flaring her wings to keep from pitching forward. With all the energy of a hare who¡¯d forgotten to brew decaf, she drew a large oval in the air. Her portal flared to life, and we stepped through onto the stone plaza to revive our dead tradition of discussing serious matters beside the burbling fountain.

 Chapter 12: "The Temple"

    The talk was extremely informative, although we spent more time catching up on other matters than we did strategic planning. My lips throbbed, and if I hadn¡¯t recovered so much of my strength I would¡¯ve sworn I¡¯d be nursing a pulled back for the next week. As it was, I had a spring in my step as I trotted across my temple for the last time. My cheeks were practically bursting, I was smiling so hard. Not even the stupid roof leak, which had returned in my absence, could dampen my good spirits. This was the final time I would be walking these rotting halls, and it felt good to be moving again.


    Once I¡¯d said my goodbyes to the old dump and finished the invocation for the next retiree, I would rejoin Malia and Hasda in Nebesa to begin preparing for Hasda¡¯s trials. Malia had hinted at some trouble with the Paden pantheon during our talk and she wanted Hasda at the head of her...er, our army. But he had three trials ahead of him, which would be determined by Seppo. The lad wouldn¡¯t be fit to be a heroic leader until he¡¯d accomplished some heroic tasks. Malia had worked out a deal with Seppo to make the trials manageable for a mortal, but her definition of ¡°achievable¡± and the realistic limitations of the non-divine didn¡¯t always align.


    When Seppo released the details of the first trial, I¡¯d scout ahead to ensure that Malia wasn¡¯t secretly sabotaging everything or pushing Hasda further than he was capable. While she was supposedly preparing her champion for the war to come, this was Malia we were talking about. Sometimes she lost the trees in the forest, tying too many threads to something that should have been a simple event. She wouldn¡¯t set Hasda up for failure, but she¡¯d expect him to accomplish more than just the trials while also completing them.


    Shaking my head, I approached my throne. While Malia went ahead to Maas Telos to warn the armory of my arrival, I had weapons of my own to collect from home. Stone grated as I lifted the seat, exposing the helmet, plate armor, and arming sword I¡¯d hidden beneath. None of it was divine, but then, it wasn¡¯t for me. The small voice in the back of my head whispered how I¡¯d always known, deep down, that I¡¯d never really escaped the grip of war and, despite my protests, I had thought that Hasda would one day follow in my footsteps. Granted, he was a few decades behind in his swordplay, but with me as his master, he would quickly catch up.


    The armor was nothing to sing epics about. Simple steel, dull from years of disuse, made up the chest- and shoulderplates, and the helmet was unadorned save for a simple etching around the eyes and faceplate, its plumage long since rotted away. I¡¯d have the armory at Maas Telos replume it, but with Carthian blue instead of Spartan red. Hasda was my warrior too, after all.


    The sword, a practical tool with a basic crossguard and a rounded hilt that resembled an unstamped coin, would need touching up as well, but the smiths enjoyed their work and it would give me a chance to catch up on the new technologies of warfare. Maybe I could put in an order with Phaeus, the divine blacksmith, for a demigod-grade blade. Hasda would need something more durable than mortal steel once he tasted ambrosia. My blessing would strengthen and empower him, but not that much.


    And Phaeus did good work. The best, in fact. I frowned. But maybe Hasda would prefer the bow for its familiarity, or the spear for its reach and versatility. Only time and training would tell, so perhaps I would wait on that order.


    Hasda¡¯s new outfit collected, I slid the seat back down with a grunt and puffed at the carving of the demonic pegasus. Okay, maybe I wasn¡¯t as up to speed as I¡¯d thought. I was capable of far more physical exertion than recent times, but I still had centuries of rust to shake off. Raising Hasda had helped kick-start the process, but I hadn''t really been pushing myself for that. As I heaved off the throne and bent down to bag the armor and sword, I felt the magic of the temple brushing up against me. The energy felt filthy, like I¡¯d stepped on slimy algae coating a river rock, and flowed in distinct tendrils from each pillar of the temple to my shoulders. Leaving my bag behind, I walked to the center of the floor, gathering the fronds of energy in my hands.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    When I reached the midpoint, I sagged beneath a great weight. The silence was cloying, and the temple seemed to sense my lack of divine inertia and push against my efforts. The old place was as lonely as I¡¯d been, and it was reluctant to see me go. I smiled fondly, lines of energy like reins leading to the temple supports.


    ¡°Farewell, old friend. It seems fate, in the form of a conniving winged gorgon, has conspired to keep us apart for now.¡±


    As I spoke, I wove my fingers through the magical threads, finding the pieces of my spirit that had flaked off, teasing them out, collecting them back into my aura. The more of myself I recovered, the taller I stood, the more powerful I felt. I hadn¡¯t realized just how much I¡¯d lost, and how quickly it had gone.


    ¡°While I may leave, another will take my place. How soon, I can¡¯t say, but in the eyes of immortal stone? It will be soon enough.¡±


    The tendons tightened as I progressed, resisting my efforts to reclaim the slivers of my soul. The pediment whined in protest, dust fluttering from the crevices.


    ¡°I know, it won¡¯t be the same without my company, but I¡¯m not the first god to pass beneath your roof and I certainly won¡¯t be the last. Plus, the lad has already gone. You can¡¯t possibly that just me, wasting away on my stupid old seat, would be good enough for you. I¡¯d do nothing more than mope and complain and kick about, waiting to vanish forever. And then what?¡±


    The floor groaned, obviously dissatisfied with my answer. Chains rattled as the braziers swung back and forth in an unseen wind. In my hands, the tendrils tightened to cables, threatening to snap at any moment.


    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll make you a deal.¡± I grunted as the magic tugged at me from a dozen angles. ¡°If no gods seek to retire beneath your mantle by the time the lad¡¯s journey is done, I¡¯ll return and establish this as my primary abode. I¡¯ll be an invested deity again, with Symbols of Office and everything. It might be a bit out of the way for mortals to bring sacrifices, but then I never really cared for those. Charred beef smells a lot worse than you¡¯d think.¡±


    The strands of energy were as taut as harp strings. More dust sifted from the ceiling, and the ground shook for good measure.


    ¡°Do we have a deal?¡±


    All the lines snapped at once. I staggered from the sudden release of tension, nearly pitching onto the floor. The stones of the temple settled, the foundation creaking in a familiar, comforting way. While the temple magic still felt as grimy as ever, it had lost its abrasive edge. Finally appeased, the temple slunk into a contented rest.


    ¡°Good. I¡¯ll be back when the weather turns favorable.¡± Maybe not quite that fast, but I think the inanimate stone got the idea.


    The invocation finished, I gathered my sack and bid the temple goodbye. Outside, the morning wind blew the musky scent of the charred forest across the temple grounds, and wispy clouds blurred the sky. I felt whole again, more energized than I¡¯d been in as long as I could remember, which wasn¡¯t much to speak of given the gaps in my retirement memory. But all those ground-down edges, fully restored, added up, and I carried my weight and complete aura like a real god again.


    Power buzzed at my fingertips. When I lifted my hand to draw the portal, I opened it of my own strength, without needing to augment my abilities with the finicky, now-damaged forest magic. Though the orange light of the portal edge was pale, it glowed in a stable oval and snapped firmly into place. No wavering, no shaking, no threatening to collapse halfway through the journey and leave my legs unattached from my torso. I had to admit, being an active deity again felt amazing, and I had missed it.


    Now it was time to find out how much Nebesa had missed me.

 Chapter 13: "The Dwarf"

    Maas Telos epitomized a dwarf¡¯s dream heaven. Mountains ranged across the horizon, stretching up to the sky to trail their tips through the clouds like fingers in a river. Thick forests carpeted the mountainsides in lush, velvet leaves, and any breeze not permeated by the sappy smell of pine and oak carried the scent of charcoal and mineshafts. The sun glowed the warm amber of sunset, regardless of the hour. Whenever the gods wanted a scented candle smelling of the forest, they sent the candlemakers to Maas Telos to harvest the smells of this world.


    I¡¯d always thought the forge looked like it¡¯d been fashioned from a mountain. Although it had four, smooth sides, its polished granite surface showed no signs of mortar nor marks of brick. The roof was an uneven conic, smoke rising from the flue like a volcano rousing from slumber. Muffled dings found their way out of the depths of the forge, heralding the work occurring far below. The thick oak door, which could substitute for most mortal city gates, yawned open to vent heat.


    Malia and Hasda were waiting by the entrance, standing to the side out of the way of the steam. Hasda wore rich brown robes that, while flowing, weren¡¯t as revealing as the togas most mortals attached to deities chose to wear. For once, Malia had stayed true to her word and had left outfitting him for battle up to my discretion. As for the gorgon herself, she had her Quiver across her back, the Warbow unstrung and secured with the handful of celestial arrows she¡¯d brought with. Not that we expected a fight from Phaeus¡¯ smiths, but what was the point of bringing the Bow and not the arrows? Even I wouldn¡¯t have done that.


    ¡°Did you get everything?¡± Malia asked as I approached. ¡°Said your goodbyes to the old place?¡±


    I nodded.


    She arched a brow at me. ¡°You¡¯re not going to break down in tears on me, are you?¡±


    ¡°You were the one who did that when the goats happened,¡± I said, grinning.


    Hasda looked confused. ¡°What happened with the goats?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask.¡± Malia shot me a withering look before smiling at him. ¡°Your father would do well to remember not to bring that up again. But, come. You¡¯ve waited long enough for your promised arms. And just in time, too,¡± she added, giving me a look. ¡°Seppo has finished preparing the first trial. The announcement ceremony is this evening.¡±


    ¡°I hope you didn¡¯t promise him legs as well.¡± I grunted as I heaved the bag off my shoulder.


    Malia rolled her eyes. ¡°Is the heat drying your humor out as well?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Hasda asked, cutting off my retort.


    I nudged the bag with my foot, making the metal clank around. ¡°Open it and find out.¡±


    His eyes swelled like pomegranates when he saw the weaponry. ¡°Is this for me?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°These grubby old things are why I couldn¡¯t outfit you in something proper the moment you arrived,¡± Malia said, managing to sound both miffed and pleased. ¡°We¡¯ll have the smiths polish everything up after we¡¯ve collected your father¡¯s things.¡±


    Hasda held the chestplate up, his eyes shining. ¡°Did these used to be yours?¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°Personally? No. But I had mortal champions, back when I was active. Seemed a shame to let them go to waste.¡±


    ¡°The part he¡¯s not saying,¡± Malia said, laying a hand on Hasda¡¯s shoulder, ¡°is that he¡¯s really proud of you and too stubborn to admit he was secretly hoping you¡¯d get to wear these one day.¡±


    I grumbled something but didn¡¯t deny it.


    ¡°Thanks, Dad.¡± Hasda¡¯s face shone with pure joy. ¡°It means a lot to me.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡± I shrugged and tried to bulldoze over the awkwardness by ignoring it. Malia came to my rescue.


    ¡°Where is that infernal dwarf?¡± She huffed and folded her arms. ¡°I told him to be ready and waiting before I arrived.¡±


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°Apologies, Vain One.¡± A stumpy, stocky little man with a thick, brown beard and a scorched leather apron thumped his way out of the forge, cradling a pair of creamy-white metal rods in his arms. ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t dare return the Sword and Spear without giving them a once-over before. It would damage my reputation, and he, ah, might damage a fair bit more than that if I gave them back in any state short of pristine.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve always done fine work, Phaeus,¡± I said, accepting the twin rods from the dwarf. As my hands settled around them, their protective wardings fell away, revealing the full form and splendor of the celestial weapons.


    The Spear, fashioned after the hoplite dory, stood nearly twice as tall as I, although I could will it shorter as needed. Phaeus had polished the triangular head to a blinding gleam, and the shaft glinted from a fresh coat of lacquer. As I angled the Spear across my back, it shrank down as its wardings covered it and affixed itself diagonally to my back.


    Although the Sword was no Excalibur, it certainly was majestic. With the length of a greatsword and the weight of an arming sword, thanks to the celestial steel, it had given me great pleasure to scythe through opposing armies. Its size and relative ease of use made it an extremely intimidating weapon to face down, no less so because I wielded it. Unlike the Spear, however, the Sword had a sheath, which masked the magic of the blade shrinking and gave it a resting length similar to a dagger. I affixed the sheath to my belt and settled the Sword on my left.


    I sighed, content. It felt good to have my Weapons on me again. With the Signs of my Office back on my person, Malia and I could publicly acknowledge our co-seating. Most likely we would spring that fact on the rest of the pantheon this evening, after Seppo¡¯s announcement of the trials, since I was sure Malia had kept my return secret from all but Seppo himself.


    While I¡¯d been occupied reacquainting myself with my Weapons, Malia had helped the lad try on the armor. Phaeus stood beside them, providing a scathing commentary of her fumbling efforts and the sorry state of disrepair that had claimed the weaponry. The dwarf was perhaps the only deity in all of Nebesa who could mouth off to Malia and emerge unscathed, mainly because he had a hidey-hole that the gorgon would never dare breach. In a contest between her feathers and the forge¡¯s heat, her wings would always come out on the losing end.


    Finally, Malia had had enough. ¡°Phaeus, kindly shut your mouth and make yourself useful.¡±


    ¡°Or what?¡± he said, giving her a broad, confident grin. Arms folded, he was relaxed, his feet flat on the ground.


    She flashed him a smile that was pure predator. ¡°Or I¡¯ll send Charax after you.¡±


    Scowling, the dwarf squinted an eye at her, then me. His arms slowly unfolded and fell to his sides. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t do that, now, would you?¡± he asked me. ¡°I¡¯ve always been good to you.¡±


    ¡°That you have, Phaeus.¡± I crossed my arms and cracked my neck. ¡°But it has been a few centuries since I¡¯ve had a good run. While you¡¯ve got the endurance on me, do you have the speed?¡±


    The dwarf shifted uneasily and inched towards the door, then scowled and erupted in a torrent of curses, stamping the ground with his boots. ¡°You old skeleton! You had me going on there for a moment.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°The look on your face will be one of my most prized memories.¡±


    Grumbling, the dwarf folded his arms and leaned against the forge door, his face sulky.


    Malia fastened the last shoulder plate onto Hasda and frowned at me. ¡°Is that it?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind,¡± Hasda said, trying a few experimental twists. ¡°I¡¯m honored to have this armor.¡±


    ¡°Precious little as there is,¡± Malia said, her face sour.


    ¡°I can give the boy a coat of chainmail,¡± Phaeus offered. He eyed the armor with a look that rivaled Malia¡¯s displeasure. ¡°After I give that a proper scouring, of course.¡±


    ¡°No chain mail,¡± Malia said, a little too quickly. I gave her a questioning look but she shushed me. ¡°Greaves and bracers would be nice, though. Preferably matching, both each other and the gifted armor.¡±


    ¡°Demanding, aren¡¯t we?¡± Phaeus pushed off the door and trundled over to help Hasda remove the armor. He took the helmet in his hands and flipped it around. ¡°What color plumage do you want? Purple?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Malia said.


    ¡°No,¡± I said at the same time.


    Malia glared at me and I gave her a toothy grin. She thought she had me whipped already, but even with our reunion hookup I wasn¡¯t going to be swayed that easily.


    ¡°Carthian blue,¡± I said, not breaking my stare with the gorgon. ¡°Hasda is my champion as much as yours, and as he¡¯s ours he¡¯ll represent us both.¡±


    ¡°You good with that?¡± Phaeus asked him.


    Hasda nodded. ¡°I have no objections.¡±


    ¡°Smart lad.¡± Phaeus winked at him and collected the rest of the armor, as well as the sword. Arms full, he trudged into the forge. ¡°I¡¯ll have these repaired and augmented by tomorrow night. Three days, max, if I have spare greaves and bracers that won¡¯t require too much refashioning. Otherwise, end of the week, tops.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Phaeus,¡± Malia called after him. Her voice was sweet but her eyes were shooting daggers my way.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it,¡± the dwarf replied, disappearing inside the forge.


    When Phaeus was out of earshot, Hasda faced Malia with a serious expression and said, ¡°Please don¡¯t be mad at Charax. I know the symbolism means a lot to him, and he would have preferred his orange, but he went with a color that represents both of you. So, please, no fighting.¡±


    Malia¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°Quite the forward one, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Charax says it¡¯s called initiative.¡±


    She choked on a laugh and gave me a foxy grin. ¡°Oh, did he, now?¡±


    ¡°Goats,¡± I said, glowering.


    She laughed. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here before your father really does start a fight.¡± After tracing an oval in the air, she snapped her fingers, and her violet portal flared to life. Together we stepped through, transported to Maas Bierg to feast and receive the details of Hasda¡¯s first trial.

 Chapter 14: "The Hall"

    Evening came, and with it the sounds and smells of a feast in the Long Hall. As we approached the Hall, which was an open-roofed, pillared temple, we were bombarded with the smells of roast boar, sizzling steak, and grilled mutton. The aroma of ambrosia mixed with the heady scents of wines, most of which were tangy, grape-based vintages but I could smell strawberry, apple, and cherry mixed in. One softer blend stood out from the rest, a flat pear smell spiced up with raspberry.


    I grinned. No insignificant feast was ever graced with one of Loutro¡¯s new concoctions. Seppo must have high hopes for the lad, if he had asked Loutro to brew up something special. Malia must have had the same thought, because her brow quirked up and her eyes found mine as soon as she smelled it. I nodded. ¡°If you¡¯re asking, I¡¯ve never tasted that one.¡±


    She laughed. ¡°I suppose you should be asking me. It must be new, then. A good sign.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s new?¡± Hasda asked. Walking between us, he positively flashed in his robes, which were royal purple with a golden sash.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see soon enough,¡± Malia said, smiling mysteriously.


    Even though this was his feast and he was the guest of honor, I still refused to let him go about half-naked in a toga. I wanted to keep the more experienced mortal women of Nebesa off him as long as possible, and those pesky minor goddess flirts as well. He could play that game when he had his feet under him, but for now he needed to focus on the task at hand. Despite being rather free with his body growing up in the forest, he seemed uncomfortable under the unfamiliar, searching eyes of the women we passed and kept tugging the shoulders of his robes up. And who could blame him? They looked like lionesses stalking their next kill.


    Malia put a hand on his elbow. Face straight ahead, she whispered out of the side of her mouth, ¡°Ignore the harpies. You can do far better than those gutter scum.¡±


    Hasda peeked around behind her wings, his face scrunched up. ¡°Those are harpies? I see elves...centaurs...that one looks normal but I think that¡¯s a Selkie skin over her shoulder.¡±


    ¡°Metaphor, Hasda,¡± she said, tugging him along. ¡°Although you will see some actual avians at the feast this evening. Seppo is especially fond of having harpies airlift seafood straight to his plate.¡±


    We made it into the Hall without Hasda getting too much more flustered. Inside, the long, mahogany table was piled high with fresh fruits and vegetables, open spaces left at intervals for the coming roasts. The feasting table could seat hundreds, since it had to accommodate the dozens of major and minor gods in Nebesa, as well as their mortal servants significant enough to merit a seat at the divine table. Out of sight down the hill was the Mortal Hall, which held the table where less significant mortals and disgraced minor gods would feast during the major holidays. No smoke wafted into sight, so today¡¯s feast would only merit the main pantheon and interested minor deities, at most.


    At the moment, only Seppo sat at the table, lounging comfortably at the head, all the way on the other end of the Hall. Satyrs milled about like ants, arranging cornucopias, bringing place settings, and preparing the platters for the grilled meats. The leafy avatars of dryads fluttered along behind the scruffy goat people, critiquing their produce arrangements and badgering them about silverware order that none of the gods respected anyways. It was nice to see some things never changed.


    We navigated down the left side of the table, careful to stay out of the way of the satyrs and dryads. With the table wide enough to seat three across at the head, Hasda had been given a place at Seppo¡¯s right hand, the left reserved for his future wife, should he ever wed one. The place had been set and left empty for as long as I could remember. Malia and I would be right next to Hasda at the first two seats on his right, the left side of the table. As we neared our seats, Seppo smiled and straightened in his.


    ¡°Ah, so we finally get to meet Charax¡¯s Annointed One. A fine lad, if a bit underclad.¡±


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Hasda bowed, both to show respect and cover his bewilderment. ¡°Thank you, Your Grace.¡±


    ¡°His armor is being repaired by Phaeus,¡± Malia said. ¡°It will be ready in time for the trial, though.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s, er, good.¡± Seppo reclined and looked uncomfortable. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t want him going in unarmed, now, would we?¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡± Malia¡¯s voice was sweet.


    Seppo shifted and glanced away. ¡°Right. Er, please, be seated.¡±


    I had no idea what had Seppo so unsettled until I pulled out my seat and noticed the warmth on my arm. Malia had threaded her hand around my elbow again. It was a comfortable, familiar feeling, and I¡¯d paid it no attention. Poor Seppo.


    ¡°Do try to be cordial to our host,¡± I hissed under my breath as we took our seats.


    She gave me a coy smile and released my arm as she coiled up in her chair. ¡°Of course, dear.¡±


    I grunted and gave her a stern look. She never behaved, and at an event as important as Hasda¡¯s inaugural quest, I¡¯d trust her not to start scheming about as much as I trusted Hasda not to get lost in Nebesa, staggering around in awestruck wonder. Which was extremely likely, because the lad was ogling Seppo¡¯s exoskeleton with the rapt attention a toddler gave a shiny beetle. The pistons hissed and pumped as Seppo spread his arms wide, regaling the lad with tales of his exploits and engineering accomplishments.


    Hasda was safe in Seppo¡¯s hands. The head god was arguably more lonely than I was, despite the constant demands for his attention, and he liked to brag. What god didn¡¯t? But Seppo spoke in a straightforward manner. If Malia was the goddess of machinations, Seppo was the god of plain-faced truths. And the Carthians hadn¡¯t had a sponsored hero embark on trials in several generations, so the old god wanted to dote while he had the chance.


    ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late!¡± A pale goddess burst in through the pillars opposite us, stumbling to a halt behind a seat across the table. I didn¡¯t recognize her, but she looked young, so I wasn¡¯t surprised. Her emerald green chiton was surprisingly modest, the cloth flapping around her thin legs as she brought herself to an awkward stop. ¡°I am late, right? Oh, I do hope not.¡±


    ¡°Hello, Jade,¡± Malia said, voice cool. Her face looked guarded, which was unusual.


    ¡°Hi, Malia. Hello, Seppo. Who¡¯s this?¡± She tilted her head at Hasda. ¡°Is he the new champion? He must be. Hi, I¡¯m Jade.¡± She extended her hand across the table, but it didn¡¯t even reach Seppo, let alone the lad. Flushing, she jerked her hand back and hurried around the table, apologizing to Seppo as she bumped into the back of his seat. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve had a champion in Nebesa. I heard you¡¯re sponsored. Who is your patron?¡±


    ¡°Are,¡± Malia corrected. ¡°Who ¡®are¡¯ your patrons. That would be Charax and I.¡±


    ¡°Oh wow.¡± Jade¡¯s eyes went wide as she finally noticed me. She flitted around Hasda to stand right next to me, a little too close for my liking. Her sharp eyes matched the color of her dress, they were intense, and they were very much in my face. She didn¡¯t mean anything by it, but I still heard Malia¡¯s annoyed hiss behind me. ¡°You¡¯re really old, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    I coughed. ¡°And you¡¯re obviously new. Are you still wet behind the ears, or have you graduated yet?¡±


    ¡°Full goddess, almost finished with my first century. But, wow, are you really that ancient god Charax?¡± She tilted her head. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be more wrinkly.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s recovering from an early retirement, so all his wrinkles are on his heart,¡± Malia said, a hand on my arm as she leaned over to catch Jade¡¯s eye. Her serpents tickled me ear as they flicked their tongues. ¡°But your academy training is out of date. He¡¯s a seated god again.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Her mouth fell open, she was so excited. If Nebesa suddenly lost its gravity, she¡¯d shoot through the stars with all that energy. It was strangely refreshing, her enthusiasm. ¡°Wow. We haven¡¯t had a god abandon retirement since, well, I don¡¯t know. The Anals don¡¯t mention that ever happening.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s happened a couple times before,¡± I said. ¡°Well before your time. The last one barely reached mine.¡±


    ¡°Really? What happened?¡±


    ¡°Well, there was this crusty old badger, nasty fellow,¡± I said, settling in for a good yarn. ¡°And he¡ª¡±


    ¡°There was a badger god?¡± Jade said, eyes lighting up. ¡°That¡¯s so cool.¡±


    ¡°No, as in, a grumpy old fart,¡± I said, frowning. ¡°Now, he had this dame who was a total pain in the ass, and she kept pestering the whole time he was supposed to be retired, so he eventually came back so he¡¯d have the divine strength to endure her nagging.¡±


    Malia slapped my arm affectionately. ¡°You¡¯re thinking of yourself, you old sack.¡±


    ¡°Huh, I guess I am.¡± I smiled at her.


    Jade gave us both confused looks. ¡°So you used to be a badger?¡±


    ¡°Never.¡±


    ¡°Aww.¡± She sagged a little, but then she perked back up. ¡°Well, it¡¯s always cool seeing a living relic.¡±


    I blinked.


    ¡°Anyways, I¡¯m going to find my seat before I say something I¡¯m not supposed to. Seppo was afraid I¡¯d run my mouth and spoil that Hasda¡ª¡±


    ¡°Jade!¡± Seppo thundered, his arm augments clinking as he thumped the table.


    ¡°Whoops!¡± She jumped and darted off, scurrying around the dryads and satyrs as she made her escape. Seppo hadn¡¯t even gotten to his feet before she¡¯d vanished out of the Hall. Sighing, the old god settled back into his seat and resumed his conversation with Hasda.

 Chapter 15: "The Feast"

    I sighed and settled back in my chair. With sunset almost upon us, the other gods would soon join us. Hopefully soon. I was getting tired of not knowing the details of Hasda¡¯s trials, and I wouldn¡¯t dare stoop so low as to ask Malia. She¡¯d never let me live it down if I did.


    ¡°What an energetic goddess,¡± I said, toying with the silverware before me. ¡°What office does she hold? She can¡¯t be more than a minor deity.¡±


    Malia nodded into her chin, her free hand drumming the table. Although the goddess was well out of sight, Malia seemed to be able to track her movements through the stone. ¡°She is, very originally, the Goddess of Jade.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s her own goddess?¡± My eyebrows scrunched.


    ¡°Jade is both her name and the new mineral the Tingins, her people, discovered in their mountains.¡± Whatever plots Malia had brewing in her mind clouded her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s a somewhat rare and very ornate stone, and the Carthians lost their collective minds over it when news of its discovery reached their lands. It¡¯s only been three generations, but their fervor for the mineral still holds. Naturally,¡± she flicked a hand towards the departed goddess, ¡°such a devoted following deserves a Person of affection.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t like her.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that.¡± Malia blinked, clearing her eyes, and gave me a once-over. ¡°The Tingins are almost as savage as you, but Jade herself is fairly civilized.¡± She shrugged. ¡°But I won¡¯t spoil any surprises for tonight.¡± Her eyes sparkled. ¡°Speaking of nights.¡±


    The air swooshed behind me as a robed figure swept past. ¡°Seppo, darling!¡±


    ¡°Greetings, Ulti,¡± Seppo grumbled, annoyed at being interrupted once again.


    ¡°Where¡¯s that fabulous enthusiasm of yours?¡± Ulti struck a pose, a hand on their hip as they fluttered their eyes at the king. With the sun setting and the twilight hours upon us, Ulti¡¯s form blurred between their day and night forms. Their robes, blue beads that sparkled like a sea when the sun was up, bled black as the fabric sought to imitate the starry sky soon to come. As the God of Hours, Ulti reflected the time of day and the heavenly bodies, both the sun and the moon. It made for an interesting spectacle when the moon was visible during the day.


    Seppo frowned and waved Ulti around to the right side of the table. ¡°Be seated, Ulti, and save your theatrics for after the feast.¡±


    Ulti pouted but did as instructed, taking their place three seats down on the opposite side of the table from Malia and me. Soon after they were seated, the rest of the major Carthian deities began to arrive. Some I recognized, like the heavily-armored Goddess of Wisdom and Justice, Azoria, and the gnarled Arbiter of Nebesa, Kydon (who still swore, millenia later, that he didn¡¯t have a drop of troll blood in him). Others were new-to-me faces, like Tarrha, the water nymph Goddess of Beauty and Fertility and all that, who¡¯d clearly exaggerated her curves, and the salt-crusted crab man who introduced himself as Resef, the God of the Sea, as he took his seat across from us.


    I was surprised to see Phaeus walk into the Hall, and even more surprised when he took his seat directly across from me. Malia and I, as Hasda¡¯s patrons, being seated so prominently made sense, but last I knew, the dwarf had been a minor deity, a simple forge god. He looked beyond pleased to inform me that he¡¯d expanded his sphere of influence to God of Earth, not the world but the element, and had moved up the ranks to become a primary Carthian power. I gave Malia a sideways look, but she ignored it. Well, at least that would explain where Phaeus¡¯ verbal boldness, beyond its usual degree, had come from during our visit to Maas Telos.


    The arrival of dozens of minor deities took up the last few hours of twilight. I didn¡¯t even bother trying to pick out names or faces among them. Their Offices, and the gods who held them, changed as often as the tides. With how long I¡¯d been gone, I¡¯d have a better chance of recognizing lint that¡¯d once been between my toes than one of them. Of course, as soon as I thought that, Jade bounced her way back into the Hall, colliding with a satyr who¡¯d been trying to light a torch. Apologizing profusely, she backed into the minor deities seated behind her. The clattering of disturbed plates and silverware made its way all the way to our end of the table, and the embarrassed goddess muttered more rapid fire apologies as she bumbled her way to her seat.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    As darkness encroached on the Hall, the satyrs lit torches set in sconces on the pillars, their dryad supervisors steering clear of the open flames. The servants melted into the shadows as Seppo stood, striking his fork against the pistons on his forearm to get the gods¡¯ attention.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure by now you¡¯re all aware of the occasion for tonight¡¯s celebration,¡± he began, his voice augmented to be a rich, low tone that carried across the Hall. Rods hissing, he swept his hand towards Hasda. ¡°This fine, young lad is to be our first Hero in many generations.¡±


    Lots of cheering, clapping, and cutlery being cracked together.


    ¡°I¡¯ve spent the evening getting to know our new champion, and I can say that I¡¯m pleased with his character, spirit, and motivation. He comes from good stock, and I¡¯m confident his exploits will make a fine addition to our Annals. Once he¡¯s accomplished his Trials, that is.¡±


    Polite, yet supportive, laughter among the calls to get on with it.


    ¡°However, what you may not know¡­¡± he paused, slowly meeting each of their eyes, ¡°Is that he comes under the auspices of not one, but two patrons.¡±


    Confused murmurs swirled among the minor deities, although the major gods who¡¯d known me settled for contemplative looks.


    ¡°Yes, a good omen for the lad.¡± Seppo smiled as he looked at Malia. ¡°It seems our illustrious winged gorgon, fiercest war goddess we¡¯ve ever known, has seen fit to turn the world upside down once again. Some of you will remember Thane¡¯s predecessor, but most of you will not. For those who do, Charax has returned to our ranks as co-seat of the God of War. Make of that what you will.¡±


    Shrill whistling and jaunty cheers.


    ¡°Now.¡± He held up his hand for silence and waited for the gathered gods to settle. ¡°As for the lad, he will have three Trials before he can lead the army as our demigod, the first of which I have finally prepared. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all eager to hear the details, but before that, the feast.¡±


    Loud groans and vocal protests.


    Seppo laughed. ¡°All right, all right. But that was a good joke, eh? No? Fine.¡± He cleared his throat and drew himself up to his full height, his exoskeleton creaking against his weight. ¡°One of our newer members, Jade, has had trouble with a Kydonian tiger terrorizing her lands and devouring her miners. As this affects the livelihood of her people and the extraction of her Symbol, the lad will be tasked with removing the scourge from Tingin, be that driving the tiger off or killing it. How he completes this first trial will be up to him, so long as the outcome is the same.¡±


    Dozens of eyes pinned Jade to her seat. She dropped her gaze and fidgeted beneath the weight of so many gazes.


    Seppo cleared his throat again, his face unhappy. ¡°Stop that, all of you, or I¡¯ll throw the tiger at you myself. Anyways.¡± Still scowling, he shifted the weight of his exoskeleton around, his shoulders bobbing in a wave. ¡°The Trial shall begin in two days¡¯ time, to give the lad time to study his foe and prepare himself. As always, he will be able to consult his patrons, but he must perform the task himself. Failure to do so will result in the Trial being voided and another two added to compensate. I¡¯m sure I don¡¯t need to explain what failing to complete the Trial ensues.¡±


    Some awkward chuckles applauded Hasda¡¯s concerned yet confident face.


    ¡°But enough of this gloomy talk.¡± Seppo whipped his head around, searching the crowd. ¡°Where are those damned harpies with my fish?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not damned, Seppo,¡± Thane called over the chatter that erupted as the feast commenced. ¡°They just have the good sense to keep their distance from your ugly mug as long as possible.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather have my looks than your smell,¡± the old god retorted, squinting and wagging his finger at the young death god.


    The harpies finally arrived, depositing steaming trout and salmon on Seppo¡¯s plate, as well as Hasda¡¯s, while the satyrs returned bearing spitted boars and mounds of heaped steaks. A cool breeze carried the leaves of the dryads around the table, the spirits flitting here and there to check on the feasting gods. As plates emptied and bellies filled, the gods turned jovial, their conversations flowing as freely as the wine.


    For all their excitement, I found myself struggling to engage the smiley parts of my face. Kydonian tigers, unrelated to the god Kydon, were absolutely nasty brutes, and creatures you never wanted tasting human flesh. Nigh demigods themselves, they ignored mortal weapons like mountains ignored spring showers. It often took full-fledged gods working in tandem to kill just one, let alone corral it. And Hasda was expected to do just that. Alone, with mortal weapons, unaided by divine beings or powers. If Malia didn¡¯t have her fingers in every pot, I¡¯d think Seppo had sent Hasda on a suicide mission. But she could only meddle so much.


    Whatever she¡¯d done, she seemed confident in Hasda¡¯s success. She was deep in conversation with Tarrha, the water nymph, smiling broadly as they whispered about¡ª


    I felt my face burning as I pretended not to hear what they were discussing. Variations among the different Kama Sutras was the last topic that I¡¯d consider polite dinner conversation, and Malia painted far too detailed a picture with her words. Sensing my distress, she glanced at me and mouthed, ¡°We¡¯ll talk later.¡± Smile coy, she dove back into her conversation with relish.


    I frowned. Oh yes, we¡¯d talk later, but not about that, and she certainly wouldn¡¯t be happy when we did. Hasda had two days to prepare himself for his impossible Trial, and I¡¯d need her to lay aside her smoke and mirrors long enough to let me in on her plans. But she was a tough nut to crack. I grinned. I might be old, but I did have my ways.

 Chapter 16: "The Loophole"

    By the time the feasting ended, Ulti¡¯s robes had flushed a brilliant orange, mirroring the cheerful sunrise of the land below. Many gods had fallen asleep on the table, faces plastered with half-eaten food and arms sprawled into the dishes. Loutro never minded the mess, since it meant his pigs would eat good. Most of the other partygoers who hadn¡¯t crashed were piss drunk, their words slurred and their laughter raucous.


    Someone must have forgotten to tell the satyrs only to give Hasda diluted wine, for the poor lad was passed out in his chair, snoring like a storm-flooded waterfall. Next to him, Seppo sat with his elbows on the table, chin resting on his folded hands as he brooded over the remnants of the feast. Malia and the water nymph had slipped out hours ago for girl time or whatever her excuse was. Thane and Phaeus, before they¡¯d collapsed in each other¡¯s arms, had been debating whether Peklo belonged to the earth, death, or deserved its own separate deity and now slept peacefully, leaning against each other, their argument settled by rest. Jade was hiccuping down the table, chittering her awkward laughter at some drunken joke.


    As for me, I¡¯d developed a hangover without the bliss of sleep to soften its arrival and sat glowering at the gods who¡¯d found respite before me. Seppo caught my look and tapped the table.


    ¡°So, Charax, about these trials.¡±


    I grunted. Raising my eyebrows hurt, like someone had spears on either side of my head and was slowly pressing the points into my skull in the soft spot behind my temples. But even with my splitting headache I wouldn¡¯t spoil the chance to get a leg up on Malia. While I knew she¡¯d figured out the first trial before tonight, I had no idea if she¡¯d discovered the whole picture. I rolled my hand for him to continue.


    ¡°Have you decided what you¡¯re going to do about them?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid Malia is just as tight-lipped as ever. If she knows what comes next, she hasn¡¯t told me yet.¡±


    Seppo snorted. ¡°She doesn¡¯t know either because no one knows. Part of the reason I gave him such a difficult first task was I needed time to find two other heroic feats for him to accomplish.¡±


    I nodded and winced at the pounding the movement gave my head. It made sense. ¡°What will you do if he finishes quickly?¡±


    ¡°Schedule the next feast a long way off,¡± Seppo said, chuckling. But then he sobered, staring at the lad. ¡°The equipment you¡¯ve left in Phaeus¡¯ care, does it have any celestial steel?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I reached for a tankard that¡¯d survived the festivities with a quarter of its contents left. Although I didn¡¯t know what was in it, I was pretty sure I¡¯d seen Malia drinking from it earlier, so it should be palatable enough. When I sipped it, I nearly spat it all over Seppo and only just managed to politely dribble it back into the glass. It smelled like strawberries but tasted like distilled cow manure. I frowned at the drink and set it back down. Wherever my train of thought had been going, it¡¯d derailed and fallen from the heavens.


    Seppo laughed quietly and downed his own drink. Brushing at his face, he said, ¡°With your blessing on him, he could probably handle the steel.¡±


    Oh, right. That topic. I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. That anointing, I wouldn¡¯t call it incomplete, but far less powerful than if I¡¯d been a seated god.¡±


    Seppo watched me over the rim of his mug. ¡°Has he had any ambrosia?¡±


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°No.¡± I caught my head shake just in time. The pangs of the headache weren¡¯t quite anvil blows this time. ¡°I raised him, but not as anything more than a mortal. My blessing might keep his eyes from burning out, but I don¡¯t think he has the constitution for it yet.¡±


    ¡°He should, after this first Trial. I¡¯d highly advise it.¡±


    I nodded my thanks and ignored the cymbal crash in my head.


    His eyes glowed like embers, his face contemplative. ¡°If you¡¯re up to it,¡± his pistoned hand clanked as he tipped his drink towards me, ¡°I would also recommend scouting the Tingid mountains before your, er, Co-Seat returns.¡±


    Frowning, I picked up a fork and twirled it, just to give my hands something to do. ¡°You think Malia¡¯s going to sabotage the Trial?¡±


    ¡°Are you really that drunk? Of course not!¡± His raised voice made several sleepers stir, and he scowled as he hunched back down. Softer, he said, ¡°This is Malia we¡¯re talking about, but because it¡¯s her, I suspect she¡¯s already set up several ¡®convenient¡¯ gifts for Hasda to discover along the way. She¡¯s crafty enough that, whatever they are, I won¡¯t be able to pin them on her. But I¡¯d rather not have Kydon spoiling everything by opening an investigation and disqualifying the task the moment the first Trial concludes. And besides, I need the extra time to come up with the second Trial.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll sniff around and see what I can find.¡± I glanced down the table towards the wasted minor gods. ¡°Do you think she¡¯d be lucid enough to help?¡±


    ¡°Even sober, I don¡¯t know how much help Jade would be.¡± Seppo shook his head. ¡°No, this is something you need to look into yourself. You might as well get the lay of the land and the measure of the task while you¡¯re there. And it wouldn¡¯t do for you, as the lad¡¯s advisor, to go in blind yourself.¡±


    Across the table, Thane snorted in his sleep and smacked his lips as he readjusted his position.


    ¡°One more thing.¡± Seppo set his drink on the table and drummed the rim with his fingers. ¡°Because this is Malia, and we both know she can¡¯t help sticking her fingers into everything and I happen to like the lad, I¡¯ll give you this one failsafe. Anything Malia pulls over on you, she gets. You know her better than any of us, and if you can¡¯t catch it, well, that¡¯s some damned good meddling, then.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°She¡¯ll have Hasda seated at this table as one of the Twelve if you give her that caveat.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m sending you ahead.¡± Seppo tapped the side of his head and smiled. ¡°Any traps, any surprise gifts, you¡¯ll be able to spot them before she can cheapen the spectacle.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not as adept at catching her as you think.¡± I pointed at myself and shrugged. ¡°You think I¡¯d be here if I was?¡±


    Humming to himself, he folded his arms and sat back in his seat. ¡°I think you¡¯re not giving yourself enough credit. Besides, you wouldn¡¯t have your Sword or Spear on you if you truly didn¡¯t want them.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t the only thing I¡¯d wanted, but I wasn¡¯t going to state the obvious.


    ¡°Just don¡¯t let any of the obvious tricks through,¡± he said as he rolled his neck. ¡°I know you can do that much.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡± I sighed. ¡°I really have been gone long enough to be out of practice and, as you mentioned, this is Malia we¡¯re talking about. Subtlety is her signature, and I haven¡¯t had to read it for centuries.¡±


    His exoskeleton hissed as he waved the comment away. ¡°Bah. You¡¯ll sniff it out. Use your link as Co-Seats, if you have to.¡±


    I stiffened at the suggestion, but Seppo didn¡¯t seem to notice. While I could stalk Malia¡¯s mind, to a degree, through our connection as war gods, I would never invade her privacy like that. Not that I¡¯d get far. Her mind was a well-guarded catacombs that I wasn¡¯t sure even she could navigate successfully all the time. But Seppo had been a bachelor for far too long to understand just how gross his suggestion was.


    ¡°Where exactly is Tingid?¡± I asked. Best way to get my mind off the suggestion was to move on from it.


    ¡°Out east.¡± He waved his hand behind him, gesturing vaguely. ¡°If you head through Maas Falgo, you¡¯ll come out at the edge of the forest that marks the edge of the Tingin tribal lands. The jade mines and the Kydonian tiger will be to the north.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m assuming you want me to go now.¡±


    Seppo nodded. ¡°If you want to get a head start and investigate before the Trial begins. I¡¯ll inform Malia of your whereabouts when she returns from...whatever she¡¯s doing.¡±


    I grunted and pushed to my feet.


    Immediate regret. Hangover headache rushed my brain, making the room tilt and my vision blur. I stumbled against my chair, gripping it for support. My fingers dug into the wood as I gritted my teeth and waited for the dizziness to subside. Once it did, I waved a portal open and hoped it was to the correct Maas.


    Cold wind hit me as I stumbled through, snapping me awake. The dull ache in my skull was still there, but the warmth from the festivities was gone. I seemed to remember Maas Falgo being a frozen wasteland the last time I¡¯d been through, and it didn¡¯t look like anyone had claimed it in my absence. Or maybe they had, and they¡¯d left it as an experiment to see what an arctic Peklo would be like. Either way, I wouldn¡¯t be staying long. Orange energy froze in spikes as I traced a new portal in the air.


    The sylvan land of Tingid was much warmer but blanketed in night. Ulti must not have pranced this far yet, so I probably had another couple hours of pre-dawn before day caught up with me. Grumbling, I set off into the forest to find whatever Malia had stashed away for the upcoming Trial.

 Chapter 17: "The Tingins"

    By mid-morning I had quite the list of tricks that Malia had employed. Pitfalls, goats with tranquilizers laced in their fur, enchanted bracers that looked suspiciously like Phaeus¡¯ handiwork, and a thick tree with its trunk sawed halfway through and covered by an illusion. I¡¯d set off the various traps and dispelled what magic I could, although I had the bracers strung up on my belt. If Phaeus had made them, he¡¯d want them back. But every gift I¡¯d discovered seemed too simple, too straightforward, to encompass all that Malia had done, and that unsettled me.


    Perhaps the most crafty of her snares were the laced goats, which would have passed a surface inspection, but simple goats giving the tiger debilitating indigestion would¡¯ve been too obvious. And that was the most subtle one. The others might as well have had Oracles posted next to them, heralding the divine intervention for how low-key thoes methods were. I knew most of them were false positives, to throw off just such an investigation as mine, but I hadn¡¯t the foggiest what the real gift was. My lack of direction, coupled with the residual headache from the hangover, left me in a crabby and uncharitable mood.


    So while I knew that the mining village was, at best, a homey collection of wooden shacks, I couldn¡¯t help but view it as a pathetic way to scrape out an existence. Far away from any other settlements, the mountainside dwellings looked like bundles of fallen trees haphazardly tied together. The huts dotted the mountainside around where I guessed the mouth of the mine to be. Pale-skinned people, the Tingin miners and their families, milled about among the huts, treading paths to and from the forest and up and down the mountain. They weren¡¯t particularly remarkable, physically speaking, but their faces bore a weathered, hardy look that reminded me of wind-blasted oaks.


    To the east of the village, the mountains dipped to form a natural pass that led to wildlands beyond. We knew some kind of nomadic people occupied the wildlands to the east because they¡¯d occasionally slipped over to mingle with the furthest frontier of the Carthian Empire, and they¡¯d brought strange gods with them whose powers felt like oily, spice-laden cousins of our own. But that had been centuries ago, and the nomads had disappeared after they returned through the mountain pass.


    Despite my intense scouring of the land, I saw no signs of the Kydonian tiger plaguing the Tingins. The forest showed no traces of the beast, neither scat nor tracks, and the village was far too calm for the feline to be reclining nearby. That left the mines, but I wouldn¡¯t venture down those by myself.


    I frowned.


    Kydonian tigers, though rare, weren¡¯t so scarce that we knew nothing of them. Full-grown, they held enough divine essence to match a demigod. That being said, they lacked the intelligence to rise to deity themselves and none had claimed them as a sacred beast. They weren¡¯t social, except to mate, and they kept well enough away from humans unless they absolutely had to interact. While their hides kept them mostly safe from mortal weapons, humans were inerringly stupid creatures with a mean, destructive streak. Bygone mortal champions had gotten scooped up as celestial heroes after plotting the demise of a tiger foolish enough to remain in their territory too long.


    But the tigers loved the outdoors. They hunted beneath the stars and slept in the trees. In the thick of winter they¡¯d roll through snowdrifts, and when spring arrived they¡¯d greet the rains with whipping tails and excited chatter. For one to remain so long underground was wholly unnatural, and if it weren¡¯t so cruel I¡¯d have wagered Malia had engineered the whole Trial.


    Devious, she might be, but she wasn¡¯t that much of a bitch. She had a method to her madness, and inflicting madness on as majestic a creature as a Kydonian tiger just wasn¡¯t in her nature. But that meant the Trial had a host of unanswered questions surrounding it. Why was the Kydonian tiger here? How did it get into the mine? Was it lost inside the shafts, forced to ambush the miners for food? Or had it hidden itself away, relishing each meal? I couldn¡¯t help but recall how little had been said about the ¡°why¡± of this Trial¡¯s scenario.


    And I couldn¡¯t get over the niggling in the back of my mind that I was still missing the obvious obfuscation. Malia never dealt in open deception. Ever. She had something up her sleeve for Hasda that I hadn¡¯t found and, while I had Seppo¡¯s word that if she pulled a fast one on me, Kydon wouldn¡¯t prosecute it, I couldn¡¯t just let it go at that. I knew there was something more to be found. I wasn¡¯t just going to let it be, knowing something was out there.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    I decided to try the villagers. While it was a long shot that Malia had exposed herself to them, it couldn¡¯t hurt to ask if they¡¯d seen another deity slinking about their forests, dropping gifts in her wake. Heck, she might have even bribed them into a couple of her plots. As I left the forest and approached the village, I felt something tickle at the corner of my nose. The cloying scent of pine needles, maybe. Whatever it was, it made me want to sneeze.


    The way the villagers stilled when they saw me made me second-guess the whole cordial conversation route. If Malia had been through here, either they hadn¡¯t seen her or she¡¯d warned them off me. But then I paused and scratched at that stupid itch. No, of course she didn¡¯t. Why would she have? She¡¯d have to predict that I¡¯d be here, pulling up all her carefully laid designs, and further presume that I¡¯d reveal myself to the Tingins instead of staying out of sight.


    Then I realized that a tall, skeletal figure in dark robes suddenly emerging from the forest might not be the best way to spring unexpected greetings on a group of mortals. I laughed and pushed my sleeves past my elbows, trying on my friendliest face. It felt false, even to me, but a smiling god was always better than a furious one.


    The Tingins weren¡¯t put at ease, however, and they watched me with wary eyes, mothers shielding their children and slowly, cautiously, pushing them back towards the hut. A trio of men, two middle-aged warriors flanking an aging chief, approached me, careful to carry their spears in a relaxed but ready manner.


    ¡°Greetings,¡± I called, still several dozen feet from the village. I stopped and spread my arms, trying to dispel any threatening appearances. ¡°My wife is always wandering off, getting into trouble she shouldn¡¯t be, and I thought she might have passed you by. Have you seen any other strangers in recent days?¡± Not exactly the full picture, but enough for their mortal minds to grasp. I wasn¡¯t about to spend several hours explaining the finer details of my relationship with Malia.


    The men stiffened at my words, and then huddled together and conversed in hushed whispers. While I couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying, the sounds of their voices brushed against me like the beating of bat wings. The smell of pine needles surged, plugging my nostrils so quickly I couldn¡¯t help but sneeze. The sound made the men jump, but they had some steel in them because they came closer.


    ¡°We...not see, Dark One,¡± the left warrior said in broken Carthian.


    I frowned and resisted the urge to cross my arms. Surely, the frontier hadn¡¯t spread so far or so thin that the language had deteriorated this much.


    The second warrior mistook my scowl and started whispering furiously to the first. ¡°Don¡¯t antagonize the demon, you idiot! We¡¯re cursed enough already. We don¡¯t need the wrath of the forest heaped on our heads as well.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s your Carthian, Darrus?¡± the first snapped. ¡°My vocabulary was already limited, and I haven¡¯t had to speak it for years. I¡¯m doing the best I can.¡±


    ¡°Well do better.¡± Darrus tried to be subtle with his pointing, using the index finger wrapped around the shaft of his spear to gesture in my direction. ¡°He doesn¡¯t look very happy.¡±


    To be honest, my scowl had deepened as they¡¯d started arguing. Not because of what they were saying, but because of the language they were speaking in. At first, it made my ears tickle, like mosquitoes trapped in my ear canals, but the feeling vanished when the gift of tongues smoothed my understanding. When I spoke my first words in their native tongue, it felt like I¡¯d swallowed pure honey.


    ¡°You have not offended the forest spirits.¡± I had to be careful how I presented who I was, so they wouldn¡¯t flee in a blind panic when Hasda arrived tomorrow. ¡°In fact, they have heard your cries. A shaman¡ª¡± not my word, but the best their language could do, ¡°¡ªwill come with tomorrow¡¯s morn to rid you of the mountain scourge.¡±


    ¡°What tidings this specter brings,¡± the elder said in a hushed voice. He spoke as if I weren¡¯t there, or couldn¡¯t understand him. ¡°But good omens, or ill, to have a shade proclaim a coming shaman?¡±


    ¡°Alas, I was the only one available. We¡¯ll make sure to send a prettier spirit next time.¡±


    They stared blankly, not laughing at my joke.


    I sighed.


    ¡°We appreciate your tidings, Dark One,¡± the first warrior said. ¡°We will await the arrival of your shaman.¡±


    I nodded and went back to the forest, leaving the trio to worry about what tomorrow would bring. I had my own concerns to deal with.


    The villagers had spoken to me in the same language the nomads spoke. It wasn¡¯t exactly the same as I remembered it, but with the half-millennium since my last encounter, I wasn¡¯t surprised the language had evolved. Pale Carthians weren¡¯t uncommon, but none had such startingly blue eyes as the Tingins. I suppose I should have expected something strange, what with Tingin not being a Carthian territory before my retirement and Jade being an atypical name for a deity, but I hadn¡¯t expected the pantheon to have absorbed a wholly non-Carthian people and god.


    My blessing would grant Hasda the gift of tongues, so communicating with the miners wouldn¡¯t be a problem. What would be, however, was their apparent mistrust of the forest spirits. Even if they accepted him as a shaman, there was no telling what they¡¯d do once the Trial was complete. Assuming Hasda got that far. But the one thing I was certain of was that Malia had one more trick in store, it didn¡¯t involve the villagers, and I still hadn¡¯t found it. Gritting my teeth, I stomped through the woods to give the land one more look before I went back to Nebesa.


    Malia was not going to get one over on me on the very first Trial. That just wasn¡¯t happening.

 Chapter 18: "The Goats"

    By the next day, I still hadn¡¯t found any new snares or stashes, and I was hopping mad. I¡¯d stayed up all night, making sure there weren¡¯t any nocturnal shenanigans I¡¯d missed during my search the day before, but I came up empty-handed. Now I was cold, damp with dew, and had exchanged the hangover headache for the divine equivalent of sleep deprivation mind pains. As the morning sunlight filtered through the forest, I finally admitted a frustrated defeat and went to wait for Hasda, Malia, and the other gods to arrive for the inauguration of the Trials.


    A purple portal peeled off a section of the air just outside the forest, and a moment later everyone came through. Jade went first, stumbling over her feet and her words as she tried to welcome the other gods to her territory. Among the divine retinue accompanying Seppo were Kydon, Vrixia, Synnefo, Thane, and Azoria. While Seppo would throw the proverbial wine bottle to christen the Trial, Kydon would officiate its commencement. Vrixia, the harvest goddess, and Synnefo, apprentice to the storm god, had come to gawk, and my initial assessment that Azoria was here to ensure the legality of the proceedings shattered when I saw the eye babies she and Thane were making. Seppo had his back pointedly to the pair, and even I felt uncomfortable with their lack of decorum.


    Hasda and Malia came last, the gorgon slithering behind the lad with a protective look that she veiled as soon as we made eye contact. Flashing me a smile, she nudged Hasda my way and kept a reassuring hand on the lad¡¯s elbow. He looked dazed, stumbling around in his gleaming bronze armor, the bristles of his helmet¡¯s blue plumage shivering in the morning wind. In addition to the breastplate and helmet, he wore strange limb guards, metal bracers and greaves with layers of leather wrapped around the outside. It looked like he¡¯d speared pillows on his forearms and legs, and I couldn¡¯t help frowning as Malia dragged him over to me.


    ¡°What is this?¡± I gestured at the unusual armor.


    Malia quirked a brow. ¡°Doesn¡¯t remind you of anything?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s going to be fighting a Kydonian tiger,¡± I said, emphasizing the last two words. ¡°Not raising guard dogs.¡±


    ¡°You really have no imagination sometimes, Charax.¡± Malia tutted and shook her head. Narrowing her eyes, she leaned in and whispered, ¡°Nothing to say about...anything in particular?¡±


    ¡°No. Should I?¡± I whispered back. Straightening, I snapped, ¡°Hasda, don¡¯t wander off.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± The lad was staring up at the trees, staggering about with his neck craned all the way back. ¡°I heard Kydonian tigers sleep in the trees. Do you think it¡¯s up there?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to consider that a request for advice, and no.¡± I ignored Malia¡¯s questioning look and pushed her wing out of the way so I could see Hasda better. ¡°It seems to stay in the mines all day. I haven¡¯t seen a single sign of it since I arrived.¡±


    His disappointment lasted until Seppo dragged him into some tale reminiscing the days of the infant Tingin frontier, when Carthians were just starting to encroach on nomadic tribe lands.


    As we made our way through the woodlands, Jade in the lead chittering away, Malia turned more and more sour, until finally her pouting overflowed and she punched my arm. ¡°You seriously don¡¯t have anything to say? I know you were digging up my toys.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°Much as it pains me to admit this, I couldn¡¯t find the important one.¡±


    ¡°You couldn¡¯t?¡± Her brow furrowed. ¡°I would¡¯ve thought the goats would catch your attention.¡±


    It clicked.


    Goats had been the bane of younger Malia¡¯s existence. They were stubborn creatures who refused her machinations for no other reason than they felt like it, and not a single goatly augury in her temple had turned out favorable. The worst atrocity was the time Malia, then the Goddess of Death, had taken her armies outside Carthian territory to squash the civilization of an infant city-state. The city¡¯s general had proved just as wily as Malia, and had routed her soldiers with a night ambush in which he¡¯d tied torches to the herd of goats and driven them ahead of his own army, making Malia¡¯s troops mistake them for a much larger force. Malia was inexperienced and on her own, and she shook the halls of Nebesa with her fury when she discovered the ruse the next day. I had teased her relentlessly until she conscripted my help in quashing her enemies. Our relationship began shortly after that.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    And here, I had mistaken the goats as a distraction from her real plans. I¡¯d never guessed she would¡¯ve done something just for the inside joke. I held my sides laughing. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it. That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°You think I¡¯d risk disqualifying Hasda¡¯s first task?¡± She made the comment sound offhand, but there was an edge to her voice.


    I gave her a look. ¡°This is you we¡¯re talking about. I can¡¯t imagine you would set up all those gifts for me to discover, just as a welcome back present.¡±


    ¡°I take it back.¡± A smile crept across her face. ¡°You do have some imagination in you after all.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Her eyes sparkled. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you, you big idiot.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°There really isn¡¯t anything past that? No big reveal waiting in the wings?¡±


    She shook her wings and checked under her feathers. ¡°No surprises here.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Never thought I¡¯d live to see the day where Malia played her cards face up.¡±


    ¡°Just this once,¡± she said, but the way she said it made suspicion flare in my chest. I narrowed my eyes at her, but she simply smiled and kept moving.


    We passed through the forest quickly. Despite our larger group size, we weren¡¯t slowed by searching the underbrush and tree hollows for Malia¡¯s deposits. When we reached the final rise before the mining village, we slowed and Seppo took the high ground, shushing Jade and sending her down with the rest of us. His exoskeleton hissed as he settled into a comfortable stance.


    ¡°Well, lad, I¡¯ve enjoyed our talks,¡± he said, smiling down at Hasda, ¡°and it gives me great pleasure to send you after your first Trial. May you find success in this endeavor, and your patrons able where you are not.¡± With that, he nodded to Kydon and retreated down the path to stand next to the other gods, keeping his eyes very firmly away from Azoria and Thane.


    Kydon stood where Seppo had been just a moment ago and launched into a dry, long-winded explanation of the terms and conditions of the Trial, most of which we already knew. Tame, slay, or drive away the beast, in Hasda¡¯s own power, aided by the knowledge provided by his patron gods. No outside celestial aide beyond that, though mortals could help, et cetera, et cetera, and so on and so forth. As he droned on, we all mentally checked out, except for Thane and Azoria, who¡¯d been checked out since we got here. I left Malia to keep Hasda from drifting into the forest or off into sleep and sidled up next to Thane.


    Honestly, for a fling he could have done far worse. Azoria was pretty, and she¡¯d worn a white gown with blue accents that complimented her auburn hair, which rested on her shoulders in twin braids. Her pixie face belied her military prowess, and the ornate rapier at her side wasn¡¯t just for show. Though she practically floated, she was so wispy, she had a shrewd mind and was generally astute. She¡¯d never quite reached spinster status, but she certainly had been light on relationships up to this point, so I¡¯d give her the benefit of the doubt about this one.


    I tapped Thane on the shoulder. Careful to keep my voice down, I said, ¡°Why are you even here, if you¡¯re just going to spend all your time womanizing?¡±


    ¡°Fate¡¯s timing is never convenient for those who plan outside of fate,¡± he said, a dreamy look on his face. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m the god of death. I would never pass up the chance to collect on a Kydonian tiger.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I frowned. ¡°So why is she here? Outside of ogling you, of course.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll see to the rules and make sure they¡¯re followed, when she has the time.¡±


    ¡°Oh, she will?¡± I shook my head. ¡°This isn¡¯t your first century, for either of you. Grow up.¡±


    ¡°Says the cranky old man making out behind the fountain like a schoolboy.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    Azoria chittered a laugh. Several heads turned our direction and Kydon shot me a look without interrupting his speech. I glared at them all and turned back to Thane.


    ¡°Fine. Point taken. But you¡¯re no schoolboy yourself, and this behavior is beneath both of you.¡±


    ¡°Mmm, but it¡¯s so delicious.¡± His voice was sickly sweet, vomit-inducing syrup that made me want to take a bath.


    I shook my head and tried to scrape the dirty feeling off my tongue with my teeth. Clearing my throat, I said, ¡°Are you sure Saffi didn¡¯t get involved?¡±


    ¡°If he did, I should thank him later,¡± Thane said, that stupid dreamy tone coating his voice.


    Azoria blushed slightly and averted her eyes for the first time. ¡°I...went to him. For advice, and assistance.¡±


    I grunted. That actually made a lot more sense than these two randomly fawning over each other. Saffi had stolen away the office of matchmaker from Tarrha, the goddess of beauty and love, and he was worse than Malia with how many pots he stuck his fingers into. But it wasn¡¯t uncommon for gods to seek his help softening themselves up to relationships, in general or for political reasons.


    While Azoria hadn¡¯t been in a ton of relationships, she¡¯d also rarely put herself out there, so getting a little magic confidence boost probably helped grease the wheels. Thane was still coming into his youthful vitality, by comparison, and if he was aiming for the position of party god I wouldn¡¯t be shocked to see him try to bed every willing goddess in Nebesa. But then I frowned as I realized that, despite his younger centuries, I couldn¡¯t for the life of me remember Thane being in a relationship before my retirement. He¡¯d had plenty of opportunity before, and I could only assume since, but I was ignorant as to his history in love.


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t blame you for that. But you,¡± I thumped Thane¡¯s shoulder, ¡°should know better. Lay off until the others have left, and then you can go find a bush somewhere and do your business.¡±


    ¡°...and with that, the specifics have been detailed, the foundations of the Trial laid, and the hero prepared to embark on his quest,¡± Kydon said, projecting his voice our direction. Serious as always, he scanned the gods, narrowing his eyes when he saw us, and bowed before descending the hill. Seppo rattled and hissed as he opened his golden portal, and he and the other spectators returned to Nebesa, leaving me and Hasda with Malia, Jade, Thane and Azoria.

 Chapter 19: "The Circumvention"

    With the other gods gone, Jade bounced in front of us and tried her best to be a welcoming host. ¡°You might want to wear your Veils,¡± she said. ¡°I won¡¯t, of course, because the Tingins are me people and they know me, but they¡¯re wary of outsiders and they can be a little skittish. I¡¯ll introduce Hasda to them, so they should be okay with him, but with other gods¡ª¡±


    ¡°We understand, Jade,¡± Malia said, putting a hand on Jade¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Thane and Azoria sobered next to me so fast I thought someone had dumped buckets of ice water over them. All the lovey-dovey was gone, and they met Jade¡¯s concerned look with serious, clear eyes.


    ¡°Do you have a mental map of the mines?¡± Azoria asked.


    Jade blinked. ¡°I...yes, I do. I can send it to you. Wait.¡± She frowned, her fingers flying to her temples. ¡°I can¡¯t. You¡¯re not in my telepathic contact list. Of course, it¡¯s not a very large list right now, I only know a bunch of demigods and some minor gods I met at the party, but they don¡¯t need the map of the mines and I don¡¯t want to bother them. So I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Jade.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I can add you.¡± Azoria gave her a firm smile.


    ¡°Oh, all right.¡± She fluttered her hands and shifted towards Thane. ¡°Do you need the mental map, too?¡±


    He shook his head, getting his bangs in his eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t, but they might.¡± He motioned at Malia and me.


    Frowning, I folded my arms and squared him up. ¡°All right, fess up.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± He pushed his hair out of his face and put on an innocent look as the goddesses huddled together to share telepathic contacts and Jade¡¯s mind map.


    ¡°You know what.¡± I grunted and jerked my head at Azoria. ¡°What was that all about?¡±


    ¡°Cover, obviously.¡± He gave me a smug smile. With my height advantage, I didn¡¯t think the confidence was justified. As I frowned, his smile wilted a little. ¡°Don¡¯t be sour just because you didn¡¯t figure it out sooner.¡±


    ¡°Cover for what?¡± I growled.


    Malia came over and swatted me on the arm. ¡°Don¡¯t be cross. Azoria and I had a little chat earlier, and she¡¯s here to help.¡± She nodded to Thane. ¡°Run along now, and make sure you keep your Veil up.¡±


    He nodded and stepped back, vanishing from the mortal realm. Although he was still present, only other gods could see him, since the Veil allowed anything divine to move unseen through the earth. Finished with the map acquisition, Azoria pulled on her own Veil and joined Thane as they headed towards the village.


    ¡°You should probably wear your Veils as well,¡± Jade said. She took Hasda¡¯s hand and tugged him after the gods. ¡°Come on! I¡¯ll introduce you to the miners.¡±


    Malia linked her arm with mine and dragged me after them. We walked in silence for a while, listening to the chattering of the birds in the trees. In the coolness of the morning, she was a warm weight next to me, radiating self-satisfaction.


    ¡°You really can¡¯t help yourself, can you?¡± I muttered.


    She smirked. ¡°Surprised?¡±


    ¡°That would be an understatement.¡± I sighed. Shadows from the overhanging branches sliced the sunlight in alternating rays of warmth and coldness as we made our way through the woods. ¡°Are they it? No more hidden schemes for this Trial?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m hurt.¡± She squeezed my elbow, her feathers rustling as she brushed up against me. ¡°Of course there¡¯s more. But I won¡¯t use those unless I have to.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m not even going to ask what ¡®those¡¯ are. I¡¯m just surprised you¡¯re so blatantly flaunting the rules.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Excuse you.¡± She smacked my shoulder, and I rubbed it.


    ¡°That hurt, damn it.¡±


    ¡°You deserve it.¡± She scowled and wagged a finger at me. ¡°And watch your language.¡±


    ¡°Why? Is there a lady around?¡±


    She narrowed her eyes. ¡°You¡¯d better watch it, mister.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± I dipped my head in the direction of the out-of-sight gods. ¡°How can you possibly spin direct divine interference in your favor?¡±


    ¡°Simple.¡± She bared her fangs in a predatory smile. ¡°They¡¯re helping out of the kindness of their own hearts.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that for a second.¡±


    Her snakes flicked their tongues as she shook her head. ¡°You don¡¯t have to, but it is what it is. Thane and Azoria will ensure Hasda succeeds at his Trial, of their own volition, and it will be entirely within the rules.¡±


    Ducking beneath a low-hanging branch, I frowned. ¡°And how do you figure that?¡±


    ¡°Because Azoria drafted the rules of this Trial with that loophole in them.¡± She tucked her wings close as she went under the same branch. ¡°I made sure of it. Divine interference in Trials outside of the hero¡¯s patrons is a long-standing tradition. All Azoria had to do was omit the negative, and now any kind of activity, not just opposition, is perfectly legal in the Trial.¡±


    ¡°And you bribing them to help wouldn¡¯t make it, by proxy, your own assistance?¡± I raised an eyebrow at her. Surely she hadn¡¯t overlooked such a basic safeguard for the spirit of the law.


    She paused. ¡°That¡¯s why I haven¡¯t promised them anything.¡±


    ¡°But you left the inference of aid a viable interpretation.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Even an implied promise could be binding, and if Kydon smells even a hint of your proxy meddling, he¡¯ll have a line of Trials for Hasda to complete lined up in no time.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why we have my second failsafe.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°You.¡± Her eyes sparkled as she said it.


    I stumbled over a tree root. Recovering my balance, I glared at her. ¡°What do you mean, me?¡±


    ¡°You failed to discover this gift, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no way I could have,¡± I spluttered. ¡°It wasn¡¯t here to discover. And I certainly can¡¯t predict what the other gods are going to do.¡±


    ¡°Well, then you have to admit this counts as getting one over on you, right?¡± She batted her eyes at me, and I sorely wished I had her last letter to swat her with. But then the wheels started turning in the back of my mind, and I narrowed my eyes at her.


    ¡°Thane wasn¡¯t as drunk as he made himself out to be.¡±


    ¡°Clever boy.¡± She smiled and pulled me along. We were nearly at the village. ¡°I should thank you for being such a receptive listener. Without your help, I¡¯d never have secured that line of defense.¡± She giggled. ¡°And you were so cute, stomping around trying to figure out what you¡¯d missed.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re an insufferable witch.¡± I couldn¡¯t believe it, but I could. It was always a complicated web of interconnected motivations with Malia. If I could trust her on anything, it was having an ulterior motive for her ulteriors. Smoke and mirrors, sleight of hand, red herrings within a maze of diversions. Sometimes it felt like she was performing the ball and cups trick without the ball. She¡¯d already been switching the cups before I¡¯d even realized the trick had begun.


    Pressure on my arm distracted me from my mental rant. Malia had come to a stop, her face slack. We¡¯d reached the edge of the forest, and Hasda stood tall, a stern look on his face. Next to him, Jade hopped from one foot to the other, looking extremely uncomfortable. Thane and Azoria, still hidden under the Veils, stood on the other side of the lad, arms folded and looking unhappy. No one seemed to be saying anything, so I went first.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°While I appreciate your efforts on my behalf,¡± he said slowly, his eyes on Malia, ¡°this is my Trial, and I must complete it myself.¡±


    ¡°He won¡¯t accept our help,¡± Azoria said, her tone bland. She didn¡¯t look happy about having her aid refused, and I could understand that. No god took rejection lightly.


    ¡°And you explained that it¡¯s well within the rules?¡± Malia said.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said.


    Hasda nodded. ¡°I understand. I appreciate your offer, but I have to do this for myself.¡±


    Good lad.


    I smiled, which only made Malia¡¯s frown deepen.


    ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± she asked, lacing her voice with concern.


    He jerked his head. ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you insist.¡± She sighed and seemed to relent. Of course, she¡¯d probably already started planning a workaround, but she¡¯d save face in front of her champion.


    Azoria nodded her goodbyes and headed into the forest. At the edge of the treeline, she paused and said, ¡°Our agreement still holds? I can¡¯t help that¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, you fulfilled your obligations,¡± Malia said, waving her away.


    She nodded and vanished through a bright green portal that manifested for just a blink.


    I frowned at Thane. ¡°Why are you still here?¡±


    ¡°Gee, Pops, I wonder why? It¡¯s not like there¡¯s some serious game to bag in those mountain caves or anything.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°I should take that Scythe off you. Of all the gods who¡¯ve held that office, you have to be the most flippant God of Death I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    He shrugged and rocked back on his heels, his thumbs hooked through his belt.


    ¡°Well, with that out of the way,¡± Malia said. Flinching, she jerked her Veil on, disappearing as the villagers approached the forest. I hadn¡¯t been wearing my Veil, either, and didn¡¯t react fast enough, but since I¡¯d already been spotted by the trio of warriors I¡¯d met the other day, I sighed and left myself visible. Hasda brought himself up proudly, brandishing his armor as he waited for Jade to make her introductions.


    ¡°Do you think they saw me?¡± Malia whispered.


    I sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know. What does it matter? They can¡¯t see you now.¡±


    She said nothing, just took on a brooding, sulky look.


    Jade made her introductions, singing Hasda¡¯s praises as a powerful shaman, chosen by the gods to rid them of the fearsome tiger. Hasda shook hands with the warriors, who accepted him cordially enough. They cast a few glances my way and nodded in acknowledgement, but they didn¡¯t relax until I reluctantly pulled on my Veil. I hadn¡¯t wanted to spook them, vanishing suddenly, but they seemed to have expected it and looked far more at ease once I was ¡°gone.¡±


    I sighed. It made no sense why they could so easily accept Hasda and not me, when we both supposedly came from the forest. But at least they¡¯d taken him in, and as they walked into the village, Hasda between the trio and Jade, I couldn¡¯t help feel a stab of pride at how well my boy had turned out. He looked and acted like a proper hero. Now to see if he could accomplish the feats of a hero, too. I grunted. He¡¯d be fine. I had raised him, after all.

 Chapter 20: "The Tiger"

    It turned out that he was not, in fact, fine.


    Not that he went in and was immediately slaughtered. I watched with Malia from the safety of our Veil as he trudged into the mine, and we kept mental tabs on his location across our map of the mines, since we couldn¡¯t enter the mines directly without risking our presence being labeled ¡°direct interference.¡± But the first day he spent walking up and down the shafts, especially the ones the miners had recently reopened in the hopes that the tiger would be drawn to them, and their shaman could kill it quickly. But the tiger was wary, smart, or just not hungry, and refused to show itself.


    By the second day, Hasda still hadn¡¯t found the tiger, and the miners were starting to get antsy because it had attacked them at least once every day. Since Hasda had entered the mines, it hadn¡¯t shown up once. Kydonian tigers liked to eat, and unless there were some unknown cave dwellers it was subsisting off to avoid the humans¡¯ new defender, it was beginning to starve itself.


    The third day rolled around, over, and through to evening, and still no sign of the tiger. Hasda did, however, find a fragment of a claw outside a tunnel the tiger had collapsed scratching the support beams. The miners seemed accustomed to these collapses and had a healthy chunk of the debris cleared away by nightfall.


    And then the fourth day happened.


    We had the map projected in the air before us, the glowing yellow dot that represented Hasda the only and in the ant farm. Jade had decided to join us today, since Hasda was by now comfortable with the villagers and familiar enough with the mines not to need her guidance. Suddenly, a brick red dot appeared on the map and collided with Hasda¡¯s marker. The dots orbited around each other in a chaotic pattern, bouncing off the tunnel boundaries at insane speeds. Jade gasped, Malia hissed, and I ground my knuckles.


    Hasda would be fine. He didn¡¯t need our help, he was perfectly capable of handling himself. I¡¯d raised him, I¡¯d given him my blessing, and I¡¯d armed him. He¡¯d be fine. He would. Of course telling myself all that over and over only carried me so far, and I sorely wanted to go tearing in after him to slay the beast myself. But this was his trial. He would be fine. He would.


    After what felt like far too long a moment, the red dot winked out and Hasda¡¯s yellow dot slowly wobbled its way out of the mines. Malia snarled something under her breath and sank her hands into the ether, swirling around in the dimensions beyond to extricate rolls of dark leather. Jade hurried forward to greet Hasda as he exited, Malia and I forced to wait behind the Veil until he was a safe distance away from the entrance.


    To say the lad needed a bath would be an understatement. He looked like he¡¯d been dragged through the mud, repeatedly, by his ankles and, based on the behavior of the dots, that might not have been far from the truth. His tunic was in tattered shambles, the leather padding on the outsides of his bracers and greaves shredded like fronds of seaweed. His hair curled off in a dozen different directions, crushed pebbles peppering the clumps of mud stuck to his scalp. He sagged like he¡¯d just run a marathon up and down the mountain, but his eyes were vibrant.


    Jade led him into one of the larger huts, which the villagers had lent him for the duration of his Trial. Malia and I followed and, once inside, shrugged off the Veil. Malia handed him the bolts of leather and said, ¡°These are replacements for the ones you damaged today.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Hasda smiled and set the leather on his cot. Leaning forward, he extricated his legs from the shredded padding and set to work undoing the straps of the greaves.


    ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡± I asked, folding my arms and trying not to glare at Malia.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°He seemed nice.¡± Hasda kicked off the right greave and started on the left. ¡°Mostly hungry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing you had those pads to protect you,¡± I said. Next to me, Malia puffed herself up with pride.


    ¡°Yeah. If I didn¡¯t have those, I wouldn¡¯t have had anything to feed him.¡± He laughed. ¡°But he wouldn¡¯t just let me give him the leather, he wanted to work for it. He¡¯s a lot better at wrestling than I thought he¡¯d be.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°He what?¡± As I looked closer at the mutilated leather Hasda was removing, I could see that the tears looked more like bite marks than claw gouges. That would explain why the armor was slightly dimpled instead of scored or shredded itself.


    ¡°And how, exactly, did you figure out the tiger¡¯s intentions?¡± Malia said, her snakes shivering and flicking their tongues as she folded her arms. ¡°Did it just roll over to expose its belly and ask to play?¡± Though her tone was sharp, she sounded just as worried as I felt. While it was a relief that Hasda had escaped his first encounter unharmed, it was doubly concerning how odd this animal was behaving. First it isolated itself in the mines, then it fasted, and then it went after the leather padding instead of the fresh meat beneath the armor and decided to play to pay for its meal.


    ¡°I spoke to it.¡± Hasda gave us a look of pure innocence as we stared at him, open-mouthed. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You spoke to it?¡± Malia echoed.


    ¡°Yes.¡± His brow furrowed. ¡°Is that so strange?¡±


    ¡°Well, normally animals don¡¯t talk,¡± Jade said, fingers fluttering nervously. ¡°But some do. Magical beasts, anyways. Usually it¡¯s just telepathic, although some go to the effort of using their magic to speak out loud. But not Kydonian tigers, and not to humans. Getting them to mindspeak with gods would be challenging enough, if they weren¡¯t so reclusive. Of course, that¡¯s just what others have told me, this is my first time seeing one in real life, and I was too scared to try talking to it myself. Especially after it started eating my villagers and hid in the mines.¡±


    ¡°You just...talked to it,¡± Malia said, shaking her head. Stiffening, her gaze snapped to my face. ¡°How long have you known he could do this?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡±


    In all honesty, I hadn¡¯t. But if he could talk to animals, he¡¯d had ample time to practice during his hunting trips in the forest. And how would he have known being a nature whisperer was unusual? He¡¯d grown up by himself, with a cranky old god for a father who talked to birds because he felt like it. Trips to the closest village were rare, playtime with other children even rarer. I scoured my memory, searching for any signs of Hasda showing hints of this ability, but my fractured mind showed nothing more than Hasda imitating me, speaking to the birds or rabbits or deer as if they were friends. It all looked like normal kid behavior, inventing companions when there weren¡¯t any.


    But if he could talk to any animal, which seemed likely if he actually talked to the Kydonian tiger, then that was a far, far bigger deal than just being a gifted human. No one ever became a Beast Whisperer by accident. Usually, but not always, a Beast Whisperer started with some innate ability to talk to animals, and then a god would imbue them with divine power, like through a Blessi¡ª


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°I saw those gears turning. Spit it out.¡±


    ¡°Hasda,¡± I said.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Metal clanked as he dropped a bracer on top of the greaves.


    ¡°When you were little, you used to talk to the fish, and the birds, and the squirrels.¡± I winced at how childish that sounded. ¡°Did they ever, er, talk back?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± He frowned, both at me and the leather entangling the final bracer on his right arm. ¡°You did, too.¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, but I¡¯m a god, and you¡¯re just human.¡± I sighed. ¡°Or rather, ¡®were¡¯ just human.¡±


    Malia¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Jade said, leaning around me to look between us. ¡°I¡¯m a little confused. What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Malia pinched the bridge of her nose and gestured towards Hasda with her free hand. ¡°He was born a nature whisperer, and he¡ª¡± she flicked her hand at me ¡°¡ªblessed him.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Jade blinked. ¡°So...what does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means that Hasda can talk to any animal.¡± I rolled the words around my mouth. They felt weird and out of place.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good!¡± Jade smiled and clapped her hands. ¡°So he can just ask the tiger to leave.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he wants to leave,¡± Hasda said. Grunting, he strained at the mess of shredded leather and finally tore it free. The last bracer came off a moment later. ¡°I can ask him, but I doubt he¡¯ll go. He likes the mines.¡±


    ¡°Something is seriously wrong with that tiger,¡± Malia said, frowning. ¡°What color was its fur?¡±


    ¡°Yellow as piss, and its stripes were bright green and all crooked.¡± Hasda shook his head. ¡°I think it¡¯s sick.¡±


    ¡°It might be.¡± I rolled my shoulders to get the stiffness out. ¡°Well, tomorrow, ask the tiger if it will leave, and if not, feed it the leathers if it still wants them and then get out. Pay attention to its coat. Look for any spots, flaking fur, or dried blood, and we¡¯ll see if we can figure out what¡¯s wrong with it.¡±

 Chapter 21: "The Tussle"

    Watching the map the next day was a harrowing experience. Malia kept frowning at it, huffing, and drumming her fingers on her arms. Jade had stayed with us through the morning, pacing back and forth and running her mouth a mile a minute until Malia snapped at her. The goddess had blanched and immediately shifted into her lamia form, her legs vanishing in a twist of scales as she took on the lower body of a snake, and slithered off after muttering a legion of apologies.


    I frowned at Malia but said nothing. While it made sense why Malia was frustrated¡ªunder less serious circumstances I¡¯d have told Jade off hours ago¡ªshe could have, at least, held her tongue or dulled its edge. Jade was young and far less sure of herself than we were. From how antsy she¡¯d been, this was probably her first major disaster as goddess of her people, and to have it elevated to immortality by being Hasda¡¯s first Task probably didn¡¯t help her nerves any. Add to that her general awkwardness and dubious status among the Carthian pantheon as a debatable outsider, and it was a recipe for emotional disaster.


    Malia let out a frustrated sigh and glared at me. ¡°What?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    Hasda¡¯s yellow dot wended its way deep into the mines on the map before us. Still no sign of the tiger thus far.


    ¡°It¡¯s not nothing,¡± she said, rolling her eyes. ¡°You couldn¡¯t be more transparent if you painted your visage across the heavens. Was it what I said to Jade?¡±


    I grunted. ¡°You could have handled that better.¡±


    ¡°Oh really?¡± She huffed. ¡°And I suppose you¡¯d have me swaddling her soiled ass, too?¡±


    ¡°At the very least,¡± I said, scowling at her, ¡°you could have refrained from insulting her heritage. Lamia is a respectable race, and fully serpentine.¡±


    ¡°Please. Worms are better candidates for close relations than that.¡±


    I arched a brow. ¡°Would it kill you to think about how young and insecure she is?¡± I wagged my finger when she rolled her eyes. ¡°You pissed yourself your first battle  and nearly lost your entire troop because you were so terrified of making a mistake. You didn¡¯t get this cocky until you put a solid three centuries of experience under your belt.¡±


    ¡°Like you¡¯re one to talk,¡± she said. ¡°They still have that old scabbard in a museum, you know.¡±


    Blasted woman. I¡¯d been so skittish my inaugural campaign as the God of War that I¡¯d gone into battle without my Sword. ¡°Malia.¡±


    She uncrossed her arms, then recrossed them and went back to beating a rhythm with her fingertips. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll consider giving her a suitably detached apology later. But I won¡¯t be opening any doors for her advancement because of it.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Whatever snarky remark she had lined up died on the tip of her tongue because the tiger¡¯s red dot blazed to life on the map. It rounded the bend ahead of Hasda and approached him, stopping an inch away on the map, so probably several feet away in the mines. Enough that it would rest on the edge of Hasda¡¯s vision, given his lamp, not close enough to attack him but close enough to engage. The markers hovered that way for a while, until suddenly the tiger darted forward.


    For the longest time, the two dots were stacked so close together that it appeared as one single, orange circle on the map, bouncing chaotically into the walls of the tunnel. An eternity later, the dots finally separated, the tiger streaking off into the darkness and Hasda wobbling back towards the entrance. From the erratic path his marker traced along the mines, we knew this encounter must have gone much worse than the last.


    I didn¡¯t even try to keep Malia from racing to the entrance because I beat her there. If Kydon wanted to protest, let him. I¡¯d take any of his lecturing under consideration and tell him to piss off because I wasn¡¯t about to let Hasda die over arbitrary limitations. The boy could always complete another Trial, but not if he died. I took the fact that Thane hadn¡¯t materialized next to us as a good sign. Hasda might be injured, but he wasn¡¯t on death¡¯s doorstep, at least.


    When he appeared at the mouth of the mine, however, he looked bad enough to challenge that assessment. Blood covered him from his head to his waist, his chestplate peeled off from a wide, diagonal gash in the armor. It was hard to tell how deep the cut was on Hasda because of all the mud and dirt caked onto him. He listed as he staggered out of the mines, his head lolling to the side as he barely kept his feet.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    The air crackled as Malia and I cast off our Veils, blinking into the mortal plane. Malia shrouded Hasda beneath her wings as she wrapped her arms around him, catching him before he fell. While she held him, I set about extricating him from his armor. His leathers were in tatters, thin strips the only remainders. His greaves and bracers had been deeply scored, and I found not a few scrapes from where the tiger¡¯s claws had made it through the armor. At least they weren¡¯t deep, and when I wiped the blood away his skin showed blotching from toxins or infections.


    His chest was another matter. The tiger¡¯s claws had sheared through the plate and cut deep into muscle and bone. Several ribs showed nasty, V-shaped gouges, but thankfully none of the slashes had gone all the way through. His breathing was labored, but it didn¡¯t sound like he had any fluids in his lungs. I ripped the last of the armor off him and unstrapped his helmet, brushing my face with the bloody plumage as I tossed it behind me.


    Malia set him gently on the ground and frowned down at him. ¡°How mortal is he?¡± she asked without looking at me.


    ¡°Very.¡± I failed to keep the warble from my voice. ¡°He¡¯s not going to be in fighting condition for months, assuming no infections from the wounds.¡± I knelt beside him and dabbed at the cut with a damp cloth. He flinched and mumbled something incoherent, his eyes rolling sightlessly across the sky overhead. I frowned. At least he wasn¡¯t delirious. That was never a good sign. ¡°If we¡¯re scrapping this Trial, I can accelerate his healing, although he¡¯ll be a little sore for the next one.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°It hasn¡¯t even been a week yet.¡±


    ¡°Malia.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Her eyes were as hard as her voice. Her snakes mirrored her frustration, writhing and hissing at each other. ¡°It¡¯s too soon to abandon this Trial. I¡¯ll call in some favors, get another deity to heal him.¡±


    ¡°If I heal him, we can invalidate this Trial and have a fresh start with the next.¡± I squared off against her gaze and folded my arms. ¡°At least that way his first Trial goes down as null and void, instead of a failure.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s all the fuss about?¡±


    We both jumped at the voice. Thane strolled around from behind Malia¡¯s wing, peering down at the semi-conscious Hasda. ¡°Ooh, that looks bad. Is it recent?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I glowered at him and tightened my crossed arms. ¡°He won¡¯t be dying today. His injuries aren¡¯t that bad, and I¡¯d drag him back from near death if they were.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hush, I¡¯m not here to collect his soul.¡±


    I arched a brow. ¡°Then why are you here?¡±


    ¡°A gift.¡± He manifested a silver flagon, shaped like a teardrop and fluted at the top, and brandished it over Hasda. ¡°To aid him on his way.¡±


    I jerked forward and grabbed his hand, stopping him before he could pour the unknown contents all over the lad. ¡°Since when can you provide healing? You¡¯re the God of Death, not the Apothecary.¡±


    ¡°And you,¡± he said, extricating himself from my grip, ¡°are the God of Crabby Old Men, suspicious of aging carried on the breeze. I swear by the severity of my Office that I mean the boy no ill intent and act only in good faith to heal him.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®why?¡¯¡± He scowled. ¡°You¡¯d look a gift horse in the mouth?¡±


    ¡°Why are you bringing the gift horse in the first place?¡± I shifted my gaze to Malia. I hadn¡¯t felt her send any telepathic messages, but then, you never knew with her. ¡°Is this your doing?¡±


    Folding her arms, she pursed her lips and looked away.


    ¡°Malia!¡± I growled in frustration. ¡°Proxy help is still help. You protest throwing in the towel already yet immediately follow up by risking the validity of this Trial.¡±


    ¡°Consider this my gift, freely given, with no caveats, conditions, or hidden clauses.¡± He clapped his hands together, crushing the flagon between them. Dark liquid, odorless and opaque, dripped in a long, viscous drop from Thane¡¯s fingers onto Hasda¡¯s wound. The liquid steamed and hissed as it seeped into his bones. Sounds like snapping twigs popped across his chest, and his skin rippled in violent waves as it reknit itself together. Hasda yelped, arched his back, and then collapsed into unconsciousness, breathing heavily.


    Thane dusted his hands over Hasda. Smiling, he flourished his hand and presented me with the ring from the fluted end of the flagon, all that remained of the vessel. ¡°A token of my sincerity.¡± After depositing it in my hand, he snapped his portal open and backed through it, bowing as he went.


    I scowled at Malia. On the ground, Hasda snored softly between us.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that look,¡± she said, turning away. ¡°I gave up a good debt for that.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°That¡¯s it? That¡¯s all you have to say?¡±


    ¡°What else do you want?¡± Her back to me, she flared her wings as she slithered away from us. ¡°Hasda¡¯s healed, within the bounds of his Trial. I gave up my claim to Thane¡¯s debt and didn¡¯t protest being arguably put into his. You should be applauding me.¡±


    ¡°For being so flippant?¡±


    She glared back at me over her shoulder. ¡°Mortals are replaceable, Charax. I know it breaks your heart whenever you lose one, but you always seem to forget the fact that, in the end, they always die.¡±


    I rocked back as if slapped. In her defense, this wasn¡¯t a new argument for us, but it had been a long time since we¡¯d last had it. While she was right, she was still an ass. ¡°I thought the whole point of these Trials was to put him on the path of immortality.¡±


    ¡°The whole point,¡± she said, rolling her eyes, ¡°was to qualify him for a dangerous position in which he would imperil his life daily while leading my armies on endless slaughter. What part of that told you he would live forever?¡± She shook her head in disgust. ¡°Carry him back to his hut, would you? He needs his rest, and I need to check out the mountain pass. Something¡¯s giving me a bad feeling.¡± And with that, she fluttered her wings and hurried off up the mountain path.


    I sighed and cradled Hasda in my arms as I carried him back to his abode. Malia was right. He was questing to prove himself a hero capable of leading a goddess¡¯ host. That wouldn¡¯t guarantee him a shot at immortality...but it could raise him to demigod status, and demigods could make the transition, given the right circumstances. Worshippers, sacrifices, temples consecrated in their name, on the rare occasion made deity fiat for significant feats. And they could handle ambrosia which, while not the Fruit of Eternal Life, went a long way to extending natural life and granting an affinity for the divine.


    As I tucked Hasda into his sleeping mat, I felt my determination rising. Champion or no, I would find a way to use these Trials to push him closer to godhood. I wouldn¡¯t always be able to intervene and protect him, and if he could weather mortal perils on his own, all the better. But the best thing would be for him not to have death hanging over his head, metaphorically speaking. While I couldn¡¯t keep Thane from collecting, I could put Hasda out of reach by getting him Ascended. All I had to do was figure out how.

 Chapter 22: "The Recovery"

    The next day, Hasda awoke groggy, sore, and in surprisingly good spirits. Looking not at all put out by yesterday¡¯s disaster, he sat up and stretched and began strapping on his armor.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Malia?¡± he asked as he wiggled on a greave.


    I frowned. ¡°She went up into the mountains to investigate the pass. Something felt off to her, she said, and she hasn¡¯t been back since.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Well, that¡¯s okay. You¡¯re still here.¡± His smile faded as he patted his chest. ¡°This scar is new.¡±


    ¡°It is.¡± I kept my voice even.


    His eyebrows quirked down and he gave me a confused look. ¡°I mean too new. It shouldn¡¯t have healed that quickly.¡±


    ¡°You had...a healer.¡± I clenched my jaw and turned away.


    ¡°Hey. What happened?¡± He stood up, accidentally knocking the other greave on the floor. It clattered into the bracers and split chestplate. ¡°Oh, wow. That looks a lot worse than I thought.¡±


    ¡°You looked a lot worse than that when you came out,¡± I said, half-growling.


    ¡°Who healed me?¡±


    ¡°Thane did.¡±


    Hasda gave me a strange look. ¡°Then why are you so unhappy? I thought you liked him, especially since he was your old apprentice.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Normally, yes. But Malia called in, and then gave up, a favor to do so, which could jeopardize the legality of this Trial. While you didn¡¯t die, you got yourself severely injured, and I don¡¯t have any spare leathers to replace the ones Malia gave you.¡± I shook my head. ¡°If there are any more, Malia has them, and she¡¯s not here.¡±


    ¡°Well, they were helpful while they lasted, but I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll work anymore.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I arched a brow.


    He nodded. Sitting down, he folded his legs onto his sleeping mat and rested his hands on his knees. ¡°Last time, he ate them, but this time he just attacked. He was really offended when I asked if he¡¯d want to leave the mines, and he said he wasn¡¯t going to stop feeding on the miners, because what else could he eat? But he doesn¡¯t want to leave the mines.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s extremely atypical for Kydonian tigers,¡± I said.¡±


    ¡°I know. He¡¯s definitely sick.¡± He curled and uncurled his fingers around the tops of his greaves, giving the metal a thoughtful look. ¡°I didn¡¯t see any patches of missing fur, but his coat doesn¡¯t shine and the air swims with his hair. He¡¯s losing far too much for a normal shed, and he breathes like his nose is stuffed with dirt.¡±


    ¡°Any other signs of weakness?¡±


    Hasda nodded. ¡°Sometimes his legs will shake, but he¡¯s still ridiculously strong.¡±


    ¡°Well, you now officially have more experience with Kydonian tigers than I do.¡± I sighed. ¡°Malia might know something of what¡¯s plaguing it, but alas, if only she were here to consult.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be back soon.¡± He smiled as he picked up a bracer to strap on. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t just vanish if it weren¡¯t important.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°Yes, but important to whom? You give her far too much credit. I wouldn¡¯t put it past her to prioritize handling some scheme gone awry over staying to advise you.¡±


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°You sure that¡¯s not just her coping mechanism? Like how yours is glowering at everything and threatening to burn everyone to ash with your incinerating gaze¡± Eyebrows arched, he blinked up at me in his awful attempt at feigned innocence.


    That was a valid point, but at my age I was allowed to be cranky and not concede it. I grunted noncommittally and jerked my head towards the ruined chestplate. ¡°You planning on wearing that into the mines?¡±


    ¡°Actually, I was thinking of going up the mountain pass after Malia.¡± He picked up the last bracer and fiddled with the straps.


    I arched a brow at him. ¡°Oh? She¡¯s off investigating who knows what, but whatever it is has enough power to unsettle her, and your gut instinct is to join her?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not exactly in the best shape. I know you healed me, or Thane did, but I don¡¯t feel ready to face the tiger right now. Perhaps tomorrow, after I¡¯ve rested a bit. Plus,¡± he said, pushing to his feet, ¡°I have a couple ideas on how to get the tiger out of the mines. Come on. We can discuss them on the way up.¡± He smiled and strode out of the hut.


    I frowned at his back, then down at the chestplate with the ugly gash. Although it hadn¡¯t done Hasda much good, I still needed to get it repaired. Maybe it¡¯d serve a purpose in the next Trial, but even in this one, I¡¯d feel better with it on him. Sighing, I followed him out of the hut. Fixing the armor could wait.


    As we made our way up the grassy path, Hasda detailed his various solutions to the tiger problem, which amounted to a grand total of two. The first one gave me chills from its Malia vibes¡ªfeeding goats bathed in sedatives to the tiger¡ªand she¡¯d be pleased to know her ready-mades would be put to use. But the second one was far more ambitious and genuinely impressed me with its ingenuity.


    ¡°You want to make the tiger a god?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Maybe not a full god, but at least a sacred animal?¡± He held up a hand and ticked off on his fingers. ¡°It¡¯s already semi-divine, the villagers fear it if not revere it, and they could bring it livestock and other offerings in exchange for safe passage and guarding in the mines.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t keep the proud grin off my face, and hoped he wouldn¡¯t take it as mocking with what I was about to say. ¡°Not to dismiss your idea, but how would that satisfy the requirements of your Trial?¡±


    ¡°The reason I have to remove the tiger is it doesn¡¯t belong, right?¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, puzzling through his train of thought. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Well, then, if the miners start worshipping it as a guardian spirit, then it¡¯s not the marauding tiger anymore but their local mine spirit. And I wasn¡¯t sent here to interfere with local customs.¡±


    Honestly, I was impressed. And Seppo would absolutely adore the logic. If he could pull it off, it might far exceed the pantheon¡¯s expectations for his first Trial, which would give him a huge boost going into the next one. But best to temper his objective against reality. ¡°While I agree that would, metaphorically speaking, ¡®remove¡¯ the tiger, I think you should try the literal interpretation first.¡±


    He nodded as we rounded a fallen boulder obstructing the path. ¡°Of course. Getting the tiger dedicated worship sounds like a lot more work than trying to drag it out of the mines.¡±


    ¡°That it does.¡± I laughed. ¡°One other thing to be mindful of, if you decide to go down the deity route, is you¡¯ll need to tie the tiger to Jade somehow. Since she¡¯s already the local goddess, you¡¯ll create a power schism between them if you don¡¯t associate the two.¡± I paused, and chose my wording carefully. ¡°My advice would be to treat Jade as the Goddess of the Mines, and the tiger as the Guardian of the Miners. That way, their domains are tangential but non-overlapping.¡±


    Hasda inclined his head. ¡°Thank you for your advice.¡±


    We made our way up the rest of the path in relative silence, enjoying the chittering of the mountain sparrows and chickadees. The trees thinned as we neared the top, although the woods remained populated enough to provide those annoying false paths that meandered into confusion and a loss of direction. Our path was well-worn enough and clearly marked, most likely by the goatherds who tended the few domesticated animals the village owned. The head of the path, which crested the edge of the mountain, had been cleared, opening up onto a wonderful view of the forest beyond the pass. Malia stood at the edge of the trail, back to us, her arms folded and her snakes irritated.


    ¡°Everything okay?¡± I called as we approached.


    She flicked her wings in annoyance and kept her gaze on the woods below. ¡°Are you really that dense, or are you just getting old?¡±


    I frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    She glanced back at me and rolled her eyes. ¡°Can¡¯t you feel that power?¡± She flicked her hand down the mountainside.


    Hasda glanced between us, his face concerned. ¡°Don¡¯t be mad at him. He hasn¡¯t gotten out much lately.¡±


    Shaking her head, she barked a laugh and turned to face us. ¡°I know. I¡¯m just giving him a hard time because he¡¯s such a crusty old salt, he wouldn¡¯t be able to hear his bones grate if they weren¡¯t vibrating through his whole body.¡± Though she kept her tone light, I could see the way her eyes pinched.


    ¡°What am I missing?¡± I said, voice serious.


    She pursed her lips. ¡°If you can¡¯t feel it, use your battle experience and tell me what you see.¡±


    It looked like a normal forest to me. Lots of deciduous trees, like maples, oaks, and birches, with smatterings of conifers sticking out like green burs. A light haze hung over the forest as the morning sunlight burned the mist away¡­


    Oh.


    The morning mist should be long gone by now. It was late morning, the sun skirting the edge of its zenith. Whatever was clouding the air certainly wasn¡¯t water, although it wasn¡¯t gray enough to be proper smoke. Perhaps trappers had a campfire going, perhaps not. The itch on the back of my neck told me some kind of sorcery was at work. Since whoever was out there was on the nomads¡¯ side of the mountains, that meant unknown magic, and maybe foreign gods. Not a good thing to have wandering around on your backside, especially since they¡¯d vanished after the miners had settled and integrated into Carthian society.


    Malia nodded as she saw my eyes light up. ¡°Right. Alien god.¡±


    The corners of my lips dipped in a frown. ¡°How bad?¡±


    ¡°More powerful than Jade, though that¡¯s not saying much.¡± She shook her head, fangs bared. ¡°Stronger than me? I doubt it, but¡­¡±


    When she didn¡¯t continue, Hasda piped up. ¡°But what?¡±


    I grunted. ¡°What she isn¡¯t saying is, it would be a close fight.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of Jade, let¡¯s go find her.¡± Malia slithered back down the mountain, a scowl on her face. ¡°I have a few questions she needs to answer.¡±

 Chapter 23: "The Confrontation"

    Of course, because it was Malia, we couldn¡¯t just have a direct confrontation. Malia wanted to wait in Hasda¡¯s hut for Jade to come around and ask why he wasn¡¯t going into the mines today. Unfortunately for clever Malia, Jade beat her to the punch and was already waiting in the hut when we got back.


    The goddess was wearing a simple, sky blue dress and had coiled her dark hair on top of her head. She had her human legs on today, and in her hands she held a pot of steaming soup. ¡°Oh! Hasda. You¡¯re up and about. When I heard how badly you¡¯d been injured, I thought you would be bedridden for weeks.¡± She gave him a shy smile. ¡°I made you some soup that I hoped would help you recover. But it looks like you¡¯re already all better. Heroes must have far stronger constitutions than I realized.¡±


    ¡°Indeed they do,¡± Malia said. Her eyes were hard and locked on Jade¡¯s face with an intensity that made me pity the young goddess. ¡°I went up the mountain pass today.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s...nice.¡± Jade dropped her gaze and shifted uncomfortably. ¡°The view is very nice. Did you like it?¡±


    ¡°I did.¡± Malia¡¯s voice had a razor¡¯s edge to it. Jade flinched, and Malia smiled in an unpleasant, predatory way. ¡°Care to chat about what I saw?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure the trees were very pretty.¡± She wouldn¡¯t meet Malia¡¯s eyes and kept shifting her weight from foot to foot. ¡°Sometimes herons pass overhead, and they¡¯re very lovely.¡±


    Hasda leaned over to me. ¡°Why doesn¡¯t she just tell her about the foreign gods?¡± he whispered.


    ¡°Because it lacks tact and is less fun that way,¡± Malia said, her snakes twisting in Hasda¡¯s direction. ¡°Also, you need to work on your volume control, Hasda.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you leave that pot here,¡± Malia said, her grin feral, ¡°and we can go outside and have ourselves a private chat, away from prying ears?¡±


    Jade paled and gulped. ¡°All right.¡± As she bent over to set the dish down, she yelped and stumbled, her ankle giving out from under her.


    Malia was on her in a flash. Wings flared like a hawk, she gripped the trembling goddess by the shoulders and snarled, baring her fangs. ¡°How long?¡± she said, shaking the lamia. ¡°How long have you known?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Jade whispered, shrinking and curling in on herself.


    Malia snarled and shook the girl harder. ¡°Answer me! How long?¡±


    ¡°Since the tiger came!¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s out there?¡± Malia¡¯s eyes bored into the terrified goddess. The only reason Jade wasn¡¯t cowering on the floor was Malia¡¯s iron grip on her arms.


    ¡°A...an Apkalla,¡± Jade stammered, her eyes darting everywhere around the room but Malia¡¯s face. She squirmed, trying to wriggle free, but Malia tightened her grip.


    I frowned. ¡°I know that name.¡±


    Malia jerked her head. ¡°Paeden pantheon, the seven sages who serve the gods.¡±


    ¡°Who serve Marudak, the chief god,¡± Jade corrected.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Malia hissed at her. ¡°So you knew that servants of an enemy pantheon were traipsing around the edge of your territory, and you didn¡¯t think to warn us?¡±


    Jade winced as Malia tightened her grip. ¡°I thought I could defend myself from them, now that I''m with a stronger pantheon.¡±


    ¡°Our pantheon might be stronger than yours. You are not stronger than yours.¡±


    ¡°But that''s not my pantheon anymore.¡±


    ¡°Semantics.¡±


    ¡°Enough.¡± I pulled Malia off Jade, who collapsed in a sobbing puddle on Hasda¡¯s mat. Countering Malia¡¯s incensed glare with a scowl of my own, I stepped between them and pushed Malia towards the door. ¡°What¡¯s done is done.¡±


    Huffing, Malia spun and stormed out of the hut.


    Hasda gave me a questioning look.


    ¡°Stay here with her.¡± I jerked my head at Jade. ¡°I¡¯ll go talk to Malia.¡±


    I found her in the southern forest, down from the village. Several trees stood stripped of their bark, another handful with jagged trunks from being forcefully felled. Malia stood in a ring of blasted vegetation, her tail coiled under herself and the tip beating clouds of dust into the air.


    ¡°Hey.¡± I came up behind her, staying just out of range of her wings.


    She rustled her feathers and kept her back to me, her arms folded. ¡°Idiot goddess.¡±


    ¡°Not everyone is perfect like you.¡± I ducked around her agitated wing and stood beside her.


    Oh.


    In front of her lay a swath of death, destruction, and petrification. She must¡¯ve vented some of her frustration by opening her gaze. While unfortunate, the forest would recover in a year or so, and maybe in a decade the blight would be gone.


    Malia shook her head, her snakes hissing as they swayed. ¡°She was a minor goddess in the Paeden pantheon and she¡¯s not much better, or more powerful, here. I don¡¯t know why she got it in her head that she¡¯d be able to take one of Marudak¡¯s servants by herself.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps she wanted to show them she really did mean to leave.¡± I folded my arms and settled in next to Malia, our shoulders touching. ¡°Maybe standing up for herself was the only way they would take her departure seriously. And you have to give her credit for not folding and immediately returning to her old pantheon. Switching sides is hard.¡±


    ¡°Bah.¡± Malia bared her fangs. ¡°She¡¯s hiding things from us. More than just the presence of this Apkalla.¡±


    ¡°Like you never hide things?¡± I smiled at her.


    She rolled her eyes. ¡°You know I¡¯m not always unusually cruel just for kicks and giggles. That ankle of hers? It gave out because she got herself injured fighting something way over her power grade.¡± She shook her head, her face smeared with disgust. ¡°And she¡¯ll suffer serious long-term injury if she doesn¡¯t get it healed in Nebesa. Now that we know about the Apkalla, she¡¯d be a fool not to seek healing.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll want to stay, though, so long as the Trial hasn¡¯t been concluded. It would dishonor her to abandon her people and leave a foreigner to fight her battles for her.¡± I held up a finger to Malia¡¯s protest. ¡°Plus, she¡¯ll need to be here if Hasda has to do his second plan.¡±


    ¡°Which is?¡±


    I explained his idea to make the Kydonian tiger Jade¡¯s divine counterpart or sacred beast, whichever ended up playing out. Malia listened with pursed lips, her fingers tapping on her arm. When I finished, she shook her arms and flicked her wings.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a bit...drastic.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°It is. He is going to try drugging it and dragging it out first, which I thought you would enjoy.¡±


    She gave me a flat smile. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know, he did think of that himself. The goats having tranquilizers soaked into their fur was entirely coincidental, if convenient.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°He really is a bright lad.¡±


    Malia tilted her head and tapped her cheek. ¡°My only concern with the tranquilizer plan is that I¡¯m fairly confident the Paedens are the ones behind the tiger.¡±


    I arched a brow. ¡°You think they cursed it?¡±


    ¡°Maybe not cursed,¡± she said, frowning, ¡°but they definitely did something to it. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they planted it in the mines to undermine Jade¡¯s position, both as an attack and an attempt to get her back.¡±


    ¡°You think she¡¯s that important to them?¡±


    ¡°No, I think they¡¯re that petty.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°So we need to be careful what we mix with whatever enchantments they¡¯ve put on it.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± She sighed and relaxed against me. Overhead, the birds flitted back to the tree branches they¡¯d fled during Malia¡¯s rampage, chirruping as they flew about. The wind kicked up, rustling leaves and grass. I wrapped my arm around her as she nestled close. ¡°Refresh my memory,¡± she mumbled. ¡°Hasda¡¯s trial exclusively involves dealing with the tiger, correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I hugged her close. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Good. That means, even if the Paedens were involved in planting it, I¡¯m free to go stomp some invaders and work some things out of my system.¡± She grinned up at me, her eyes sparkling.


    I booped her nose. ¡°You mean ¡®we.¡¯ I¡¯m not going to let you run off and face an Apkalla by yourself, you know.¡±


    ¡°You need to keep an eye on Hasda when he drugs the tiger to make sure there aren¡¯t any negative magical reactions.¡± She smiled. ¡°Besides, I need crabby old Charax to go be cranky at Jade until she gets her foot looked at. She won¡¯t listen to me, of course, not after this morning. But I think she¡¯ll respect your advice.¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm.¡± I gave her a look. ¡°And what are you planning on cooking up while I¡¯m distracted?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± she said, but her tone and laugh betrayed her. She ran a finger down my chest. ¡°We have some time before I announce myself to the nomads. Any ideas?¡±


    I chuckled. Oh yes. Lots of lovely ideas. And we¡¯d take our time, too. No need to rush the Paedens¡¯ destruction. Malia and I would be nice and relaxed by the time we went to confront the invaders. And when we were ready, gods have mercy on our enemies.

 Chapter 24: "The Announcement"

    Malia waited for me at the head of the path up the mountain while I convinced Jade to return to Nebesa. The lamia wasn¡¯t happy about it, but when I told her she could go herself, or I could drag her to the healers by her tail and didn¡¯t give two figs about propriety, she decided to go on her own. I smiled as she scurried through her portal. She would turn out okay, if she ever calmed down enough to work with others.


    With Jade gone, Malia and I made our way up the mountain pass. The haze from yesterday still hung over the forest when we reached the overlook, but today it was thinner, as if whoever was obscuring the smoke realized they needed to do a better job. Malia¡¯s lip curled in disgust as she surveyed the leafy canopy below.


    ¡°Absolutely amateurish,¡± she said. Dipping her shoulder, she withdrew her Warbow and strung it. ¡°Humans might ignore that smoke, but they¡¯re doing nothing to mask their power.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    Her eyebrows climbed her forehead as she gave me a look. ¡°You still can¡¯t feel it?¡±


    I scratched the back of my neck. ¡°Honestly? No.¡±


    ¡°Can you sense anything? What about my aura?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± I couldn¡¯t feel much of anything in the way of divine power, radiating from her or the forest below. Although with Malia, she probably had hers tightly under wraps until she was ready to announce herself to the Paedens below. ¡°It¡¯s like a low, familiar, warm glow. I know it¡¯s there, but it¡¯s not very distinct.¡±


    She snorted and nocked an arrow. As she drew the Bow, she said, ¡°You¡¯re such a rickety old man. Maybe you should talk to Seppo and see if he has any aura hearing aids you can borrow.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea. I¡¯ll see if he has any braces for all those bags under your eyes, too.¡±


    Her nostrils flared. ¡°I do not.¡±


    ¡°You do.¡± I laughed. ¡°And I think you¡¯re developing a wrinkle in your forehead.¡±


    She relaxed the Bow and ran her fingers across her brow. Feeling nothing, she scowled and drew the Bow again. ¡°Asshole.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s the Malia charm we all know and love.¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    Grinning, I folded my arms and settled into a comfortable stance. ¡°Are you going to announce us or what?¡±


    ¡°Well, I would have several days ago if you¡¯d just stop yapping.¡± She sighted down the shaft. A blink, and she¡¯d magicked the arrowhead into a bundle of cloth tied to the shaft by rough twine. As she readied her shot, the twine caught fire, the flame eating up the string on its way to the bound cloth. Releasing her breath in a controlled exhale, she steadied the Bow.


    A twang, and the arrow went winging away over the woods. Just as it reached the height of its arc, the fire caught up to the raghead. Whatever powder was inside exploded, branching into a shower of faux meteorites that rained violet sparks upon the leafy canopy. At the same time, Malia unveiled her aura and split the air with a power-infused shriek which startled flocks of birds from the trees. The falling chunks of purple fireworks burst into clouds of lavender glitter, sparking as they mixed with the enchanted haze.


    A lone, solemn horn sounded, matched by an answering pillar of energy erupting from the heart of the forest. The source of the power was definitely foreign, a warm, gritty energy that spoke to broad deserts and open skies. A dark form shot up to the top and hovered in the sky, hovering on long, avian wings as it scanned the mountains. Good that they weren¡¯t leathery, draconian wings. A birdform would be much easier to handle than any airborne lizards, especially fire-breathers. The flying figure finally noticed Malia and banked its wings to descend in a rush to the path below.


    As the Apkalla approached, we got a good look at its form which was unusual, to say the least. Its wings displayed two different colorings, slate gray with silver lining on the back, white with black speckles underneath. Although it had a human head, its hair resembled white down feathers, and its cheeks and eyes were sunken, giving it a hawkish appearance. Its arms and torso were also human, well-muscled, and it carried a pinecone the size of a melon in its right hand.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    But its lower section was the strangest part. While its legs were the strong, thin, taloned legs of a raptor, they glittered with emerald fish scales which matched the thick, piscine tail that extended behind it. Paper-thin, jade-hued membranes fanned out from the tip of its fish tail, fluttering just above the ground as it walked up to us.


    When it stood a stone¡¯s throw away, it stopped and stared at us with its dark, beady eyes. As it raised the pinecone, the stem extended until it formed a spear, with the pinecone as the head. It rapped the dirt with the butt of its weapon and chirped once, snapping to attention. ¡°Who calls upon Oannes, servant of Marudak and chief among the Apkalla?¡±


    Malia flared her wings and flashed her fangs. ¡°What arrogant mortal dares trespass upon my domain and then address me as an inferior? You will bow, worm, or die.¡±


    ¡°These lands are not yours, nor are they any god¡¯s, for that matter.¡± The Apkalla curled his lips back, showing thick, uneven teeth. ¡°I feel the claim of no deity upon them. And I can sense your ignorance, from your brash response, of who I am and whom I serve. Though mortal I may be, yet may my lord use me as his vessel, anointing me with his power to speak as his mouthpiece.¡±


    Malia waved her hand dismissively. ¡°I know it. Semi-divine avatars or however your kind classifies them.¡±


    ¡°Then you would know,¡± he said, his brow pinching, ¡°that to insult me is to insult my lord.¡±


    ¡°Of course. He should feel honored to have merited an insult in the first place.¡± She flashed a smile. ¡°Although it is a bit low to berate children. So I¡¯ll cut you some slack and let you off with a warning. Now leave, and take your peasants with you.¡±


    ¡°You are an impertinent woman, with no authority over me.¡± Oannes scowled at her, then turned to me. ¡°I would speak with you, as man to man, unless your culture is so far gone in barbarism that you let the womenfolk dictate on your behalf.¡±


    Malia¡¯s eyes flew open, and she started laughing. She knew what was coming. Still laughing, she bowed to me and slithered back. ¡°He¡¯s all yours.¡±


    ¡°A gift?¡± Oannes frowned. ¡°I have no need of servants, although I appreciate the gesture.¡±


    ¡°There will be a gift,¡± I said, cracking my knuckles. ¡°Though not as you expect. Now, before we continue, I just want to get something cleared up. Make sure we¡¯re on the same page, so to speak.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t quite follow your logic.¡± The Apkalla shifted his hands across the shaft of his spear, crossing the weapon in front of him as he squared off against me. Smart lad.


    ¡°Are you saying that she is incompetent and an uncivilized barbarian?¡± I could feel the battle itch crawling beneath my skin, tingling across the backs of my hands. ¡°That she¡¯s incapable of speaking for herself, let alone another?¡±


    ¡°Ah, the Feminine Heresy.¡± He shook his head and managed to look disappointed. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that the unenlightened live in such depravity, yet it never fails to astound me how far genalen peoples stray from the righteous laws carved into their hearts.¡±


    I blinked. He still hadn¡¯t grasped the severity of his situation. As I drew my Sword, I dropped my inhibitions and let him feel the weight of my power.


    Coughing, he staggered back a step, catching his balance with his spear.


    ¡°There we go. Enlightenment.¡± I grinned at his scowl. ¡°Let me spell things out in simple terms your puny little brain can understand.¡± I pointed my Sword towards Malia. ¡°She is my Co-Seat, my partner in more than just my Office.¡±


    The Apkalla gave me a blank look.


    ¡°What¡¯s he¡¯s tripping over himself to say,¡± Malia said, rolling her eyes, ¡°is that you¡¯ve just insulted, in cultural equivalences, his wife, and then had the gall to insult him as well.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a little more complicated than that, but it¡¯ll do for an analogy.¡±


    ¡°Ah. So you will follow her orders like a beaten cur.¡± He drew himself up as he put on a brave face, although his white knuckles on his spear betrayed him.


    My Sword warmed like a branding iron as I poured just a smidgin of power into it. The heat of the grip felt good in my hand, recalling a host of memories from my former days of carving through my enemies with ease. Fun times.


    My reminiscing must have spilled onto my face, because the Apkalla leered at whatever grin had poked out. ¡°That was not a compliment.¡±


    My smile broadened. ¡°How young are you, child?¡±


    ¡°Marudak is eternal, and shall forever be.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask about your master.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Kids these days.¡±


    ¡°As Marudak, so are we.¡± Oannes scowled at us. ¡°The mind of Marudak has held us in existence since time immemorial. The vapors of our lives upon this mortal plane are mere grains of sand in the endless desert of eternity.¡±


    ¡°A straighter answer there never was,¡± Malia said, rolling her eyes.


    The Apkalla leveled his spear at her. ¡°You would do well to remember your station and speak only when spoken to.¡±


    I smashed my Sword into his weapon, shearing off the pinecone just below the base. He stumbled back and stared at his damaged weapon in shock. Cracking my neck, I took a step forward. ¡°All right. I tried the reasonable route, but you don¡¯t want to talk without debasing yourself. So I¡¯m done talking. You¡¯d better get your rotten fish-smelling ass out of my sight right now, or I¡¯m going to send you back to Marudak in pieces. I¡¯ll even wrap the urn in a nice, Carthian blue bow and sign my name in your blood. Now leave.¡±


    Throwing his beheaded spear on the ground, Oannes spread his arms and wings and threw his head back. A piercing cry, like the call of a hunting eagle, rent the air. Not only was it an uncomfortable sound, but it was also far at odds with the throat from which it issued. No human vocal cords could produce such a sound, and it made the back of my neck tingle.


    ¡°Oh great Marudak, lend me your strength against the unbelievers!¡± His human voice darted around his eagle cry like a fox through a burning field. Mingled with these disparate sounds was an undertone of power, a low bass that thrummed against my shoulder blades. Oannes slowly lifted off the ground, his toes dragging as the power drew him up.


    Malia and I backed away, bracing ourselves as Oannes filled with the essence of his divine master. We shared a look and readied our weapons, Malia nocking an arrow and I switching from my Sword to my Spear. Looks like we were going to get a firsthand demonstration of what an imbued demigod could do.

 Chapter 25: "The Skirmish"

    I had to admit a certain level of admiration for the spectacle Oannes put on as he became the vessel of Marudak¡¯s avatar. Lines of power arced around his body like coronas, the weight of the divine energy radiating from his body almost oppressive as it pushed against our godly auras. His eyes glowed with an unearthly light, and his tail floated as if freed from the pull of gravity. Embers drifted through the air, cast off by the gentle sweeps of his wings.


    And Malia hadn¡¯t been kidding when she had second-guessed her ability to take this Apkalla solo. Together, we could probably hold our own with room to spare, but I wasn¡¯t sure that, even in my prime, I could have matched the amount of power Marudak had poured into his servant.


    Fear that wasn¡¯t mine tickled the back of my mind, worry at the raw power being unleashed. Through our bond, I could feel Malia¡¯s instincts screaming for her to flee, and if it was bad enough that I could sense her reaction, she must really be scared. But she wore her unbothered mocking face like a war mask and even managed to give the Apkalla a contemptuous smile. But I had to admit, it was concerning just how strong Oannes had become, because if Marudak had given him what power he could safely spare, it meant we¡¯d have our hands full in open conflict with the god himself.


    Oannes seemed to sense my thoughts. Fixing his glowing eyes on mine, he smiled as he spread his claws. ¡°Finally ready to lose your levity, eh?¡±


    I grinned and spread my feet, finding a stable stance. ¡°I suppose I should thank you.¡±


    ¡°Oh? For what?¡±


    ¡°For helping me grind the rust off my muscles.¡± I rolled my shoulders and readied my Spear. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll have a single knot left when I¡¯ve finished imprinting the ground with your face.¡±


    He leered. ¡°We¡¯ll see about that.¡±


    As he dove, Malia launched a volley of flaming arrows that disintegrated as they collided with Oannes¡¯ aura. Sparks flew, mixing with the embers of divine energy flaking off his wings. During that brief moment between his descent and collision with me, I felt my battle rage course through me like chills brought on by haunting music.


    The fury of a berserker is often misunderstood. It is not a blind rage that consumes them and drives them like a wild beast to carve their way through a fray. No, the bloodrush is a blend of mindset and motion, a harmonious balance between emotional drive and intellectual execution. Like a river which flows ever onwards, no matter the stone or tree in its path, the berserker¡¯s rage carries its warrior beyond any obstacle. The way such entranced fighters ignore bleeding wounds, loss of limbs, even mortal injuries as they¡¯re born along the fight is often mistaken for thoughtless, animalistic furor, but that¡¯s a fundamental misunderstanding of how, in such a state, nothing but the battle matters. The mind is not gone, but wholly devoted to the singular task of annihilating one¡¯s enemies.


    Such a state I shrugged on, like a warding cloak, as Oannes extended his claws to rake across my face. The tips of his talons struck my cheeks, crackling the bones like crunched gravel. Before his claws had left my face, my regenerative powers began to restore the pocked bones, but I felt no pain. The gooey warmth of the healing was also absent. The chill of the wind¡ªwas it chilly? I¡¯ve forgotten¡ªfailed to bother me as I settled into the comfortable shroud of my war mentality.


    Grinning, I gripped my Spear and shrugged off his attack. Hardened arrows pierced his wards, most passing harmless through his feathers and smashing into me. My mind registered them as dull thuds in my ribcage that tried to dislodge my stance with their transferred momentum. Malia knew about my battle state, and had no qualms taking advantage of it.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I could see the confusion riddle the Apkalla¡¯s face as more quarrels peppered my body. None seemed to have even grazed him, so he wasn¡¯t yet ranting about being attacked by a woman, but he couldn¡¯t understand how Malia gave such little regard for her partner¡¯s life. His bewilderment vanished when I brandished my Spear and charged him.


    Battling him was a truly pleasant experience. I dodged his strikes, ducked his sweeping wings, and stayed out of range of his tail as he cut, bobbed, and wove around my Spear thrusts and magic blasts. We circled each other, dancing around the pass as we dueled on. As I put my back to Malia, I felt my nerves alight with sensed danger. Without a second thought, I dropped to my stomach.


    Harsh, breath-snatching heat washed over my back, rippling my robes. I heard Oannes gasp as the full force of Malia¡¯s gaze slammed into him, and the earth trembled and cracked as he staggered against it. Malia shrieked, enraged at his resistance, and channeled more power into the blast. Even on my stomach, I still felt like I was being trampled by a herd of angry wildebeests. I couldn¡¯t imagine facing down her full wrath.


    When the intensity finally abated, I cautiously pushed to my feet.


    Oh. Well then. I guess the Tingins didn¡¯t want those trees anyways.


    The whole mountainside behind Oannes, from the trough of the pass up to the peak, was a smoking blasted wasteland. Charred twigs, like scattered grave markers, were the only indicators that a forest had once blanketed the slope, and bone-dry gouges in the gray, stony surface bore witness to the streams and rivulets that had once wended down the mountain. A handful of bleached deer skulls peppered the rock face, their hollow sockets staring down in guilty accusation.


    For a mortal, Oannes had weathered the gorgon gaze surprisingly well. With his god¡¯s protection, he¡¯d only lost all of his feathers, a good layer or two of skin, and both of his eyes. He looked like a scarecrow that had been torched, then the fire put out before it burned through the post supporting the effigy. Gone was the haughty, self-assured visage, replaced by an ugly wax caricature of agony. His wings, stripped of their plumage, flailed behind him like pimply flesh boomerangs. His fish tail had lost its sheen, resembling faded paint more than any living thing had any right to be. All in all, he¡¯d had the worst, most unenviable makeover ever.


    When he finally recovered enough to find his voice, he screamed in ear-splitting agony. His legs bowed like thin boards under too much weight, his lungs bellowing in delayed panic. Muscles trembling, he staggered down the path, stumbling blindly into me and bouncing off without much force. For all the power he must have spent shielding himself, he still radiated enough energy that, if he¡¯d gathered his wits about him, he could have yet posed a real threat. As it was, his sanity seemed to have melted away along with his looks.


    ¡°You damned savages!¡± He lurched past Malia, hissing blindly in all directions as he blundered back towards his camp obscured in the forest below. ¡°I will remember your faces for all eternity. When Marudak restores my sight, I will return and slay you, skin your faces, and wipe the shit off my ass with your¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh, piss off.¡± Malia sent an arrow thunking into the Apkalla¡¯s shoulder. The force of the shot spun him around, knocking him off his feet. She had the most satisfied smile on her face as she watched him flounder about on the ground, trying to regain his footing, and I couldn¡¯t help sharing her grin. So much for the terrifying envoy of the foreign god.


    ¡°You would do best...to kill me now,¡± he snarled, writhing around to get his willowy limbs under him. ¡°At least Marudak would be merciful in his vengeance.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think Marudak will even notice your loss.¡± Malia lined up another shot, her tongue just poking through her lips, and released. The shaft wobbled as the arrow embedded itself between Oannes¡¯ ribs. The Apkalla squealed and soiled the ground as he flinched away. Smiling, Malia reached for another arrow, but I held up a hand.


    ¡°Enough. Either kill him or let him go, but stop playing with your food.¡±


    ¡°Leave your fun behind in your temple?¡± She pouted but put the arrow back in the quiver. ¡°At least let me sink one in his knee.¡±


    I rolled my eyes.


    ¡°Fine.¡± She huffed. Slithering over to hover over the Apkalla, she hissed and spat on him. ¡°Crawl back to your people on your belly, Worm, and tell Marudak he¡¯s expected.¡±


    Oannes rubbed at the spittle on his face with a rubber hand. ¡°Stockpile tribute while you can. Marudak will demand harsh payment for this insult.¡±


    She laughed. ¡°I¡¯ll take that seriously when Marudak sends a serious representative.¡± After another spit, this one laced with gorgon venom, she turned her back with a flick of her wings and slithered back towards the mining village. ¡°Come, Charax. This blight is beneath us.¡±


    I shook my head. Whatever had just happened, Malia couldn¡¯t be more pleased with herself with how much she was preening. I hadn¡¯t seen her this satisfied since...well, since she¡¯d watched my helplessness at her traps collapsing around me and dragging me back into pantheon affairs. While another pantheon invading our territory was big enough on its own, there was something else afoot for Malia to be prancing on ahead like that. And not just from how thoroughly we¡¯d embarrassed the emissary of a pantheon older and presumably more powerful than ours, oh no.


    Another one of Malia¡¯s schemes was hatching, and she couldn¡¯t be happier with the clutch. Affixing my Spear to my back, I shuffled after her. Better to catch up with her, fast, and get the details while she was still in a good mood. She always divulged more than she intended when she was floating on endorphins.

 Chapter 26: "The Stroll"

    It didn¡¯t take long to catch up to Malia. She had slowed and was now taking her time getting down the mountain, sashaying with serpentine splendor as she celebrated our victory. Her smug grin was still firmly in place, and for a moment I wondered if she¡¯d even be able to talk through those taut facial muscles. I fell into step beside her and said, ¡°All right, spill it.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Her eyes flashed as she cast me a sideways glance.


    Oh goodness. Her fangs were out, and she was positively overflowing with satisfaction. I didn¡¯t think her mood could possibly get any better.


    ¡°This can¡¯t be because the encounter went much easier than you thought it would,¡± I said, chuckling.


    ¡°Easy?¡± She quirked a brow and brushed up against me. ¡°Charax, without looking at the sun, what time is it?¡±


    ¡°Er¡­¡± Now that she mentioned it, I hadn¡¯t paid any attention to the time. When the fight had started, it had been early afternoon, but somehow dusk had settled and evening had come in full. Had it really taken that long?


    Malia nodded to my unspoken question. ¡°My old Charax came back today.¡± She smiled and tugged an arrow out of my torso. ¡°You were so alive in that fight. So in your zone that nothing but the battle mattered. And you were so fluid, I even forgot what a rickety old bag of bones you are.¡±


    ¡°Hey.¡± I grunted as she yanked another arrow out. Not that it hurt, but she timed it perfectly, as if she¡¯d been waiting for my protest to sync the pull to and make it seem like it did. In all honesty, she probably had. ¡°That¡¯s not everything. Come on.¡±


    She gave a happy sigh and leaned against me. ¡°I¡¯m glad you liked your gift.¡±


    ¡°My what?¡±


    ¡°Surprise.¡± Her eyes twinkled as she smiled up at me. ¡°I knew you¡¯d like it. You haven¡¯t had a good fight in a while.¡±


    ¡°I did.¡± My eyebrows twitched down. ¡°But I¡¯m lost as to how you claim to have orchestrated that.¡±


    She laughed softly. ¡°You didn¡¯t think I¡¯ve been going off into the forest beyond for the sights, did you?¡±


    I frowned. ¡°You only did that once.¡±


    ¡°Once while you were here.¡± That mischievous grin snapped back into place. ¡°I¡¯ve been coming here to antagonize the Paedens ever since we laid claim to the mines. How do you think Jade converted?¡±


    ¡°That was you?¡± I honestly couldn¡¯t keep the shock from my voice. While Malia wasn¡¯t...unpersonable, per se, she wouldn¡¯t have been my first choice for an ambassador, even with my personal bias. How she managed to draw a deity away from another pantheon, even a minor one, was beyo¡ª


    Never mind. This was Malia. She¡¯d get flies drinking vinegar and thinking it was grade A honey. I shook my head and laughed. ¡°So, what, you¡¯ve been pissing in their territory and now they¡¯ve caught wind of your markings?¡±


    She batted my shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t be crude. A better analogy would be I stole the bear¡¯s cave during the summer, and now it¡¯s winter and he has nowhere to hibernate. Jade, the mineral not the goddess, has some ritual significance and the Paedens come once a century or so to mine it.¡± She grinned. ¡°I simply claimed it while they were gone, and took the goddess with me.¡±


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Wrinkles crinkled my face as I frowned. ¡°And they never tried to take it back?¡±


    ¡°What do you think that is?¡± She waved behind us, in the direction of Oannes¡¯ camp. ¡°They¡¯ve only just discovered Jade¡¯s absence last year. And they do want her back, so they¡¯re not going to outright attack her, even if she left their pantheon.¡±


    Gears started turning. ¡°So the Kydonian tiger¡­¡±


    ¡°Is probably their work, yes.¡± Malia scowled. ¡°Something that would flush the miners out without pinning the deaths on them. From my scouting, I¡¯ve seen several lion-aspected humanoids with hunting gear among the Paedens, so I¡¯d wager their angle is they were planning to offer their protection and slay the tiger for Jade, to lure her back to their pantheon.¡±


    We walked in silence for a bit, letting the statement hang in the air. Finally, I said, ¡°So you don¡¯t like her, because she¡¯s easy to bully into subservience.¡±


    Malia flicked her hand dismissively. ¡°She can¡¯t think for herself, or of herself as more than an object. She¡¯s a weak, foolish goddess whose greatest aspiration is to spread her legs for the next pantheon that will keep her housed, fed, and safe from the Paedens. She¡¯ll even tolerate abuse, so long as it¡¯s not sending her back to them.¡± She frowned. ¡°But, as you so aptly pointed out, she did manage to stand up to the Paedens on her own, so she¡¯s not entirely spineless. Maybe in a couple centuries she¡¯ll even develop a personality past selling her body. For now, she blunders about like an idiot, trying to be whatever ideal others expect of her instead of just being herself.¡±


    I gave her a stern look. ¡°So she fled an abusive pantheon, and your complaint is that she¡¯s trying to fit in no matter what.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what she presents, on the surface.¡± Malia narrowed her eyes at the surrounding trees. ¡°But we only have her word for what happened, and I have my suspicions.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡±


    She frowned at my unhappy expression. ¡°You weren¡¯t here for the Ghorin deception.¡±


    ¡°The elven druids?¡± I couldn¡¯t fathom what they¡¯d possibly done. If any fit Oannes¡¯ ¡°primitive savages¡± accusation, the Ghorins did. Grouped in loose coalitions and clans across a tiny island far to the north, the scantily-clad elves practiced shamanism and rough, wasteful nature magic. Lots of raw potential, but poor channeling. During my time, they¡¯d had gods as primitive as they, and what deities they had could scarcely be described as a pantheon with how loose and fluid their identities were.


    She smirked. ¡°They¡¯re not half-naked savages all the time now, just during rituals.¡± Her snakes rattled as she shook her head. ¡°Their gods got uppity, so when we confronted them they played subservient, sent tribute and servants, acted cowed, etc. It was funny and sad how blind they thought we were to their ruse.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°They tried assassinating us during the night with the servants they¡¯d given us for Nebesa. We sent the heads back on platters with a note not to do that again. But the thing that annoyed me,¡± she said, scowling, ¡°is how genuine they seemed in their submission. They were even more convincing than Jade¡¯s...mental issues. So a traitor, even a willing expat like her, could always be a ruse. Especially from a pantheon that predates ours.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°True. So what angles do you think the Paedens will go for? Besides the tiger, obviously.¡±


    We ducked through the cool, evening shade of the trees as the sun dipped behind the horizon. Ulti must have been in a bad mood, because the sunset was only a bare splash of orange tonight. From the dewy scent hanging in the air, it smelled like it was going to rain tonight or tomorrow morning.


    Malia huddled up against me as the first hints of evening chill crept in. ¡°If they choose blunt, they could simply refuse to acknowledge her departure and discredit any of Jade¡¯s protests as brainwashing or bribery on our part. They could claim we kidnapped her and invaded their territory. The tiger is slightly more sophisticated but, failing that, they could just choose invasion.¡± She shrugged against me, her wing brushing my back. ¡°They have an army, if you could call it that, already at our doorstep.¡±


    ¡°Without a god, and his Seer injured, I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll pose much threat.¡± I rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. ¡°But I¡¯ll scout their troops and capabilities later, if you want.¡±


    She perked up, but then she surprised me by scowling and wrinkling her nose at the air. ¡°Do you smell that?¡±


    ¡°Smell what?¡± I sniffed, but didn¡¯t sense anything beyond the impending rain.


    ¡°The goats.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No, I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Me either.¡± Her scowl deepened. ¡°And I can¡¯t sense the goatherds anywhere.¡±


    I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­¡±


    She jerked away, beating her wings as she rose into the air. ¡°I¡¯ll check the mountains. You get the village.¡±


    I gave her a terse nod and scrambled back down the path, my joints barely creaking from the effort. Tomfool boy had probably taken the tranqed-up goats into the mines by himself to deal with the tiger. I thought he¡¯d have at least one more day of rest in him before he ventured back into the mines, but with us being gone all day and him having been bedridden for the past few days, he had probably grown eager to get moving and headed off to resume his Trial.


    But if the Paedens really were responsible for the current state of the Kydonian tiger, then whatever sorcery was at work would most likely interfere with the sedatives. Who knew what kind of reaction the drugs would have on the enchantments. So if Hasda had gone in, I needed to get him out before things went horribly sideways.


    A horrifying roar rent the night, and I felt my heart shrink from the sudden cold foreboding it poured over me. That was a cry filled with pain, rage, and madness. And it came from the mines.


    A dark shape swooped over me. Strong, slender arms slipped beneath my armpits and lifted me into the air. ¡°I heard it too,¡± Malia said, her wings beating furiously. ¡°Let¡¯s hope we¡¯re not too late.¡±

 Chapter 27: "The Mine"

    Smoke billowed from the mouth of the mine like a mountainous case of indigestion. Villagers scurried around their huts, keeping the buildings between them and the mine as they fled into the surrounding forest. Anguished, pain-filled cries filled the air, most from the Tingins, but the loudest from Hasda and the tiger, who were entangled in each other¡¯s limbs as they fought¡­


    Oh shit.


    ¡°Put me down!¡± I shouted, pushing against Malia¡¯s grip. She dropped me immediately, and my knees cracked like falling timbers as I crashed into the ground. That would hurt later. But first, Hasda. I sprinted through the village, gathering my sluggish, reluctant power as I went. The air crackled with energy, short arcs of lightning battling the stench of smoke with the odor of ozone.


    Above, Malia trailed frost as she too drew on her powers. She¡¯d have aerial advantage against whatever Hasda and the tiger were fighting, but she wouldn¡¯t be able to fire freely into them like she had with me. No gorgon¡¯s gaze, either, unless she wanted to petrify all three of them.


    And there were three. In between Hasda¡¯s jabs and the tiger¡¯s swipes whirled a vortex of inky black energy, flecked with vibrant, violet spots. The ethereal bastard was a djinn, one of the fabled creatures from the Paeden ends of the world, a creature of pure magic and malice. Against any mere mortal, it would have slain them and fled ages ago, but I could see orange sparks bursting off Hasda whenever the djinn struck him as my blessing shielded him. It wasn¡¯t enough to fully ward the lad, but it gave him equal footing against a being that no physical weapons should work on. But the blessing let Hasda use his body as a semi-divine weapon, so he boxed and grappled the djinn and tried to stay out of the tiger¡¯s way.


    As for the Kydonian feline, he resembled a much used-and-abused mophead that had been left, drenched in dirty cleaning fluids, to rot for several months. Emaciated as much as a beast with any amount of divinity could be, his bites and scratches lacked spirit, but they served enough of a distraction that Hasda wasn¡¯t completely overwhelmed by the djinn. The rumored yellow tinge to his coat was gone as well, replaced by clots of brown that gave him a recently recovered invalid look.


    Embers swirled around me like snowflakes as I rushed over to the combatants. ¡°Hasda!¡±


    ¡°Bussssy,¡± hissed the caustic voice of the djinn. Its sides undulated as it vibrated the air waves, in place of a mouth. ¡°Don¡¯t dissstract him.¡±


    Even though I was a stone¡¯s throw away from him, Hasda didn¡¯t react to the sound of my voice. The tiger flinched as a bit of my power seeped into my cry, but otherwise stayed fixated on the battle as well.


    ¡°What did you do to them?¡± I said, drawing my Sword.


    ¡°You mean what did he do to me?¡± the djinn spat back, his voice filled with a scowl. ¡°This blabberer ventured into realms he dare not tread untrained as he is. He spoke my Common Name and freed me from my bonds to the tiger.¡± His voice took on a wicked glee. ¡°But he could not bind me himself. Alas, for one so young to die.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that.¡±


    ¡°Charax, wait!¡± Malia cried as I raised my Sword. She slammed into the earth beside me and bent over, panting. ¡°Look.¡± She pointed at the mountainside above the entrance to the mines.


    Arms folded, face a stone mask, Kydon stood on the rocky face, watching the struggle impassively. When he saw my questioning glance, he shook his head. So the Trial wasn¡¯t yet concluded, even though the tiger was out of the mines and freed from his hexing. Bastard.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Hasda blinked against the sweat streaming into his eyes and strained against the cackling djinn. Somehow he found handholds on the amorphous blob wriggling in his grasp, and as he twisted the djinn closer and closer to the ground, the spirit¡¯s confident laughter turned uncertain, then panicked.


    ¡°No!¡± the djinn cried. ¡°Bind me, you idiot! Do not put me to earth.¡±


    Hasda held a contortion of darkness inches from the ground. Breathing hard, he clenched his teeth and pushed downwards. The djinn flailed like a strung fish and nearly tossed Hasda several times, but the lad kept his feet on the ground and stayed above the spirit. By now, the tiger had its claws fully in the djinn as well, adding its feeble strength to Hasda¡¯s as they bore down on the djinn.


    Malia stood like a taut bowstring, ready to snap forward at the smallest sign. What sign, I didn¡¯t know, but I didn¡¯t like how on edge she was, or how desperate the djinn was to be bound again instead of put to earth. Keeping my Sword pointed at the djinn, I edged closer to Malia and said, ¡°What happens if that djinn makes contact with the ground?¡±


    ¡°How should I know?¡± she hissed, her eyes snapping to mine. She had her fangs bared, and her eyes looked on the verge of venting a proper gorgon glare. ¡°They¡¯re not in our pantheon, and we haven¡¯t captured any in the time you¡¯ve been gone. Ask the Paedens.¡±


    ¡°Djinn!¡± I turned on the spirit. ¡°Why do you want to be bound again?¡±


    ¡°Save me!¡± it whined, writhing in Hasda¡¯s iron grip. ¡°He knows not what he does! He will unleash a demon far greater than I.¡±


    ¡°Explain.¡± I shifted forward. In my peripheral vision, I could sense Kydon leaning down as well, ready to declare his verdict should I intervene.


    ¡°This earth is old,¡± the djinn wheezed. ¡°Ancient spirits slumber here, and they would feed on me to be free. Please.¡±


    ¡°And how do we bind you?¡±


    ¡°An object, and my True Name.¡± Its purple spots pulsed as it pushed against Hasda. The lad nearly had the djinn on the ground. ¡°Speak it, quickly!¡±


    I lunged, skewering the ground with my Sword. The angled blade obstructed Hasda¡¯s takedown, keeping the djinn off the dirt. Kydon flinched, but stayed back. Good. So we could freely hinder Hasda¡¯s Trials. It was just the help that was restricted.


    Malia hissed in annoyance as she drew up next to me. I¡¯d found a loophole she hadn¡¯t, and that would irritate her to no end. Excellent.


    ¡°How do we know,¡± she said, scowling down at both of us, ¡°that this isn¡¯t some trick to release you?¡±


    So entranced was Hasda that he strained against the Sword, not realizing there was something in his way. His weight nearly drove me to my knees keeping the Sword in hand. Strong, determined lad. Wait, gods damn it.


    The djinn danced about like a crackling fire on my blade, pinned between the metal and Hasda. ¡°I will gladly sacrifice my freedom for my survival.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Malia drew an arrow, then held it horizontally by its shaft next to the djinn. ¡°Tell us your True Name, and I will bind you.¡±


    ¡°I cannot,¡± the djinn said, its voice scowling. ¡°The binder must discover it, then speak it. Else I cannot be bound.¡±


    Malia shrugged. ¡°If you say so.¡± She turned her back on the djinn and glanced at me. ¡°Remove your Sword.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± the djinn shrieked. ¡°You mustn¡¯t, you mustn¡¯t, you mustn¡¯t. Do not feed the elder spirits. Please.¡±


    ¡°Beg all you want,¡± Malia said, frowning as she rounded on the djinn. ¡°If you value your life so much, it would be an easy thing to divulge your True Name. But alas.¡± She sighed as if disappointed. ¡°If you can¡¯t, then we can¡¯t bind you. But we won¡¯t just set you loose, either. I¡¯m afraid that only leaves one option.¡± She nodded to me and slithered back.


    ¡°Not even I know my True Name.¡± The djinn throbbed like crashing surf. ¡°It is how the binders bind us. They discover, they speak, they shackle us. This, this babbler.¡± It pulsed towards Hasda. ¡°He can discover my name. He can bind me. But you must disturb his dreams. Rouse him from his bewitching and set his mind on my Names again.¡±


    Malia and I looked at each other and had one of those one-second eye conversations. Hasda was ensnared in whatever protective enchantments the Paeden sorcerers had created to keep the djinn safe from whoever freed the tiger from its possession. That meant whatever psychological labyrinth he was wandering through came directly from his Trial and was his responsibility to handle, as evidenced by Kydon¡¯s refusal to permit our help with the djinn.


    Malia dipped her head forward a fraction, moving as if to help him. Knowing her, she had some edge case lined up, like how we couldn¡¯t advise someone incapable of comprehending our advice. I shook my head. That might work if we could sway the whole pantheon to side against Kydon, but he would rule a failed Trial, instead of an invalid one, if we broke the hex on Hasda. Her eyes tightened but she backed off.


    The djinn read the tone of the looks and began to panic in earnest. It thrashed so hard it nearly knocked me off balance, sliding dangerously close to the ground down the flat of my blade. Malia hissed as the tiger sprang back, sinking its claws into the fighting djinn. I nearly twisted my ankle getting my weight back under my Sword, and as I did, I felt the wind rush over my back. Energy surged as a portal opened, spilling out the scent of...lilies?

 Chapter 28: "The Djinn"

    The air blurred around me. Tendrils of pale tan shimmered in the air, hanging like streamers in Jade¡¯s wake as she slithered between me and the djinn. In her lamia form, her legs had been replaced by a sandy golden snake body which whipped up dirt and chunks of grass from her fury. Brown energy, brighter than the tans trailing her shoulders, burst from her eyes as she bore down on the djinn.


    ¡°Saran!¡±


    From the way the djinn flinched, that was obviously its name. It cowered beneath her, as best it could given its positional predicament, and mumbled something unintelligible.


    Whatever language Jade berated it in, neither Malia nor I knew it. Hasda, spellbound as he was, paid it no attention either, but that wasn¡¯t confirmation he didn¡¯t understand it. The words were lilting, sonorous, cacophonous, as she moved through a range of emotions during her tirade. She gestured at Hasda several times, and the djinn recoiled and shied away as best he could.


    Compared to Malia and me, Jade¡¯s power was pitiful, but it seemed to cow the djinn. She had her full aura on display, although I could feel my age with how young and small her strength was. It was like watching an adolescent fumble through their first undirected adult errand. Simpler, inexperienced times, when mundane tasks seemed monumental.


    When it came to Paeden things, Jade was in her element, handling the djinn with far more grace than the awkwardness she¡¯d exuded as the feast. After she concluded her dressing down of the djinn, she fixed her eyes on Hasda and raised a hand towards him.


    And Malia snapped. She shot forward so fast, she nearly knocked all three of us over as she collided with Jade. I only barely got out of the way in time and had the djinn hissing as a small section of its amorphous blob grazed the ground.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Malia hissed, towering over the lamia, her wings flared.


    Jade wilted beneath her. ¡°I...I was going to help.¡±


    ¡°Really? Then what was all that about?¡± Malia jerked her hand between Jade and the djinn.


    Jade paled when she saw the spirit. ¡°Don¡¯t put him to earth! Raise him up, please.¡±


    ¡°Doing the best I can,¡± I said, straining to drag my Sword up against the weight of Hasda and the tiger.


    ¡°Why shouldn¡¯t we?¡± Malia said, circling around Jade.


    The lamia straightened and did her best to hold her ground. ¡°Tingin is just as much the fringe of Paedaea as it is Carthia. Many old demons were buried at the edges of the empire. This place is one of them.¡±


    ¡°And how does that apply to this djinn?¡± Malia drilled Jade with a stare. ¡°Or you, for that matter? Why do you care?¡±


    Jade dropped her gaze, embarrassed. ¡°The jade in the mines grows from the fragments of his shattered bones. In my old pantheon, I was guardian of his tomb.¡± She steeled herself and met Malia¡¯s glare. ¡°But he is an ancient and powerful evil, and he must not be revived. Feeding the djinn to him would give him a taste for resurrection, and could rouse him from his near-dead slumber.¡±


    ¡°He?¡± Malia tilted her head. ¡°Who is he?¡±


    ¡°The demon buried here. We do not speak his name.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all well and good,¡± I said, grunting as the tiger put more weight onto the djinn, ¡°but can we deal with this thing first? Plenty of time to chat later.¡±


    ¡°May I?¡± Jade ducked her head submissively to Malia before approaching Hasda. ¡°This hex, it binds by amplifying the strongest aspect of the person¡¯s spirit. Hasda has great dedication, but the spell has snared him into single-minded pursuit.¡± She laid a glowing hand on his forehead, then drew her hand across his eyes. As she mumbled something in that lullabic language, Hasda shivered and jerked, his eyes twitching back and forth.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    When she withdrew, tremors shook Hasda from his neck to his knees. He sneezed, and then his eyes focused. Jade caught his gaze like a viper mesmerizes a bird. More murmured words, half command, half plea, and Hasda nodded and picked up the caravan of words and marched them into the djinn.


    It was an unearthly experience, made stranger by the fact that it was taking place wholly within the mortal realm. Undercurrents of energy slid between Hasda and the djinn, the lad leaning closer as more and more lines connected them. Slowly the djinn rose into the air, its plasmic insides swirling as it hovered. I eased up off the ground, sheathing my Sword. The tiger crouched to my right, watching the floating spirit with uneasy eyes. Malia and Jade watched from my left, having backed off as Hasda began his binding. Wings tense, Malia positioned herself between the lamia and Hasda, her Bow at the ready.


    The air cracked as a thick, crimson line burst from Hasda chest, the ethereal energy passing harmlessly through his armor as it lanced the djinn. It made my stomach churn, both from its color, which resembled blood far too much for my liking, and from its aura, which made my throat feel bloated, as if stuffed with rotten scrambled eggs. When scarlet drops of energy bled from the line, I had to forcibly dig my feet into the ground to keep myself from rushing forward.


    Whatever sorcery this binding was, it wasn¡¯t Carthian, and it certainly wasn¡¯t holy. But it didn¡¯t seem to be hurting Hasda yet, and with how much space Jade was giving Hasda, it didn¡¯t seem wise to interrupt the incantation. Carthians avoided meddling with spirits precisely because of the myriad of adverse affects spiritual magic could afflict on its wielder, not to mention how untrustworthy the spirits themselves were. Add to that the strongest spirits came from older pantheons that predated our advent, and we left them well enough alone.


    Like a spring bursting through a rent in a cliff, another line of aberrant energy snapped between Hasda and the djinn. It throbbed with light that warped the air around it and made my stomach twist into knots. Another line joined it, and another, until a half-dozen beams of twisted energy connected Hasda and the djinn, who were barely a foot apart now. Hasda¡¯s toes dragged on the ground as he was pulled upwards, almost into the djinn.


    Shrieks like grating metal filled the air as the two finally touched. A bubble of wine-red light enveloped the pair, stitches of burgundy and maroon energy zigzagging across its surface. The shrieks became banshee whines, rising in pitch until it was almost unbearable. Then, with a rush of wind, everything went calm.


    Hasda floated down, arms outstretched, and landed lightly on his feet. He looked dazed, both at his surroundings and at the strange etchings on his chestplate, which wound around and back on themselves like a branching river delta. The markings had a reddish-purple hue, like an infected wound, and were uneven, scoring the armor in some places and bubbling up in others like bad welds. A wave of nausea rolled over us all, and then it was gone.


    Hasda smiled at Jade and gestured towards the tiger. ¡°I brought you a present.¡± Then he pitched forward, out cold.


    Malia darted forward, catching him before he face-planted into the ground. As her hands met the marred armor, she winced, but she quickly hid her grimace. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with him? And be quick,¡± she snapped at Jade.


    The lamia shrank back, the air beneath her shimmering as she shifted to human legs. Eyes on the ground, she said, ¡°He has bound the djinn to his breastplate. It will accompany him as long as the armor is in his possession.¡±


    ¡°That didn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°While the binding did not harm him,¡± Jade continued, ¡°it has left him drained. I fear his conflict with the Kydonian tiger has done him no favors, either. He needs to rest and then spend time finalizing his bond with the djinn.¡±


    Malia pursed her lips but said nothing as she carried Hasda past her, heading to his hut.


    Jade danced out of Malia¡¯s way, keeping her gaze averted. When the gorgon was long gone, she finally looked up, first at me, then the tiger. ¡°Did he really mean it?¡±


    ¡°Mean what?¡± I rolled my shoulders, testing my joints. Holding the djinn up hadn¡¯t taken nearly as much out of me as I expected.


    She rubbed her shoulder, looking away. ¡°About the tiger.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Yeah.¡± I winced as my neck popped unexpectedly during a roll. ¡°There¡¯s more to it, but I¡¯d better let him explain it to you. Since it was his idea, after all.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Her eyes took on a haunted look as she watched the tiger, which had laid down and was staring at us silently.


    I frowned. ¡°Something wrong?¡±


    She shook her head and smiled. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I just...no one¡¯s ever given me a gift before.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± That was unusual, even for a minor deity. ¡°Your worshippers never brought you offerings?¡±


    Blushing, she dropped her gaze again. ¡°In Paedaea, worshippers are not required for divinity. And who would devote themselves to a backwater servant?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Still blushing, she shuffled over to the tiger and approached it slowly. ¡°With the djinn gone, it can begin healing. Perhaps it would like to bathe in the springs of Maas Taeful?¡±


    The tiger blinked.


    Jade took that as all the confirmation she needed. Clasping her hands together, she turned and forced a smile. ¡°We will await Hasda, and his further words, in Nebesa. Tell him...I appreciate his gift.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°You can tell him yourself at the feast.¡±


    She jerked a nod as her honey-brown portal opened around her and the tiger. The smell of lilies spilled out, fogging around us unseen. With a flash, the portal swallowed them, leaving me to return to the village on my own.


    One thing troubled me as I made my way down the mountain. The look in Jade¡¯s eyes when she talked about her new gift was a mix of emotions, like she wanted to laugh, cry, and curl up on herself, all at the same time. And while I didn¡¯t know the specifics, I knew for a fact that the haunted half of that look came from her history with her former pantheon. Whatever memories hounded her, they were far from pleasant.


    I grunted as Hasda¡¯s hut came into view. Well, I¡¯d ask Malia and see what she knew. No sense needlessly speculating in an area I was woefully ignorant.

 Chapter 29: "The History"

    Ah, the enticing smells of a bountiful feast. We sat at the long table in the Hall of Maas Bierg, anticipating the dryads¡¯ announcement that the meal was ready. Seppo occupied his traditional place at the head of the table, the empty seat on his left and Hasda, his right. Jade had displaced Malia and I, so we sat across from her on Seppo¡¯s left. With the empty seat on my right and the stupid table leg pressing against the inside of my left knee, I had a prime view of the minor goddess and my boy.


    Malia sat on my left, watching them with a brooding look. Tarrha and Synnefo had moved up the table, with Tarrha in Malia¡¯s former seat. The beauty goddess kept trying to catch Malia¡¯s eye, but she ignored her and maintained her study of Jade and Hasda.


    Azoria was strangely absent, as was Thane. Kydon sat next to Malia, eyeing the food on the table with an abnormally impatient look. Not that he never looked impatient, but for once I thought his mind was on the food and not the proceedings.


    Resef, the water god, and Vrixia, the harvest goddess, had paired off on our side of the table. With the coming planting season, they¡¯d be busy showering the earth with their respective blessings, so their reunion wasn¡¯t surprising. What was remarkable was Ulti¡¯s absence. They never missed a chance to flaunt their dress, and with the evening sunset fast approaching it was time for them to make an appearance. Not only that, they loved gushing over new and revived relationships, so to miss Resef and Vrixia getting back together made no sense whatsoever.


    Seppo was also behaving strangely this evening. Rather than trying to impress Hasda with his wealth of stories or grilling the lad for every detail of the Trial, he sat staring at his plate, drumming his fingers with the most moody expression on his face that I¡¯d seen in centuries. I could smell a battle brewing underneath the currents of tension eddying across the room, but I didn¡¯t like that I couldn¡¯t feel the lines of battle. And Malia was being no help, muddying my senses with her extreme concentration on Jade and Hasda.


    Honestly, with the way they were chatting away, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if Tarrha paid them a visit later and blessed them with, if not a union, then at least a fling. I had no idea how the dynamics of a relationship between an immigrated minor deity and a barely demigod undergoing Trials would play out, but frankly, Hasda deserved his chance at love. I¡¯d have to talk with him later to make sure they didn¡¯t base their whole relationship around his having saved her village during his Trial, but beyond that, they could do as they pleased.


    That is, if Malia would stop glaring daggers long enough for them to have any privacy.


    I nudged her elbow. ¡°Lay off them, would you?¡± I whispered out the side of my mouth.


    ¡°She¡¯s as star-struck as he is,¡± she hissed back, barely covering her mouth to be discrete. As if hiding our whispers would make her ire or the object of its attention any less apparent. ¡°They¡¯re both inexperienced and liable to get burned confusing infatuation for love.¡±


    ¡°They have to learn some way,¡± I countered. ¡°It¡¯s not as if we knew what we were doing our first time, and you certainly can¡¯t say you¡¯ve become an expert in normal relationships since then.¡±


    She smiled and blinked once, a slow, deliberate movement that made my skin crawl. ¡°Have you noticed Hasda¡¯s dress?¡±


    ¡°What? Yes, of course.¡± The lad had his scarred armor on over a light brown tunic, which complimented the red markings quite nicely. He¡¯d bathed and paid some attention to his hair, which was more than could be said about its arrangement for the preceding decades of his life. Overall, he¡¯d cleaned up quite nicely and, given his newfound motivation, added more depth to its significance than just celebrating his first major accomplishment.


    Malia frowned. ¡°That possessed chestplate is the only piece of armor he wore tonight. No bracers, no greaves, no hip guards. He didn¡¯t even bring his helmet for the ceremony.¡±


    I waved a hand. ¡°That can be retrieved when it¡¯s needed. No sense clogging up the table, above or below, with it before then.¡±


    ¡°Further,¡± Malia said, raising a finger, ¡°half their conversation has been in whatever arcane language they used to bind the djinn during the Trial, and the other half has been in Paeden.¡±


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°So?¡± My brows scrunched down as I frowned. ¡°Everyone can understand Paeden, so it¡¯s not like they¡¯re keeping secrets, and Jade did say he needed to develop his connection with the djinn. Learning the language to control it sounds like a logical follow-up.¡±


    Malia scowled as the satyrs behind us trumpeted to announce that the final roast had finished. A silvery-green dryad hovered up next to Seppo and ran through the list of prepared dishes: glazed ham, seared steak, roasted and bronzed vegetables of all kinds, even more varieties of meats, salads, and produce I couldn¡¯t pay attention to because of Malia.


    ¡°He already knows the language,¡± she said. ¡°Or did you forget the part where he bound the djinn, on his own, with no coaching through the incantations?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°While I know that this spirit is an unknown variable you have to adjust for, I¡¯d have thought you could put scheming aside long enough to celebrate Hasda¡¯s victory.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± She flashed a smile. ¡°Because them conversing with the djinn in a language only they can understand is definitely a problem worth ignoring and saving for later.¡±


    ¡°You know what I meant.¡± I leaned back as a satyr set a plate with gravy-bathed lamb chops in front of me. ¡°Time and place.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± She flashed me an angry smile as a satyr set a bowl of soup with unidentifiable chunks of meat floating in it in front of her. When the satyr was gone, she muttered something else under her breath, but I didn¡¯t catch it.


    When all the food had been set, Seppo grunted and clanked to his feet. He scowled down the length of the table, frowning especially at Azoria¡¯s empty seat, but brightened when his gaze reached Hasda.


    ¡°Well, my boy, you certainly did well your first Trial.¡± He clasped his hands together and beamed. ¡°I¡¯ve heard great things about your exploits, and you¡¯ve certainly done us all proud.¡± Glancing down at Kydon, he arched a brow. ¡°I trust you have no objections to his successful completion of the Trial?¡±


    The big man rose to his feet, his thick hands making the table groan as he put his weight on it. Though his protruding jaw made it look like he was scowling, he wore what was his closest approximation to a satisfied expression. Never a smile (I wasn¡¯t sure he was capable), but about as happy as he got. ¡°None, my lord. He concluded his Trial within the confines of the stipulations set forth.¡±


    ¡°Excellent.¡± Seppo grinned and clapped his hands.


    ¡°My lord, if I may,¡± Kydon continued.


    Seppo frowned. ¡°You may not.¡± After Kydon sat back down, Seppo scanned the seated gods, drawing out the silence. His hissing pistons almost hid his sigh. ¡°It is unfortunate that this celebration should be marred by a serious calamity befalling our people. You may have noticed certain gods absent among us, who would not normally be so remiss.¡± His eyes found Malia and me. ¡°I doubt you¡¯ve felt anything yet, since as of yet there¡¯s no war to speak of, but soon there will be. Azoria and others have gone ahead to gather information. I felt it best to hear her wisdom on the matter before sending our War Gods after them.¡±


    I folded my hands in my lap and frowned as I sat back. The fact that Seppo had waited until now to make a public statement, instead of saying something privately before the feast, meant that this threat, whatever it was, was serious. I hadn¡¯t felt any itches in any of the old places, so no major battles had flared up yet, and I doubted Malia had either, else she would have said something or I might have sensed it through our bond.


    Seppo nodded. ¡°I say this now, so that we may dispel the somber atmosphere and properly enjoy the festivities. But I will need to consult with both of you tomorrow, when we¡¯ve recovered from the feast. With that out of the way, let¡¯s move on to the fun parts, shall we?¡± And just like that, he plunged headfirst into an hour-long victory monologue that was half verbal pats on the back for Hasda, half recounting similar feats other heroes had accomplished.


    From the way he detailed their exploits, I could sense his fishing for inspiration for the second Trial. Gimish, who wrestled the father of all sea serpents to win the rights to dry land for humans to live on. Nosa, who crossdressed with the help of an enchantress to steal the headdress of the Nazaroni chieftess. Acal, who stole the divine sword from the ancestors of the Ghorins. And a host of others, who accomplished such wonders as riding the great island turtle, snuffing the eight extra suns to keep the world from burning, and moving mountains to free the four hundred sons trapped beneath them.


    When he started into Zagut¡¯s story, a clang and splatter interrupted him. Jade reached across the table, her face beet-red, as she failed to catch her wine glass. Scarlet juice splashed across the platters, adding a fruity glaze to the ham between us. Fruitlessly trying to claw the drink back into her glass, she slipped into a torrent of muttered apologies until Seppo gave her a look. Hasda, to his credit, tried to help mop up the wine, but the dryads fluttered over and soaked the liquid into their leaves before he could find a cloth.


    With the mess cleaned up, Seppo finished with the tale of Yote, who bred hydras until he was forced to cull them or risk flooding the world, and looked none too pleased to have concluded his speech still at a loss for what to do next. He put on a brave face, however, spread his arms, and blessed the food, which most of us had halved during his long-winded oration.


    Though the meat sizzled and the gravy tingled my taste buds, I couldn¡¯t help but notice how often Hasda ducked his head and whispered down at his chestplate. It reminded me of an interrogation, but not one Hasda was directing. That djinn had a nosy streak to rival Malia, and who knew what his intentions were. Not being from our pantheon and recently re-imprisoned, it was unlikely they were anything but pure.


    Hasda was a good lad, and I trusted him not to reveal anything too damaging, but I didn¡¯t trust that he had the experience to discern between harmless and Trojan questions.


    Malia noticed the conversation as well and gave me a loaded look. Thankfully, though, she held her peace and silently committed to waiting out the feast before unleashing her own torrent of questions on the djinn. The air hanging over the meal was subdued, even with Seppo¡¯s prodding for joviality, and without Ulti¡¯s spectacular dance to usher in the night, the revelers departed for their nocturnal roosts in unnerving silence.

 Chapter 30: "The Proposition"

    The next day, Malia and I followed Seppo into his cloud-floored chamber to discuss whatever Azoria was investigating. Despite Malia¡¯s reluctance, we left Hasda and Jade to themselves. Hasda had mentioned something about visiting the recovering tiger, and they¡¯d disappeared together from the feast in the early hours of the morning. Seppo had concluded the feast later that morning with vague promises of another when the time came to announce the Second Trial, and then asked Malia and I to accompany him back to his throne room.


    He now paced in front of his throne, kicking up tufts of clouds as he clanked back and forth. His frown from last night had returned, but deeper than before. Malia stood with her arms crossed, tracing his circuits with her eyes. Her flicking tail betrayed her annoyance more than the set of her mouth, but she wouldn¡¯t say anything about being kept waiting.


    I would, though. ¡°All right, Seppo. We¡¯ve given you plenty of time to get your thoughts in order. At this rate, your gears are going to rust shut before you get on with it.¡±


    He grunted and waved his hand as he passed in front of his throne. ¡°It¡¯s a lot more complicated than you think.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know enough to have any thoughts on the matter.¡± I shrugged. ¡°You haven¡¯t even told us exactly what the matter is.¡±


    He scowled as he retraced his steps. ¡°Azoria is taking the measure of our opposition.¡±


    ¡°We knew that,¡± Malia said, frowning at the cotton ball clouds stirred up with each pass. One floated into her face and she blew it away. ¡°The Ghorins finally established a pantheon?¡±


    ¡°Much worse,¡± Seppo said, his neck pistons hissing as he shook his head. ¡°Much, much worse than that.¡±


    I scrunched my eyebrows together. Why would that be a bad thing? Malia had been eyeing those elven druids for centuries, trying to finagle them under our influence for decades. If they had gods we could interact with, we could forge alliances, but with their shamanism and worship of primordial forces, it was hard to connect our cultures for coalitions without dominating them into subservience. Not that Malia would balk at that, but without gods they¡¯d be harder to control.


    ¡°So it¡¯s not the Ghorins?¡± Malia said. ¡°I thought¡­¡±


    ¡°No, we have far greater concerns than some nature-loving druids in loincloths.¡± It would have been funny if Seppo didn¡¯t look so deadly serious.


    I sighed. ¡°All right, give us a list of prioritized threats.¡±


    He paused at the end of one of his passes, hands on his hips as he scowled at the tufts of cloud disintegrating in the steam jets venting from his exoskeleton. ¡°Well...I¡¯m going to succumb to bias and go with the one that affects me personally the most.¡±


    We both waited for a moment, but when Seppo said nothing Malia rolled her eyes and threw her hands up. ¡°Just spit it out, you rusty old automaton.¡±


    With his back to her, she couldn¡¯t see the pained expression that flitted across his face, but I did. He mastered himself as he turned around, though, and she was none the wiser. ¡°I¡¯ve been given a marriage proposition.¡±


    Malia blinked, and I felt my jaw fall open. We both stared at him dumbly.


    ¡°A...a what?¡± Malia finally managed.


    ¡°A proposal.¡±


    ¡°By who?¡±


    ¡°Jade. Well, that¡¯s what they implied, anyways.¡± His frown deepened, and he resumed his pacing. ¡°But she wasn¡¯t the one who propositioned. The Paedens sent one of their sages, an Apkalla, to deliver the message.¡± He shrugged. ¡°He didn¡¯t mention Jade by name, but he said their pantheon had ¡®serious grievances¡¯ with ours over some miscellaneous slights, and they were willing to overlook them if we were to join together through a union of some sorts. He suggested that I was already familiar with the minor deity they had in mind.¡±


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    I scratched the corner of my jaw. ¡°Surely Jade wouldn¡¯t agree to that, assuming she even responds to their attempt at exerting their authority over her.¡±


    ¡°Not to mention that such an alliance would make our pantheon pay homage to theirs,¡± Malia said. She narrowed her eyes. ¡°But that¡¯s not everything, is it? I¡¯m noticing a distinct lack of reference to our Oracles¡¯ auguries.¡±


    Seppo shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re right. They¡¯re completely blind to the Paedens. Motives, movements, what have you, they can¡¯t get a single reading. Synnefo said Zephyrus thinks the Paeden Seers, priests similar to our Oracles, are interfering.¡±


    ¡°How is that possible?¡± I massaged my temples. The situation wasn¡¯t even that complicated yet, by Malia¡¯s standards anyways, but the lines were already blurring together and my head decided it wanted to act its age again.


    ¡°Who knows.¡± He shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s part of what Azoria is investigating down south.¡±


    ¡°Where, exactly, down south?¡± Malia asked, narrowing her eyes. ¡°There¡¯s a whole trail of breadcrumbs in this mess, and if you don¡¯t start picking them up I¡¯m going to rub your face in them.¡±


    Seppo whirled at the end of his circuit and double-timed his way through three more paces, puffing furiously. ¡°All right, fine! Paeden warriors have been migrating into Aenea for the past few months. They¡¯ve secured a hold on the river delta and begun taxing the Aeneans on both their fishing and crops. But they¡¯ve made no moves against the Carthians downriver, and our people have seemingly conceded dominance of the region to them.¡±


    Well, wasn¡¯t that a mess. Aenea was a fertile region that stretched along the banks of the Barca river, which snaked its way from some unknown source to the Great Sea that filled the hollow in the middle of the earth. Carthians had conquered almost all habitable territory that abutted this Sea, save for the lands in the east held by the Paedens.


    The Aeneans and Paedens had a shared ancestry, and had once served under the Paedens, so the latter¡¯s claim on the region was arguably stronger than ours. But, from the sounds of it, they¡¯d reconquered parts of the territory not by force, but by trade and taxes. And if the Carthians and Aeneans were cooperating with them, that would make it far more difficult to accuse the Paedens of a hostile invasion.


    Not that saving face before the Paeden pantheon mattered, but our own acolytes might take less kindly to wanton slaughter and conquest over what they¡¯d perceive as the peaceful reclamation of forefathers¡¯ ancient homelands. Not theirs, of course, but who could fault the Paedens for wanting to return to their roots? And if the cohabitation was mutually beneficial, even more reason to further it. Of course, it would result in loss of land, authority, and prestige for the Carthians, not to mention forfeiting our own claims and established history in the region.


    So if the Carthians were acquiescing, either they were short on supplies and stranded from acquiring more, or the Paedens had offered them something they couldn¡¯t possibly resist. And with the Oracles blinded against Paeden activities, we had no way of finding out from afar what the true nature of the situation was. Sending Azoria was a prudent move, since she¡¯d have the foresight to perceive what we needed and return without sparking a war.


    But something was off, and I couldn¡¯t quite place what it was.


    ¡°You said they¡¯ve been taxing the Carthians for months?¡± I said.


    Seppo nodded.


    ¡°How long have the Oracles been silent about Aenea?¡±


    Malia¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°Longer than that. Phemonoe said her scrying pool was like muddied water a week before the earliest confirmed arrival of the Paedens. At the time, she wasn¡¯t sure which region was obscured, only that somewhere was. We only figured out it was Aenea when they were late on their sacrifices.¡±


    The highest Oracle had a clouded pool? I couldn¡¯t remember a time when Phemonoe hadn¡¯t been able to scry a region, and I had a longer memory than Malia.


    ¡°What of the mortal Oracles in Aenea? Rhea and Diona?¡±


    Seppo sighed and shook his head. ¡°Silent, but not as long as that. Diona managed to get a garbled message through, but with the interference, it made no sense.¡±


    ¡°So we just need to expunge whatever blasphemer has inhibited our Oracles,¡± Malia said, her eyes alight. ¡°I¡¯m sure Azoria will discover them, if they¡¯re in Aenea.¡±


    ¡°And she will not be turning them over to you,¡± Seppo said, ¡°until Kydon has properly questioned them. That is, assuming they¡¯re not Paedens or under Paeden protection. Abducting foreign sorcerers, even foreign ones interfering in our affairs, could initiate a conflict between us and the Paedens, and I want to be wholly prepared before taking up arms against them.¡±


    The niggling thought burst like a bubble in the back of my mind and brought along an unwelcome friend.


    ¡°Seppo, did you send Thane with Azoria?¡±


    He scowled. ¡°Of course not! Why would I be so stupid as to do that? I¡¯d have to be expecting significant death, either of an important figure or sufficient quantity, to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then where is he?¡±


    ¡°How should I know?¡± Seppo spluttered. He waved his arms in the air. ¡°I don¡¯t babysit the lot of you. If I tried to supervise each of your movements, I¡¯d be ripping out what little hair I have left.¡± He flailed a hand towards Malia. ¡°Why don¡¯t you ask her? She probably has him on some secret mission she conveniently forgot to inform all of us about.¡±


    Malia raised an eyebrow. ¡°While I appreciate the compliment, your faith in my abilities is misplaced, this time.¡±


    Seppo scowled. ¡°Well, if you don¡¯t know, how am I supposed to?¡±


    Malia opened her mouth to reply, then frowned as she slapped at her neck. Her eyes went wide as she dropped her hand, and she stared at her fingers. Still shocked, she looked up at me.


    I nodded. ¡°Yeah, I felt it too.¡±


    ¡°Oh no.¡±


    ¡°What, ¡®Oh no?¡¯¡± Seppo snapped.


    When that backstage thought had finally cemented, it¡¯d brought with it an annoying little itch at the base of my skull. A sensation that only happened on the eve of a big battle.


    I sighed. ¡°I think you should have kept better track of your God of Death.¡±

 Chapter 31: "The Jewel"

    The landscapes of the maas passed by with increasing frequency as we made our way south to Aenea. Deserts, savannas, forests, salt-encrusted ocean beaches¡ªeverything blurred together after our fourth transfer, and I couldn¡¯t be bothered to try recalling all their names. We spend the mad dash hashing out all the potential scenarios we could encounter in Aenea. Most involved some variation of an all-out brawl between Carthia and Paedaea, courtesy of Malia¡¯s bloodthirsty tunnel vision.


    What was more concerning than her bellicose desire for bloodshed was the telepathic silence from the region. With both Thane and Azoria presumably in Aenea, we should have been able to make contact and get at least their bare bones assessment of what was happening, but none of us could penetrate the murky psychic fog covering the continent.


    And this haze was different from that which covered most lands outside our control. Unlike the passive mist that hid distant, undiscovered lands from our vision unless we pried, this fog actively resisted our efforts and exuded an aura of antagonism and malice whenever we pushed too much. Even Malia, who was usually so good at circumventing privacy wards, couldn¡¯t make a dent in its obfuscation.


    The worst part was we had to skip the exits in several maas to come out behind Karnak, the chief upriver Carthian city. Though the city was situated far inland, the Barca River flowed opposite every other river, south to north instead of vice versa. Effectively, it spilled upside down into the Great Sea and made navigational terms confusing for those unacquainted with its normally charming oddity. As it was, I couldn¡¯t help but be annoyed at the entire circumstance. Karnak had been built at the furthest traversable point of the river, seated in the shadow of thunderous falls that defied all attempts at scaling and sailing.


    However, the source of our troubles lay in the river delta, and since we couldn¡¯t teleport via the maas we¡¯d have to either sail down the river or travel on foot, grappling with the lush vegetation on the banks. Malia could theoretically fly ahead, but with two other gods vanished and unresponsive in the masking mist, we voted against splitting the party. The muggy air of the current maas blended seamlessly with the humid heat baking Karnak, and I almost didn¡¯t notice our transition back into the mortal plane.


    Karnak sparkled like a jewel carelessly discarded by the cascading cataracts. Sandy-bricked buildings ringed the city¡¯s central temple, a massive marble affair with pillars coated in hieroglyphs depicting Aenean deities. Rows of sphinxes flanked the brick piers, stretching away from the limestone pylon that towered over the road that led from the docks to the city proper. Monsters of all kinds had been etched into the gate¡¯s square sides, ranging from the more modern pegasi and hydras to the formless, primal creatures that once terrorized the Aeneans. The architecture of Karnak mimicked the integrated mythos of the pylon, blending Aenean and Carthian designs in a way that contrasted the softer desert curves with the harsher forest lines without putting the two at odds.


    But the countenances of the dust-streaked people bore only hard edges as they milled about the markets. If any god had thought to claim frowns as their domain, they would have found worshippers aplenty on the streets of Karnak. The mishmash of dress styles displayed no signs of foreign influence, no striking colors or clothes amiss to betray any outsiders, Paedens or otherwise. Passerby traveled with heavy shoulders and bent necks, barely grumbling greetings to each other as they made their way about their errands. While I would never have described the city as jovial, it had succumbed to a somber atmosphere that seemed baked into the earth by the oppressive heat.


    Seppo, Malia, and I descended just outside the pylon, enshrouding ourselves beneath our Veils as we passed beneath the stone archway. Unseen, we passed through the crowd¡ªsometimes quite literally¡ªas we made our way towards the temple. It had been dedicated to Resef for the fertile floods the Barca provided every spring, and hopefully his Oracle would have some answers for why she¡¯d been silent and the people were so downcast. But an aura of foreboding settled over us as we approached and found the temple fires unlit, the altars empty of sacrifice and the air free of incense.


    No priests greeted us as we ascended the steps of the temple. Although we were Veiled, they would have sensed us, if they¡¯d been around to feel our presence. But as we passed into the shadow of the roof, we found the temple bare of acolytes and clergy alike. Our footsteps rebounded with hollow echoes as we walked through the empty temple. I could feel a chill grip the small of my back as we went further in, a premonition that thoroughly unnerved me.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The temple had an air of recent abandonment to it. While no god would ignore such a catastrophe, Resef was busy with Vrixia and would be for some time. Together they would ensure the Carthian lands received proper rainfall to sustain their crops, and though Aenea was an important Carthian holding, it wasn¡¯t the only one. Plus, the couple had lost ground to make up in, uh, more personal domains with their recent reunion. With Seppo already here investigating, it made sense Resef hadn¡¯t joined us, but it was still confusing that he hadn¡¯t mentioned anything before.


    I shrugged to myself. Maybe I¡¯d missed the part where he¡¯d brought it up, since Malia and the others already seemed to know about the problem with the Oracles. And Azoria had been doing her own investigation as well, not to mention any other divine efforts I was ignorant of due to my retirement. I sighed. Playing catch-up got old fast, and only made me feel all the older. My thoughts were interrupted by Malia¡¯s gasp as we reached the inner temple chamber.


    Passed out on the floor by the central altar was a short, emaciated servant girl. Her thin brown robes clung to her as if she¡¯d spent days running in the rain, although the floor around her was dry. Crimson stains soiled the wrinkles of her hood from twin punctures in her neck, and more blood streaked the altar, not from sacrifices, but from ragged wounds on her left wrist, which lay closest to the altar. She was deathly pale, if not from the injuries then the blood loss.


    We all went alert simultaneously, and the sudden bursts of power as we quested for hidden assailants were like thunderclaps on my ribs. Malia surged towards the girl as Seppo went left and I went right. Every nerve taut, I scanned each pillar, looking for some telltale sign of who had done this. With the sun reaching its zenith, few shadows remained to hide enemies, but nothing looked amiss around any of the carved columns. No scratch marks, no bites, no out of place chips or cracks. Whatever paranoia had been festering in the back of my mind exploded a hundred fold as my thoughts raced to find some trace of god or monster with such attack patterns.


    The girl had been ambushed. Bite marks on the neck, most likely fangs, some kind of bloodsucker. Ghouls rarely attacked the living in such a way. If it had been a naga, there wouldn¡¯t be a body at all. Some kind of vampiric spirit, then, but what creature left its victim so drenched? Unless that was Resef¡¯s doing, but then how would his protective wardings allow such an attack in the first place? And that still didn¡¯t explain the gashes on her wrist¡­


    My mind stumbled over that last part as I rounded on the altar. Flecks of blood tainted a ceremonial dagger that lay on the backside of the dias, more streaks of the girl¡¯s blood smeared across the altar, only much more intentional than the slash on the front.


    Oh.


    If the Oracles had been silent for months, then it was possible that Resef¡¯s passive wards had run low, or completely out, without a priestess to maintain them. That would allow a malevolent power to invade his sacred place unobstructed. And this foolhardy girl, likely too lowborn to have much training, thought to fulfill the duties of an anointed Oracle herself and found them too much. Or maybe she succeeded, miming rituals she¡¯d seen day in and day out, but had been interrupted by the fell intruder. That would explain the water, and why the girl wasn¡¯t completely gone.


    And she wasn¡¯t. As Malia hovered over her, massaging her shoulders and thumping her back, the girl began to cough and wheeze. Her whole body jerked in Malia¡¯s arms, shivers wracking her body and threatening to pitch her onto the ground. Malia gritted her teeth and held on, careful to keep the girl¡¯s head from smacking into her. Gods knew the last thing the poor girl needed was a severed tongue.


    When the girl¡¯s eyes fluttered open, she gave a pitiful shriek that lacked strength. She flinched away and tried to push away from Malia but crumpled as soon as she put any weight on her injured arms. She whimpered something about a ¡°derketo¡± before collapsing into unconsciousness. Malia gave me a bewildered look and Seppo shrugged.


    Well, if they didn¡¯t know I certainly wouldn¡¯t. Derketo wasn¡¯t something that drew up any spectral memories, but whatever it was, it didn¡¯t sound pleasant. Malia gathered the withered girl in her arms, and we followed her down to the bedchambers beneath the temple. It¡¯d take a bit of forced healing to get the girl recovered enough to provide us with the information we needed, but we had to be careful not to overdo it, lest we tax the girl¡¯s system into total failure.


    I frowned as Malia gently laid her on a wrinkled bed. Who knew how much blood the girl had lost? She seemed delirious for the brief moment she¡¯d come awake, which didn¡¯t bode well. And the terror that had gripped her when she saw Malia...it was as if she were still under assault. Hopefully her mind wasn¡¯t damaged as well. Messing with the office of an Oracle, untrained, could take a serious toll. And that was assuming the derketo, if that¡¯s what had attacked her, hadn¡¯t dealt any psionic damage either.


    I sighed. So many unknowns. It would be nice to have the Oracle here, to help explain things, but then if she¡¯d been here, we wouldn¡¯t be having these problems.

 Chapter 32: "The Awakening"

    We spent the better part of the night and most of the morning magically healing the girl. And by ¡°we,¡± I mean Malia, with Seppo and I checking in on them periodically to make sure everything was okay. Though Thane¡¯s absence would have been reassuring, normally, the fact that neither he nor Azoria had revealed themselves was more than disconcerting. At the very least we should have been shooing him off the girl while we tried to save her, to say nothing of the failure of propriety that was his not greeting the head of his pantheon.


    And Azoria would¡¯ve never fumbled such a responsibility. With the absence of our gods, the gloom suffocating the city, and the attack on an Oracle-less temple, I had a choir¡¯s worth of alarm bells going off in my head. The whole thing reeked of conspiracy. With the Paedens making moves, first in the north, and now here, I¡¯d have laid celestial steel on this being their fault. But until we had the servant girl stabilized and gathered more information, we had nothing to go on.


    So Seppo and I spent the hours passing each other in the halls beneath the temple, like cordless pendulums as we swung back and forth, in and out of the bedchambers where Malia toiled. And it was a struggle for her. None of us specialized in healing, but with her shifting towards the more delicate side of war, field dressing gave her the closest approximation to proper medicine out of our trio. Seppo had devised no mending machines, and I...well, I was really good at crushing things. The servant girl needed a much lighter hand than mine.


    We knew the healing had finished when the girl¡¯s screams pierced the cool morning air. I beat Seppo to the door and burst into the room, Seppo hissing and puffing behind me.


    Wings flared, Malia was doing her best to wrangle the deathly-pale girl back onto the bed. Eyes popping with panic, the servant girl thrashed in Malia¡¯s arms, kicking the blanket into a tangled mess and nearly pitching onto the floor after it. Malia hissed in frustration and pinned the girl to the cot. The girl¡¯s shrieks subsided as she burned through her breaths, ratcheting closer to hyperventilation and unconsciousness.


    ¡°Give me a hand?¡± Malia hissed through clenched teeth.


    The girl kicked and twisted some more as Seppo and I held her down. Her bug-eyes were fixed on Malia, her pupils dilating until her eyes were nearly black. The rank odor of dark magic filled the room, making my nose itch and the back of my throat inflate. She gave one more hitched breath, coughed, and collapsed. Fingers twitching, she finally settled, though the panic attack left her looking even weaker.


    Malia scowled as she stood up. ¡°The stupid wretch started screaming as soon as she woke up. She''s lost so much blood, it''s a wonder she could even fight like she did.¡±


    I sighed as I straightened. ¡°Have you figured out what¡¯s wrong with her?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Malia bared her fangs as she backed away from the unconscious girl. ¡°I haven¡¯t made any headway on those bite marks beyond discovering they reek of rotten fish.¡±


    Seppo echoed the statement as he leaned over to smell the girl¡¯s neck. He¡¯d barely taken a whiff when he jerked back, piston steam barely masking his gagging. Eyebrows lifted nearly off his face, he shook his head in disbelief. ¡°That is rank.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Malia pursed her lips. ¡°I can¡¯t find any trace of sorcery, so I¡¯d wager whatever was in the bite was purely natural. Most likely some kind of toxin to knock the prey unconscious for easier transportation.¡±


    ¡°Hence why we found her lying on the floor, sopping wet,¡± I said. ¡°Well, half dead isn¡¯t much of an improvement, but it¡¯s something.¡±


    Malia shot me a glare. ¡°You watch your tongue, you old bag.¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I arched a brow. ¡°Bad mood?¡±


    ¡°What do you think?¡± she snapped. ¡°I¡¯ve just spent hours trying to stabilize this idiot mortal, only to have her shit herself the moment she comes anywhere near awake and undo who knows how much progress I managed to cobble together. I¡¯m not a healer, and I still don¡¯t know who did this or why. Not to mention¡ª¡±


    ¡°We get it,¡± I said, holding up a hand to forestall further ranting. ¡°None of us like going in blind. And you can¡¯t spin your webs when you¡¯ve nothing to anchor them on.¡±


    She huffed and folded her arms as she leaned against the wall. ¡°Stupid, ungrateful girl. You¡¯d think, from the way she acted, that she was afraid of me.¡±


    ¡°Why would she fear you?¡± Seppo asked. He leaned over the girl again and prodded around the bites on her neck and under the curve of her jaw.


    ¡°How should I know?¡± Malia was doing little to keep the exasperation from her voice. From all the effort she¡¯d been putting into the girl¡¯s healing, only to have it undone so quickly, must have been testing the limits of her patience. Eyes flashing, she shot me a look. ¡°And don¡¯t you dare insinuate anything unpleasant regarding my appearance. I hear one untoward word out of your mouth and I¡¯m going to use what¡¯s left of your hide for my next scroll.¡±


    ¡°That would make for a short diary, my dear.¡±


    She rolled her eyes.


    Seppo grunted and righted himself, his exoskeleton misting the girl¡¯s arms and face as it vented steam. ¡°Remarkable. For fang bites, those punctures are surprisingly ragged.¡±


    My eyebrows scrunched as I frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Well, see here.¡± Seppo shifted the girl¡¯s head to expose her neck. The two punctures were inflamed, the edges of the wounds inflated and uneven, like volcano craters. Dried blood crusted the puffy skin, but the bites themselves¡ªthumb-sized holes¡ªhad yet to scab over. Seppo¡¯s eyes glinted with scientific fascination as he examined the wounds. ¡°The skin surrounding both perforations is uneven, as if the fangs were serrated. If the teeth were intended to just inject venom, it makes no sense for them to have any irregularities on the surface. But these wounds are jagged, almost as if the fangs were barbed¡­¡±


    ¡°That rules out anything viperine, then,¡± Malia said. Her snakes rattled as she shook her head. ¡°Vampiric, too. You¡¯d want to release your prey after subduing it, and if your fangs are how you feed, the last thing you want is your prey fighting back and you losing your ability to catch and eat food.¡±


    ¡°Unless you needed to pierce thick skin,¡± I said. Disparate threads were slowly tying themselves together in the back of my mind, but they hadn¡¯t quite connected yet.


    Malia quirked a brow. ¡°You think whatever this was needs to latch on to its victims?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I can¡¯t shake the feeling that, whatever our predator is, it¡¯s well outside its normal environment. And not just with its prey.¡± I gestured towards the sleeping girl. ¡°Obviously her skin isn¡¯t thick enough to justify saw teeth. But where would?¡±


    Seppo squatted on the bed next to the girl and drummed his fingers on his leg pistons. ¡°Armored prey, like the tortoise-toads of the distant east.¡±


    ¡°Or scaled, like the dragons, or hydras, or...fish.¡± Malia¡¯s eyes met mine. ¡°So we¡¯re dealing with something from the depths.¡±


    ¡°It would explain why they attacked our ocean god.¡± I shrugged. ¡°And why they¡¯d need to latch onto prey to feed.¡±


    Malia¡¯s face pinched in a frown. ¡°But it¡¯d need to be amphibious, unless the water in the temple was evidence of its magic, and not Resef¡¯s wards. What do you think?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s been too long since I was last in one of his temples, and the magical manipulation was too old for me to pick up any scents.¡±


    ¡°It was Resef¡¯s, all right,¡± Seppo said, nodding. ¡°But I can¡¯t guarantee there weren¡¯t any alien augments to it. If our ambusher was aquatic, it could have hijacked his wards to support its attack.¡± His fingers plied the air as he began drawing on his own magic. Thin, silver tubes stretched between his fingertips, twisting together as he bent his hands. When he had a fist-sized spool of the strands, he stood up and bent over the girl. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking on her injuries, and I might be able to devise something to suture these wounds. There are psychotropic crystals as well. Perhaps one of those could aid her.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d know more about that than we would,¡± Malia said.


    ¡°Jade might, too.¡± I ignored Malia¡¯s pointed glare. ¡°We¡¯ll fetch her from Nebesa, see if she knows any¡ª¡±


    The earth shook as waterfalls thundered in the temple above us. Fierce, angry shrieks clashed with the drumming of the waterfalls, cries that warbled as the water fought to wash their source away. Malia and I were out the door and up the stairs in a heartbeat.


    We stumbled and coughed as we reached the inner temple court. The scent of salt sat thick upon the air, choking in its intensity. Water so salinated it crackled surged across the floor, battering a lump of juniper green tentacles against the altar. The unearthly cries came from the waterlogged creature, which squawked every time it collided with the unforgiving stones. The air tingled with Resef¡¯s magic as columns of water crashed from the ceiling as the wards sought to crush the intruder.


    All we could do was watch as the temple safeguards beat against the creature. The magic kept the dense saltwater contained in the chamber, which rose against invisible barriers to obstruct every doorway. It seemed our ambusher had saved us the trouble of hunting him down, but we needed Resef¡¯s wards to calm down before we could get a better look at it.

 Chapter 33: "The Derketo"

    The temple defenses showed no signs of calming anytime soon. White flecks of foam and salt dusted the air like snowfall, the saline scent clogging our nostrils and crushing our chests. The atmosphere was beyond oppressive, making it hard to breathe. Resef¡¯s wards had found their full potential again, and it was unpleasant to experience second-hand.


    I could only imagine how the ensnared intruder felt. Tossed about like a dog¡¯s plaything, the creature flailed as the granulated waves raged in an angry vortex. With all the chaotic motion, it was hard to tell what the creature was, exactly, but it had arms, a humanoid torso, and thick tentacles in place of hair, all covered by a slimy, gray-green skin. It gurgled hisses as it fought to clear the cloying water, but the temple wards were loath to relinquish their catch.


    After several minutes of unrelenting spiraling crushed beneath the water, the creature finally passed out and spun like driftwood through the dense saltwater. With each revolution, the water level receded an inch, the liquid vanishing down some hidden drain. As the last of the saline waves washed away, the creature settled onto the damp temple floor, caked in salt crystals.


    Before we had a chance to ponder the frosted figure, Malia pounced and pinned the intruder beneath her. Wings flared, fangs bared, she snarled down as the creature awoke and thrashed beneath her. Clumps of salt flew everywhere, sticking to Maila¡¯s face and arms, catching Seppo and me with smatterings that made it past her wings. The pair fought for control, but since Malia hadn¡¯t been sent through a watery salt grinder for nearly an hour, she was far more rested and had the added advantage of reacting first.


    Keeping myself between the creature and Seppo, I crept into the room, keeping my weight on my toes in case Malia needed me. The thing beneath her was strange, its lower body not quite a fish tail, almost as if it had shoved human legs inside a silky, scale-covered bag. In place of feet, however, it had fish fins, the delicate webbing shredded from its scouring. Thicker webbing, which reminded me of frog feet, stretched between the clawed fingers it swiped at Malia. Its face was gaunt, sharp cheekbones protruding almost like spikes from its face. Scuffed white film peeled off its eyes as it blinked, revealing inky eyes that were all pupils. Sharp fangs lined its mouth, the top canines so long they threatened to protrude even when its mouth was closed.


    Its head tentacles were thicker than Malia¡¯s snakes and hung about the same length. The creature didn¡¯t seem to have conscious control over them, however, as they flopped about while the creature fought off Malia. It lunged to bite her arm, and I had my Sword between its teeth before it connected. I ratcheted the blade up its teeth, locking its jaw open as it hissed around the metal. The thing was slippery, the salt turning to mush as mucus oozed from its rubbery skin. I pushed against my Sword, trying to force its head back, but the stupid tentacles squished and squirmed and made pinning it impossible.


    ¡°Clear!¡± Malia snapped.


    I slipped my Sword out of its mouth and ducked sideways as she jammed an arrow into its chest, close to its shoulder under the clavicle. She had to put her full weight behind that thrust and nearly snapped the shaft in the process, but she managed to pierce its skin nevertheless. It must have been a poisoned arrow, for the moment the head slipped beneath the surface the skin bleached white, drying up and shriveling as the poison radiated from the wound.


    ¡°Speak,¡± Malia hissed, pressing another arrowhead in the hollow of its jaw. ¡°Or I will make your end excruciatingly painful.¡±


    ¡°Ssssssstupid godssss,¡± it sighed around the sharp point, its breathing labored. ¡°You know not what you do.¡±


    ¡°I think we do,¡± I said, towering over the dying creature. ¡°You invaded our temple, attacked our followers.¡±


    ¡°Not yoursssss,¡± it hissed, its eyes flashing. Malia pressed the arrow closer and it snarled, tried to jerk away. ¡°Not yours.¡±


    ¡°Our pantheon.¡± Malia tightened her grip on the creature. ¡°What did you do with the rest of the supplicants in this temple?¡±


    It smiled at her, its fangs glistening. ¡°Look at the worm, bait for the fish. But it thinks itself a bird, and blasphemes the holy Apkalla by wearing wings and scales.¡± It coughed a laugh. ¡°They will roast your soul slowly in Damnation, and savor the aroma of your tortured screams.¡±


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    I set a hand on Malia¡¯s shoulder. The mucus had started steaming, her anger bleeding into her Gaze as she evaporated it. Shaking her head, she bared her teeth at the dying creature. ¡°The Apkalla are pathetically weak. I almost fell asleep the last time I fought one.¡± She half-turned towards me, keeping her eyes on the pinned creature. ¡°What did he call himself? The firstborn? Preeminent something or other.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Something along those lines. He wasn¡¯t very memorable.¡±


    ¡°Fools.¡± The creature hissed. ¡°You heap up your damnation with your irreverence.¡±


    ¡°And you chatter too much for someone about to die,¡± Malia spat. ¡°As weak as you are, you couldn¡¯t have breached this temple on your own. Are there more of you? Who is your patron god?¡±


    Its grin was maniacal, its sanity seeming to bleed away as the white flaking of its skin spread across its chest and up its neck. ¡°Wallow in ignorance while its bliss remains. Soon, you will know the yoke of Galamma. Maybe he could find room in his harem for a bitch like yo¡ª¡±


    Silent, Malia snapped his neck. Her wings shivered with fury as she shoved off the creature and stormed across the room, away from the corpse. Vanishing my Sword, I followed after her. ¡°Malia¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she snapped. Nostrils flaring, she pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers and huffed. ¡°I know we could have extracted more information if I¡¯d left him alive. Bastard got under my skin.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I rubbed her shoulders, kneading the tension out of her muscles. ¡°The only reason I didn¡¯t was you did it first.¡±


    A couple moments of physical contact later, and a soft cough came from the doorway. ¡°If we could, perhaps¡­¡±


    I hid a smile as Malia and I separated. Poor Seppo. ¡°Apologies, S¡ª¡±


    His hand hissed steam as he waved the comment away. ¡°I just had an idea, and I wanted to get it out before I forgot it. An artificial, psionic vampire to siphon the servant girl¡¯s fevered dreams.¡±


    Malia and I blinked at the head of our pantheon.


    He scowled. ¡°Don¡¯t give me that look. You were practically hanging all over each other a moment before, you can humor me with my idea.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that,¡± I said, shaking my head.


    Malia nodded. ¡°We need further elaboration on such a...unique idea.¡±


    Seppo grunted and swung out of the room. ¡°Come to the girl¡¯s room, then, and I¡¯ll explain it. Psionic vampire contraption, don¡¯t forget!¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t.¡± I shifted around Malia to collect the corpse of the creature.


    ¡°And bring the¡ªoh.¡± Seppo paused in the doorway. When he saw me lift the body, he jerked a nod. ¡°Right.¡± And with that, he pushed off down the hall.


    ¡°There¡¯s an empty room next to the girl¡¯s.¡± Malia tucked her wings as she ducked through the doorway after Seppo. ¡°I¡¯ll give the body a once-over while you decipher whatever whimsy has gripped Seppo this time.¡±


    The corpse was a rubbery mess that oozed slime. Clumps of snotty salt squished between my fingers as I carried the body through the temple, and the stench of dead fish clung to me long after I¡¯d deposited it in the room next door. Malia kept her nose turned away as she brushed past me as I came in.


    Even Seppo gagged a bit when the smell spilled into the room. He pushed up from the bedside and fanned the air in front of his face.


    ¡°That bad, huh?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you smell it?¡±


    I gave him an evil grin and tapped my nose. ¡°Not if I don¡¯t want to. Blunted my nose since I had to carry the blasted thing, haven¡¯t reopened it yet.¡±


    He scowled. ¡°Well, could you do something about the smell?¡±


    ¡°I could.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But the best solution would be a bath in the springs of Maas Taeful, and I don¡¯t think you want me running all the way back just because of a little stink.¡±


    Seppo frowned, clearly nonplussed.


    I smiled, unable to help myself. Of course, I could probably magic away the smell, but with my nose plugged, I could also end up replacing it with something worse, like the stench of a rotting corpse. Given my not-so-distant state of disrepair, it was an all too likely outcome. And I didn¡¯t think he¡¯d take too kindly to me exacerbating the situation. To get his mind off the smell, I said, ¡°So what about this new machine you¡¯ve envisioned?¡±


    ¡°Which one?¡± His eyebrows scrunched as he struggled to recall.


    ¡°The psionic vampire?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes!¡± His eyes flashed as his fingers whirred through the air, drawing schematics in the air that only he could see. ¡°The fangs of that creature gave me the inspiration. See, if I construct a copper circlet and use it to affix two crystals¡ªcerulean often has the highest psionic affinity¡ªto bleed whatever negative mental energy and memories are still plaguing her. It¡¯ll store the memories in another crystal reservoir, most likely quartz, since we don¡¯t want the memories escaping. And with the detrimental aura leached away, she¡¯ll hopefully be able to fully recuperate.¡±


    That was the jist of what he said, anyways, or at least as close as I could ascertain. If he¡¯d been spouting off about siege engines, I¡¯d have understood him with ease, but for a god with less medical background than he probably should have before beginning such an undertaking, he was using terms that most likely made sense only to him, even if I¡¯d had the knowledge to understand them.


    He¡¯d just launched into a detailed delineation of the theoretical underpinnings for his ¡°copper mind fangs¡± when Malia shrieked in the next room over. Her aura bloomed, washing our room in warmth before quickly receding back the way it came. A moment later, a soft, deep wave of power swept across the temple, answering in kind. Seppo and I shared a look, then dashed from the room.

 Chapter 34: "The Marketplace"

    I beat Seppo around the corner and burst into the room next door to find Malia blinking in shock. The corpse had exploded beneath her, messy streamers of flesh trailing from the new hole in its chest. Bits of calamari and salt had peppered Malia¡¯s face, brown flesh and white clumps drizzled with swampy green blood. Malia gave me a disgusted look as she wiped the gore off her face.


    Seppo stumbled in after me, puffing from his exoskeleton and the sudden exertion. ¡°Is everything okay?¡±


    ¡°Quite.¡± Malia frowned as she flicked the salted guts off her hands.


    ¡°What happened?¡± I asked as I picked my way around the goo-coated scales splattered on the floor.


    Malia huffed. ¡°I was dredging its mind for any useful information when the bastard exploded. Startled me, but nothing more.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay.¡±


    Seppo gasped as he slipped on a scale he hadn¡¯t seen and flailed his arms as he tried to catch his balance. When the steam finally settled, he was on his hands and knees, coughing and wiping at some ooze that¡¯d gotten on his face. Scowling, he picked himself up. ¡°Wretched creature,¡± he said. ¡°Did you find out anything about it?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a derketo, although the Paedens call them atargas. Conceptually, it¡¯s a cross between a merfolk and a vampire, with a bit of elder abomination thrown in for good measure.¡± Her eyebrows arched as she frowned. ¡°Not too smart on the Paedens¡¯ part, meddling with the powers of the pantheon that preceded them.¡±


    I scowled. That didn¡¯t make much sense. Although most pantheons typically had predecessors that either fell out of favor or, as was the case with ours, were overthrown to give rise to the next generation, Paedaea was one of the few regions with a host of gods so old they were thought to be the native deities. If they¡¯d had forerunners, those gods must have been ancient.


    ¡°Are you sure the Paedens had a former pantheon?¡± Seppo asked. ¡°Not even my mother knew of¡ª¡±


    ¡°The derketo didn¡¯t even know it.¡± Malia waved her hand dismissively and turned to the mutilated corpse. ¡°I found that in its genetics.¡± Her snakes hissed at the body as she scowled. ¡°Which is what caused the explosion. I didn¡¯t find much in its mind, just an instinctual direction for its nest, so when I went looking for structural weaknesses and things we could exploit in its design, it must have triggered a failsafe.¡±


    ¡°A nest, you say?¡± Seppo wiped the last of the scale goo on his pants. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t happen to be up north, in the heart of where our vision is darkest, would it?¡±


    Malia nodded, her frown dour. ¡°The very same.¡±


    At our feet, the derketo corpse hissed and steamed as the broken body began to disintegrate.


    I grunted and sidestepped away from the collapsing corpse. ¡°Any idea how many derketo are in the nest?¡±


    Malia shook her head, her snakes chittering in complaint as they bounced into each other. ¡°A lot. Not exact numbers, because the derketo¡¯s sense of scale was lacking in specifics, but enough that they could rightly be construed as an invading army.¡±


    I nodded slowly. ¡°Coupled with the one we found inside one of our temples¡­¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s time we showed the people our presence.¡± Malia¡¯s fangs glistened as her smile broadened.


    ¡°You coming with?¡± I asked Seppo as Malia exited the room.


    He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ll start work on the girl¡¯s...headdress? Circlet?¡± Brow scrunched, he shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll find a good name for it when it¡¯s finished.¡±


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    ¡°You sure you¡¯re good to be alone? Want me to head back and get someone to watch your back?¡±


    ¡°No, no.¡± He waved the suggestion away. ¡°I¡¯d prefer to work on my own. Besides, if I can¡¯t protect myself, what good am I as head of our pantheon?¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡±


    As I left the room, in the corner of my eye I saw him crouch down and rummage through the ribcage of the disintegrating body. Shivers danced along my spine. Whatever he thought useful enough to merit pulling out of that corpse, I didn¡¯t want to know.


    Malia had made her way all the way to the thoroughfare outside the temple by the time I left the temple. She¡¯d dropped her Veil and was slithering through the parting crowd like a peacock on full display. Wings flared, fangs out, she looked on the verge of turning the already petrified commoners to stone. I jogged to catch up to her.


    Jogged. Huh. Haven¡¯t done that in a while.


    ¡°Hey. Don¡¯t go wasting our own folks.¡± I settled into step beside her.


    She kept her gaze firmly ahead. ¡°I just found out there¡¯s a nest of chimeral beings that resemble my kind enough to be affronting, and they¡¯ve been feasting, unchecked, on people. In my territory.¡±


    ¡°Well, strictly speaking, Resef is responsible for¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know the technicalities.¡± Her eyes flashed, and the townsfolk gasped and plastered themselves further against the nearby buildings and decorative walls. Whispers of the ¡®war gods¡¯ fluttered like moths among the cowering people. Malia ignored them. ¡°But it¡¯s Carthian territory, and they¡¯re near enough to gorgon to constitute my problem, Resef¡¯s domain or not. So I¡¯m going to deal with them.¡±


    ¡°Mm, so you¡¯re just going to barge in there, no reconnaissance, glare at them, and they¡¯re all going to expose their bellies and declare eternal servitude to you, their new queen.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get testy with me.¡± She finally broke her angry stare at the ground, turning her furious eyes on me.


    ¡°All right, stop.¡± I put my hands on her shoulders and forced her to slow. She finally relented, giving me a sullen look. ¡°You¡¯re so rattled, I¡¯d think they crushed your brood if I didn¡¯t know better. So what is it? You lose a basket full of schemes down the river?¡±


    She hissed and bared her fangs. ¡°You¡¯re insufferable.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re about to waltz into a derketo den with zero preparation because they bear some physiological resemblance to you?¡± I couldn¡¯t help how high my eyebrows rose. ¡°Azoria and Thane are missing, the nest is in a blindzone, and you¡¯re mad enough to be blindly reckless. This isn¡¯t your first campaign. Relax, take a breath, and let¡¯s go into this together. The smart way.¡±


    She glared at me before jerking forward in a huff. ¡°Fine.¡± She was silent as she slithered forward, arms folded in a sulky manner. I hurried after her, staying in the shadow of her wings. After a moment, she said, ¡°I knew they¡¯d make a move after what we did to their Apkalla, but I didn¡¯t expect to be anticipated by a full three months.¡±


    ¡°Explain.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± She flashed me an angry look before going back to her ten-mile stare. ¡°The Paedens have been growing too strong recently, powerful enough to threaten Carthian trade routes, both in the east and on the seas. This move on Aenea, they¡¯re trying to undercut our holdings that border their territory.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°But that wouldn¡¯t weaken us that much. The Aeneans aren¡¯t a huge source of worship, since they¡¯ve only been under Carthian control since I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Since you retired, yes.¡± She shook her head. We rounded a corner, and the people milling about the road hastily made way, some hugging the stonework behind them, others prostrating themselves before us. ¡°And I know the Aeneans themselves are only a fraction of the power we glean from here and most is from the actual blood Carthians, but even losing the claim to the land could destabilize potential countermeasures.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t see how that¡¯s justification for how much you¡¯ve slipped control.¡±


    ¡°Because I expected them to retaliate against the Tingins, not stay here and insult me by sending inferior relations.¡±


    I stepped over a bowing plebeian. ¡°The timeline on that doesn¡¯t make sense. How could the Paedens be clawing at Carthian holdings to avenge the Apkalla? If they¡¯ve been here for months, they couldn¡¯t have predicted Oannes¡¯ failure, and they¡¯re haughty enough they certainly wouldn¡¯t have predicted anything but success for themselves.¡±


    Malia sighed. ¡°They¡¯re digging their heels in here, instead of pulling back like I anticipated. Apparently embarrassing and defacing their chief Sage wasn¡¯t enough to draw their ire, so I¡¯m at a loss for what would.¡±


    A slight breeze wafted the aroma of the nearby trees, a smooth, calming scent that seemed to envelop us in its smooth, woody bark. I shivered and shrugged off the strange sensation. ¡°So either they far undervalue their Apkalla, or there¡¯s something else going on here. It¡¯s not like you to tactically blunder this hard.¡±


    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t.¡± She puffed out a breath in frustration. ¡°I can¡¯t think of a single reason why they¡¯d just abandon the mines after sending an expeditionary force led by such a significant figure.¡±


    The white flagstones beneath us shifted to golden sand as we reached the outskirts of Karnak. Here, outside the city walls, merchants sat beneath colorful carpets that had been draped over tent poles to form an outdoor market. The shopgoers outside had leached a bit of the desert¡¯s irreverence, the Aeneans barely bowing at the waist if they noticed us, and the bronze-skinned Paedens ignoring us entirely. Malia narrowed her eyes at them but made no moves to reprimand them.


    I rubbed her shoulder and steered her through the market. ¡°Well, let¡¯s go find the vision barrier and then scout the nest once we¡¯re through. Maybe you¡¯ll find some clues as to what¡¯s going on, so you can weave a new web of schemes and stop being so cranky, and hopefully we¡¯ll discover Thane and Azoria while we¡¯re at it.¡±


    Although she kept frowning, I could see a glint in her eyes as her mind started turning over new possibilities. That was a good sign. I needed the calculating Malia, not the ¡®carve my name into the landscape with my eyes in a fit of rage¡¯ one. At the very least she wouldn¡¯t level the marketplace for being irreverent.


    With a sigh that made her shoulders sag, Malia cast off the last of her rage and centered herself. ¡°Okay. But when we find the derketo, I¡¯m frying the lot of them, and if they have a queen I want her head on a pike.¡±


    Well, maybe not all of her rage. I nodded, and we set off into the desert, headed for the border of our divine vision.

 Chapter 35: "The Breach"

    The journey down river wasn¡¯t particularly noteworthy. Palm trees, rushes, and cattails lined the banks, hiding frogs and locusts in their shadows. Despite the cool breeze slipping off the river, the heat steadily increased as we traveled, the humidity trapping and magnifying the heat.


    Of course we didn¡¯t find just plants on the way down, either. Long, thin fishing canoes floated on the water, occupied more by Paedens than Aeneans or Carthians the further along we went. We passed a couple lesser cities, Mari and Tyana, and scattered clusters of huts near river bends where fish tended to spawn, but nothing major¡ªlike abandoned temples¡ªto sidetrack us. The Paeden river toll station did nearly succeed in drawing Malia¡¯s ire, but I nudged her on with promises of unbridled destruction after we¡¯d confirmed the Paedens were the ones behind all the conspiracies and sabotages.


    Even with our divine speed, it still took most of the day to near the barrier that demarcated where Carthian influence ended and Paeden domination began. Invisible, the obstruction served only to impede godly beings and abilities, the fishermen on the river and in the village traveling across the unseen border with ease. The block only seemed to affect scrying, as far as vision was concerned, because Malia and I had no difficulty discerning the mortals passing by us, oblivious to our presence, as they made their way from the nearby watering hole back into the village.


    Malia squinted at the air, her nose wrinkling as she took stock of whatever ward or enchantment constituted the barrier. Gasping, she jerked back as a wing tip brushed the barrier. A scowl lined her face as she bent down and examined the point where earth and enchantment met.


    Although she had sharper senses than I did, I could still feel the effects of the barrier. If I got too close, it felt like a giant hand pressing a blanket against me. The harder I pushed, the greater the resistance. Nothing shocked me like it had Malia, and when I pressed my hand into the barrier, it was as if I¡¯d plunged my fist into the deepest fathoms of the sea, such was the cold, crushing pressure I found. I could only keep my hand inside for a moment before the pain forced me out.


    I frowned after a failed attempt to scuff my toe beneath the bottom of the block. ¡°Any ideas?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Malia pressed her lips together as she scratched at the sand. Simple equations in old runes spiraled out around her. After the numbers stopped dancing, she scowled at the answer they gave. ¡°It¡¯s like the opposite of an Oracle¡¯s vision, but manifested as a physical object on the heavenly plane.¡±


    ¡°Oracle-grade magic shouldn¡¯t be too hard to circumvent.¡± I rolled my knuckles against the barrier, letting the cool seep into my joints. ¡°Obviously it¡¯s not that simple, since it¡¯s given the pantheon several headaches.¡±


    ¡°And is still keeping us outside.¡± Malia stood up and crossed her arms, her tail thumping in annoyance. Her eyes flicked towards my hand, which was wrist-deep in the barrier again. ¡°Stop that.¡±


    ¡°Stop what?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re making my teeth tingle just looking at it.¡± She shivered. ¡°How can you stand the pain? I can barely touch it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad.¡± And I wasn¡¯t trying to show off or impress her, it really didn¡¯t hurt that much. My hand had started going numb to the cold, and the pressure wasn¡¯t any worse than pushing against a marble column, if I didn¡¯t shove too fast or too deep.


    ¡°Are you serious?¡± Malia poked the barrier again and yanked her hand away as static sparked. Scowling, she shook her hand and glared at me. ¡°You can¡¯t honestly tell me you don¡¯t feel the heart of a hundred thunderstorms raging across your arm. It doesn¡¯t even remotely feel like Phaeus¡¯ forge?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Feels more like the bottom of the ocean to me. Cold, wet, and an immense amount of pressure.¡±


    Malia folded her arms and pouted. ¡°That¡¯s not fair. I could handle the cold much better than electricity.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like I told it how to feel.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± She shook her head and shot the barrier another glare. Her eyes started shifting, and she unfolded her arms as she squared off against the barricade. ¡°I have an idea.¡±


    I put a hand on her shoulder and angled between her and the invisible boundary. ¡°Oh no.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± She gave me an innocent look.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°No gorgon¡¯s gaze. You¡¯d probably need to go full astral to even scratch the surface, let alone break the barrier.¡±


    She frowned. ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I took her hands in mine. ¡°But I do know that, if it doesn¡¯t break, the Paedens will know we¡¯re here, and we¡¯ll still be stuck outside the barrier. We don¡¯t know where Thane, Azoria, or the Oracles are, and we have no idea which, if any, Paeden deities are waiting for us inside with the derketo. So we need to figure out a way through or around this ward without alerting them.¡±


    She rolled her eyes. ¡°Stop trying to be cute. It¡¯s distracting.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the point.¡± I grinned.


    She laughed and lightly shoved my chest. ¡°Stop it. I¡¯m trying to problem solve and you¡¯re not helping.¡±


    ¡°But I am. You¡¯re not blasting away, heralding our presence to the world with wanton disregard for the peasants who¡¯d succumb to your stunning beauty.¡±


    She swatted my arm as she slithered around back to the wall. ¡°Hush. I¡¯m trying to think.¡± Bending over, she slapped at the sandy earth near the base of the barrier. The dirt passed through with barely a shimmer. Malia pursed her lips and shoved her fingers deeper into the earth. A moment later, she shot up, clutching her hand to her chest.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Eyes closed, she held up a claw as she hissed a breath. ¡°I¡¯m fine. The ward does, in fact, extend into the ground. And it¡¯s deep enough that, even if it doesn¡¯t go all the way down, it would take far too long to dig under.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°So down isn¡¯t an option. Do you want to try over?¡±


    She flicked her wings in annoyance and paced in a circle. ¡°No. I don¡¯t want my wings freezing up on me because of the barricade¡¯s interference. I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s a dome, or if it extends all the way up, but either way it¡¯d be an unpleasant fall.¡±


    ¡°The mortals don¡¯t seem to have any problem with it,¡± I said. It was an obvious statement, but sometimes spelling out the simple facts laid the foundation for the solution.


    ¡°Of course they don¡¯t, they¡¯re not divine.¡± Malia eyed the villagers with irritation, as if they were responsible for the ward¡¯s creation. ¡°But it¡¯s weird that the barrier responds differently to each of us. If it were coded to resist deities, it should reject us both equally. And it can¡¯t be a domain issue, because we¡¯re both war-aspected gods. Setting it to filter by power level seems absurd, because they know that we know about it, so there¡¯d be nothing preventing us from sending our own worshippers through. Maybe even a minor god, like Jade, could pass through if they set that kind of ward.¡±


    Sending mortal followers through was a potential solution, but it was fairly impractical for several reasons. Getting the worshippers organized and down the river would be a logistical nightmare, not to mention they¡¯d be completely unprotected from the Paeden pantheon once they passed inside the barrier. Plus, this was our problem to deal with. If we couldn¡¯t handle something this simple on our own, what good were we as gods?


    But that did give me an idea.


    ¡°I can get through.¡±


    Malia¡¯s brow furrowed as she gave me a sideways glance. ¡°Really? How?¡±


    ¡°Simple. I¡¯ll just assume a mortal avatar and pass through.¡±


    Now her eyebrows shot up. ¡°That easy?¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Well, for starters,¡± she held up her hand and ticked off on her fingers, ¡°one, we never assume fully mortal forms. Two, you¡¯d have to give up your divine powers with no guarantee that you could reclaim them once inside. We might as well send any old fool at that point.¡±


    I gave her a smug look, and she scowled.


    ¡°Shush. And third¡ª¡±


    ¡°You were doing numbers.¡± I grinned as her scowl deepened.


    ¡°And three,¡± she amended, ¡°even if you can get through that way, how am I supposed to? We can¡¯t both be powerless in there.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no guarantee I won¡¯t be able to recover my powers once I¡¯m through,¡± I said, but Malia wasn¡¯t reassured. ¡°Look at it this way. If it works, at least we¡¯ll know one way to get through.¡±


    She just gave me a long stare that said she wasn¡¯t convinced. Fine, time to drag out the catapults.


    ¡°Look. One of us needs to get in there.¡± I pointed at my chest. ¡°I¡¯ve had far more time to acclimate to living without my powers than you have, to the point where I still have things I¡¯ve yet to recover. You, on the other hand,¡± I brushed her chin with a finger, ¡°can barely contemplate a world that isn¡¯t bowing in awe of your incontrovertible supremacy. How could they, if you can¡¯t fell them with a look?¡±


    She kissed my finger. ¡°You¡¯re a stubborn old ox.¡±


    ¡°I love you, too.¡±


    Eyes closed, she breathed deeply and then sighed. ¡°Fine. But if you think I¡¯m waiting longer than a day before I stare this barrier down, consequences be damned, you¡¯re sadly mistaken.¡±


    I grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll be careful. But you need to give me at least a few days to reach Palmyra. It¡¯s not like I can just walk down the river to reach the delta.¡±


    ¡°What happened to all that confidence about getting your powers back once you¡¯re through?¡± Malia arched a brow at me.


    ¡°In case I don¡¯t,¡± I said, laughing. ¡°I have one contingency plan and suddenly you¡¯re questioning?¡±


    ¡°Oh, piss off and go play hero.¡± She swatted my arm as we separated. ¡°And don¡¯t forget your disguise. Subtlety is hard enough for you with a face like yours.¡±


    Now that was just uncalled for. But I smiled and we said our goodbyes, and then I pulled on worn robes more akin to a bedowin¡¯s. Clutching a staff not unlike the one I¡¯d left behind in my temple, but far less magical, I shed my divine essence as I slipped out from under the Veil. My joints grated like unoiled hinges, and I could feel the decades seeping back into my bones. The staff groaned as my weight settled onto it, bowing slightly as it pressed into the sand. I sagged, my shoulders like laden fruit baskets strung over my neck.


    I hadn¡¯t felt this aged since...well, before Hasda came. And it surprised me and honestly kind of scared me how far I¡¯d fallen. I hadn¡¯t really cared, and I¡¯d let myself slip. I was tired and ready for a long, long rest. But all that was behind me now. And I¡¯d use that experience to bring about my latest goal, carry my plots and Malia¡¯s to a successful conclusion.


    As I trudged past the barrier, I barely felt a tingle. The cold was gone, as was the immense pressure. Looked like the plan worked. I turned back to smile at Malia and discovered her gone. Not actually gone, but my now-mortal sight couldn¡¯t perceive her. That was okay. Hopefully she¡¯d be patient enough to let me make some progress before she started blasting away with her gorgon eyes.


    Heh, as if.


    I hopped forward, trying to scoot a little faster. No telling when she¡¯d finally snap.

 Chapter 36: "The Prophet"

    I shuffled into the village, scuffing the sand with my feet as I went. On my right, the houses of the fishing village were square, sandy brick affairs, some with doors so wide they left the interiors completely exposed. To my left, dipping into the shallows of the river were what could charitably be described as docks, thin slats of wood tied to slender poles with twine. The docks didn¡¯t look sturdy, but the bare-chested fishers navigated them on tiptoes with comfortable ease. They leapt into their long canoes, rocking the crafts as they settled down.


    It was a small village, perhaps no larger than the one that I used to frequent, before I left my old temple behind. I could see the opposite edge of the village from here, barely a dozen paces in, and could probably count the populace on my fingers and toes. So it wasn¡¯t surprising that they¡¯d stop and stare at a newcomer. The heightened control of Aenea by the Paedens likely meant fewer travelers passed by these days, and while I had gone for my best desert-traveler look, I¡¯d defaulted to a more Carthian style.


    What was surprising was, given the nationality of my appearance, how quickly the nearest villagers fell to their knees.


    ¡°The Prophet!¡± an older woman shrieked, a call that was picked up and carried across the village like a grassfire. Soon a ragtag bunch of commoners swirled around me, bowing and hurling adulations like a pack of starving merchants seeking a sale. The intensity of their worship caught me off guard, and I subconsciously rocked back on my heels as I tried to process what was happening.


    Above the swirling, pitiful throng, I could feel Malia¡¯s intense gaze on my back. She was probably going through a host of emotions, from irritation to jealousy to outright bewilderment. This was a far cry from the nearest reaction we¡¯d reckoned they would have, and not only would she be fuming about a further reminder of how blind we were, but she¡¯d also want to be in the thick of things.


    Locked outside, however, she could only observe from a distance and hope that my calloused, clumsy hands could gather enough clues that she could piece together a new angle of attack. Which wasn¡¯t to say that I couldn¡¯t handle myself without her, but I was rusty with handling worshippers and she¡¯d know far better how to direct their energy in the most profitable manner.


    I was more inclined towards inciting bloodlust and riots, guiding a seemingly mindless mob towards its goal of enemy annihilation. And based on the messianic reception, I doubted these poor fisherfolk were going to take up arms in my name anytime soon.


    As I moved forward, they parted before me, tossing worn rags or hastily-cut fronds in my path, doing their best to carpet the ground. I sagged against my staff as I walked, playing into the apparent age of my guise as I frantically searched for an appropriate persona. I didn¡¯t know what kind of Prophet they expected me to be, or what purpose they thought I¡¯d been brought here for.


    The clash between Carthian garb and the continued adoration in Paeden confused me. If the scant Aeneans had flocked to me and the Paedens shunned me, I could understand that. If only the lone Carthian¡ªjoined maybe by the few Aeneans who¡¯d intermarried with other, out-of-sight Carthians¡ªhad come, fine, that was something I could work with, too. But the total mobilization of the village, to the point where the boats on the river were making their way to shore to see what all the fuss was about, left my mind scrambling for answers. And with the sudden regression back to near-gone mortality, my thoughts felt more sluggish than unpurified ambrosia.


    As a dirt-smeared child plucked at my robes, I spread my arms as if to embrace him. What I was really doing was reaching towards the earth for whatever tendrils of latent magic I could muster, to see if I could pull myself up to, if not full divinity, then some level of demigod. I¡¯d have even settled for heroic, but only a whisper of magic ghosted across my knuckles. Nothing to prop myself up with, barely enough to tickle.


    But it must have done something, because as the earth magic sighed against the backs of my hands, the boy gasped and darted away to his mother. The invocations ceased, and only the elderly were slow to prostrate themselves on the ground. I hadn¡¯t even made it a dozen steps into the village before I¡¯d cowed them into total humility, and I wasn¡¯t sure what I¡¯d done.


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Well, staring at the backs of a couple dozen robes in various shades of tans wasn¡¯t getting me anywhere. I¡¯d need to figure out what my tact was, which meant breaking my silence thus far. Hopefully I wouldn¡¯t stick my foot too far down my throat. I¡¯d need all the options I could manage, because the whims of adorers are fickle things indeed.


    ¡°Rise, my children.¡± My voice sounded gruff and desert-worn. I leaned against my staff and surveyed them with my best grandfatherly gaze. While I¡¯d initially worried that some of them might take my look as patronizing, none but the youngest children even dared look up. Most stayed on their hands and knees, eyes averted towards the dirt. The elderly woman who¡¯d first called out at my arrival rose to a sitting position as best she could, her elbows shaking like saplings in a stormwind as she pushed out of her prostrate position.


    I shuffled over and helped her up. She looked absolutely mortified and muttered weak protestations I ignored as I kept a firm grip on her elbow. The gesture did put me off balance, though, and the butt of my staff hissed as it slid against the ground. My shoulder got a good whack from the head, but I managed to get the woman to her feet without falling on my face and making a fool of myself. The elder did her best to withdraw her arm in the least offensive way possible, mithering nonsense about her ¡°unworthiness¡± and how ¡°lowly¡± she was and so on.


    ¡°Akha, are you really Lady Lazuli¡¯s foretold Prophet?¡±


    The little boy from before had returned, his courage recovered enough to leave the safety of his mother¡¯s skirt. Or maybe his curiosity got the better of him. I smiled as his mother hissed at him to come back, and how dare he dishonor the Prophet by questioning so.


    So like Hasda, when he was younger, to run straight into potential danger, wide-eyed and oblivious. A little taller, though, and gaunter, but an awkward, blundering youth nonetheless. And useful, though he didn¡¯t know it.


    ¡°No offense taken,¡± I said over his head to his mother. Smiling, I bent down as he sidled over. ¡°What makes you doubt, young one?¡±


    ¡°Well, you look like what I think a Prophet¡¯s supposed to look like.¡± The boy scrunched up his face. ¡°And you did pop out of the air, but Mauta says¡ª¡±


    ¡°Mesen!¡±


    Apparently, whatever his mother said was something she didn¡¯t want publicly aired. I chuckled as the boy ducked from his mother¡¯s withering glare. But then he was up again in a flash, more questions at the ready.


    ¡°So are you really going to bring down Marudak? All by yourself? Lady Lazuli told us you¡¯d show us the Sea Mother. Where is she? And what about your army? I don¡¯t see any soldiers. Lady Lazuli said¡ª¡±


    ¡°Patience, little one.¡± I held up my hands to forestall further questions. Briefly, the thought flitted across my mind that setting this inquisitive boy on Jade would be the most rapid-fire, hilarious conversation to witness, but I dismissed it and did my best to control my smile. He was certainly a well-spring of information, though. Leave it to the children to ask the questions and reveal the information they shouldn¡¯t.


    Already I had several useful threads to follow. Lady Lazuli sounded like a local deity, but not one I recognized, but with my absence and the influx of Paeden influence, this wasn¡¯t surprising. Further, the Sea Mother was almost certainly a pre-Paeden (and pre-Carthian, for that matter) deity. Gods calling themselves by titles, instead of names, was a trend that had been old-fashioned before Seppo¡¯s mother had founded her pantheon.


    Yet another mention of elder pantheon things. What had Malia said about the derketo? That the Paedens were messing with the powers of their predecessors. But this Lazuli didn¡¯t sound like she was on the best of terms with the Paedens. From what I knew of that pantheon, they tended towards monolithic, a singular deity dominating and the rest subservient. If Lazuli were Paeden, she was a young goddess, or insignificant, or both. Being a female wouldn¡¯t provide her any room for advancement, based on the Apkalla¡¯s regard for women. Oannes, as an ambassador, would never have done anything to reflect poorly on his lord. His open hostility towards any female initiative only mirrored that of his god¡¯s.


    If the Paedens had overthrown a matriarchy, assuming the Sea Mother had been the head of the Paedens¡¯ forerunners, that could potentially explain the antagonism towards the gender. But it did nothing to justify the utter vitriol that had spawned in their society.


    That being said, I had more immediate things to attend to, like the boy who¡¯d grown impatient and was tugging on my robes again. I must¡¯ve dozed while my mind ran over his revelations, because he was asking if I¡¯d fallen asleep. His mortified mother, propelled by a multi-faceted sense of preservation, had overcome her holy fear and had crept up behind the boy, trying to pull him away while whispering hushed reprimands.


    I shook myself and smiled warmly at them. ¡°Forgive me. The journey through the desert was a long one.¡± As if to emphasize my point, I sagged against my staff and yawned. ¡°But my journey is not yet finished. Pray tell, could someone tell me if there¡¯s a ship that could take me north, to the city?¡± I smiled and shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t walk on water, and trekking through the riverbed doesn¡¯t sound very appealing.¡±

 Chapter 37: "The Prophecy"

    Finding transport downriver turned out to be far more challenging than I anticipated. Not that there weren¡¯t sailors willing to take me, but rather that everyone wanted me to accept their offer. Despite her earlier reservation about her son pestering me, she practically shoved him forward to offer his father¡¯s boat for my travels. I declined as politely as I could, soothing her worries by explaining that others needed to be involved, that the whole village share in the glory.


    In reality, I didn¡¯t want to create any favoritism situations. While her son hadn¡¯t done much besides barrage me with questions, he¡¯d been the first to initiate actual contact and had absorbed the most direct dialogue from me. Even though I¡¯d gone on to canvas the rest of the village for transportation, if I hadn¡¯t taken another family¡¯s boat, the other villagers most likely would have inferred a partiality that simply didn¡¯t exist. But by splitting the aid provided from among them, they could more easily accept that the whole town bore equal responsibility for the help they gave me.


    As I climbed into the boat, a single-mast vessel with the sail down, I felt a tingle on my spine that felt like worship, sacrifices, and sacred oaths. The faith of these humble villagers, though nothing I could really do with it, cut off from my divine powers as I was. And it wasn¡¯t much to speak of, but I appreciated their belief nonetheless.


    I spent the journey downriver lulled by the rocking of the boat and the rhythm of the oars. The river sparkled as the afternoon sun scattered across its rippling surface, the water wrinkling as the boat floated onwards. Although the distance between Malia and I grew with each passing hour, I didn¡¯t feel the separation any, save for an empirical knowledge that we were growing physically apart. Our bond was still there, true, but it grew no fainter than it already had been since I passed through the boundary.


    She would find a way around that obstacle, no doubt about it. Whether her breach was accompanied by fanfare or subtlety remained to be seen, but one way or another she would get through. Hopefully she would wait long enough for me to make my way to Palmyra, the city in the river delta and what most likely now served as the Paeden capitol. Once I was there, assuming my disguise remained intact, I could figure out some angles of attack, maybe even discover a hint as to Thane and Azoria¡¯s whereabouts before Malia provided either a diversion or sent the city into a state of heightened suspicion.


    Speaking of the city.


    We¡¯d made surprisingly good time down the river. By the time the sun cast its last rays from behind the horizon, we arrived outside the city limits. Palmyra had been built at the bottom of the river delta, the ¡°point¡± of the upside-down pyramid shape. Only the ancients knew which side of the river the city had started on, for as it had grown through the ages it had spilled across the branching river to populate every habitable square foot of earth.


    Here the architecture reflected its desert heritage much more strongly than in Karnak. The tan houses were squat and square, their roofs flat and open, with staircases on the side for easy access. Ziggurats, the pointless predecessors of the pyramids, bore long flights of stairs that bisected each side, paintings in faded reds and blues flanking the steps. Statues of stocky, bearded dwarves guarded the corners of the ziggurat pinnacles, mortal representations of the city¡¯s former patron couple, Palma and Myrhha. The Paedens had integrated them into their pantheon when the region first came under their control, and so far as I knew the aged gods were enjoying their twilight years in their new divine residence.


    Quaint history that did little to help me ascertain the current patron deity, but it was reassuring that the statues still stood. With how domineering Marudak seemed to be, the fact that he left the images of former rulers remain meant that, no matter how tyrannical he was, he at least left history intact. I wasn¡¯t sure why, exactly, I found that reassuring, but I did. Maybe he had enough respect for his precursors and antagonists to leave their legacies untouched, or maybe I was misattributing his motives to a political inability to remove them without destabilizing himself.


    Oh well. More things to ponder in the ever-growing pile of mysteries I was too uninformed to solve. As the boat approached a lower set of docks, I gathered my robes and staff about me and prepared to disembark.


    Thank the heavens I arrived under the cover of night. I managed to keep my transporters quiet about my arrival and didn¡¯t attract any attention from those on the docks, something I don¡¯t think I could have managed under broad daylight. My robes would have drawn curious eyes like flies to honey, but with a full night to prowl the city streets I could perhaps find localized clothes or better prepare to unveil the arrival of ¡°the Prophet¡± come the sunrise.


    Unfortunately, most of the shops open at this hour were of the sordid variety. If Ulti had been here, they would have feasted among the various pleasure houses, gratifying themselves in the soft starlight. The innkeepers reclined against their door frames would have welcomed them into the taverns with broad smiles and sweeping gestures.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    But as I passed, all I got were hard looks and stony faces. Several thought to approach me, smiling, only for their joviality to melt as the scant firelight cast from their taverns revealed my foreign robes and aged face. They would stiffen, mutter something that sounded like an invocation against evil, and retreat back to their businesses. Some went so far as to shut and bar their doors.


    Well. I didn¡¯t expect warm welcomes all around, but this was a far colder reception than I anticipated. Apparently the jubilation of the small fishing village was an isolated incident, and perhaps the prophesied arrival was viewed as a bad omen here. Or it could just be that an old man in alien attire, wandering the streets of their supposedly isolated city, had them rattled. If Paedaea had cut off Palmyra and the rest of northern Aenea from its southern brethren, it wasn¡¯t impossible that all Carthians had been expelled or imprisoned.


    Neither Seppo nor Malia had mentioned something like that happening, but if the region had been silent for months, it was a distinct possibility. While I found it encouraging that none of the city¡¯s inhabitants had accosted me, I still took precautions as I continued on my way. Side alleys, dimly-lit back ways, sectors where the night dwellers were so lethargic they paid no mind to anyone but themselves.


    With how muggy the night air was, I was starting to share their lassitude. My joints protested in earnest after a few hours of walking, each step rattled by the increasing grinding of my bones. The humidity made the air cloying, nearly plugging my nostrils and making breathing a chore. More and more, I came to rely on my staff as less of a prop and more of a support. I was old, gods damn it, and I needed a break every now and then.


    My wandering became more aimless the deeper into the city I got. I wasn¡¯t sure where I was going, exactly, but my gut said the derketo nest would ostensibly be somewhere downriver, close to the Great Sea. That wasn¡¯t to say they couldn¡¯t have some peripheral hideout on land, as supported by the invasion of Resef¡¯s temple, but I got the impression of the derketo being monsters of the deep.


    As for their social structure, they could be anything from a hive to a herd. I suspected the lone one in the temple was probably an oddity. Maybe it wanted the servant girl in particular, if she¡¯d been attempted prey before but escaped. Or maybe it¡¯d been on a mission, if the derketo structure allowed for such things. Or maybe...any number of things. I just didn¡¯t have enough information yet, and I was trying to untangle threads I didn¡¯t even have my fingers wrapped around in an attempt to take my mind off my annoying mortal, physical fatigue.


    But my body had finally had enough. I found a secluded alley, occupied by two dark lumps beneath coarse blankets, the fabric rising and falling with the breaths of the sleepers beneath it. I shuffled past, taking care to avoid tripping over the sandaled foot jutting in the middle of the walkway. Steeling my nose against the acidic smell of dumped bodily wastes, I found a relatively clean spot behind what I hoped was an inn and curled up against the wall. Sleep came quickly.


    I dreamed.


    For a moment, I thought I was seeing myself. I floated in the air, a figure at my side in faded robes much like the ones I now slept in. The air currents, warm and sticky, tugged at the soles of my feet as I hovered above the city. But as I looked closer, I realized that I wasn¡¯t above Palmyra.


    In fact, I wasn¡¯t above any city I recognized. Although the buildings were square, like the predominant style in Aenea, the geography was all wrong. Hills thick with olive trees rolled across the countryside, giving the landscape outside the walled city the look of a sea frozen in the midst of a storm. A long river snaked beneath the cliff on which the city had been built, a ribbon of water connecting two saltwater lakes. Though I couldn¡¯t see these bodies of water, I knew them in that uncanny familiarity of dream knowledge.


    The robed figure shifted as it noticed my attention, frail hands slipping from its sleeves to sweep over the strange land below us. ¡°War is coming.¡± The voice, feminine, sounded as if the speaker had spent too much time inhaling fumes. As old as I was, she conveyed an age that made me shiver.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked. The dream had barely started, and already I felt mentally alert, almost fully refreshed. Which was really, really bad. Lucid dreams with the stench of prophecy often panned out, but they weren¡¯t often experienced by gods. Even in my mortal form, it was highly unlikely that any pantheon, mine or others, would be foretelling in my slumbering mind.


    A raspy chuckle fluttered her hood. ¡°Wonder, half-god, and be content with unanswered questions.¡±


    ¡°Well, you can¡¯t be¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know your thoughts, child.¡± Another laugh. ¡°I sift them as sand, and relish their simplicity. Will you hear my words before you awake?¡±


    I frowned. Her tone was both knowing and teasing, not quite condescending but far too confident. I had a feeling I wasn¡¯t going to like whatever came next, but I¡¯d be a fool to ignore the words of whatever being could invade sleeping gods¡¯ dreams.


    ¡°Good. Know this, Aged Child, that when the Lion Cub has conquered all, he will take his place at the head of his pride. An Adder and an Apparition will be his undoing and his salvation. And when his kingdom is complete, from among the daughters of the Heavenly Bull will come a child who will be his downfall. She will take his pride from him, and rule in his stead.¡± She paused as the dream sun broke the horizon, feathering the sky with its crimson rays.


    I didn¡¯t like how much that portent resembled blood. The old sailors¡¯ adage about scarlet mornings and taking warnings flitted across my mind. Yep, really didn¡¯t like these omens.


    She turned to me, and as she did her hood shifted, enough that I could see her cragged face fissure into a smile. ¡°A final, simpler riddle. What happens when the jailor fears his prisoner more than his master?¡±


    My forehead wrinkled. I had no idea where this was going. ¡°The prisoner gets out?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Beware the Prisoner, Aged Child.¡± And with that, she turned and vanished.


    Chills gripped my spine so tightly I nearly woke up. And I wished I had. Even if I had to peel my sleep-deprived eyes open once awake, I would take all the physical maladies to suffering through the remainder of this dream. The prophetic portion was over, but I didn¡¯t want to risk that woman coming back. She¡¯d touched some primal fear within me, something I couldn¡¯t rationalize away with the uncertainty of the dreamscape surrounding me. But I wasn¡¯t waking up anytime soon, so I spent the rest of the dream doing my best to memorize the land below me. Whenever we reached this portion of the world during our coming war, I wanted to be fully prepared for whatever events this prophecy held in store.

 Chapter 38: "The Foreigner"

    The transition from sleep to wakefulness left me groggy and disoriented. For a moment, I thought I¡¯d fallen into another vision, one filled with sandy-robed commoners thronging me with expectant eyes0. But as clarity returned, I realized that the people flocking me were indeed real, and I was very much the center of their attention. My first thought was that I¡¯d been crying out in my sleep, but the looks on their faces were ones of wonder, awe, and excitement.


    Their conversations died to murmurs as they saw that I¡¯d woken up. Although the vast majority were Paedens, with some Aeneans sprinkled throughout, not a single one looked at me with disgust or contempt, a stark contrast to the previous night. If anything, they all seemed to have that gooey glow of worship slathered across their features. Thank the heavens the alley mouth kept them from crowding around me too closely. Instead of claustrophobia, I felt more like a quaint attraction, despite their undue adoration.


    I blinked at them, trying to mentally gather myself. I was still shaken from the vision, had no idea if the dream landscape properly reflected its physical counterpart, and now had an expectant crowd to wrangle. If they thought I was the Prophet, well, I¡¯d play my part, but I wished I¡¯d had some time to collect myself and ponder the seer¡¯s words. I had a sick feeling in my stomach the prophecy involved Hasda, but I had no clue what the ¡°prisoner¡± could be referencing. Something about me? But what metaphorical prison was I stuck in?


    But, of course, the peasants weren¡¯t going to give me time to think.


    ¡°Is it true?¡± one of the men asked. ¡°Are you really Him?¡±


    I tried my best to smile as I scooted to a sitting position. The bricks of the building behind me scraped at my elbows and spine, their texture uneven and unforgiving. ¡°Please bear with me. My body isn¡¯t what it used to be.¡±


    Much understanding mumbling on the part of the commoners. As I rose and made my way out of the alley, I was subjected to much the same kinds of questions as the boy in the fishing village had asked. Was I the Prophet? Where was the Sea Mother? Was she sending her army to save them? And so on and so forth. The prevailing theme centered around salvation from Marudak¡¯s oppression, which sounded strange coming from predominantly Paeden mouths.


    With how repetitious their questions were, I mostly tuned them out, murmuring the same vague assurances as we made our way into the city. The square buildings around us had cast off their gloomy auras from the night, their white walls banded in reds and blues and occasionally covered in hieroglyphs that depicted battles between jackals, lions, camels, and creatures from the Barca River. Most of the older pictograms depicted half-crocodile or -fish forms as their river monsters, but the newer murals had strangely shifted to cephalopodan: chimeras with short or long tentacles, strangely fluted heads, and aquatic curves that looked out of place against their piscine and reptilian counterparts. But these images were rare in an already scarce exterior decoration, so I filed it away as an oddity.


    Despite the dominance of right angles in the city¡¯s architecture, the buildings and streets twisted and turned. Palm trees sprouted like weeds among them, as if the trees had grown up around the buildings and not the other way around. Off in the distance, I could hear the burble of the river on my left, though the houses blocked it from view. Brown canvas tents fluttered like fallen banners, dirty cousins of the colorful tapestries that hung from the tall marble gates scattered throughout the city. Ox-pulled carts lumbered through the streets, their drivers flicking thin reeds on the beasts¡¯ hindquarters.


    The sun had been up only a few hours, and already the day was muggy and the heat unpleasant. By noon, the air would warp from the sweltering sunlight, and the light breeze would do little but tantalize us with the promise of cool. The itchy scent of hay mingled with the humidity as a cart passed close by. If the driver recognized the significance of the procession, he didn¡¯t seem to care.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°¡ªpass judgment on the trial today?¡±


    I stumbled as the stray question pierced the fog of repetition. This whole time, the peasants hadn¡¯t let up about my role in ousting Marudak and the invasive Paeden gods, but this was the first to mention anything about a trial. It caught my attention because of Hasda, but I was certain it had nothing to do with him.


    ¡°What was that?¡± I settled my hands on my staff and looked around, trying to find the questioner.


    A man shouldered his way to the forefront, his face eager. ¡°Lady Nanshe will try the foreign god today. She caught him spying in her holy temple, and will punish him accordingly.¡±


    Oh, shit.


    I kept my face impassive. ¡°And which foreign god is that?¡±


    ¡°A black-haired youth who claims the same domain as her,¡± a middle-aged lady offered. She cracked a smile. ¡°But how could he be a god of the underworld? He looks like he¡¯d drown if you threw him in the water.¡±


    Several people around her laughed.


    Gods damn it. Well, at least I knew what happened to Thane now.


    ¡°So you¡¯ve seen him?¡± I kept my tone as neutral as possible.


    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± the man said, trying to regain his spot as the center of attention. His eyes flashed as he pushed his way into the circle of space the throng had created around me as we stopped. ¡°A pale-skinned Carthian lad with nasty, sunken eyes and a mean face. Probably consorts with the ancient devils, along with all his barbarian fellows.¡±


    The people behind him nodded and muttered their agreement.


    I chuckled, but not for the reasons they thought. ¡°And, pray tell, how do you know he¡¯s actually a god?¡±


    The man blinked. ¡°Well¡­¡±


    ¡°All foreigners have been exiled from the city, yes?¡±


    ¡°Not explicitly.¡± The man scratched the back of his neck. ¡°But many have left, yes.¡±


    ¡°And the wrath of the Sea Mother will soon fall upon the Paeden invaders, yes?¡±


    He jerked a nod. ¡°It is as you say.¡±


    ¡°Then, how would Nanshe, whose pantheon shall soon crumble like a monument of sand in the desert, have captured the god of a people she¡¯s cast from the city?¡± I smiled at his confusion. ¡°My child, this ¡®trial¡¯ is merely for show, to reassure herself that she still holds power and to delude the people of the same. She¡¯s found some poor, unfortunate soul who failed to escape the city in time and made him up to be some bedeviled monstrosity, that you¡¯d all hunger for his blood and bend your knees at her temple.¡± I shook my head, frowning. ¡°She would take an innocent man¡¯s life to satisfy her own insecurity. But, come.¡± I patted the man on the shoulder. ¡°Let us go to her temple and put an end to her insolence. May the Sea Mother be praised.¡±


    Many echoed the adulation, and the crowd turned north as we headed towards Nanshe¡¯s temple. I breathed a silent sigh of relief as we marched. That had been a sizable gamble that could have blown my cover entirely. I was banking on them believing me enough to trust my judgment, Thane not exuding any godly auras (if it really was him), and the Sea Mother being perceived as a just avenger. With the barrier blocking my powers, it wasn¡¯t unlikely that Thane was without his under the barricade, but the old gods were notorious for being fickle, self-centered, and highly destructive. Maybe this Lazuli served as a mediator, one who wielded enough influence that she could turn the mad wrath of an ancient goddess away or, if not, at least the people believed she could.


    But that left me with a new problem. If Nanshe really had captured Thane and was going to publicly execute or maim him, how was I going to stop her? I had no idea how powerful this underworld goddess was, what other Paeden deities were with her, and how incapacitated Thane was. I wasn¡¯t going to be summoning any armies of stone golems or entering any invincible berserk states, even with the adoration of the followers around me. And they certainly weren¡¯t going to be capable of taking on any goddesses, especially not on land she¡¯d occupied long enough to call her own. That was a problem for when we arrived at the temple, however.


    With our destination settled, the crowd settled back into the rhythmic conversation of going over their expectations for the fall of the Paedens. Some wanted the old gods back¡ªthe beings depicted in the hieroglyph murals¡ªwhile others wondered whether the Sea Mother would approve of deities who weren¡¯t her children, even if they remained subservient to her. Most seemed to blame the Paedens for the severe decrease in fishing catches, a decline that began, I gathered, shortly after the Paedens had conquered upper Aenea and had dropped steadily until now.


    Ah, yes. Nothing like empty stomachs to turn worshippers against their gods.

 Chapter 39: "The Queen"

    Our informal procession made its way through the city and deep into the northern end of the delta. The houses thinned, the road shifting from stone-paved to packed dirt as we edged out of the city proper. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, the air tinged salty from the Great Sea that abutted the fanning edge of the delta. A nice, calm, peaceful setting that gave the bleached white temple a threatening aura.


    Massive pylons flanked the temple gate, the twin towers tapering off at well over double the height of the gate. The exterior had been heavily engraved, ribbons of seaweed twining around distorted derketo, and the carvings looked new, with none of the expected weathering of a centuries-old temple. This was, perhaps, the first sign of the Paedens wholly supplanting the previous pantheon, and felt strange considering the erasure they¡¯d abstained from in the other cities. Then again, Nanshe was an underworld goddess, and who better to symbolize the passing of the old gods than a goddess of death?


    What really drew my attention, however, was the dozen or so derketo milling about on the plaza outside. They flopped about on all threes, their tails bent like knees and their webbed hands slapping the ground awkwardly as they circled a chained figure in black robes. His captors had put a black hood over his head, but I could still tell from his build (or lack thereof) that it was Thane. The derketo hissed and nipped at his if they came too close, head tentacles shivering as their jaws snapped, but they didn¡¯t touch him.


    A crowd had begun to grow around them, even before my followers arrived. Apparently the whole city knew about the upcoming trial, and already a tenth of the populace had gathered. Most looked like acolytes of Nanhe, their fishing garb and faces powdered white with crushed chalk, giving them a skeletal appearance. The goddess herself was noticeably absent, but I had no doubt she¡¯d show herself when the time came.


    My little entourage didn¡¯t go unnoticed, however. Although there were dozens of people gathered at the temple, my followers were half as big, drawing the attention of those that had already arrived. One particular acolyte gave me a strange look, her eyes tracking my slow progress towards the temple. She wasn¡¯t the only one staring, but she looked puzzled, rather than excited or upset like the rest of those around her. I didn¡¯t get time to ponder the mystery, though, because six of the derketo split off from the group surrounding the prisoner and angled towards us.


    My followers shrank back as the parasitic merfolk formed a line and blocked our path, baring their fangs as they spluttered and hissed. Like a pack of primates, they hunched down on their knuckles and wagged their head tentacles as they postured and tried their best to assert dominance.


    I merely laughed and patted the nearest one on the head. ¡°Such savagery from such a sophisticated creature. Deflate yourselves and your egos.¡±


    ¡°Ssstupid mortal.¡± It recoiled from my touch and shook its head. Its rubbery skin glistened as if coated in sweat, although it felt like mucus where I¡¯d touched it. ¡°Our queen will have your hands for your insssolence.¡±


    ¡°Who, Nanshe? I¡¯ve heard she¡¯s new around these parts.¡± I gave it what I hoped passed for a charming smile. ¡°Are you sure she¡¯s the queen?¡±


    That drew out his fangs. ¡°Bassstard! I should strike you down where you stand.¡±


    Well, I¡¯d miscalculated. Malia¡¯s earlier comments about the derketo made it seem like the Paedens had taken existing creatures and twisted them to their will, but if the derketo had been born and raised with their modified forms, then perhaps Nanshe really was their brood mother. But if they had any ancient blood in them, they¡¯d fear the old ones, even if it was no more than a primal terror.


    ¡°And risk the wrath of the Sea Mother?¡± I chuckled as the derketo visibly flinched at the name. Ah, that one hit true. So they did have some shared ancestry with the amphibian monsters pictured in the hieroglyphs. ¡°Yes, the True Queen heralds her return, and you¡¯d best decide where your loyalties lie, and fast.¡± I hunched over to whisper. ¡°I¡¯d choose wisely, if I were you.¡±


    The derketo before me snapped its fangs and hopped back a step. ¡°How dare¡ª¡±


    ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± A cold voice called from the temple doorway.


    The derketo around me froze, eyes widening in panic. Hanging their heads, they sulked back to the prisoner, save the one that was still glaring angrily at me.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°My queen,¡± it rasped, keeping its eyes on me.


    ¡°I gave you explicit instructions not to abandon your post. I wouldn¡¯t have assigned so many of you if it wasn¡¯t absolutely crucial you guard him, but again I¡¯m let down.¡± Nanshe strode into the light, her heels clicking against the stone.


    Pale blue arms folded in front of her, she wore an extremely displeased frown and would have been glaring daggers if she had eyesight. As it was, her clouded eyes still burned with fury, pointed yellow teeth pressed against her lower lip. Rich purple tentacles trailed down her neck, a shade darker than the scales that hugged her figure like armor. A hoop of thick webbing, spiderwebbed with fuschia veins, extended down from her waist, cloaking her legs.


    And she was bipedal, at odds with the fish-tailed derketo she ruled. Granted, she shared their fangs and claws, not to mention the strange gills that slitted her neck, but her features were much closer to human than sea monster. She didn¡¯t have a tail, that I could tell, but even on land she carried herself with a grace that spoke to her mastery of underwater movement. Even upset, she held herself with control and poise.


    She paused at the top step of the plaza and stared down at the cowering creatures. ¡°I could berate you, but I¡¯d make more progress insulting these stairs for how little comprehension you¡¯ve managed to retain in your pathetically empty skulls.¡± Her claws drummed a steady rhythm on her arm as she sneered. ¡°I feel sick just thinking about how miserable cretons like you could¡¯ve ever descended from me.¡±


    ¡°But, Your Grace,¡± the lead derketo said.


    Nanshe unfolded her arms and snapped her fingers at it. ¡°Not a word. I¡¯ve half a mind to scuttle the lot of you and birth a new brood. You there.¡± She pointed at an acolyte to her left without breaking her death stare on the derketo. Belatedly I realized Nanshe had singled out the same woman who¡¯d given me the funny look earlier.


    From the look on her face, she was also surprised to be chosen. Her eyes flicked to mine briefly, but I couldn¡¯t read the emotions before her eyes snapped back to Nanshe.


    The aquatic queen waved towards the temple with a limp hand. ¡°Go to the delta and ensure the cretons are properly watching the Sea. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll know exactly when she arrives, but if I can¡¯t trust them with keeping an eye on something physically in front of them¡­¡± She trailed off. After a moment, she jerked her head in the acolyte¡¯s direction. ¡°You¡¯re still here? Are you as incompetent as these bottom feeders?¡±


    The woman flinched. ¡°No, my Queen.¡±


    Nanshe sneered. ¡°Then get moving. Now.¡±


    Muttering generic honorifics, the acolyte ducked a quick bow and disappeared into the temple.


    ¡°Now then.¡± Head held high, Nanshe descended the stairs, staring down her nose at me. Either she possessed some kind of vision, or her senses were hypersharp, but the milky cataracts filming her eyes screamed that she was blind despite how well she navigated her surroundings. ¡°You reek of alien stench, old man. Who are you, where did you come from, and why are you here?¡±


    ¡°Hail, Peacock of the Sea.¡± I couldn¡¯t keep the grin off my face as I said it. Easy bait, especially considering how mortal I looked, but I wasn¡¯t sure how deep her self-control ran.


    Her nostrils flared and her lips tightened. ¡°What a strange greeting. Are insults considered flattery in your barbaric land, or are you simply a senile old bastard?¡±


    ¡°Ah, I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m the latter. And it¡¯s rather unfortunate that my sight has yet to fail me.¡±


    ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡±


    I shrugged and gripped my staff. ¡°I¡¯ll die having witnessed your hideous visage.¡±


    ¡°Pathetic.¡± She huffed but didn¡¯t slow her stride down the stairs. ¡°Even the dumbest animal could dodge your club. But you must have something about you to have attracted so many witless peons.¡± Sniffing, she swept her hand over my followers. ¡°Are you really so poor, that you¡¯d take whatever moldy crumbs this beggar hides in his pockets?¡±


    ¡°Better than the fish shit you deign to spare them,¡± I said. Even though I kept my voice steady, I could feel my knees start to tremble against the increasing pressure. The lower Nanshe got on the stairs, the worse it became.


    She flashed her serrated teeth. ¡°So you have some wits about you. How charming.¡±


    The derketo parted as she reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped aside as she brushed past the chained prisoner, who¡¯d remained remarkably silent this whole time. Even gagged, I¡¯d have expected Thane to have some kind of reaction to the verbal sparring.


    Nanshe paid him no mind as she stalked towards me. ¡°Will your tongue remain so sharp, I wonder, after I¡¯ve broken your kneecaps?¡±


    ¡°What a haughty minnow you are. You remind me of someone.¡±


    ¡°And who¡¯s that?¡± She was a stone¡¯s throw away now, and it hurt to breathe.


    But I flashed my aged teeth at her and said, ¡°My last conquest.¡±


    For a moment I thought she¡¯d slap me, or crush me beneath her aura, but after a drawn-out sigh she merely shook her head. ¡°A pity. It seems the sparkle on your shell was merely the surf, and you¡¯re as dull as you first appeared. Atargas, bind him.¡±


    ¡°And muzzle my message?¡± The edges of my vision fuzzed, but I still saw the look of hesitation that flitted across her face.


    She held up a hand, and the derketo paused, or at least I hoped they did. ¡°What could you possibly say to dissuade your coming fate?¡±


    I pushed myself up on my staff, reaching my full, hunched height. ¡°The Sea Mother has seen your insolence and found you wanting. She comes to exact her judgment upon you and your pantheon.¡±


    Nanshe snorted. ¡°That¡¯s it? Anything else? Or will you continue to insult me by insinuating my ignorance?¡±


    My jaw fell open, and not entirely from the weight of her aura. She knew? But how?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re playing at, but you truly aren¡¯t from around here. I can smell it.¡± She wrinkled her nose in disgust. ¡°Are you Carthians truly sapient creatures? Do you possess intelligence?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± It came out more like the moan of an idiot than I liked.


    ¡°I¡¯d thought Lazuli had absconded to your Carthian gods, but either she didn¡¯t or you were too stupid to understand why. Think.¡± Nanshe sounded truly angry that I didn¡¯t understand what was going on. ¡°Why would we go to all the effort of walling ourselves off and severing contact with the outside? Because we knew the Sea Mother was coming.¡±

 Chapter 40: "The Atargas"

    My mind raced to unpack all the implications. They knew? How? If they already knew that one of their elder gods was returning, that would explain why they¡¯d walled themselves off. But that didn¡¯t make sense, because this had been going on for months, and they¡¯d invaded the territory. Unless their conquering was some kind of trigger, but even then, why hadn¡¯t the Sea Mother come back sooner? But my brain felt sluggish and fumbled the various thoughts around without making any useful connections.


    Nanshe snorted in disgust. ¡°What? Are you just some drooling idiot, stupefied once your message was delivered? What a disgrace.¡± She spun on her heel, her head tentacles flaring and she waltzed back across the plaza. She flicked her hand at the derketo. ¡°Dispose of this flesh puppet however you see fit, but I want him out of my sight before I begin the trial.¡±


    A pair of derketo bowed and slithered over to me, fangs bared. They tried to grab me under my arms to drag me away, but even hunched over as I was, I still stood taller than they did. I almost laughed when they hissed at me. The sunlight made their faces sparkle, showing flecks of sea green and aquamarine in their deep blue skin. It was hard to feel intimidated by such awkward creatures, especially when their shoulders barely reached my waist.


    The one on my right reached for my staff and nearly toppled over in the process. With a light shoved from me, it sprawled onto the paving stones, its breath hissing through its teeth.


    I frowned down at it. ¡°How did you ever breach a foreign god¡¯s temple?¡±


    Nanshe froze on the third step and spun around. ¡°What did you just say?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Oh, I wasn¡¯t talking to you.¡± I shrugged off the second derketo and shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m just struggling to reconcile previous visions with the weaklings before me.¡±


    The pressure returned in force as Nanshe bared her teeth at me. ¡°You dare insult my atargas?¡±


    ¡°I believe I was quoting you, actually.¡± I scratched my neck and acted unconcerned, but I hadn¡¯t failed to notice the other derketo edging towards me. I still had no idea how I was going to get Thane out of here. Stalling would obviously only do so much, but even if my aged mind wasn¡¯t dragging so much, I wasn¡¯t sure I could¡¯ve come up with a plan in time. Part of me had hoped to feel some kind of divine spark once the conflict began, what with all the worshipful followers around me, but I only felt hungry.


    Stupid mortal frame. I hadn¡¯t brought anything with or thought to ask my entourage for food. It wasn¡¯t like I¡¯d needed to worry about feeding myself in centuries or anything, and adrenaline and who knew what else had carried me along thus far. The morning hunger had been overshadowed by the prophetic vision of the night before and the sudden, unexpected greeting when I woke up, and then momentum had carried me all the way to this piscine queen¡¯s doorstep. Funny how I ended up doing exactly what I berated Malia for earlier. But there was always the chance that she¡¯d catch up just in time, like she had many times before¡­.


    Unfortunately, today was not one of those days.


    The new set of derketo, a group of four this time, were a little smarter than the two flopping around on the ground. Instead of trying to leverage me well above where they could balance, they went for my legs, dragging me down by my ankles. As was to be expected of easily-won followers, my devotees made no move to assist me. Not abandonment, not quite, but the faces I could make out as my vision blurred had hopeful expressions on their faces, as if they expected Lazuli or the Sea Mother to swoop in any second and save me.


    However, I ended up being unceremoniously dragged back down the path by my robes and ankles. My head smacked against the stones as the derketo awkwardly hopped along, struggling with my dead weight as they traversed terrain that was clearly outside their natural habitat. After the third bounce, I got a little hot under the collar. That hurt, gods damn it.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    While I had to give them credit for managing to manhandle me, they¡¯d made the mistake of leaving me with my staff. Old those I was, I was getting cranky, and I knew how to wield a good stick. I whacked the ones on my legs in the back of the head, but I had to twist on the ground to swipe at the derketo clinging to the shoulders of my robes. I caught one in the face as it lunged for me, denting the wooden head with its fangs and nearly dropping my staff in the process. The other one shredded my robes, not in retaliation, but to disentangle its claws from my clothes.


    I felt like an upended turtle, flailing my staff as I rolled on my back. It was getting hard to breathe, and my spine cracked several times from my harsh movements. Despite the pain, the back of my mind was still wrestling with the thought of how these creatures could be so pathetic, and yet they¡¯d still managed to attack and incapacitate someone in Resef¡¯s temple.


    Here I was, in a mortal body nearly at the end of its lifespan, smacking around multiple derketo with ease. Even ambushed, I still didn¡¯t think I would have struggled to prevail against a few of these creatures, let alone a single one.


    ¡°Oh, for the love of¡­¡± Nanshe¡¯s irritated voice floated over the sounds of our scuffle. ¡°Bite the bastard already and get him out of here.¡±


    Oh. Well, that makes sense.


    Movement at my feet showed I hadn¡¯t incapacitated the derketo like I¡¯d hoped. And of course the one who bit my staff hadn¡¯t suffered any serious injuries, so that one was coming for me as well. Fine. One last trick, then.


    I threw my arms up into the air, my hands tight on the staff. ¡°Hear the words of the Sea Mother! A curse upon whoever would do harm unto her Holy Prophet, or any of her people. They will¡ª¡±


    Shit. How would an ancient sea deity punish aquatic beings?


    The derketo blinked at me as they rocked back, surprised and uncertain.


    I swallowed and tightened my grip. ¡°They will suffer eternal torment beneath a scorching sun, cast out forever from the solace of her depths.¡±


    They glanced at each other, shrugged, and then advanced.


    Well, it was worth a shot. I managed to scoot onto my butt before they got too close, my staff angled in front of me. Although I could probably fend them off for a bit, my old frame couldn¡¯t endure a long, drawn-out scuffle. Even with how pitiful these derketo were compared to the one in the temple, they would eventually subdue me. Already I could feel my arms trembling from fatigue and hunger.


    ¡°My queen! My queen!¡±


    A tall figure dashed from behind the temple, panting and dripping water everywhere. His body was as thick as a tree trunk, his limbs bound with so many muscles it was a wonder he could even move. The armored scales that covered his body gave him a draconic look, although his markings resembled a shark¡¯s. Unlike the derketo, he had actual legs in addition to the hefty tail bouncing along the ground behind him.


    Nanshe raised her eyebrows and gave him a bored look as he bent over and panted. ¡°What is it now, Galamma?¡±


    Hmm. I¡¯d heard that name before, many moons ago. One of the Apkalla, maybe?


    ¡°My queen,¡± the stocky merfolk said, ¡°so many bad tidings, and all at once!¡±


    ¡°Just spit it out.¡± She rolled her eyes at him.


    ¡°A mysterious figure from the desert approaches the city. The people believe him to be a Prophet of the Ancient Mother.¡± He pushed up off his knees, though his chest still heaved like bellows. Gills on his neck flared as he puffed. ¡°I fear the Tamiyan cult has not been eradicated as fully as you wished, and will use this person to incite a rebellion against us.¡±


    Wow, word must have traveled really fast. I thought I would have preceded any mention of my sudden arrival, what with how quickly I¡¯d left for Palmyra, but if somehow news of my strange appearance had preceded me to the city, that would explain how I was discovered sleeping in a back alley this morning.


    As interesting as their conversation was, the derketo didn¡¯t stand idly by and let me eavesdrop. I had to beat and kick them off, which made listening in a chore. But despite Nanshe¡¯s order for them to bite me, the stupid creatures couldn¡¯t figure out how to sink their teeth through my thick robes.


    ¡°He¡¯s already made his presence known.¡± Nanshe flicked a hand at us, and then frowned when she saw how badly the derketo were struggling. ¡°If he weren¡¯t such a frail old man and this throng of bedwetters had actually done something, I would have dealt with him by now. As it is, I may need you to exterminate more than just this ¡®Prophet¡¯ by the day¡¯s end.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yes, my queen.¡± Galamma blinked. ¡°But there is more bad news.¡±


    ¡°So you said.¡± She sighed and rolled her hand. ¡°Out with it.¡±


    ¡°An astral projection that resembles our descriptions of the Carthian goddess, Malia, was spotted assaulting the barrier this morning.¡±


    ¡°Which we knew might happen, hence the barrier.¡±


    The Apkalla clenched and unclenched his fists. ¡°Yes, my queen. But the Seers fear¡ª¡±


    ¡°The Seers have been a bunch of yellow-livered cowards ever since they learned of Tamiyat¡¯s imminent return,¡± Nanshe spat. ¡°Now, do you have any important news? Or have I wasted precious breaths dispelling your useless drivel?¡±


    ¡°Uh, no, my queen.¡± Galamma clasped his hands and bowed stiffly at the waist. ¡°The Sea Mother has been spotted just outside the river delta.¡±

 Chapter 41: "The Escape"

    Nanshe rocked back as if slapped. ¡°What?¡±


    Ducking his head, Galamma gave her a sheepish look. ¡°The Sea Mother¡ª¡±


    ¡°I heard you the first time, you blithering idiot,¡± she snapped. Her head tentacles slapped against her neck as she shook her head, a disgusted look smeared across her face. ¡°You couldn¡¯t have told me that first?¡±


    ¡°As the queen says.¡± The merfolk dropped his eyes to the ground.


    ¡°And you¡¯ve mobilized the atargas?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± He looked up, encouraged by having done something right.


    Nanshe drilled him with a blind stare. ¡°Pray they¡¯re not as useless as these¡­¡± She trailed off as she noticed what I¡¯d just recently come to experience.


    The closest derketo collapsed onto me, but not with any strength. Mouth foaming, it began to twitch and quiver, its limbs trembling uncontrollably. I pushed it off me as it began to spasm harder and watched in awe as the other three collapsed as well. Soon all the vampiric merfolk, even the guards surrounding Thane, were rolling on the ground, their breaths bubbly and labored.


    Despite Nanshe¡¯s suspicious glare, it wasn¡¯t anything I¡¯d done. None of the guards still by Thane had even come near me. But I took the opportunity to rally my followers nevertheless.


    ¡°See the hand of the Sea Mother at work even now!¡± I cried. Setting my staff down, I brushed myself off and then retrieved the wood to lever myself up. It was a slow process, punctuated by my popping joints. The peasants shuffled close as I settled myself.


    Nanshe scowled. ¡°Absurd. Tamiyat has yet to breach her confines, and even if she were free, she would manifest her influence in a far more...direct fashion. I don¡¯t know how you managed this charade, and I don¡¯t particularly care. You¡¯ll pay for it nevertheless. Galamma.¡± She clicked her tongue at the Apkalla.


    With a grunt, he unfolded himself from his bow and stomped down the stairs towards me.


    ¡°You have called me old, frail, and useless. Yet how could I have done anything to them, assaulted upon the ground as I was?¡± I laughed. ¡°And yet you blame me for their shortcomings.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not that inept,¡± she snapped, her brows pinching. ¡°You must have done something to them. There¡¯s no way this was Tamiyat¡¯s doing.¡±


    My grin grew feral as Galamma stepped over the unconscious, or dead, guards around Thane, who still stood mute under his hood. ¡°Then you¡¯re in for a rude surprise.¡±


    The cultists, as Nanshe had called them, surged around me. My recovery and the sudden illness that had stricken the derketo emboldened them, and even though the heavy-set Apkalla bore down on them, they shouldered up and held their ground against him.In the back of my mind, my rational voice was screaming its head off because this was an insane bluff. Even if it worked, I had no way to capitalize on it. They were still just mortals, after all, commoners whose worship I still couldn¡¯t use. But the fervor in their eyes seemed to trigger something in the bulky merfolk.


    Galamma paused just out of arm¡¯s reach, eyeing them uncertainly. ¡°My queen, what should I do with the commoners?¡±


    ¡°If they¡¯re in your way,¡± Nanshe said, kneading her brow, ¡°kill them.¡±


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Before he could do anything, a giant explosion shook the sky. Palm trees splintered and fell, splashing into the river. Gulls wheeled in the sky, filling the air with their cacophonous cries. Everyone stumbled as the ground trembled, dust puffing from the stones beneath our feet. A sandy cloud sighed from the mouth of the temple, making the air hazy. The stench of saline saturated the wind, like the sea had passed salty gas.


    My staff clattered against the ground. I dropped it as soon as the surge hit me, but not from shock. Oh, no.This was much better than feeble old me getting his poor walking stick knocked out of his hands. No, this was power. Strength all around me, lines of energy swirling like a whirlpool.


    And not just me, but Thane as well. His black robes whipped around him in a fury, the hood flying off in a gust of wind and carried off to who knew where. Despite how deathly pale he looked, he had the biggest grin on his face. His eyes met mine and he mouthed, ¡®Show time¡¯ before bursting the chains that bound him. With his usual flamboyance, he flung the shattered links at Nanshe¡¯s feet.


    The goddess¡¯ face was flushed with rage. ¡°You...bastard!¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t be taking any heads today, I¡¯m afraid.¡± He flashed her a smile as he kicked off the anklet cuffs. ¡°Now, I believe I asked you a question before you so rudely interrupted.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Nanshe¡¯s teeth elongated into rows of fangs, like some monster from the deep. Her eyes filmed over with a golden glow, and the pressure of her aura slammed into us so hard the commoners around us cried out, both mine and hers. Water pooled at her feet so fast that, in a blink, she was wading up to her shins in saltwater. More water trailed off her head, rivulets spilling off the tips of her head tentacles. As she stalked across the plaza, the claws on her fingertips extended into thin talons, almost like more precise, controlled versions of the spears protruding from her mouth.


    Thane exuded nonchalance as he took his time removing the manacles from his wrists. ¡°Pity. I would¡¯ve enjoyed chatting a little longer.¡± With the last of his bindings removed, he tossed a manacle over his shoulder and then half-turned towards me. ¡°Why, Charax! What a pleasant surprise. Fancy seeing you all the way out here.¡±


    ¡°I had to chase your sorry ass because you were out past curfew again. Gave me flashbacks to teenage Hasda, you did.¡± While Thane was being disrespectfully flippant about the goddess he¡¯d royally pissed off, I had my eye on her and her underling. Galamma had shifted back from the sudden return of Thane¡¯s godly powers, but as Nanshe approached Thane, the merfolk shuffled forward in her wake. I moved closer myself, scooping my staff up with my foot as I went. ¡°Let¡¯s go have a talk.¡±


    ¡°And miss all the fun?¡± He flicked his hand towards Nanshe, who¡¯d gotten perilously close to him.


    ¡°Yes, you showboating idiot.¡± I shuffled forward a little faster as Nanshe raised her hand to strike. I was too far away to intervene before she struck, but I couldn¡¯t help the impulse. ¡°Now.¡±


    He cracked a grin. ¡°You didn¡¯t say please.¡±


    Nanshe speared him through the chest, her fist emerging bloody from his ribs. For a moment, nobody moved, and then Thane sighed.


    ¡°This wasn¡¯t my favorite robe.¡± He glanced down at the hole her dripping fist had created and frowned. ¡°But it was close.¡±


    With a snarl, Nanshe yanked her fist out and kicked Thane in the back. ¡°You mock me.¡±


    ¡°No, no,¡± he said, smoothing the frayed strands, ¡°you insult yourself. I¡¯m the damn God of Death, bitch. You¡¯ll have to try harder than that if you want to kill me.¡±


    I reached him and put a hand on his shoulder before Nanshe had recovered her poise enough for a proper response. I half-tugged, half-dragged him away from the goddess¡¯ death stare and unintelligible growls. ¡°All right, ease off and let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± He shrugged me off more forcefully than necessary and glared daggers at Nanshe. ¡°You know what happened to our Oracles?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I tightened my grip on my staff as Galamma moved to Thane¡¯s left, trying to circle around us.


    ¡°Fishface killed them.¡± His grin was almost feral now.


    I frowned. This was not a normal response from Thane. Yes, the deaths of our Oracles was disturbing, highly offensive, and beyond sufficient grounds for war with the Paedens, but there had to be more to this for their deaths to upset him so much.


    ¡°And they will stay mine,¡± Nanshe spat. Water poured from her hands, streamed down her chest. The air crackled as much from the salt as it did her power.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be begging for the privilege of returning them when I¡¯m through with you.¡± He shoved against my outstretched arm.


    I pushed back. ¡°Save it for the bedchamber, you two.¡± Snarling a curl of his robes, I pulled him close. ¡°Think, idiot,¡± I whispered harshly. ¡°I¡¯d be at half strength on a good day, and today isn¡¯t a good day. We need to get the hell out of here, now. We can come back for their souls later.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°No buts.¡± I elbowed him to stifle whatever protest he¡¯d been forming. ¡°We¡¯re leaving. I¡¯ll open a portal.¡±


    ¡°And leave Azoria behind?¡±


    I paused. ¡°You got her up your sleeve somewhere?¡±


    ¡°No¡­¡±


    My eyes tracked Galamma. I didn¡¯t like the way his muscles were tensing. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not particularly keen to figure out why a pissed-off goddess has stood there wetting herself the whole time we¡¯ve been talking. Now move.¡±


    Behind us, my orange portal fizzed, flickering as it struggled to materialize. Obviously, the barrier was down, but I¡¯d regressed pretty far my few days under it without my powers. I could feel a tension between my shoulderblades as I pushed more power into the opening.


    Just when I thought it had stabilized enough to risk a jump, I got knocked off my feet by a dark blur.

 Chapter 42: "The Collapse"

    A deluge poured over me, sweeping me off my feet. The water surged, battering me against several bodies, one of which felt like Thane. With how furious the water was, it was impossible to tell. Bubbles clouded my vision and popped in my nostrils. And, for the record, swimming in heavy robes sucked.


    Eventually the water settled, scattering us across the ground like soggy, lumpy fish. Thane was off to my right, legs in the air as the temple steps dug into his shoulders. Many other cultists and priests lay in uncomfortable positions as well, some so wound up in their robes it was hard to tell heads from butts.


    Coughing, I pushed myself off the ground, yanking at my sleeves as the wet fabric clung to my elbows. My staff was nowhere to be seen, but with my powers back, it would¡¯ve been simple ornamentation so it was no great loss. The Apkalla was nowhere to be seen, either. I couldn¡¯t see him or sense any aura, but with the massive energy levels radiating from Nanshe, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to sense Galamma even if he were still at the plaza.


    Nanshe¡¯s shoulders bobbed as she drew ragged breaths. Hunched over and dripping wet, she resembled a freshly-bathed cat, and her face looked just as pleased. Her eyes were practically miniature suns with how golden they¡¯d become, undimmed from her outburst. At her sides, she flexed her hands, talons screeching as she scraped them together.


    ¡°Hey!¡± I shouted over the squealing. ¡°Where¡¯s your guppy?¡±


    She slowly straightened her head, glaring at me through the ridges where her eyebrows would be. ¡°I sent him to deal with Tamiyat. I can only pray that he and a legion of derketo are competent enough to return the prisoner to her cell.¡±


    Signal fires lit in the back of my mind, but I ignored them for now. Flashing my teeth, I grinned as I approached her. ¡°You¡¯re not worried you¡¯ll need his help? It is two versus one, after all.¡±


    ¡°Ah, a side of humor to this pile of dung.¡± She sniffed. ¡°I have more than enough power to handle a pair of washed-up, half-dead¡ª¡± Her voice caught on the phrase, and she tilted her head at me.


    My grin widened. ¡°Do continue.¡±


    ¡°Half...dead.¡± She rolled the phrase around her tongue, looking disgusted and displeased. ¡°You reek of death, but you¡¯re not the God of Death. How?¡±


    ¡°I was.¡± I couldn¡¯t help the feeling of pride that washed over me, both at what I¡¯d once been and how confused that made her. In my peripheral vision, I saw Thane flanking Nanshe on her blind side, but I kept my eyes steady. ¡°Now? It¡¯s complicated, but you can consider me one of the Gods of War.¡±


    ¡°Pathetic.¡± She flared her hands, crouching to pounce. ¡°You¡¯re not even strong enough to hold a dominion by yourself.¡±


    Thane grabbed his scythe as it materialized by his side. As he raised it, Nanshe crouched and twirled, kicking up an arc of water that knocked him back. She spun on her heel, raising a vortex around her. Water slapped my feet, waves rippling as Nanshe poured more seawater onto the plaza. When the vortex reached twice my height, a wave surged out.


    Well, shit.


    Even with my powers marginally restored, my body was never going to outrun that thing. Forearms crossed in front of me, I braced myself and took the wave head-on. It felt like getting an aggressive hug from a brick wall, and the force nearly knocked me off my feet. My vision swam with stars, and I coughed to get the salty taste out of my mouth.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Nanshe advanced as I was still picking myself up. ¡°Is that really all you have?¡±


    ¡°Just getting warmed up.¡± I staggered, falling to a knee as I struggled to stand up. ¡°You¡¯ll see¡­¡±


    I trailed off as I saw her. She¡¯d dropped the vortex, or maybe used it up in that tidal wave, but she stood tall, head tentacles flared in a halo, hands channeling streams ready to lance forward at a moment¡¯s notice. But it wasn¡¯t the display of power that caught my eye. No, it was the fact that her skin was rapidly changing color. And not just that, but lighting up, too. Pulses of pale blue light raced down her tentacles and face, bands of burgundy and bronze trailing alternating between the bioluminescence.


    ¡°Neat trick.¡± I grinned. ¡°You must be really popular at parties. Or the circus.¡±


    A jet of water slammed into my chest but with half the force of the tidal wave. Although it rocked me back, I managed to keep my footing. And I could feel the tingle of my power in my veins. Not thawed enough to do any serious damage yet, but returning nevertheless. But if I could keep her annoyed and distracted long enough, I could probably work up something nasty, or give Thane a chance to get a strike in while her attention was elsewhere. Probably.


    Speaking of the devil, he was taking his sweet-ass time about doing something. I took another blow from a water javelin across my cheek and had to quickly duck a third. The sudden movement made my ears feel inflated and my head swam. Nothing a little ambrosia couldn¡¯t fix, if I¡¯d had any. I giggled. If only I¡¯d brought some with me. But silly me, avoiding Nebesa for as long as I had, how would I have thought to be remotely prepared for anything? Another chuckle escaped me right before a thick column of water slapped me across the face, knocking my head back and clacking my teeth together.


    ¡°What on earth are you laughing about?¡± Nanshe demanded. Another whip of water spiraled above her.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you like to know.¡± I cackled. I couldn¡¯t help myself. Not only was my vision going blurry again, I was practically giddy, which was very, very bad. She was barely damaging me, and yet all my recovered energy was going towards preventing damage and restoring what had occurred. Belatedly I realized that the tingling I¡¯d felt was my body regenerating at an accelerated rate, and the mental fog and black rings in my peripherals meant I was exerting myself too much. But I had my powers back, if only in part, so that shouldn¡¯t have been a problem. Right?


    The world tilted. My nose crunched against the stone, my knees hammering into the hard ground as the whip snapped across my ankles. When had she struck? I hadn¡¯t even heard the crack as the water went supersonic. And it had. My fractured ankles told me as much.


    ¡°Drop your avatar!¡± Thane shouted. His scythe flashed as he twirled around Nanshe, trying to carve through her protective vortex. She was still pulsing with that strange light, and several times Thane¡¯s steps faltered in their dance of war. That light must have some mesmeric properties or something. So pretty.


    Fog. Sparkles. Oil-spilled rainbows on the surface of seas. The fangs of hunger tearing at my abdomen. Sleepy, so sleepy. Nose pain. Hard to breathe. Avatar?


    Excruciating torment spiked in my chest. The delirium cleared, revealing that strange priestess with the white face and funny expressions. Her eyes were pinched with worry, her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger in my chest. Water had streaked through the powder on her face, revealing the telltale tan hue of a Paeden.


    ¡°Charax?¡± she whispered. Her breath puffed against me, and she was so close I thought we were hugging. But then the pain lanced across my chest again, and I remembered the dagger still embedded there.


    Ah, she was trying to kill me.


    I laughed. Even without being half delirious, it was still a funny thought. ¡°Can¡¯t kill a god,¡± I mumbled. My eyes rolled, my head tilted, the world swam.


    She twisted the knife, and I gasped. ¡°Drop the body, you idiot.¡±


    ¡°Drop...what?¡± I coughed blood and sagged against her. Ow.


    ¡°Eject!¡± Snarling, she yanked the blade out and stabbed me once, twice, thrice. The last strike pierced my solar plexus, and I retched on her white tunic, staining it yellow and red.


    That hurt, gods damn it.


    ¡°Why, you¡­¡± I gasped. Or tried to, anyways. I wasn¡¯t sure my tongue was quite obeying my commands. And my voice sounded congested. Oh, yeah, the broken nose bit.


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    One moment, she was before me, the next, she was on my back. My robes tightened as she yanked on them, arching my spine as she pulled my head back. Like a sacrificial animal, she raised her knife over me, ready to sink it into my neck. The blade dripped with salt water and blood, the gray, exposed metal glinting in the sunlight. As the point plunged down, my spirit recoiled and pushed backwards, fleeing my body.


    The lifeless husk collapsed in her arms as the blade made contact. Gasping, she shot up and jerked back, flinging the knife away from her. What had once been my avatar crumbled to dust, dissolving into the water that had flooded the plaza.

 Chapter 43: "The Apparitions"

    Clarity.


    Everything snapped into sharp relief. The tiny peaks dimpling the water underfoot, like mountain ranges in miniature. The sighing of the wind as it congested with the heavy aroma of saltwater. The splash of blood swirling off the knife as the water bathed it. The broken leaves of the palm trees swaying in the breeze. The undead armies grappling each oth¡ª


    I blinked. The what?


    Pale apparitions floated across the water, the specters in various stages of corporeality and decay. Arms reaching, they moaned in tones that bordered exhaustion and ecstasy without being either and stumbled their way into whatever the Paeden horrors were called. They looked like derketo but were severely deformed, their arms, faces, and sides missing chunks of flesh. One was even missing half its skull, revealing glistening gray matter. Whether these absences came from their struggle against Thane¡¯s ghosts or from undevelopment, I couldn¡¯t tell, but the hideous creatures were issuing from under Nanshe¡¯s dress like rats fleeing a sinking ship out the only porthole. They wailed like drowning banshees, mouths hanging open from dislocated jaws and missing ligaments.


    Chills ran down my spine. Thane had never unearthed the dead in all his time since taking over from me. Raising an undead army was a risk, since it siphoned power from the summoning god. The derketo abominations, however, exuded a strange aura of life and death. While Nanshe looked like she was directly birthing the fountain of wretches, I sensed no fathering spirit singing in answer to the offspring. What I could feel made my toes curl.


    Nanshe was injecting the fatherless spawn with souls stripped from her underworld, siring monsters that were neither dead nor alive, but animated with a bastard form of life. And she wasn¡¯t holding back, either. As she clashed with Thane, flicking his scythe away with bursts of water, she poured her unbridled power into the spawning. The whole of her aura was on display, a baring of her soul that left me feeling embarrassed for how naked and utterly raw it felt. But that wasn¡¯t the worst of it.


    Gods never revealed all. Ever. Even when we fought each other, we always held something back. To reveal the extent of our powers was to expose ourselves to an inevitable doom. Without mystery, without the potential for infinity, we became bound creatures, and what could be defined could be limited, contained, and cast down. Only the most desperate or foolish gods unveiled themselves completely. And reckless gods were dangerous, because they had nothing left to lose.


    Despite the gravity of the situation, I couldn¡¯t help but breathe a sigh of relief. My mind was clear, now that I wasn¡¯t bogged down by that frail, finite mortal form. I¡¯d resumed my divine body which, to be fair, wasn¡¯t in much better condition, but it wasn¡¯t mired in the fog of hunger and sleep deprivation. I felt good, all the sluggishness from before evaporated. My mind was just catching up to the ¡°why¡± I felt this way when someone yanked on the front of my robes.


    ¡°Can you fight?¡±


    Ah, yes. The priestess who¡¯d stabbed me. Her eyes searched mine as she pressed another dagger against my chest.


    I laughed and slapped the dagger away. ¡°That won¡¯t work on me again. Not in this body, anyways.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t need to.¡± She released me and stepped back. ¡°Can you fight?¡±


    I squinted at her. She didn¡¯t look familiar, but I couldn¡¯t help feeling like I should at least know her, with how forward she was being and how comfortable she seemed around me. ¡°Azor¡ª?¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Don¡¯t. Not here.¡± Eyes flashing, she assumed a fighter¡¯s stance, the knife pointed at my chest. ¡°My cover is still intact, and it needs to stay that way. Thane can explain later. For now¡ª¡± her brow pinched as she frowned ¡°¡ªplease, help him.¡±


    So Azoria had embedded herself in the Paeden priesthood. Not unexpected from the Goddess of Wisdom, and I certainly understood the appeal of leaving her hidden. She could keep an eye on the enemy once this mess was sorted, maybe even take control of the priesthood if she hadn¡¯t already. But the commoners must have seen us talking by now. I couldn¡¯t just let her walk away unharmed if she were to keep her guise.


    Well, let¡¯s hope I still got it in me.


    With a grunt, I lunged forward, grabbing her wrist and pulling her in towards me. I sidestepped inside her arm and brought my palm up to her forehead and sent a burst of power into her. She gasped and collapsed, letting the dagger splash into the water. I twisted her to the ground, careful to set her on her back so her avatar wouldn¡¯t drown while unconscious.


    My chest heaved from the sudden exertion, but my veins were aflame. It felt good to be back. I flexed my fingers, shivering as energy surged down my arms. Oh yeah. Really good.


    Less good was the battling duo of gods. The armies of both sides had grown considerably, and while Thane had generations of fallen to call on, Nanshe needed to partially...er, ¡°grow¡± hers. But she showed no signs of slowing down, her movements becoming more aggressive the longer she clashed with Thane.


    I winced as he got in a good blow. His scythe cut through a wave and caught her behind the elbow, nearly taking her lower arm off. Dark ichor poured from the wound, staining her vortex like an ink plume. Thane reversed his scythe and came in for an overhand blow, but she ducked and speared him with a dozen jets of water. With Thane off balance, she surged forward and knocked him to the ground, drowning him under a column of water.


    ¡°Hey!¡± I sprinted across the plaza, putting as much power as I could muster into my muscles. ¡°Fish face!¡±


    ¡°You.¡± She spun, her eyes alight.


    I almost instinctively pulled up. Her voice had taken on an echo from how much divine energy she was leaking, and her aura returned in force. It was far less crushing, now that I had an immortal frame to bear it, but it nearly sucked my breath away. As I stumbled, I also noticed the severed ends of tentacles on the left side of her head. Thane must have gotten in another glancing blow, but she hadn¡¯t even noticed. If she wasn¡¯t giving any thought to regeneration, she had really lost control.


    The air crackled as she raised her hands. ¡°You have no idea what consequences your actions have.¡±


    ¡°Well, considering I¡¯m getting a friend out of an unpleasant situation, I think I might.¡± I slid to a halt just out of arm¡¯s reach. The derketo abominations continued to issue forth around me, but they ignored me to grapple with Thane¡¯s apparitions.


    As I squared off against Nanshe, I reinforced my fists with extra essence. I could go for my Sword, but with how she shrugged off several blows from Thane¡¯s Scythe, I didn¡¯t think she¡¯d particularly care about it. Plus, hands on was the best way to tackle this problem. I could channel energy into her if we made prolonged contact, and I could simply pummel her into submission if need be. Thane was taking his sweet time getting out of that water, though, so I had to keep her talking while I waited for an opening to tackle her.


    Droplets of ice formed in the air between us and then exploded as lightning arced among them. More sparks danced along her blue skin, which started cycling through bands of pale light and darkness. Her eyes locked onto mine as she hovered just a hair above the water.


    ¡°The barrier is gone.¡± Her voice had adopted a third echo and fallen in pitch, rumbling with a hint of thunder. ¡°We didn¡¯t think it would contain her, but it should have slowed her down enough for us to bind her once again. Should have.¡± She punctuated those last words with blasts of chunky ice water.


    My crossed arms stung as I bore the brunt of the attack. ¡°Right. Which is exactly why you slaughtered our priests and kidnapped and tried to execute one of our own.¡±


    ¡°Would you have an enemy at your back while you struggle against a monster?¡± The water beneath her feet became agitated, the waves choppy and undisturbed by the bastard merfolk splashing into them. It was unsettling, the dissonance that image created.


    I shook my head and tried to focus. I could feel tendrils of her energy snaking through the water, seeking my footing. Shuffling my feet, I edged towards her weak side, the arm that was still leaking ichor.


    ¡°All right. Say I believe you.¡± Another step, a tremor of something beneath the flagstones. ¡°You do realize that¡¯s still an act of war, right? It was hard enough justifying counter moves to your reclaiming ancestral territory, but now¡­¡± I shrugged. ¡°We have an open invitation.¡±


    ¡°As do we,¡± Nanshe snapped. ¡°I didn¡¯t just catch him¡ª¡± she pointed at Thane, who¡¯d begun thrashing under the surface, ¡°¡ªout for an afternoon stroll. And that priestess who¡¯s working with you.¡± Her sudden laugh was unsettling and grated on my ears and nerves. ¡°She must have killed our Seers. It¡¯s the only way the barrier could have fallen.¡± She shook her head, a maniacal grin on her face. ¡°I knew something was special about her, but I never would have guessed that.¡±


    ¡°Life¡¯s full of surprises.¡± I tested the ground with my toes. Solid, no hints of her energy destabilizing it. I tensed. ¡°Like this.¡±

 Chapter 44: "The Arrival"

    Thane burst from the water as I lunged.


    Snarling, Nanshe wrapped her vortex around herself, spears of ice swirling in the protective wall. I tried to dig my hands into the water, but the fluid was flowing too fast and flung my hands away. Something crunched as Thane¡¯s scythe made contact, but those ice spears must have been dense because a moment later the weapon went flying out of his hand.


    ¡°Imbeciles,¡± Nanshe hissed. The chaotic echo in her voice had gotten worse. Ice javelins launched from the vortex, trailed by water whips that stung horribly. I couldn¡¯t see her face through the funnel of water, but I was pretty sure the pale pulses of light shimmering across the roiling waves had taken on a desperate tempo.


    ¡°Sticks and stones, sweetie.¡± I pinched my fingers together, forming a wedge, and speared the water as quickly as I could. My wrist ached as columns of ice slammed into it, but I managed to breach her vortex.


    Nanshe screamed as my fist plunged into her chest. With my fingertips reinforced, I managed to get all the way up to my thumb knuckle into her greasy, rubbery skin. Warm ichor spilled into my palm, clinging to my skin even after I¡¯d pulled my hand back through the scouring vortex.


    As I shook my hand and tried to get the dark stains off, I noticed the crumpled bodies of derketo horrors around my feet. Huh. She must have turned some of them against me, but they wouldn¡¯t be able to get to me through my aura. As distraught as Nanshe was, she wasn¡¯t stupid. She knew those abominations couldn¡¯t touch me. So why would she just throw them away?


    Inky water splashed on my face as Nanshe¡¯s vortex collapsed. With the loss of its binding force, the twister spun out like a blooming flower. Inside, Nanshe stood gasping with the tip of Thane¡¯s scythe protruding a hand¡¯s length out of her chest. Slimy green ooze spilled from the corner of her mouth.


    ¡°At least you tried.¡± Her breathing sounded labored, her chest shivering against the scythe embedded in it. Frost began to form around the wound, and after a moment she reached up and snapped the protruding blade off. Behind her, Thane yelped and jerked away as a bolt of lightning split the arm of the scythe and burned his hands. Nanshe laughed, wet and unsettling. Her sightless eyes rolled as her head tilted. ¡°I think I¡¯ve had enough of your child¡¯s play. Time to put the children to bed.¡±


    ¡°So be it.¡± I dashed forward and punched, putting my weight into it. The hard surface that crunched beneath my knuckles was unexpected, as was the searing pain that raced along the back of my hand.


    OW.


    Somehow, Nanshe had materialized a thick barrier of ice between us in what felt like the blink of an eye. Since I hadn¡¯t seen her raise a wave, she¡¯d probably frozen the water vapor in the air, and from the heavy dusting of frost across my back, she¡¯d had to condense quite a lot of it from a wide area. I would¡¯ve been impressed if my hand wasn¡¯t throbbing so much. Damn it, that really hurt.


    It sounded like Thane was having a worse time than I was. The howls of the abominations had reached a fevered pitch, and from the currents of power swirling in the air, they were starting to outnumber and overpower his specters. The flavor of the Paeden necromancy had changed as well, assuming a more traditional undead vibe than the previous half-life hue. My gut had a sick feeling in it, which probably meant that the derketo monstrosities could become undead, once their bastard lives had been taken. With Thane¡¯s less than stellar proficiency at raising the dead, it was only a matter of time before the Carthian shades returned to Peklo, and then we¡¯d really be out of luck.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    I prised my fingers into the crack I¡¯d formed in the wall of ice and strained against it. From the yells and wet slaps, it sounded like Thane had Nanshe¡¯s full attention. I huffed. Damn, this ice was thick. My fingers were going to freeze off before I cracked a wider gap. If only I had one of Phaeus¡¯ branding irons, or¡­


    Well, my sword couldn¡¯t burst into flames, but it was better than nothing. Summoning it and setting its point into the crack, I gave the frosty blue surface an angry glare. I couldn¡¯t melt through it like Malia, but I could still make it tremble.


    The ice hissed and cracked as minor fissures radiated from the tip of the sword. As I put more weight and power behind the sword, I felt a cold, tingly sensation wash over me, like the ghost of the barrier at the border. My hands went partially numb but I kept pressing against the wall of ice.


    SNAP!


    Nanshe screamed as my blade plunged into her. Chunks of ice floated in the air around us, suspended by the slow motion that comes when chaos draws out time. I saw her sightless eyes widen, watched the pain tug at the corners of her mouth as my sword pierced her chest and embedded itself to the hilt in her chest. Her arms flew wide as we collided, lightning spurting from her fingers. Then time sped up, and momentum flung us over. We splashed heavily in the water, salt and slime stinging my eyes.


    ¡°Got you.¡± Nanshe smiled and coughed ichor. The air crackled as her head tentacles wrapped themselves about me, latching on with their wet suction cups. Each had something sharp in its depression, maybe a needle or a beak, and as they pricked my face I felt something trickle under my skin.


    My vision went dark, and try as I might I couldn¡¯t yank myself away from Nanshe. When I tried to leverage against my sword, the blade snapped, probably brittle from whatever frost trick Nanshe had used on Thane¡¯s scythe. The sensation of ants danced across my skin, everywhere but the circles where Nanshe¡¯s suckers were injecting their toxins. Her laughter filled the small, cramped space.


    ¡°Enjoy your sanity while it lasts,¡± she whispered. ¡°We¡¯ll have nothing but panic and madness when she arrives.¡±


    Something sharp nicked the tip of my nose. Light flooded my eyes. Shrieking, Nanshe flew back, fountains of ichor pouring from her severed tentacles. Thane stood over her with the most terrible scowl I¡¯d ever seen on him, his scythe arcing back in front of him as he completed his stroke.


    ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of you.¡± He tried to stomp her, but she scrambled away, splashing water and laughing maniacally. Thane gripped his scythe and went for another sweep.


    The stubs of her ruined tentacles slapped the sides of her head as she crawled away. ¡°Yes, yes, enough of everything.¡± Her eyes were wild, her mouth twisted in a wicked grin. ¡°Can¡¯t you feel it yet? She¡¯s almost here.¡±


    I pried off the dead tentacles and flung them in the water. ¡°You¡¯re insane.¡±


    ¡°No, never.¡± She bared her fangs at us. ¡°More sane than you¡¯ve ever been. Only the mad would let her out.¡± She tilted her head so suddenly, it creeped me out. ¡°Did she get to you? Do you serve her?¡± She gasped. ¡°How long have we been preceded?¡±


    Shivers wormed their way down my spine, mingling in strange ways with the tingling of the leftover poisons. My body was purging the toxins slowly, but there was no divine healing that could shake how unnerved I felt about her sudden personality shift. It was almost as if¡­


    Like a storm rolling in, a heavier aura filled the air, dispelling the chill Nanshe had exuded. It was almost comical how easily the new presence batted her aura away. But it was terrifying, too, because, for all Nanshe¡¯s bluster, she really had the power to back up her oppressive presence. And this new being radiated such power it dwarfed all of us combined.


    But it was a warm presence, like leaving the cold of a mountain river for the warmth of a spring. Cinnamon and pepper spiced the air, carried on a cloud of myrrh. It made my nose itch and cleared away the nausea and disorientation I¡¯d felt with ease. And, worst of all, it made my hackles rise.


    Thane flinched, his shocked eyes finding mine. He shivered. ¡°Do you feel it?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    ¡°What about her?¡± He jerked his head at the gibbering merfolk queen.


    ¡°Not our problem.¡± Fighting off the shakes, I drew a portal in the air with my trembling hands and poured my power into the rent, which took its sweet ass time opening up.


    Thane frowned and folded his arms. ¡°She still has the souls of our Oracles.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s going anywhere anytime soon. We can come back.¡± My shoulders shook with the effort of opening the portal. This environment was absolutely awful. Before, I¡¯d been able to at least strain some magic from the surroundings, despite the territory being under Paeden control. Now, with this new power pissing its claim all over everything, I couldn¡¯t even get the hostile magic to respond, much less acknowledge it still laced the earth. And Thane was throwing a tantrum about the dead.


    ¡°Come back? Do you realize¡ª?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you idiot,¡± I said, gritting my teeth. ¡°I was culling souls before you were a twinkling of a divine idea. That¡¯s my old scythe you¡¯re holding. Now get off your ass and help me open this.¡±

 Chapter 45: "The Kite"

    Thane splashed up behind me and rested a hand on my shoulder. His touch emanated both chill and divine power across my shoulders, a strange, death-tinged warmth blossoming between my shoulder blades. Although I knew he was trying to suppress it, I felt his fingers tremble against my back.


    The portal sputtered and then brightened, the orange fringe solidifying in the air before us. I didn¡¯t ask about where Thane was siphoning his magic from because I was pretty sure I didn¡¯t want to know.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°Did you see Azoria? Is she okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded, straining against the threads to the portal. Stupid bastard was trying to jerk away and disintegrate. ¡°I don¡¯t know where she went, but she¡¯s not coming back with us. Which doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re abandoning her, just that¡ª¡±


    ¡°I get it.¡± His fingers tightened on my robes. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    I nodded again and set my mind on the task at hand. But I couldn¡¯t help processing the blurry images in my peripherals. A shallow pool covered the ground from Nanshe¡¯s vortex and the storm clouds she¡¯d drawn from the Great Sea, which had begun sprinkling in a prelude to the coming downpour. Bodies of twice-fallen derketo horrors littered the ground, their carcasses growing bloated. Apparitions disappeared in bursts of fog as the undead merfolk monstrosities disapparated them.


    The commoners that had followed me to the temple had disappeared completely, however, once the fighting started, as well as Nanshe¡¯s priests. Although I¡¯d knocked Azoria unconscious, either she¡¯d recovered and vanished or the waves had washed her away, because I couldn¡¯t see or sense her anywhere. Just dozens of preternatural dots pricking my divine senses as the undead armies clashed. Even Nanshe¡¯s aura had diminished, withdrawn as she raved in the shallows.


    The whole situation was a mess. Once we were out, we¡¯d regroup with Seppo and see what he wanted to do about the elder god, if anything. After all, she¡ª


    ¡°Watch out!¡±


    Thane wrenched me away from the nearly-complete portal, throwing himself in front of me as a dark shape swooped down on us. His scythe, held in a diagonal guard in front of him, cracked as the strange creature collided with it. The impact blasted him over me, nearly dislocating my shoulder. It didn¡¯t look any more fun for Thane, who lost his hold on his weapon as he ragdolled across the surface of the water.


    His winged assailant fared no better, sending up a plume of water as they crashed into the ground. They hit the ground so hard I could hear the crunch of bone as something snapped. Shaking off water, the figure stood up and flung a round, gourd-like object at Nanshe. ¡°Got you a present, bitch.¡±


    The merfolk queen didn¡¯t react, chittering as she rocked back and forth on the ground.


    I summoned my spear and pulled myself up with it. This newcomer was certainly a threat, but since she¡¯d gone after Nanshe first, perhaps she wouldn¡¯t be antagonistic to us yet. As she turned and I got a good look at the expression on her face, I quickly changed my assessment.


    Perhaps ¡°harpy¡± was the closest equivalent to what kind of creature she was. Large wings with mottled brown feathers extended off her back, the tips tinted black like she¡¯d dipped them in an inkwell. Her face was human except for the sharp, pointed beak and the dark feathers that hugged her head in place of hair. Tan plumage hugged her neck, descending down her body all the way to her thighs. Her arms and lower legs were armored in golden scales, obsidian claws tipping her fingers and toes. The tail flicking behind her resembled a hawk¡¯s, although it was slightly forked. So a kite, then.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Her eyes were the worst part, though. Black and beady, they were filled with murder, and considering that what she¡¯d thrown at Nanshe was Galamma¡¯s severed head, I didn¡¯t really think she was in a friendly mood at the moment. She also bled power, an energy that felt borrowed rather than innate, its signature ancient. I couldn¡¯t help breaking her stare, though, as I saw the feathers above her right knee swirl as the shattered bone pulled back beneath her skin and reknit itself as her loaned power healed her.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Her voice was fierce, the enhanced words hitting me like a slap in the face.


    ¡°I could ask you the same thing.¡± I kept my grip on my spear firm but non-threatening.


    ¡°Lazuli.¡± The harpy sniffed. ¡°I can smell that you¡¯re foreign.¡± She paused. ¡°And a god. So why the games?¡±


    I shrugged, forcing a smile. ¡°Without the games, what else is there to do?¡±


    ¡°Fair.¡± She gestured at Nanshe, who¡¯d taken to rolling on her back and gurgling. ¡°Did you do this to my kill?¡±


    ¡°The haircut was Thane¡¯s idea.¡±


    She blinked. ¡°The...what?¡±


    ¡°The shorn tentacles?¡± I let my spear rest against my shoulder and mimed chopping at my non-existent hair. ¡°The unintelligible babbling is a recent development, though, and I can¡¯t claim any credit for that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right.¡± She gave a fierce smile and twisted her leg as her knee popped, the last of the healing finished. ¡°Tamiyat¡¯s influence. Well, perhaps the Sea Mother will withhold her madness long enough for me to get some proper revenge on that whore.¡±


    ¡°Ah, the Sea Mother. I¡¯ve heard so much about her.¡± I kept my eyes on Lazuli¡¯s, pointedly ignoring the sudden chill that settled on my shoulder as Thane absorbed dozens of souls as he forcibly healed himself.


    The harpy felt the cold as well, but merely shivered once. ¡°All good things, I hope?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I had a biased source,¡± I said, flicking a hand at Nanshe.


    ¡°Perhaps you¡¯d like to meet her?¡± Her eyes flashed. She pointed north, where the clouds were darkest and thickening fast. ¡°She¡¯ll be here soon.¡±


    I squinted at the cloud formation, struggling to make out any details. Like a solid wall of foam, the clouds roiled together as they rolled over the Sea, surging up to collapse under the clouds behind them. Sheet lightning flashed, stripping clouds of their depth as they were illuminated from within. Slow and steady, an outline formed behind the storm of a snout large enough to swallow the tempest whole.


    Shit.


    A pair of eyes, each larger than Nanshe¡¯s temple, peaked through the stormfront. For a brief moment, our eyes connected, and I felt my sanity splinter.


    Doomed. We were all doomed. That thing was far bigger, far more powerful, than the best we could muster. We would be crushed underfoot, and she wouldn¡¯t even realize she¡¯d squashed us. A being who thrived on primordial forces, who made the very fabric of reality her plaything, how could we hope to withstand her will? My heart pounded in my ears as my vision darkened. Not even death would bring solace from her, no escape in an eternal end. She would follow us wherever we went, no matter how far we ran, how hard we struggled. We were caught, every one, in her snare, and she would harvest us at her pleasure.


    Yet she paled in comparison to the terror I¡¯d felt of the Sibyl in my dreams. The absurdity of the juxtaposition ripped laughter from my frozen lips. I clutched my spear as my vision returned, clinging to the lifeline of corporeality as my sanity returned.


    The harpy gave me a look that sent shivers down my spine. It was a curious look mixed with...hunger and intrigue, and not the good kinds. ¡°You resist her influence. How?¡±


    I coughed and put a hand to my racing heart. Stupid thing felt like it was going to rattle right out of my chest. ¡°She¡¯s not the scariest thing I¡¯ve seen.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Lazuli¡¯ nostrils flared.


    ¡°After my wife?¡± I laughed. ¡°The only person who¡¯s come close was this crazy dream lady I¡¯m not even sure was real.¡±


    Her eyes narrowed. ¡°Is that a jest?¡±


    ¡°It could be.¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± a smile flickered across her face, one I disliked even more than her hungry gaze, ¡°the Sea Mother could use a powerful god like you.¡± She flexed her hands, making the air crackle with energy. ¡°Just look at me. A minor god mocked by her pantheon, spat upon and sentenced to the most humiliating of labors. Now?¡± Grinning, she glanced over her shoulder at Nanshe. ¡°I can master her with a word. And you could be so much more than you are, with Tamiyat¡¯s blessing.¡±


    ¡°As tempting as your offer is, I think I¡¯ll have to pass.¡± I shook my head. ¡°My wife would kill me if I did.¡±


    While Malia might, metaphorically, there¡¯d be nothing figurative about dying from being subservient to the Sea Mother. Minor gods were minor because their powers were, well, minor. They couldn¡¯t handle massive amounts of divine energy and they¡¯d burn out¡ªquite literally¡ªif they were supercharged for too long. Although her wound had healed, Lazuli was still bleeding energy down her leg. She was young, overconfident, and in way over her head. She had no way of knowing she was slowly killing herself.


    I shivered. And the total disregard Tamiyat¡ªthe Sea Mother or whatever else the elder bitch decided to call herself¡ªhad for the bearer of her Blessing chilled me. Not only did she disrespect the bond with her empowered, but she was strong enough to overcharge a goddess and not even blink at the exertion. Such callousness was not a trait I wanted in any head of my pantheon, and didn¡¯t bode well for the kind of underling serving the Sea Mother. If we had to fight her elder pantheon, we were in for a bad time.

 Chapter 46: "The Escape"

    Lazuli didn¡¯t take too kindly to the rejection. Her brow furrowed as her eyes bored into mine.


    ¡°How...flippant you are.¡± She took a step forward, then glanced down in disgust at the water sloshing underfoot. ¡°Disgraceful, like your constant allusions to a wife who can only pale in comparison to the great Sea Mother.¡±


    ¡°Well, now, there you might be wrong.¡± I adjusted my grip on my staff and stepped sideways, edging towards where Thane kneeled. Although his head was bowed, his hair obscuring his eyes, I knew he wasn¡¯t just sitting idle. Any moment now he¡¯d have gathered enough energy to open his own portal, and then we¡¯d be out of here.


    Nanshe thrashed in the water, foaming at the mouth.


    I frowned. Or maybe not. We couldn¡¯t just leave her like that, to suffer whatever recreational torture a millenia-enslaved elder goddess had dreamed up during her internment. Or Lazuli, for that matter.


    The harpy followed my gaze. ¡°Surely...surely not her?¡±


    ¡°Beg your pardon?¡±


    ¡°I mean, cross-pantheon pollination isn¡¯t unheard of.¡± Lazuli grimaced. ¡°But I would never have thought¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh, no. No love lost there.¡± I kept my feet beneath the surface of the water to keep from splashing and drawing attention to my movement. ¡°Nanshe might be unpleasant, but she¡¯s got nothing on my wife.¡±


    ¡°What a possessive phrase, ¡®your wife.¡¯¡± Lazuli scowled as she stumbled through the water. Her wings flared, casting a spray of excess energy into the air. ¡°Does she have a name?¡±


    ¡°Names carry weight and power,¡± I said, continuing to back away. ¡°And if you don¡¯t already know who she is, well, I¡¯d rather not give you a head start on learning her history and what she¡¯s capable of.¡±


    ¡°So you expect to side against us.¡± She gained on me, but she hadn¡¯t all-out attacked me yet, so that was something. But I didn¡¯t think my spear would be able to do much damage. For all I knew, her quick regeneration might just heal with the spear still inside her, and then I¡¯d really be in a spot.


    ¡°I¡¯m not particularly keen on fighting anyone right now.¡±


    Thane needed to hurry up because I really didn¡¯t like the atmosphere. The air was heavy and growing thick with Tamiyat¡¯s influence, weighing down on me like an ocean of sand. Undercurrents of power crackled through the humidity, lacing the air with the stench of spent lightning. Worst of all was the smell spilling off Lazuli, singed hair, burnt flesh, the decay of a day-old corpse. She probably couldn¡¯t smell herself, but she should have at least sensed the havoc that excess power was wreaking on her body.


    She snapped her beak, misreading my expression. ¡°The only one worthy of pity is you, old coward. We¡¯re not afraid of the established pantheons. The Sea Mother has prepared for you. If you will not bow, you will be crushed.¡±


    ¡°Consider this an invitation to come visit, when you¡¯re settled into your new territory.¡± Not liking the slant of her footing, I shifted my grip and prepared for her to charge. ¡°Thane.¡±


    ¡°Kinda busy.¡± His voice was soft and raspy, like he¡¯d been trying to out-scream a snowstorm for several hours.


    ¡°I think you dropped something.¡± My eyes never left Lazuli¡¯s. She had absolutely no warface, her next movements plainly signaled. A drop of her shoulders, a twist of her hips. If she were going to pounce, it was going to be soon. ¡°Want me to pick it up for you.¡±


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°Sure,¡± he gasped.


    A thunderclap as Lazuli lunged forward. The water cratered behind her, geysers whipping the air as she shot forward. I barely managed to angle my spear in time, and even then the impact rattled my bones and nearly snapped my wrists. The shaft slammed into my chest, knocking the wind out of me, and Lazuli bounced to the side. Her landing was far from graceful, and the water did nothing to soften the blow. I was fairly sure she¡¯d snapped her wing, with how it twisted out of the water.


    ¡°Time to go!¡± I vanished my spear and sprinted as best I could through the water. To my right, Thane slowly rose to his feet, thick mist spilling off him as he toyed with the strings of his portal, nearly freezing the water beneath him in the process. How many souls¡ªdidn¡¯t matter, we needed to get out of here. I stumbled to a halt next to Nanshe and scooped her out of the water. Her severed tentacles had stopped oozing ichor but were uncomfortably slimy and seeped through my drenched robes, as if supplanting the water.


    When I turned towards Thane¡¯s minty green portal, Lazuli was venting twin helixes of fuschia-colored energy far into the sky. I didn¡¯t know what that meant, and I didn¡¯t care to find out. Half hobbling, half jogging, I carried Nanshe a dozen or so yards to Thane and dashed through the portal. A moment later, Thane slipped in behind me and sealed the rent.


    Inside the air was balmy and soothing, warmed by the fields of heated sand that filled Maas Myrna. I¡¯d still never worked out why Thane preferred miles and miles of unending, gritty, irritating sand, but this was the Maas he¡¯d chosen as his own and he¡¯d never given it a second thought. The fruity aroma wafting across the wind was a new addition, but didn¡¯t feel out of place with the backdrop of an eternally golden sky.


    Sighing, Thane took the opportunity to collapse face-first in the sand. Whatever he said, I couldn¡¯t make out since he left his mouth submerged beneath the coarse granules. But the sentiment carried.


    Familiar power pulsed through my veins, refreshing and reviving me. It was hard to explain, that dull throbbing beneath the surface of consciousness, and how utterly hostile the magic of the Paeden lands had been. Yet the contrast was only clear once we returned to the pure, Carthian magic.


    Nanshe didn¡¯t like it, however, and started jerking in my arms, still unconscious. Or maybe it was the heat. Either way, she was reacting to something, and I only knew of one quickly accessible water source.


    ¡°Get up. I¡¯m taking Nanshe to my place.¡±


    He mumbled something else and made a pathetic sand angel.


    ¡°Stop whining.¡± My portal flared to life beside me reassuringly quick and wonderfully solid. ¡°Get off your butt and let¡¯s go. When she¡¯s awake, you can help me recover the Oracles¡¯ souls.¡±


    Still mumbling unintelligibly, he pushed sand around as he waved his hand at me.


    I sighed, one foot already through the portal. ¡°You need to speak up, and be quick. It¡¯s hard enough trying to keep ahold of  her when she¡¯s not spasming like this.¡±


    Thane flopped onto his side. ¡°You do it.¡±


    ¡°What? Why?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m tired.¡±


    ¡°All right, you¡¯re obviously depressed because of all the souls you extinguished¡ª¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t about that,¡± he said, propping his head up on his arm. ¡°I suck at being the God of Death. Those Oracles would¡¯ve never been harvested by Nanshe if you¡¯d still been in office.¡±


    Frowning, I set the unconscious queen on the flagstones of the maas and sealed the portal. She didn¡¯t look like she¡¯d be waking up anytime soon, and even if she did, she couldn¡¯t escape from the maas, even in her best shape. Arms folded, I stared down at Thane. ¡°What¡¯s this all about?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®What¡¯s this all about?¡¯¡± He laughed and collapsed back onto the sand on his back. His robes rose and fell with his breathing. ¡°You¡¯ve always been the better God of Death. I only assumed the role because you¡¯d trained me for so long, and you were so eager to get to your retirement.¡±


    ¡°I had centuries of experience on you before you took office, of course I performed my duties better than you.¡± He must have absorbed a ton of souls to be feeling this level of aftereffect. Stripping souls of their eternal existence certainly wasn¡¯t an advisable course but, in emergencies, could be done as a power stim. The backlash of negative emotions meant it had remained a method of last resort for millenia. I¡¯d done it once myself, a long time ago, but I didn¡¯t remember the melancholy being this severe.


    Another sharp laugh. ¡°And the times you caught me sneaking off to play chef with Loutro?¡±


    ¡°We all had our diversions during our apprenticeships.¡± The warmth of the maas had worked its way through my muscles, and I rolled my shoulders to loosen the tension. ¡°I built the fountain in Maas Pirene, avoiding lessons from my predecessor.¡±


    ¡°Those weren¡¯t ¡®diversions,¡¯ Charax.¡± Smiling, he threw his arm across his eyes and chuckled. ¡°I would¡¯ve been content to stay a minor god, feasting and reveling to my heart¡¯s content.¡±


    I arched a brow at him. ¡°You? Avoid the limelight? Please.¡±


    He lifted his arm and peeked at me through his elbow. ¡°Point taken. Maybe we could make the God of Wine a major office.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring it up with Seppo when this whole affair gets settled, assuming you still wish to abdicate when you¡¯re sober.¡± Cracking my neck, I shook my arms and reopened the portal. ¡°But it¡¯ll take time to find a suitable replacement for you.¡±


    ¡°Why do we need to find a replacement? You¡¯re back.¡±


    I glanced over my shoulder at him. He still hadn¡¯t gotten up. Oh, come on. ¡°You know very well it doesn¡¯t work like that. Yes, I¡¯m back, but Malia and I currently co-Seat our office. And I haven¡¯t even reestablished worship yet, so I¡¯m not even close to properly sharing an office, let alone being able to resume my old role.¡±


    Thane huffed a laugh and flopped his arms out on the sand. ¡°Just...think about it, okay? I don¡¯t know how you put up with all this death for so long.¡±


    I blinked. That¡¯s what he thought? That I¡¯d managed to master the weight of death over the centuries? As if.


    But appearances did have their uses.


    ¡°All right, I¡¯ll consider it.¡± I stamped over and pulled him to his feet. ¡°Let¡¯s go get our Oracles back, before they worm their way out of Nanshe¡¯s chest, or something else less pleasant.¡±

 Chapter 47: "The Collection"

    Nanshe was still unconscious on the ground where I¡¯d left her when we entered Maas Pirene. Her breathing was shallow and uneven, with no pattern to when she skipped a breath. At least her severed tentacles had healed to stubs and she wasn¡¯t leaking power uncontrollably.


    Thane stepped aside as I snagged her off the ground and carried her over to the fountain. What worried me more than her erratic breathing was how light she¡¯d gotten in the scant few minutes I¡¯d left her alone. Well, hopefully this worked, otherwise we¡¯d have a potentially permanently incapacitated goddess on our hands.


    As I dragged her to the edge of the burbling fountain, Thane saw fit to voice his concerns. ¡°You sure about this?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be doing it if I weren¡¯t.¡± Without waiting for his reply, I shoved Nanshe¡¯s head into the water and held her under.


    For a long moment, nothing happened. Her breathing remained unsteady, her eyes closed, and her general state unconscious. But then she jerked, trying to pull away from me. I held firm, keeping in the water that I hoped was healing her. She wriggled in my grip, pulling herself up to her shoulders into the water.


    When her breathing stabilized, I hauled her out and spun her around. ¡°Morning, princess.¡±


    ¡°Unhand me at once.¡± She slapped at my hand but couldn¡¯t dislodge it.


    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± I said, not easing up. ¡°But we have some questions, and you¡¯ll give us the answers.¡±


    ¡°And if I don¡¯t?¡± She turned her nose up, her face haughty despite how haggard she looked.


    I sighed. ¡°At the very least, we¡¯re retrieving the souls of our Oracles, whether or not you give them willingly. Beyond that, it¡¯s your own doom you¡¯re sealing if you refuse.¡±


    She humphed and tried to pull away, but I held on.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡± I pinned her arms to her side and pressed her against the fountain¡¯s edge. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have dragged you here and healed you, in my fountain, if I were just going to throw you into the Sea Mother¡¯s wrath. But if you want our help, we need to know what we¡¯re up against.¡±


    ¡°You? Help us?¡± She sneered. ¡°You lie.¡±


    Thane¡¯s scythe glinted as it slipped beneath her chin. I hadn¡¯t even heard him move, but he had the blade pressed against the underside of her jaw and pushed her head to the side. ¡°Now you listen,¡± he hissed, his voice cold. ¡°I don¡¯t particularly care for you, and I know the feeling is mutual. But if Charax says he¡¯ll help, he means it.¡± He paused and shot me a look. All kinds of questions were sketched across his face.


    I nodded. ¡°Elder gods have a habit of annihilating those beneath them. It¡¯s cruel, what they do. I wouldn¡¯t wish that on anyone. Besides¡ª¡± I couldn¡¯t help grinning at her confused expression. ¡°¡ªonce she¡¯s done feeding on you, she¡¯ll probably turn her eyes outwards. The primal gods could never help themselves from a good conquest.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s the catch. Selfish bastards, savage barba¡ª¡± She coughed as Thane twisted the shaft of his scythe, crushing her windpipe.


    ¡°Best mind your tongue, highness,¡± he said. The muscles on his jaw worked as he squeezed his scythe.


    ¡°Oh, piss off.¡± She spat at him, landing a solid glob on his cheek. ¡°You banter about helping us against something not even the best heroes of our legends could best. We only managed to bind her because she was heartbroken, her lover betrayed by his servants, leaving her bereft. And yet, in the same breath, you threaten my life. Consider me thoroughly convinced.¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I shrugged. ¡°Well, I tried the nice way.¡±


    As I yanked her forward, Thane vanished his scythe and slid out of my way. Tripping her across my ankle, I threw her into the ground and sank my elbow into her back, putting my full weight into it. She wheezed as she coughed for breath, scrabbling at the flagstones. While I held her down, Thane circled around and knelt in front of her.


    Sighing, he closed his eyes and pressed two fingers to her forehead. Ice frosted their skin, spreading from the point of contact, and Nanshe screamed while Thane remained silent. I could feel his magic coursing through her body, trembling as it searched for the Carthian souls. Isolated from her own magic, the process must have been excruciating, but for Thane it was a more casual affair.


    The search took no longer than a breath, but it felt like ages, and the frost cracked like the surface of a lake thawing in the spring. Nanshe shivered, her claws embedded in the cracks between the stones. Shaking off icy powder, Thane rose and exhaled. The smell of morning dew breezed through the air and then was gone. His eyes glowed for a moment as he blinked.


    ¡°Got them,¡± he whispered.


    I shifted off Nanshe¡¯s back, kneeling at her side. ¡°You okay?¡± I asked him.


    He nodded. ¡°Might need a moment, though.¡±


    ¡°Take your time. I can take it from here.¡±


    Pulling his robes close, he nodded again and stepped sideways through his portal as it manifested beside him. A flash, and he was gone into his sandy maas, leaving me alone with the whimpering merfolk queen.


    I meant to sit by the fountain, but ended up flopping over and cracking my head on the ledge instead. Wincing, I rubbed my head and watched Nanshe shiver.


    ¡°You¡¯re a wiwit,¡± she said through chattering teeth.


    Whatever that was, it obviously wasn¡¯t a compliment, and the nearest equivalent in Carthian was in the neighborhood of back alley horseshit. Obviously, I¡¯d been a little rough with her, to put it mildly, but I¡¯d played those verbal games before. Sometimes, force articulated a point far more eloquently than the greatest orator could manage.


    ¡°I may be a whatever you called me, but at least I¡¯m an honest one.¡±


    ¡°Two-faced dog.¡± Quivering, she pried her nails from the stones and struggled to push herself up. Melted frost dripped off her chin, down her chest. ¡°Hypocrite. How dare¡ª¡±


    ¡°Save your breath, kid. I¡¯m tired.¡±


    ¡°Why, you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes, me,¡± I snapped. I leaned forward and pointed at the ground. ¡°You see that dirt you just kissed? If I really wanted to, I could grind your face to powder and clean the stone with my piss. But I¡¯m old, and tired, and cranky. And when I say I¡¯m willing to even half exert my ass, I mean it. So you can stop your bitching and answer my questions, or I¡¯ll dump your ass at the Paeden border and be done with it.¡±


    Eyes veiled, she pressed her lips into a thin line as she struggled to sit up. When she finally managed it, she sat and sulked for a good five minutes. Head turned, arms crossed, fuming¡ªthe whole lot.


    I just let her stew. Sure, she had every right to be upset about her face...and the tentacles too, I guess. But the souls were ours, and I didn¡¯t feel a bit of remorse over that bit. She had no right to them, and she knew the risks, taking the dead of another pantheon. We¡¯d come calling, and she had to answer.


    As Nanshe sighed, little nubs of new tentacles peeked through the scabs on the stubs. Her body convulsed, healing energy spiraling up and down her body. Though her aura was faint, it was still strong enough to cleanse her wounds and patch her up. Fingers pinching her arms, she opened her clouded eyes and stared past me. ¡°Why?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Why what?¡±


    ¡°Why help me?¡± Her grip tightened, making her skin pale around her fingers. ¡°This isn¡¯t your fight, it¡¯s not your pantheon, and certainly outside your authority. So why?¡±


    ¡°They treat the gods like shit. And they¡¯re even worse to the mortals.¡± I shrugged. ¡°It would have been cruel to leave you to her whims, even without you stealing our Oracles¡¯ souls.¡±


    She narrowed her eyes at me. ¡°You think us so incapable.¡±


    ¡°No, I think you, alone, injured after fighting three hostile gods, were incapable. It took our entire infant pantheon and a host of necessary sacrifices I regret to remove our elders, and that was without whatever maddening influence Tamiyat seems to have.¡± I fought off shivers at the thought. ¡°I¡¯ve only ever met one god who could rival a primordial. No offense, but you¡¯ve got nothing on her.¡±


    ¡°None taken,¡± she said, her voice flat. Rubbing her elbows, she shifted uncomfortably. ¡°So...what questions did you have?¡±


    Wow. I didn¡¯t expect to get through to her that easily. Which either meant she¡¯d honestly broken down, or she was going to filter her answers through the craftiest lens she could fashion. It wouldn¡¯t be anywhere near Malia¡¯s level, of course, but I¡¯d watch what she said nonetheless.


    ¡°For starters, what can you tell me about Tamiyat? Any particular weaknesses or vulnerabilities she has?¡±


    As Nanshe opened her mouth to reply, the whole maas tilted sideways and the ground shook. Water from the fountain spilled down my back and sloshed over the merfolk, chilling us both. Nanshe yelped as the ground pitched her onto her side, probably bruising her elbow or a rib. I shot to my feet, summoning my sword and steadying myself on the shaky ground.


    Earthquakes weren¡¯t unheard of in Carthia, but they never happened in the maas. Until now, of course. And I had no idea why. It¡¯d take an insane amount of power to even remotely affect the stability of the maas.

 Chapter 48: "The Bond"

    Thane¡¯s portal flared to life beside me, and a moment later he stumbled through. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna believe what just¡ª¡± The ground pitched beneath him and sent him tumbling. Eyes wide, he stared up at me. ¡°It¡¯s happening here, too?¡±


    I frowned so hard it felt like I split my face in several places. Earthquakes in one maas were bad enough. Earthquakes in several maas meant things had gone seriously wrong. Each dimension was physically separate, the only links transdimensional pathways that touched on a tangential plane. So whatever the source of the disturbance was, it was strong enough to shake the foundations of a reality we visited only in passing. I really didn¡¯t like the implications of that.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not a happy face,¡± Thane said. Arms spread, he slowly regained his feet. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you that upset since I accidentally tipped the wrong scale into the River Mim.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking.¡± I scowled. ¡°And I don¡¯t particularly like what I¡¯m thinking.¡±


    ¡°Obviously. Care to¡ª¡±


    Searing agony blazed in my chest. It exploded within me, like someone had heated a skewer in Phaeus¡¯ forge and plunged it between my ribs. The pain was so sudden that I found myself on my knees, clutching my chest, before I¡¯d even realized I was falling. As I gasped for breath, I realized it was my bond with Malia, but it¡¯d never done anything like this. The closest thing had been when she¡¯d drawn power from me in desperation during one battle we no longer talked about, but this was different. The bond¡¯s anchor felt like a live coal, radiating all kinds of power.


    Once my mind finally caught up with the influx of signals, I managed to put a damper on the bond, enough to think straight while conserving and storing the energy she was feeding me. Leave it to Malia to have advanced her abilities considerably and kept it hidden to the degree that it didn¡¯t even leak subconsciously. But if she¡¯d unveiled it now, that could only mean one thing: she¡¯d met Tamiyat.


    And if the earthquakes were any indication, the damned fool was fighting the Sea Mother on her own.


    I pushed up off my knees and held a hand to stall any questions from Thane. ¡°Malia.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡±


    With the lull in the quaking, I pulled Nanshe to her feet and ushered her towards Thane. ¡°What¡¯s the safest coastal city in Paedaea?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°Uh...Sistons.¡± Her face was puzzled.


    I had no idea where that was. I gave Thane a look as I handed her off to him. ¡°Can you get her there from your maas?¡±


    ¡°If not directly, then close.¡± He frowned as he reopened his portal. ¡°Let me guess. ¡®Lovers die together,¡¯ or some other pithy battle quote?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡± I rolled my shoulders as I let Malia¡¯s gifted power cycle down my arms. ¡°You mentioned Tamiyat¡¯s broken heart.¡±


    Nanshe looked uncomfortable in Thane¡¯s grip. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Can it be broken again?¡± My neck cracked. Ooh, that felt good.


    ¡°Not likely, while the second prisoner remains bound.¡± She gave a high-pitched laugh. ¡°Heavens know how we managed to bind him.¡±


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    My eyebrows twitched down. ¡°Who¡¯s he?¡±


    ¡°We do not speak his name.¡± Even in her weakened state, cut off from her magic and trapped in an enemy pantheon¡¯s celestial realm, she managed to look intimidating. It was impressive.


    ¡°Fine, fine.¡± I waved the comment away. ¡°So he¡¯s still bound?¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be alive to question me if he weren¡¯t.¡±


    I managed to crack every finger except my left pinky, which stubbornly refused. ¡°So it¡¯s safe to say Tamiyat will beeline to wherever he¡¯s held to free him. Which is where?¡±


    ¡°I cannot say.¡± She turned away from us, nose up. ¡°But...Jade can.¡± She sneered. ¡°It¡¯s obvious she has yet to tell you what she guards.¡±


    Suddenly, the djinn¡¯s terror at ancient spirits in the earth made a sickening amount of sense. I must have paled because Thane¡¯s eyebrows shot up.


    ¡°Figure something out, old man?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I shook my arms, trying to loosen the climbing tension. ¡°But not a word of this, to anyone, until I¡¯ve verified a few things.¡±


    He cocked a brow. ¡°Even Seppo?¡±


    ¡°Especially Seppo.¡± I jabbed a finger at him. ¡°He means well, but he¡¯d run off and get himself killed trying to ¡®do his duty¡¯ to protect us. So you keep those flappy lips of yours sealed.¡±


    ¡°Like you¡¯re not?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s different and you know it. I¡¯m expendable, he¡¯s not. Now wipe that smirk off your face.¡± I tried to maintain a hard stare, but it was hard with how jittery the energy rush was making me. ¡°And get her to Paedaea.¡±


    Thane laughed and gave me a mock salute. ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    And with that he disappeared through his portal, marching Nanshe in beside him. The air hissed warm wind as the opening collapsed. I¡¯d give him a bit of a head start, then retrace my steps through his sandy maas and hop back out in Palmyra. Hopefully Malia wouldn¡¯t wreak too much havoc before¡ª


    The ground lurched beneath my feet. Dislodged bricks ridged the plaza, aged mortar crumbling off the exposed edges.


    All right, new plan. Ignoring the pain as our bond flared anew, I ripped open my portal and flailed my way across the dunes. Thane must¡¯ve shortcutted his journey somehow, because I saw no sign of him or Nanshe, not even a trail in the sand. That must have been a new addition, since he¡¯d still had to trek across the maas before I retired. I¡¯d work out the secret or pester him for it later, but for now, I was just grateful that the region I needed to open a rend within was only a short distance away.


    As soon as my return portal opened, I got blasted with chill storm winds and stinging rain. The distant storm I¡¯d left behind was on top of the city, smearing the lines of the city beneath murky storm clouds. Strange gray objects dotted the roads, things that for a moment looked like commoners until I made my way into the downpour and saw they were actually derketo, petrified into slate-hued statues.


    Movement in the air currents drew my eyes upward. Although the clouds roiled from the storm, something large agitated them beyond the cloudy ceiling. Scratch that, somethings. Malia, fully aspected in her astral form, thrashed through the cloud cover, entwined around a being my eyes couldn¡¯t comprehend. It was a marvel Malia held any kind of grip on the Sea Mother at all.


    The vision of Tamiyat was awe-inspiring and terrifying. I felt small and inadequate just looking at her, a feeling compounded by the fact that I struggled to process what I was seeing. She looked like a monstrous sea serpent; a massive, lightning-winged dragon; and a tremblingly, frighteningly beautiful woman all at once.


    Her serpent tail was thicker than an island and trailed back to the Great Sea, the column of snake body traveling up and through her draconic body to a viper¡¯s head that could swallow the moon. The long fingers of her wings trailed through the clouds, raking lightning in their wake. And her otherworldly figure made my chest ache with its perfection.


    ¡°Terrifying¡± was childishly simplistic. Each beast was distinct, yet where they overlapped they didn¡¯t conflict, flickering together in physically impossible ways. Long legs carried giant feet across the earth, her hips disparate from snake and drake yet somehow connected, and yet she clawed the earth with four scaly, draconic limbs, and yet further slithered through the air with an immeasurable girth of ophidian flesh.


    And Malia was wrestling her with her bare hands.


    If you¡¯re quite done gawking, I could use some help. Malia¡¯s voice seared across my mind. Our bond twisted painfully in my chest as the excess power leaked around my suppression.


    ¡°Ease up a bit, would you?¡± Gritting my teeth, I clutched my chest as I groped for my sword. It materialized a moment later, but once I held it, it felt like staring down a lion with a twig. A really, really big lion.


    That is eased up. Her thoughts were choppy and agitated, spat out between mental breaths. Astral form, and watch your thoughts.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I can manage that right now.¡± My knees buckled as she flooded me with a burst of power.


    Move it and use it.


    Thunder erupted as Tamiyat¡¯s wings harvested lightning from the clouds. The elder goddess twirled, nearly throwing Malia several times, but my beautiful gorgon held on.


    She also carved swaths of blasted earth as her gaze swept across the land.The gorgon¡¯s glare didn¡¯t seem to affect the Sea Mother, not even causing any blistering on her scales or skin. Malia¡¯s starry face, however, was strained from resisting Tamiyat¡¯s maddening influence. And from the way her eyes were starting to bug, she¡¯d been venting far too much power through her eyes, probably continuously, knowing her.


    Well, ain¡¯t no time like the present.

 Chapter 49: "The Eyes"

    Shrugging off my robes, I braced myself to transition into my astral form. It¡¯d been far too long since I¡¯d last assumed it, and even with the energy Malia was blasting into me it¡¯d still be a struggle to maintain it. Going full birthday suit to transition into it wasn¡¯t strictly necessary, but losing the physical barrier meant it¡¯d be a lot easier on my rusty neurons.


    Raising my sword in front of me, I gripped it in both hands and gave the elder goddess a mock salute. Then, slowly, I peeled back my dampening on our bond. Layer after layer curled away and evaporated as the energy pushed against the constraining shell, until it was almost entirely exposed. Heat surged through my veins, spiking my heart rate. With a sigh, I let my consciousness fall backwards into the pool of the astral plane.


    Normally, the higher level of existence felt like an oily pool, dotted with starbursts like dandelion seeds. With Tamiyat rampaging, however, it was a cauldron of caustic sand, abrading my soul as soon as I made contact. As I expanded my astral form, the grit got in crevices I hadn¡¯t thought about in ages and nested uncomfortably in the folds. Tamiyat¡¯s madness filled the plane with sickening fumes, but the burning anchor in my chest kept the influence at bay.


    My frame creaked uncomfortably as I rose into the sky. With how out of practice I was, I could barely form the hollow shell of my astral form. Powering it wasn¡¯t an issue, even with how inefficient Malia¡¯s energy sharing was. I hadn¡¯t trod the astral plane for perhaps a century before I retired. I hadn¡¯t needed to. So to come back to it so suddenly was even worse than returning to Nebesa, because there wasn¡¯t any ambrosia to smooth the process. Thus, my starry figure ended up looking like a titan¡¯s reed doll.


    Two eyes appeared in front of me, blinking into existence so quickly I nearly screamed and tumbled backwards. They spanned my vision like clouds, the irises veined like rainbow nebulae. One pupil alone could have haloed my astral form with room to spare, its darkness a portal to a void that promised relief from coherency.


    WHO ARE YOU?


    The Sea Mother¡¯s voice rolled like the ocean, its resonance surrounding me. It was a voice to make one feel tiny, and tiny I felt. My mind recoiled at the sound, which was disconnected from the strange tri-form entangling Malia in the distance. The eyes were attached to it, somehow, but I couldn¡¯t see the link. It wasn¡¯t in the astral plane, which made it that much more unnerving.


    And yet, as imposing as Tamiyat was, I couldn¡¯t help but hear the ghost of the dream stalker laughing in the back of my mind. Although the Sea Mother was primordial and dwarfed the might of our entire pantheon, she failed to touch that nerve of primitive terror I¡¯d felt in that nightmare. My fear of Tamiyat was tangible, its source and reason clear. But that...thing.


    The eyes narrowed. THE GODS HAVE GROWN IN MY ABSENCE. THEY WERE CHILDREN PISSING THEMSELVES IN MY PRESENCE BEFORE.


    ¡°Ah, so you were bound by mere children.¡± I couldn¡¯t help my laugh. ¡°Imagine how well mature deities will fare, then.¡±


    The eyes were unamused. LIFT YOUR ARMS.


    ¡°Why?¡± Despite my obstinate question, I felt the impulse to raise my hands quiver in my fingers.


    TRY.


    ¡°No.¡± I went to fold my arms, but they resisted the command. Panic stabbed my mind for a moment, but I relaxed and tried again, slowly this time. Still no movement.


    SEE? YOUR RESISTANCE IS IRRELEVANT. Assured confidence rolled across the eyes like a lazy breeze. YOUR CHILDISH PROJECTION, SO CERTAIN IN ITS POWER, IS AS AN EFFIGY I COULD TOPPLE WITH A FLICK.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Beyond the eyes, Malia raged against the dragon form, blasting it again and again with her gaze. The shimmering heat bounced off its scales without so much as clouding them. Furious, Malia raked her claws against its sides, trying unsuccessfully to find a chink in the folds.


    <ol>


    <li> The eyes grew knowing. YOU WONDER AT HER STRUGGLE, HOW SHE DEFIES ME SO WHEN YOU CANNOT.</li>


    </ol>


    ¡°Hmm? Oh, sorry, I was just admiring the view.¡± I bared my astral teeth. ¡°It¡¯s not every day I get to see her kicking an elder goddess¡¯ ass.¡±


    YOUR COURAGE IS ADMIRABLE. The voice was thoughtful, the eyes contemplative with a depth that threatened to suck me in and drown me in its abyss. I HAVE NEED OF GODS WITH SUCH TRAITS.


    I tried to clench my fingers but couldn¡¯t move them, so I had to settle for grinding my teeth. Not the most pleasant experience when your body is fully incorporeal.


    ¡°What part of my wife is currently beating you into submission makes you think I¡¯d even entertain the thought of joining you?¡±


    A long, drawn out sigh blew through me, chilling me to my core. The promise of annihilation drifted on those winds, made by a being with the power to follow through. DO NOT WEAR OUT THE JOKES SO EASILY, CHILD.


    Her inhale pulled the teeth out of the chill and twisted at my mind trying to comprehend why eyes needed to breathe.


    HER AUDITION GOES WELL. Explosions erupted in the distance, lightning colliding with Malia¡¯s force. SHE COMPORTS HERSELF ADMIRABLY. IF SHE IS THE BEST YOUR PANTHEON HAS TO OFFER, THEN PERHAPS YOUR KIND HASN¡¯T SQUANDERED ITS EXISTENCE.


    ¡°Funny you should mention existence.¡± I shivered as I inched my mental barriers down. The incense of the astral plane flooded my senses, cinnamon spiced with madness. I ignored it. ¡°Because something about yours bothers me. If you¡¯re so strong and utterly unopposable, why recruit gods? What do we have that you need?¡±


    ENTERTAINMENT, CHILD. YOUR KIND AMUSES ME.


    I shook my head as far as my restricted movement would let me. ¡°Can¡¯t be that. It¡¯s too simple, too clean, an answer.¡±


    The eyes narrowed. MIND WHAT YOU ACCUSE ME OF, SUCKLING.


    ¡°You called this a projection. These astral bodies of ours truly are nothing like yours.¡± I grinned. ¡°You must be the real deal, a being stuck in an astral existence. No physical body, no way to influence the world the way you really want to. You need mediums to work through.¡±


    AND YOU CONSIDER HER THE GODDESS OF STRATEGY. Pinpricks of light danced across the irises as the eyes appraised me. YOU UNDERESTIMATE YOURSELF.


    ¡°It¡¯s not the first time it¡¯s happened.¡± I shrugged. My feet felt rooted in place, but a bit of motion had returned to my arms. ¡°Granted, on a much smaller scale, but gods have proxied through demigods before, so why couldn¡¯t a higher being than us do the same?¡±


    WHAT I COULD DO WITH A MIND LIKE YOURS.


    ¡°I¡¯m good, thanks.¡±


    Soft laughter rumbled across the expanse, mingling with the distant thunder of Malia¡¯s conflict with the Sea Mother. AH, THE FALSE SECURITY ARROGANCE PROVIDES. HOW WILL YOU RESIST ME, WHEN I CAN SIFT YOUR MIND LIKE FLOUR?


    ¡°See, that¡¯s not as scary, coming from you.¡± I leaned back, testing the limits of the invisible constraints. ¡°Nice try, though.¡±


    I CAN SENSE YOUR FEAR, CHILD. SUBMIT, AND I WILL RELEASE YOU FROM IT FOREVER.


    I laughed so hard the stars danced out of my eyes and floated around me.


    The eyes narrowed. EXPLAIN THE HUMOR IN THAT.


    Still laughing, I scooped the stars back into my eyes. ¡°Fear can be bad, but it can be good as well. It gives me strength, purpose, and motivation in battle. Fear is my weapon as well as my weakness.¡± I shook my head, a broad smile on my face. ¡°Of course you would have me disarm myself as I bend my knee to you. No, I think you might¡¯ve underestimated what you¡¯re up against.¡±


    A low hum resonated through the ether. As it echoed across the plane, the eyes faded. WE WILL SEE.


    ¡°Malia, now!¡± I shoved panic through our bond and collapsed my astral form. I had to trust she understood, because the last thing I needed was Tamiyat realizing what I meant and ensnaring Malia in the astral plane. The transition back to the mortal realm was an undramatic shift from an inky starfield to a cold drizzle as the Sea Mother¡¯s storm wore itself out.


    Shivering, I rose from the flagstones and picked up my drenched robes. The folds clung together, resisting my numb fingers as I tried to find an opening. Of course, once I did discover where to begin, they¡¯d stick to my limbs and resist my every effort to pull them on. But it¡¯d be better than nothing, if I could get them on, what with all this stupid rain.


    A winged form plummeted through the clouds and arced towards me. My first thought was Malia, but our bond was deathly cold and she never shrieked like a bird of prey. Her wings weren¡¯t banded, either. Ah, the kite goddess.

 Chapter 50: "The Claim"

    Lazuli let out another fierce cry that trailed into a warble and swooped towards me. As she stretched her taloned feet, trying to pluck me, I parried with my sword and ducked beneath her. Shrieking, she fluttered about and tumbled to the ground.


    ¡°Hello, puppet.¡± I grinned and brandished my sword. ¡°Nice string you got there.¡±


    And she did. Now that I¡¯d been to the astral plane, I saw the dark, wispy tether that trailed from her back all the way into the clouds, following her like a hooked fish. Eyes fierce, she screeched at me and flared her wings.


    ¡°Where is she?¡±


    Well, that certainly wasn¡¯t the reaction I was expecting. I arched a brow at her. ¡°Beg pardon?¡±


    Lazuli flexed her hands, cracking the fresh scabs on her fingers, and stalked across the plaza. ¡°You took my kill. Where?¡±


    Oh, right. That whole mess.


    Keeping my sword at guard, I circled to the left, angling for the temple. ¡°It turns out she had something of mine. I just needed a bit of peace and quiet to retrieve it.¡±


    ¡°Then why isn¡¯t she here now?¡± Lazuli¡¯s nostrils flared. ¡°She¡¯s mine!¡±


    ¡°I can fetch her for you, if you¡¯d like.¡±


    The harpy paused and tilted her head. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure.¡± I made calming motions, my empty palm out. ¡°Just drop that leash of yours so I can take you to her.¡±


    Her eyes slitted. ¡°You said you¡¯d bring her to me.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯d be easier to bring you to her.¡± I sidestepped through puddles, careful not to take my eyes off Lazuli¡¯s. A flicker of warmth like a lit match blossomed in my chest.


    Claws extended from Lazuli¡¯s fingers as she snorted. ¡°Another one of your jests?¡±


    ¡°Not this time, no.¡± Now I was squishing wet derketo corpses underfoot. The temple to my back, I¡¯d reached the ring where they¡¯d held Thane. Not a short distance to sprint, if I wanted to reach the temple doorway, but I might make it in time. Not that I¡¯d need to, though.


    ¡°Then bring her to me.¡± Lazuli clicked her beak and increased her pace.


    I stumbled backwards, matching her pace. ¡°That link of yours is going to be in the way whether I bring her back or take you to her.¡±


    She laughed a warbling cry. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a hindrance before, nor is it now. My prey. Give.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    The wind around me screamed as Lazuli shot forward. Malia nearly scalped me, flying past so close. The pair collided with such force that the air sounded like it shattered a dozen times over. It happened so fast, I only knew the other blur was Malia because she towered over Lazuli¡¯s petrified body, the harpy turned to stone beneath my gorgon¡¯s livid gaze.


    Malia snapped her wings once, twice, and then slithered off the stone figure. ¡°Mine.¡± She spat on Lazuli for good measure before veiling her eyes and turning to me. Eyes sparkling, she smiled. ¡°Well, wasn¡¯t that an experience?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Glad you got my message.¡±


    ¡°What, that the elder being who¡¯d sublimated the astral plane to her will could also read our minds and I needed to fall back?¡±


    ¡°More or less,¡± I said. Frowning, I jerked my head at the frozen goddess. ¡°And that she¡¯s stuck there, so she needs proxies like her to do the heavier lifting.¡±


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    She gave me a self-satisfied smile. ¡°Oh, good, so I was right about that, too.¡±


    ¡°Of course you were.¡± I gave her a look. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but notice you¡¯d put on a few astral pounds since I last saw your form.¡±


    ¡°Phrasing.¡± She swatted my arm as she snuggled up next to me. ¡°I¡¯d been meaning to tell you, but it hadn¡¯t come up yet.¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm.¡± I kissed the top of her head. ¡°And you just so happened to start bulking right before an elder goddess decided to unleash herself upon the land?¡±


    Her snakes hissed in mock annoyance. ¡°In order to throw my weight around against such fierce opposition, I need to have the weight in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Does Seppo know?¡±


    ¡°Of course, dear.¡± She sighed and hugged my arm closer. ¡°He¡¯s known from the start. He¡¯ll be along momentarily, when I give the signal.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Signal for what?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡± She grinned up at me through her snake hair and started glowing.


    Astral energy flowed like oil, making her scales glossy. Although the otherworldly power enveloped her, she didn¡¯t transition to her incorporeal form, instead staying quite solid against my side. Her wings spread around us, slightly possessive, as she glared up at the colossal eyes that had reappeared in the sky.


    Storm clouds masked the orbs like a mourner¡¯s veil, but they did nothing to hide the sheer animosity churning in their depths. YOUR WORLD WILL FALL. The Sea Mother¡¯s voice pounded in our ears and rattled our jaws. YOU WILL COWER IN FEAR.


    ¡°This land is under the protection of the Carthian deities.¡± Malia squeezed my arm as she answered the primordial immortal. ¡°Its spirits and gods are ours, and you will not have them.¡±


    I HAVE ALREADY RECLAIMED THE SPIRITS THAT WILL BE USEFUL TO ME. Lightning flashed around the eyes, casting strange light that seemed to flatten the lenses. SHE, HOWEVER, IS NOT. YOU MAY DO WITH HER AS YOU WISH. I HAVE NO NEED OF FAILURES.


    ¡°That explains why the earth felt empty,¡± Malia muttered under her breath.


    ¡°Do you think Lazuli released the spirits as well?¡± I whispered.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Malia shook her head. Straightening, she met the Sea Mother with her most withering glare. ¡°We are the Carthians. Your age has passed. Aenea is ours.¡±


    Seppo materialized next to her, his steel sledgehammer gripped in both hands. ¡°You are hereby barred from our lands, and should we find you trespassing, we will scour you from the earth and bind you back in the depths you¡¯ve crawled from.¡±


    To my right, Thane and Azoria appeared as well, standing a little too close together. My eyebrows rose. Was that her hand on his shoulder?Thane, positioned between me and Azoria, gave me a guilty look before screwing up his face something fierce and glowering at the Sea Mother. ¡°Our dead are our own, and you will not take them.¡±


    Azoria had ditched her white priestess garb and face paint, opting for her divine robes. When Thane finished, however, she didn¡¯t say anything pithy, but merely nodded her assent.


    I shrugged. Might as well throw my own pittance in with the other showboaters. As I opened my mouth to speak, Malia put a finger to my lips.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got this.¡± She kissed my chin. Flaring her wings, she stepped forward and blurred, toeing the line between physical and astral. Her lines shimmered as if distorted by heat, her skin pulsing in time with her swaying snakes. A sly smile crept across her face as she stared at the Sea Mother. ¡°I will personally weed out whatever snakes you¡¯ve sent among us. You will be cut off from the land, and when I¡¯m finished, you will never be remembered again. Try resurrecting from that.¡±


    A wind like a huff buffeted us. CHILDREN. But then the air sagged back to sea, the storm clouds thinned, and the eyes vanished. The cries of gulls greeted the first rays of sunshine, and muffled cheers from peeping plebeians rumbled through the city behind us. The Sea Mother was gone.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Malia dropped her hands and shook her head, annoyed. ¡°No comeback?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be down to verbally spar when she considers us a real threat,¡± I said, taking her arm and tugging her into the impromptu huddle we were forming. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Thane and Azoria quickly release each other¡¯s hands as they stepped into the circle. While I couldn¡¯t keep the grin off my face, I did manage to avoid making direct eye contact with either of them. ¡°What worries me is how fast Tamiyat abandoned her attempt to reclaim Aenea. I don¡¯t buy that she already has all the spirits she wanted, since she was still doing her best to take the city from us.¡±


    Malia folded her arms and flicked her tail at the petrified goddess. ¡°We dealt with her proxy.¡±


    ¡°True, but I don¡¯t think that explains everything.¡± I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was off. Tamiyat¡¯s erratic behavior didn¡¯t make sense, even factoring in elder eccentricities. There was a connection to be drawn, but my mind hadn¡¯t made it yet.


    ¡°Let me know when you¡¯ve worked it out.¡± Malia pursed her lips and glanced at Seppo. ¡°You¡¯ve been around longer than we have. What do you know about the Sea Mother?¡±


    The pistons by his neck hissed as he shook his head. ¡°Precious little, I¡¯m afraid. She was my mother¡¯s bedfellow in her younger years, but they had a falling out before I was born. I¡¯ll have the Oracles consult the archives when we return.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of Oracles,¡± Thane interjected. ¡°I¡¯m afraid we have some bad news about our former Aenean diviners.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ve confirmed their deaths?¡± Seppo said, sighing.


    Thane nodded. ¡°I¡¯m afraid so. We were able to recover their souls from the Paedan goddess before she...ah, escaped.¡±


    Seppo grunted. ¡°I¡¯ll let Charax explain himself later. But I¡¯m sure you couldn¡¯t have recovered the souls without his help, and he always has his reasons.¡±


    Thane blushed but said nothing.


    ¡°Seppo, if I may¡ª¡± Azoria began, but Seppo held up a hand.


    ¡°No. You¡¯re biased in his favor, and he is blind to his mentor''s faults.¡± Seppo gave me a bemused smile. ¡°But I trust my gods of war. Now, get out of here and go back to whatever bedroom activities you were up to before.¡±


    Azoria went bright scarlet, and I thought Thane wanted to conjure a hole in the plaza to swallow him up. Clamping her mouth shut, Azoria turned and drew an oval of brilliant aquamarine in the air. A moment later, her portal flared open and she let Thane through. Still blushing furiously, she stopped on the threshold and said, ¡°I¡¯ll, uh, be back later to administer¡ª¡±


    Seppo cut her off and shooed her away.


    The portal snapped shut, leaving the three of us alone on the plaza.


    Seppo¡¯s exoskeleton hissed as he sagged. ¡°I wasn¡¯t too harsh on them, was I?¡±


    Malia and I shared a look and laughed. Oh boy, this next feast was going to be a blast.

 Chapter 51: "The Weight"

    Unfortunately, the feast was not to be, at least not immediately. While Malia cleaned up the mess in Aenea, Seppo and I went to his maas to ¡°have a chat.¡± A portal and a couple transfers later, and we were climbing the steps of Maas Bierg, headed for his throne room. Seppo plodded ahead of me, silent except for the occasional burst of steam from his exoskeleton. When I tried to initiate a conversation, he simply shook his head, his face serious.


    I couldn¡¯t tell if he was upset about something, but he certainly didn¡¯t look happy despite his earlier words to Thane. He wasn¡¯t unduly curt, though, and I couldn¡¯t fault him for now wanting to air his thoughts in public. Still, I didn¡¯t like being left to guess without direction as to his mental state.


    We reached the top without incident. No sign of the previous earthquakes, although those had most likely been Malia and Tamiyat¡¯s doing. Seppo¡¯s guards uncrossed their spears to admit us, bowing stiffly at the waist as we passed. I couldn¡¯t help falling into a parade rest as the doors swung shut behind me.


    Seppo plunked across the cloudy field, his shoulders bowed. Instead of heading for his throne, however, he bent and scooped up a tuft of cloud, winding it around his fingers.


    ¡°So¡­¡± I let the word drag, unsure where to begin.


    ¡°Would you like a seat, Charax?¡± He kept his back to me, flicking the tail of the cloud past his shoulder, pulling it back, flicking it again. A nervous habit of his.


    I coughed. ¡°I¡¯m good, thanks. You?¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Been better.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    Seppo caught the cloud in both hands and stretched it like dough. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since we last fought elder gods.¡±


    ¡°And maybe a long time still before we need to again,¡± I said. ¡°Malia can be very thorough, when she wants to. The Sea Mother won¡¯t breach Carthian lands.¡±


    ¡°Yes, she¡¯s always been dependable. You both have.¡± A shrill whistle of steam as he wrapped the cloud around his hand. It thinned from the rushing vapor, and he let it go. ¡°I appreciate that.¡±


    I shuffled my feet. ¡°What¡¯s with this melancholy? You drink some souls while we were gone or something?¡±


    He laughed and half turned towards me. The cloudy expanse around us mellowed into a golden sunset, casting shadows across his wrinkled face. ¡°You¡¯d tell me if you were going to move against me, wouldn¡¯t you? You¡¯d at least give me that dignity.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I felt my eyes bulge. That¡¯s what he was worried about? ¡°We would never.¡±


    ¡°You would never.¡± He pointed his finger at me. ¡°But Malia¡­¡± He sighed and let his hand drop. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve seen how powerful she¡¯s grown.¡±


    I folded my arms. ¡°What else?¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s just that¡ª¡± he flung his hands down, an irritated frown on his face. ¡°It¡¯s never mattered before, how much I depended on Malia to manage our foreign affairs. Border skirmishes were always an unavoidable consequence of Carthia being a mercantile empire. And we¡¯ve clashed with other pantheons before.¡±


    ¡°But none of this caliber.¡±


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯ve been in a pissing contest with the Paedens for several decades now.¡± He waved his hand, scowling. ¡°But against a primordial? How am I supposed to lead us against that?¡±


    Now it was my turn to frown. ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re here for. We¡¯re your Gods of War for a reason. We keep the kingdom safe from threats without, and you protect us from fracturing within.¡±


    ¡°Yes, no better than the mortal paper pushers.¡± He shook his head and stomped across the clouds to his throne. Above, the clouds darkened to crimson, the artificial light growing dim as twilight descended. Grumbling, Seppo ascended his dias and clunked into his seat. ¡°I don¡¯t begrudge you your ability, you know. But I despise my own frailty.¡± He lifted his hands and stared at the brass tubing lining his limbs. ¡°These¡­.these can never do more than lead from the backline.¡±


    I felt something tingle on the back of my neck, but I resisted the urge to slap it. ¡°What¡¯s this really about, Seppo?¡± I walked over and sat at the feet of his steps. He wasn¡¯t too hard to see if I leaned back. ¡°We¡¯ve known each other long enough. You know I¡¯ve always had your back. So what¡¯s really eating at you?¡±


    He scowled. ¡°I hate you sometimes, you know that?¡±


    I grunted. ¡°Don¡¯t we all?¡±


    Seppo snorted. ¡°Well, if you insist.¡± Sighing, he dropped his chin on his fist and watched the western horizon. He sat silent for a moment, his eyes reflecting the dying light. ¡°That...creature, Tamiyat.¡±


    I hummed in acknowledgement.


    ¡°She¡¯s just so¡­¡± He screwed up his face, trying to find the right words. ¡°Well, she unearthed emotions I¡¯d thought long decayed.¡±


    ¡°Fear.¡±


    ¡°Like no other.¡± His eyes, intense, found mine. ¡°She was like an older sister to my mother. Took her under her wing, taught her how to get the most out of her cruelty. Of course, I never met her, but I felt the ripples of her influence.¡± Voice soft, his eyes glistened with emotion. ¡°And seeing Tamiyat, it was like seeing my mother¡¯s fingerprint. But not just that, the whole hand of the monster the print came from. And as strong as Malia¡¯s become, even she could barely withstand her.¡± He shook his head. ¡°How are we supposed to?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve already discovered one weakness,¡± I said, adjusting my seat. ¡°She¡¯s lost whatever physical avatar she once had, so she¡¯s forced to rely on underlings to move for her outside the astral plane.¡±


    ¡°Bah.¡± Seppo drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. The metal tinged with each tap. ¡°That won¡¯t be enough to stop her. It may not even slow her down. A being who considered my mother¡ªmy mother, Charax¡ªa kid sister isn¡¯t going to be slowed down by some paltry limitation like losing her physical avatar. And it took so many of us to put my mother down.¡±


    I felt my gut go cold. Yes, it had. His siblings, my friends, countless worshippers clinging to their gods through the decimating droughts and plagues that ravished the infant Carthian lands. We¡¯d barely managed, Seppo and I and the gods whose names only we two remembered. But we had, in the end. Oh, more than just he and I had survived his mother¡¯s wrath, but most had since retired, and old Zephyrus was nearly there. The thought made my bones creak, reminding me of my own age.


    Seppo nodded. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m just feeling old. But there¡¯s always been two heads of our pantheon, and you know it.¡± Sighing, he patted his chair. ¡°I owe my throne to you, of course. Without your help, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Are you done?¡±


    He blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    I gave him a stern look. It was like scolding Hasda all over again, only I never expected to be doing it to my peer. ¡°Did you mean what you said earlier? About trusting us?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, but I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Good. Then shut up.¡± I pushed to my feet and folded my arms. He gaped like a fish, gulped a couple times uncertainly. I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing involuntarily. ¡°We¡¯re not coming for your crown, especially not with two pantheons armed and at the door. I wouldn¡¯t even use your throne as a pisspot if you did give it to me. So if you¡¯re done having your pout, there¡¯s some serious things we need to discuss.¡±


    ¡°I¡ª¡± He swallowed and shook his head. ¡°Asshole.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°It¡¯s been forever since I¡¯ve heard you swear.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, you always did know how to draw out the worst in me.¡± He grumbled as he pushed up off his throne. ¡°Fine. I¡¯m better now.¡± He shook a finger at me as he came down the steps. ¡°I should have you demoted for insolence.¡±


    ¡°Oh? And how do you propose to do that?¡± I grinned and ignored the stupid itch on my neck, which had decided to come back.


    He gave me a sour look. ¡°You don¡¯t have to rub it in. Although, I could make you Co-Head of the pantheon?¡±


    I stumbled. Coughing to mask my recovery, I fell into step behind him. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°No, but I could have you hold a full office again.¡± He clanked across the cloudy platform, his exoskeleton catching the last few rays  of light.


    ¡°Funny you should mention that.¡± I tugged at my robes, which had twisted from sitting on the ground. ¡°Thane mentioned wanting to abdicate in favor of me. Said he¡¯d prefer to be the God of Wine or something. While he was fairly addled by the souls he¡¯d just annihilated, there was an air of authenticity I couldn¡¯t shake.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps a discussion for after the feast, then.¡± Seppo placed his palm on the door, sagging a little. ¡°That¡­¡± He rolled his free hand. ¡°Whatever that was. Is that what you felt? When you decided to retire.¡±


    I sighed and nodded. ¡°A bit. When the decades start feeling like centuries, the millenia really start to get to you.¡±


    ¡°And the weight.¡±


    ¡°It never goes away.¡±


    He nodded thoughtfully. ¡°I didn¡¯t think it would, but one can hope. Well, let¡¯s get on with this feast, shall we? I finally found some inspiration for Hasda¡¯s Second Trial, and I¡¯m sure the lad is eager to be on his way.¡±

 Chapter 52: "The Sauna"

    We didn¡¯t head straight to the feast, of course. That would take a couple days to get set up, enough time for everyone to gather and Loutro to decide on the various dishes. Since the feast would serve not only as the commencement of the Second Trial but also a celebration of our reclamation of Aenea, he¡¯d no doubt go all out on the food. While Seppo went about getting Nebesa ready for the revelry, I went back to my maas to mull over the various thoughts nibbling at the back of my mind.


    The stones of the fountain were cool and a little wet as I sat down. Behind me, the fountain burbled and splashed, spray misting my back as the water rose and fell. With Malia cleaning up the mess in Aenea and Thane, Azoria, and the others doing who knew what, it felt a little empty. The stain from where I¡¯d thrown Nanshe had faded, the flagstones back to their warm, golden hue.


    I picked a pebble out of the fountainwork and rolled it between my fingers. Paeden magic had strong bonds to spirits and earth. Hasda¡¯s djinn had pissed himself about being put to earth, and Palmyra had felt void of divine essence. While that was partially due to the inhospitable environment, Tamiyat recovering the souls of her deceased followers could very well have exacerbated the hostility. And Jade was somehow connected, if Nanshe¡¯s words were to be trusted.


    I frowned at the flagstones. What did Jade guard? Was there something in the mines? A minor Paeden goddess, charged with warding something bound in the earth, almost like...like Lazuli. Jailor of the Sea Mother. Or she was, until she let her out and threw her loyalties to the elder goddess, her prisoner.


    The words of my vision haunted me. I hated the ambiguity of prophetic metaphor with a passion. If such metaphors had a physical manifestation, I would have thrashed the avatar in combat and dealt it an excruciatingly painful death. I had no clue who the ¡°Adder¡± could be; the ¡°Apparition¡± seemed bound to torment me with its endless possibilities; and as clear-cut as the admonition about the ¡°Prisoner¡± seemed to be, delivered right before our encounter with the Sea Mother, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that it was a little too obvious.


    I hadn¡¯t discussed the prophecy yet with Malia, but she tended to pick an interpretation she liked and then never deviate from that perceived meaning. While that shortcoming often blinded her, she was pretty good at cutting through the smoke and mirrors to get near the heart of the meaning. So perhaps justifiably blind, but if the prophecy really were about Hasda, I wanted to be as absolutely certain of the intended message as possible.


    Sighing, I pushed off the fountain and paced around it. The murmuring water and cool air were comforting, but they provided none of the answers I sought. But perhaps Jade could shed some light on the situation, if I could find her. I hadn¡¯t noticed her when I returned, but I also hadn¡¯t been looking very hard.


    I flicked my portal open, heading for Maas Bierg. Malia would be another few days cleaning up Aenea before she returned, so I¡¯d gather what information I could and then talk with her, hopefully before the feast. While I could have waited until she got back to question Jade, I also wanted the goddess as open as possible, and Malia had a bad habit of being...intimidating, especially to those she held in low regard.


    All manner of mythical beings swarmed the streets of Maas Bierg. News had spread of the conflict in Aenea, and how an elder goddess had arisen from the Great Sea and been driven off by Malia and me. I slapped at an itch on my neck, which had come and gone intermittently since I¡¯d returned. Normally, those kinds of itches meant worshippers sacrificing, doling out their devotion, etc., but I hadn¡¯t reestablished any of my temples, formally or informally. If it kept up for a week, I¡¯d talk to Seppo about it and see if I was having some kind of strange readjustment to being a seated god again. Sort of like how old scars sometimes itched.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Even with my hood up, I couldn¡¯t avoid the stares of the people I passed on the streets, so I pulled it off and flashed unsettling smiles. That at least kept them from pestering me with annoying inquiries, although it had the downside of making the odd centaur or chimera I stopped to question shy away. But eventually I got my questions answered, and no one had seen Jade anywhere. Hasda had vanished, too, which surprised me until my subconscious started drawing conclusions.


    I had no idea what Hasda considered romantic. The forests of Maas Caorann were bare of Nebesan life, save for Loutro, who¡¯d gone hunting for deer for the feast. He hadn¡¯t seen Jade or Hasda, but he thought Phaeus might have an idea, so I jumped through my portal and ended up outside the steamy gates of Phaeus¡¯ forge. After shouting myself hoarse for a couple minutes, the insolent dwarf finally appeared. At first he thought I¡¯d come to collect Hasda¡¯s armor, which he¡¯d repaired (save the possessed chestplate), but when I asked about the lad¡¯s whereabouts, he frowned. No, he hadn¡¯t seen Hasda since the feast, but he had seen Jade talking with Tarrha a few days ago, so maybe she knew.


    Grumbling my thanks, I collected Hasda¡¯s armor and took a quick detour through my maas to deposit it safely before heading back to Maas Bierg to find Tarrha. And, of course, once I got to her temple, she was out, but her attendants said she¡¯d gone to the springs in Maas Taeful so maybe I could find her there. As if I hadn¡¯t already been running all over Nebesa. But I thanked them and went through yet another portal, coming out next to the log cabin the spring wardens used for administrative purposes.


    It was a squat structure, built from pines felled from the surrounding forest. A lone chimney sighed smoke from the back, and the overhanging roof slats gave flimsy waves in the wind. Empty chairs sat on the porch, and the front door was closed. Before I had time to process how unusual such a vacancy was, Tarrha came barreling through the door, laughing as she shrugged her robes on.


    ¡°And we¡¯ll have to do that¡­¡± she trailed off when she saw me. Wet hair, exposed shoulder streaked with water or sweat, and robes far too thin to be decent, she looked weird in a mortal body, as opposed to the water nymph form she¡¯d worn at the feast. When she saw me, she flashed me a smile and ignored the nymph behind her. ¡°Why, Charax, what a pleasant surprise! Come to relax, I take it.¡± Her eyes sparkled. ¡°Would you like some company?¡±


    ¡°No, thank you.¡± I watched the leafy spirit slink around her and flee into the forest. ¡°I¡¯m looking for Jade. Hasda, too. Have you seen them?¡±


    ¡°Mmmm.¡± Her voice purred as she slid towards me. ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve seen that boy of yours recently, but Jade passed through here a few hours ago.¡±


    I folded my arms as she draped herself over the post at the top of the steps and fought off an eye roll. ¡°I would appreciate it if you¡¯d point me in her direction.¡±


    ¡°You really ought to do something about all that stress in your voice.¡± Whatever she intended that smile to convey, it very nearly made me laugh. A bit of a grin slipped out anyways, and she immediately started pouting. ¡°Oh, poo. It¡¯s always business with you. Fine.¡± She huffed and jerked her head. ¡°They went to the sauna beyond the second hill.¡±


    ¡°They?¡± I raised an eyebrow, but she held a finger to her lips and gave me a mischievous smile.


    ¡°Gotta find my fun somewhere, now, mustn¡¯t I?¡±


    That deserved an eye roll, so I gave her one and swung around to hike to the sauna. The isolated, private, definitely only ever used to bask in steam sauna.


    ¡°Mind that you knock, you old badger!¡± Tarrha called after me.


    I waved her comment away and stomped up the hill behind the cabin.


    Beyond the hill was the field full of springs, steam blanketing the plains like milky fog. Minor gods and goddesses lounged in the water-filled depressions in various states of undress, the most unusual being a god wearing his social awkwardness on his sleeve with his full robes still on. But seeing them all so relaxed made me feel my centurites, both because I could use a good soak myself and because I recognized not a one of them. I hadn¡¯t been gone that long, and it wasn¡¯t like I paid the minor gods no mind at all, and yet still¡­


    As I wended my way around the pools, I mentally swatted away those pesky fatherly feelings that were springing up about what I¡¯d find in the sauna. Jade and Hasda had been spending more and more time together, and it raised my suspicions to return and not be able to find either of them. Tarrha¡¯s comments, as well, were designed to foment such feelings. But of course they would, because stupid, horny fertility goddess. If Jade and Hasda had gone to the private sauna alone, who knows what kind of ¡°advice¡± she¡¯d given them.


    With that lovely thought, I came upon the little shack that served as the sauna. Laughter and...very specific sounds floated out through the steam that rose from the spring beside the hut. I recognized both Hasda and Jade¡¯s voices coming from within and prepared myself for a supremely awkward conversation.


    Oh boy.

 Chapter 53: "The Depths"

    I cleared my throat to center myself and knocked on the door. ¡°Jade? Are you in there?¡±


    The laughter inside halted, followed by the sounds of frantic scurrying.


    ¡°We just need to talk,¡± I said to the closed wooden door. ¡°When you¡¯re decent, I¡¯d appreciate it if you¡¯d come out.¡± And then I stepped back.


    After a couple more moments of shuffling, Jade finally emerged from the sauna, one towel wrapped tightly around her body and another spiraling around her hair. She looked flushed, and not just from the steam. With how her eyes wouldn¡¯t leave the ground and her legs had reverted to her smoky bronze snake tail, she looked embarrassed enough to melt right there.


    Hasda, however, stayed inside.


    I sighed. ¡°Hasda, I know you¡¯re in there, and this isn¡¯t the worst thing I¡¯ve walked in on you doing.¡±


    His sandy hair poked around the left edge of the door, followed by his eyes. ¡°I can explain.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you can,¡± I said, folding my arms. ¡°But it¡¯ll have to wait, because Jade and I have some things to discuss first, and you have a feast to prepare for.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s there to prepare for?¡± His eyebrows pinched.


    I gave him a look. ¡°Your Second Trial. Which, I might add, you should have been training for in my absence.¡±


    He ducked back inside. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ve been¡­¡±


    ¡°Distracted?¡±


    I didn¡¯t need to see his ears to sense the heat rising on the tips of his ears. He¡¯d never been a blusher, but that had always been a dead giveaway.


    ¡°Look, I get it. You¡¯re young, prime of your life, yada yada. We¡¯ll have that talk later.¡± I kept my eyes on the doorway to lessen how mortified Jade already felt, because she looked like her body hadn¡¯t decided if puking or fainting was the correct response. ¡°Head on back to Maas Bierg and see if Malia¡¯s back. If she¡¯s not, find Phaeus and have him give your armor a once-over.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Hasda slunk out of the sauna with his towel around his waist, doing his best to stare resolutely at the horizon as he shuffled past us with ears like dying sunsets. And I had to give them credit, all the...marks were on his shoulders, where they¡¯d be covered by his robes.


    I shook my head. His first romance, and he was already in deep. The thought gave me pause. I guess he¡¯d had several weeks to spend with Jade already, hadn¡¯t he? There¡¯d been plenty of time for them to blossom while we were away. Or had it been months? I¡¯d already fallen back on my usual disregard of the shorter mortal timespans. I¡¯d had to care while Hasda was young, of course, but that¡¯d been only a drop in my bucket of centuries.


    I only realized I¡¯d started drifting off, reminiscing, when Jade exploded into a frenzy of apologies and excuses.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. Please don¡¯t be mad. Are you mad? Oh, I hope not. We didn¡¯t mean to offend you or disrespect your authority, Tarrha talked to me and she said it was okay because I wasn¡¯t sure it was. Hasda thought it was, too, though, and he¡¯s really sweet. And handsome. And thoughtful. But we didn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Jade.¡± I held up a hand to stop the verbal torrent. It¡¯d been a while since we¡¯d interacted, and she seemed to want to make up for the lost words in a single breath. ¡°That¡¯s not¡ªI¡¯m not mad, no.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not?¡± Her eyes shone hopefully, although she still jittered with nerves.


    I frowned. ¡°No, but we do need to talk.¡±


    ¡°About what?¡± She had her hands clutched in front of her, and she picked at the edge of the towel.


    ¡°About what¡¯s in your mines.¡±


    The color drained from her face, and she went unnaturally still. She visibly shivered from her heart skipping a beat.


    ¡°Hey.¡± I held out my hand awkwardly. If she guarded what I suspected she did, she had every right to be terrified of this line of questioning. But I wanted to help ease her panic and had no clue how. ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡±


    She started shaking. ¡°Are you...are you going to send me back?¡±


    Bewilderment spilled across my face. ¡°Back to where?¡±


    ¡°To the Paedens,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Okay, stop.¡± I held her shoulders and made her meet my eyes. ¡°We¡¯re not throwing you out of the pantheon, regardless of your past. Or, present, I guess. But Malia and I just dealt with an elder goddess in Aenea, and we have some gaps in our knowledge that you might be able to fill in.¡±


    If I thought she was pale before, that had nothing on the pallor her face took on at the mention of the Sea Mother. ¡°She¡¯s awake?¡±


    ¡°Tamiyat? Yes.¡±


    ¡°This is bad. This is bad. This is really bad.¡± She tried to jerk out of my arms, but it was a panicked, thoughtless act. I held her firm as her breathing skyrocketed. ¡°I have to go.¡±


    ¡°Look at me.¡± I waited until she calmed enough to do so. ¡°Let¡¯s play a game, hot and cold. I tell you what we already know and what I think, and you tell me if I¡¯m close, okay?¡±


    Jade bit her lip and nodded, looking like a rabbit ready to bolt.


    ¡°The Paedens bound the Sea Mother when they established their pantheon.¡± I kept my tone measured and slow, trying to project calm. ¡°While she¡¯s been bound a long time, that doesn¡¯t explain why she¡¯s stuck in the astral realm. I think she¡¯s lost whatever physical anchor she had, and she won¡¯t be able to interfere in the mortal realm until she builds or steals a new one. It has to be a physical anchor, because she said she reclaimed the souls she wanted from Aenean soil, yet she¡¯s still stuck. Am I close?¡±


    Jade nodded but said nothing.


    ¡°There was a minor goddess, Lazuli.¡± Jade flinched back, and I kept my grip steady but firm. ¡°I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that you two were related, despite your obvious differences. Now,¡± I leaned down, trying to do less towering and more talking, ¡°you¡¯re both named after minerals. If I went back to Aenea, I¡¯d find lazuli mines, correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Jade breathed, her voice almost gone from the strain her panic was putting on her.


    ¡°And you¡¯re both jailors. Or guardians, if you prefer.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I could feel the threads singing in my mind as the dots connected, like a weaver¡¯s loom nearly finished with its tapestry. ¡°The Paedens were able to bind Tamiyat because she was heartbroken, because her mate had been brought down. They were both sealed away in the earth, weren¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, yes!¡± Eyes squeezed tight, she thrashed as shivers racked her body.


    It was all I could do to hold her. I wasn¡¯t trying to hurt her, but I was definitely doing a piss-poor job of questioning her lightly. Maybe I could have waited for Malia, and maybe she would have laid the girl out if she thought she¡¯d slept on revealing such a threat. Because I knew, from Jade¡¯s face, that she hadn¡¯t told Malia¡ªhadn¡¯t told anyone¡ªwhat she guarded. Oh, she¡¯d mentioned there being a powerful, elder ¡°demon¡± during Hasda¡¯s First Trial, but a vanquished demon was a far cry from the fallen head of one¡¯s primordial pantheon.


    ¡°Jade, I need you to calm down. Breathe.¡± Although it put me off balance, I kneeled to try putting her more at ease. I still didn¡¯t let go, though, because she really would split if I let go. And it¡¯d be better to get it all over with at once than force her to go through this again to get the final answer. ¡°Now, I think, but I need you to tell me for certain, that I know who¡¯s in the deepest, darkest shafts of your mines. But I need you to answer honestly. Who is bound in your mines?¡±


    Sobs burst forth, shaking her like reeds in a storm. ¡°Please,¡± she hiccuped through cries, ¡°I don¡¯t...I can¡¯t...¡±


    ¡°All I need is a ¡®yes¡¯ or ¡®no,¡¯¡± I said, trying to keep my voice gentle. ¡°Is it Tamiyat¡¯s¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± She nearly threw herself on the ground, wrenching away from me. Breath hitching, she collapsed on her knees and hugged her sides. ¡°Don¡¯t raise his memory. Please.¡±


    ¡°I need to know what we¡¯re up against.¡± I couldn¡¯t keep from giving a tired sigh as I sank down next to her. ¡°And how likely he is to escape, if Tamiyat attempts to free him.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand.¡± Jade looked up, eyes intense, then dropped her gaze again. Her voice barely lifted above a hushed whisper, so I barely caught her next words. ¡°There¡¯s a reason he¡¯s not remembered.¡±


    I frowned. Malia had threatened Tamiyat with erasure from all cultural consciousness. If a god ever fell that far out of memory, it would be nearly impossible for them, in any form, to be resurrected. Even a couple centuries often led to some strange bastardization, if a dead god were revived. Maybe someone had done the same to Tamiyat¡¯s mate.


    But if they had, then we were walking a very fine line. The harder we resisted his release, the more we strengthened the possibility of his return. So long as he stayed out of mortal thoughts, we should be able to contain him if he escaped, but if he found new worshippers...well, you could build a monarchy with how royally screwed we¡¯d be.

 Chapter 54: "The Sealed"

    Jade grabbed the back of my hand, hers trembling horribly. ¡°Please.¡± She didn¡¯t finish the plea, didn¡¯t look up, just sat there shivering like a terrorized puppy.


    I sighed. ¡°All right. Last thing.¡±


    Her shaking didn¡¯t stop, but it did lessen.


    ¡°There¡¯s something odd about you.¡± I kept myself still, neither taking her hand nor pushing it off. ¡°I haven¡¯t been able to put my finger on it. But I think it¡¯s related to that language you know, the one you, Hasda, and that djinn all share.¡± I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s not a living language. Nebesa can help us understand, if not entirely, then at least good approximations of all known languages. It¡¯s how we and the other pantheons can interact with any semblance of civility. So where in the world did you find it? And how does the djinn know it?¡±


    She went so unnaturally still, so suddenly, that I thought she¡¯d fainted. But she sat there, erect, slowly forcing air in and out through her nose. As I waited, she withdrew her hand and clasped it in her other hand, resting them in her lap as she drilled holes in the ground with her eyes. Finally, she shivered a sigh and flicked a glance at me through her hair. ¡°You can¡¯t tell anyone about this.¡±


    ¡°What? About your mines?¡± I gave her a comforting smile, preparing to explain that, yes, the pantheon (or at least the major gods) would need to know about the demon sleeping deep below her territory.


    She quickly shook her head. ¡°Not that. About me. Or, what I¡¯m going to say.¡± Her fingers dug into her robes. ¡°Please.¡±


    I frowned and folded my arms. Shifting my weight above my heels, I said, ¡°It depends on what you have to say. But, depending on what it is, it won¡¯t go any further than me.¡± I paused. ¡°And Malia, of course.¡±


    Jade paled and shivered. ¡°I guess that¡¯s as good as you can do. Okay.¡± She clenched her clothes and straightened her spine. ¡°I¡¯m...broken.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Beg pardon.¡±


    ¡°Broken,¡± she repeated, jerking her head in awkward nods. ¡°Like, my spirit. My...I don¡¯t know how to describe it.¡± Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. ¡°But I¡¯m wrong. Really wrong. Don¡¯t fit, out of place, lost connection, drifting.¡± She smiled, a sad, broken thing that made her look absolutely pathetic. ¡°Not here. I don¡¯t belong.¡±


    ¡°All right, I¡¯m going to need you to unpack that a little.¡±


    She looked up. ¡°Unpack? Is there a box?¡± She gasped. ¡°Are you sending me away? Or, wait. Unpack would be stay.¡±


    ¡°Stop.¡± I held up a hand and massaged the bridge of my nose with the other. ¡°What I mean is, I need you to explain what you mean by all that.¡±


    ¡°In here.¡± She poked her chest. ¡°It¡¯s broken.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but how?¡± I did my best to keep the exasperation out of my voice. ¡°Like, are you sick? Poisoned? Did you suffer some sort of trauma that¡¯s caused cognitive dissonance?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± She tilted her head. ¡°Maybe?¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± The breeze floated between us, rustling the grass and rolling the humidity of the surrounding springs around. I wiped my hands on my thighs against the cloying damp. ¡°When did you first start feeling this way?¡±


    ¡°After I got out.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Got out of what?¡±


    ¡°My...mines.¡± She rubbed her arm and looked away. ¡°I was never supposed to leave them.¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Oh.


    Oh shit.


    ¡°Jade, were you sealed in the mines with...him?¡±


    Her shoulders trembled. ¡°What was left of him.¡±


    No wonder she was freaking out about it. Some cultures, like the one that preceded Aenea, had a habit of interring servants when their masters died, to guide and serve them in the afterlife. Usually, the servants were sacrificed before burial, but on rare occasions, they were not. Only the most important, powerful masters merited such honors.


    But for the gods, it was generally held that the dead were best to guard the dead. So, for the Paedens to have gone to all the effort to not only expunge ¡°his¡± name from the earth but also entomb his divine warden, alive, with him as well¡­


    Shit.


    I knew I wasn¡¯t keeping all my emotions off my face because Jade shifted even more.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t banish me.¡± Her voice gave out halfway through, and she whispered the last two words in a cracked hush.


    ¡°Nobody¡¯s banishing anybody,¡± I said, hammering the dirt with my fist. Fury roiled in my gut, a slow rage that was swirling upwards. As it lapped against the bottom of my lungs, I pushed to my feet to give myself the space to control it. ¡°Nobody except maybe the gods stupid enough to abandon you like that.¡± I clenched my fists. ¡°How old are you?¡±


    ¡°I...I really don¡¯t know,¡± Jade stammered, shrinking back. ¡°Everything was weird in the crypt. Broken.¡± She ducked her head. ¡°Like me.¡±


    ¡°Like Pek you are,¡± I snapped. ¡°Let me guess. You felt some kind of rush when the seal was broken? Like time catching up to you?¡±


    ¡°How did you¡ª¡± She flinched when she saw my face.


    Yeah, I probably looked royally pissed. They¡¯d had an elder god that dangerous, and they locked a gods-damned child in there, alone, and temporally isolated her from the rest of reality in some mistaken bid for time before said ancient one put himself back together. They hadn¡¯t even had the decency to put someone in with her, to help hold back the madness, both from the isolation and from the influence of the sundered god. It was a damn miracle Jade could even string coherent sentences together.


    She was practically curled in a ball now. ¡°You¡¯re scaring me.¡±


    Small fissures split the ground beneath my feet as my aura bubbled over, cracking the air like a vase. Oops.


    ¡°My apologies.¡± I reined in the surging power and knelt next to her. ¡°I just can¡¯t believe how stupid and incompetent your former pantheon was. What they did to you was horrible.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re not sending me away?¡±


    I barked a laugh. ¡°No, but I might send some limbs away from the gods who did this to you.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Was it the Paedens? Are any of the gods from that time still around?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Jade ducked her head, hiding behind her hair again.


    ¡°Good. Last question.¡±


    Her fingers wrapped themselves in her robe again, and she uncurled just a little bit. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Who let you out?¡± I watched as her face worked through several variations of confusion.


    She finally settled on the classic pinched eyebrows look and frowned. ¡°I¡ªI¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t know.¡±


    I folded my arms, then immediately unfolded them so Jade wouldn¡¯t think I was upset with her. ¡°Then how did you get through the seal? Did it fail? Tear? Did you force your way out?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± She shook her head, looking apprehensive because she didn¡¯t know the answer to my question. ¡°I just...woke up in the mines one day.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± I rubbed my chin to keep from scowling. If the seal had decayed to the point that she could escape, we¡¯d have to worry about Tamiyat¡¯s mate breaking free on his own. If someone had let her out, however, then we¡¯d need to contend with whatever eldritch cult was moving to revive their leader. But if the sorcery had merely expelled her, we could be up against any number of things. Soured magic, temporal fracturing, the mate¡¯s influence¡­ It would have been far simpler if there were some known, direct source for Jade¡¯s liberation.


    Alas, life was never so accommodating.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a mystery for another time, then,¡± I said, holding out my hand. ¡°Up you go. You¡¯re going to need another bath as it is, but enough sitting in the dirt.¡±


    She hesitantly took my hand and let me help her up. ¡°So I¡¯m not in trouble?¡±


    ¡°The only trouble you¡¯re going to be in is if you keep asking if we¡¯re kicking you out.¡± I gave her a stern look. She shrank a little but nodded. ¡°Good. Let¡¯s head back to Nebesa. There¡¯s a feast coming up you¡¯ll want to be presentable for, and I have a boy to chase down.¡±


    As we walked across the field towards the administrative cabin, Jade shifted back to her lamia form, changing her bathrobes into her day robes in the process. She stayed more silent than I¡¯d ever thought possible before our conversation, making no noise outside the whispering of the grass against her snakeskin.


    I coughed to break the silence. ¡°So...you and Hasda, huh?¡±


    Well that opened the floodgates. Interspersed with her rapid apologies were unbounded embarrassment and promises to respect my boundaries established as his guardian and patron. I had to hold up a hand to get a word in edgewise.


    ¡°I meant your relationship. It¡¯s going well?¡±


    Eyes on the ground, she colored deep scarlet and picked at her robes. ¡°You could say that.¡±


    I grunted to keep from choking on a laugh. ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. Just keep in mind your station.¡±


    She looked up, concerned. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to overstep¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not like that,¡± I said, shaking my head. We crested the last hill, nearly at the cabin. ¡°You¡¯re a grafted-in minor goddess. While I don¡¯t hold that against you, it means you can barely shelter any mortals you attach yourself to. Not to mention that Hasda is nearly a demigod with two Seated patrons.¡± The way it came out sounded like a brag, but I didn¡¯t intend it to. Jade took it well nevertheless. ¡°There¡¯s a distinct possibility that he¡¯ll eventually surpass you. So whatever you do, don¡¯t mix power and status with your relationship.¡±


    She ducked her head. ¡°Thank you for your advice, Aged One.¡±


    I nearly scowled. Despite my rickety body and many centuries, I didn¡¯t feel quite so old as I used to, which was a good development. But Jade had the maturity to listen to advice, at least, which boded well for their future together. I couldn¡¯t help the grin that crept across my face. They were kind of cute together. I wonder what their kids would be like?

 Chapter 55: "The Announcement"

    A few days later, the feast finally arrived. After leaving Jade to refresh herself, I hunted Hasda down and berated him for leaving the wrong sword sheathed. I wasn¡¯t too harsh on him, though, and I think he took the proper meaning to heart because we worked in several solid training sessions before the announcement of the Second Trial. The lad¡¯s insistence on wearing the possessed chestplate despite them being relaxed bouts with wooden swords slightly unnerved me, but I tucked the feeling away to discuss with Malia when she returned.


    By feast day, however, she still hadn¡¯t returned. It was only Seppo¡¯s reassurances that, yes, Malia was fine, she was just busy cementing Carthian rule and easing the new Oracle into her position in Karnak that kept me from barging through the maas back to Aenea. Our bond was quiet, which was also a good sign. But I¡¯d have thought Malia a little more efficient than that. She¡¯d been gone so long I¡¯d started paying attention to the days again.


    It was that thought, seated by myself as I was in the feasting hall, that made me realize that, maybe, I was just a little Malia deprived. The others had their partners, Thane and Azoria blushing as they fumbled through a conversation a few chairs to my right, Hasda and Jade speaking in hushed whispers in the language only they knew to my left. Despite my general leniency regarding their relationship, Jade looked uncomfortable being seated near the head of the table, her romance with Hasda on full display.


    Seppo looked just as annoyed as I did, although for vastly different reasons. While Hasda hadn¡¯t been disrespectful, he hadn¡¯t given Seppo a chance to offload more stories onto him. In fact, beyond a cordial greeting I don¡¯t think Hasda had spoken to him once. The old god sat with his chin in his hand, drumming his fingers around the edge of his plate with a sullen frown on his face.


    Several other gods had found their places around the table while the dryads flitted about, setting places and platters. Phaeus was on the opposite side of the table from me, a seat further down than he¡¯d been at Hasda¡¯s celebration feast. Resef and Vrixia sat opposite Jade and Hasda, taking a temporary reprieve from their agricultural showers to honor the start of the Second Trial. Across from me sat Tarrha, her aqueous water nymph form nearly transparent, with Saffi on her left. Although she had her eyes on me, she was clearly flirting with him, and I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they left together tonight.


    Aroma-laden steam rose from the table, floating peppery scents among the sweet honey smells of the glazes. Baked fish, boiled carrots, and black-peppered beans sat in tiers along the table, empty spaces next to them promises of desserts to come. The food was all very nice and bore Lutro¡¯s signature style, but the atmosphere of the feast was as mixed as a shepherd¡¯s stir fry.


    Bunched at the opposite end of the table, most of the minor gods chatted away about the return of the Sea Mother, their excitement only dampened by Jade¡¯s sudden elevation. I narrowed my eyes at them as I heard another unsavory comment about the lamia passed among them. While it wouldn¡¯t do to fight Jade¡¯s battles for her, I could always leave the minor gods a friendly reminder of who her boyfriend¡¯s patrons were.


    I scraped my tongue on my teeth. Now that was a word that was going to take some getting used to.


    As for the other gods, they either seemed depressed, distracted, or downright giddy. Talk of a potential war with Paedaea clashed with expectations about Hasda¡¯s Second Trial and his coming success. Tarrha¡¯d finally tired of my inattention and had turned her full focus on Saffi. Phaeus and Resef were debating the necessity of the dwarf forging more scythes before the fall harvest, with Vrixia leaning against her husband¡¯s shoulder, eyes closed and face content.


    ¡°Pardon me, but it seems you¡¯re in need of a good conversation,¡± a gravelly voice said from behind me.


    I jerked up as Zephyrus slipped his aged figure into Malia¡¯s seat. I hadn¡¯t heard him come up, and I was surprised that he¡¯d come himself, instead of letting Synnefo handle his attendance like he had for the first two feasts. Wisps of gray hair trailed from his mustache into his long, wavy hair, giving him a strangely draconic look. Which fit, since he assumed various sky serpent forms, depending on which weather he wanted to manifest.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Shaking my head, I said, ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you a sight for sore eyes. I didn¡¯t know they commissioned the Spartans to dig you out of the sand.¡±


    ¡°Hmph.¡± Zephyrus snorted, rattling his mustache. ¡°Retirement hasn¡¯t dulled your tongue a bit, Charax.¡±


    ¡°Glad to hear it. I take it that retirement hasn¡¯t quite gotten ahold of you, then?¡± I smiled as his eyes flooded silver.


    ¡°Mm, but it nearly has.¡± The way his eyes glistened, it felt like there was some hidden subtext I wasn¡¯t seeing.


    I brushed the thought aside. ¡°So what brings you out for the festivities?¡±


    Zephyrus looked past me at the lad. ¡°I have heard...things about your child. Good things.¡± He paused and blinked at me. ¡°Strange things.¡± Lowering his head towards me, he whispered, ¡°Is it true? The lad is a Beastwhisperer?¡±


    Frowning, I swallowed at the suddenly-uncomfortable feeling that clawed at my throat. ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°That will serve him well, I think.¡± Zephyrus nodded to himself. Eyes unfocused, he sat in a daze for a moment, then roused himself. ¡°Would you mind?¡±


    ¡°Mind what?¡±


    ¡°If I bless him, before I go.¡±


    The world tilted. After a couple long breaths I was back together. Although the air felt far heavier, conversations still swirled around the table, so only I¡¯d heard what Zephyrus had said. And what heart-sickeningly significant weight it carried.


    I couldn¡¯t help my frown. ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    Zephyrus gave me a tired smile that mirrored the ones that had far too recently etched my own face. ¡°The words I¡¯ve heard whispered on the wind, Charax, tell me your boy will have need of such boons.¡± He chuckled. ¡°And it¡¯ll piss old Tammy off to no end.¡±


    ¡°You should know,¡± I said slowly, ¡°that I¡¯ve already given Hasda a partial bless¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not so old as to be unsubtle,¡± Zephyrus said, waving my comment away. ¡°I¡¯ll give the boy his water lungs, and then be on my way.¡±


    I hissed as Zephyrus pushed to his feet. ¡°So you¡¯re going to leave? Just like that, no goodbyes to anyone?¡±


    His wrinkled fingers curled around the arms of the chair as he froze halfway up. Grunting, he regarded me with his expressive yet unrevealing eyes. ¡°When have I ever been about goodbyes?¡± He sighed as he slipped out of his seat and straightened. ¡°Besides, what would it matter? Seppo knows, Synnefo knows, and now you. Who else among our pantheon shares our history?¡±


    Even though the thought annoyed me, I held my tongue. Zephyrus was right. Most of the old guard had passed on already. Pek, I¡¯d tried to retire even before Zephyrus finally gave up. But it still grated, seeing him go.


    Sensing my understanding, Zephyrus nodded and patted my shoulder as he moved behind me to reach Hasda. Quietly, he interrupted their conversation, said a few words to the lad, and then plunged his hand into Hasda¡¯s chest. I could have warned him, but he took it with a brave face, smiling at the old god whose incorporeal hand was roaming around his chest cavity.


    After only a moment, the gift was given, and Zephyrus mumbled goodbyes as he shambled from the feasting hall. Seppo tilted his head to watch the weathered old weather god go, and once Zephyrus was out of sight Seppo rose and clanged his mug with a spoon.


    ¡°I¡¯ve half a mind to keep this short,¡± he said, his voice gravely with a hint of bitterness. ¡°Several of us are, yet again, absent from this feast.¡±


    ¡°Apologies for the delay, Lord Seppo,¡± Kydon rumbled as he took his seat halfway down the table. The hairy ogre made the table sag and groan as he sat down, but he looked grieved only to have arrived late.


    Seppo scowled. ¡°Others who could not be here on time due to outside obligations. As you all know, Aenea was recently divided and a portion taken from us.¡± He paused to sip his drink. ¡°That land has since been reclaimed. But the cause of that annexation was the Paedens¡¯ failed attempt to prevent one of their elder gods from returning. A formidable primordial, one who wields an amphibious army in the depths of the Great Sea, who will no doubt make moves against both pantheons once she¡¯s bolstered her position.¡± Digging at the table with the edge of his spoon, he sighed and kept his eyes down. ¡°While it would¡¯ve been better for both patrons to be present, Malia is otherwise occupied at the time, and Charax will suffice.¡±


    He set his spoon down and glanced at Hasda. ¡°To the west lie the Gates of Okher, guarded by the Ibithian hydra. You will travel there and forge an alliance with this hydra, as well as any merfolk who will bind themselves to our cause. Failing that, you will acquire one of the hydra¡¯s offspring, be it egg, hatchling, or juvenile.¡± He turned to Resef and Vrixia. ¡°No offense to either of you, but we need answers to a marine threat that you cannot provide.¡±


    Resef nodded, but Vrixia merely pressed her lips together and tightened her grip on his arm.


    Seppo¡¯s exoskeleton hissed as he folded his arms. ¡°Thus is the task I set before Hasda as his Second Trial. May he find success in his endeavors.¡±

 Chapter 56: "The Objection"

    His speech finished, Seppo went to sit back down. Before he¡¯d gotten halfway down, however, Kydon rose and cleared his throat.


    ¡°My lord, are you sure this constitutes a valid Trial?¡± Kydon¡¯s arms bulged as he folded them across his chest. ¡°The boy can speak to animals¡ªall animals¡ªand so stands to enter the Trial with an unfair advantage. Further, he has not yet completed his tasks nor attained a station higher than mortal, and yet this Trial sits uncomfortably close to an act of war. If we truly need this creature for our coming conflict, then would it not be better to send one of the gods?¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Kydon, for spelling out exactly why I chose this Trial.¡± Seppo held himself out of his seat, his pistons squealing in protest as he glared daggers at the troll. It¡¯d been a good while since Kydon¡¯s last rules-lawyering had gotten this far under Seppo¡¯s skin. The metal sheathing his fingers whined as he clenched the arms of his chair. ¡°If the lad succeeds, then he¡¯s shown himself worthy to be at least counted among us. And if he fails, he¡¯ll have two patrons and the whole damn pantheon behind him to clean up the mess and ensure we get what we need. Clear?¡±


    Kydon worked his jaw. ¡°No. We still have loopholes to close from the previous¡ª¡±


    ¡°What loopholes?¡± Seppo snapped. ¡°You mean trying to outlaw divine meddling? Good luck with that.¡±


    ¡°But Charax¡¯s interference in the previous Trial,¡± Kydon persisted. His frown twisted his face like a knotted tree stump. ¡°While it inhibited the boy¡¯s desired goal, it ended up being beneficial on the whole to the events that transpired. Therefore, patrons should be prohibited from interfering in the proceedings, regardless of whether it¡¯s a help or a hindrance.¡±


    ¡°It sounds to me,¡± I spat out before Seppo could retort, ¡°like you¡¯re trying to insinuate patrons shouldn¡¯t be involved at all.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I suggested.¡± Kydon arched his fingers on the table as he leaned forward. ¡°Merely, that patrons be limited as to how much influence patrons should have in the Trials.¡±


    I quirked a brow. ¡°So we shouldn¡¯t be allowed to offer advice?¡±


    ¡°That has always been within the confines of the Trials.¡± Kydon grunted. ¡°I simply wish to repair a breach in the stipulations.¡±


    I laughed as I reached for my glass. ¡°That patrons never try to keep their champions from succeeding? Why on earth would you need to outlaw that?¡±


    ¡°Because Malia, that¡¯s why,¡± Kydon growled. ¡°She, and you, played by the rules last time. The rules were shown to be in error. I wish to resolve such issues before the Second Trial commences.¡±


    Thunder crashed across the hall, rattling platters and drinks. In its wake, a turquoise portal flared to life, engulfing the entrance to the hall as it opened. Smatterings of raindrops pelted the tables as Malia slid into the hall, looking every bit like a drowned rat. She smoothed her scales and flicked the water from her fingers as her portal snapped shut.


    ¡°Did someone piss in your drink again, Seppo?¡± She frowned at him. ¡°It¡¯s a feast. Liven up. And, you, Kydon.¡± Snakes hissing, she glared at the ogre. ¡°Lay off him, or I¡¯ll wax your balls again.¡±


    He paled and sank into his chair. The table lurched as he crossed his legs, nearly upending the spread.


    Satisfied, Malia jerked her head as she made her way down my side of the table. She flicked her wings as she settled into her seat, giving me a sideways look as she did. ¡°What¡¯d I miss?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve waxed Kydon¡¯s balls?¡± I couldn¡¯t help myself. I needed to know the story behind that one.


    She laughed and had the most self-satisfied expression as she stared at Kydon over her wine. ¡°He was being an ass about some legal issue and I got tired of him. He sometimes sleeps standing up in the middle of a field, did you know that?¡± Her smile broadened as she finished a sip. ¡°Mm, the most delightful shrieks I¡¯ve ever heard.¡± Her eyes slid over to Seppo. ¡°Hasda not paying enough attention to him?¡±


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I grunted. ¡°You could say that.¡±


    Jade ducked when Malia looked her way at them. Malia¡¯s eyebrows rose an inch. ¡°Something happen on that front?¡±


    ¡°I, er, caught them in the sauna.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Malia¡¯s eyes sparkled, and I couldn¡¯t tell if she was satisfied or stalking her next kill.


    I nudged her shoulder with my own. ¡°We need to talk after the feast.¡±


    ¡°About?¡±


    ¡°A lot.¡± I sighed. ¡°We have a lot of catching up to do.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± She skewered a piece of meat with her fork and swallowed it, barely chewing it. ¡°Seppo, you¡¯ll be pleased to know Tale, that little servant girl wearing your¡­¡± She twirled her fork around her head. ¡°Well, she¡¯s still wearing the device and has settled into the role of Oracle in Karnak. We¡¯ll still need a suitable replacement for Palmyra, but communications with Aenea have been reestablished, at least.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Malia,¡± Seppo said. ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear it.¡±


    Kydon grumbled something.


    Malia shot him a look. ¡°What was that?¡±


    The troll frowned and leaned back. ¡°You can demand my silence and muddy the waters with your side topics all you want, I still won¡¯t consider the matter resolved.¡±


    ¡°Pray tell,¡± Malia said, narrowing her eyes, ¡°how you plan to justify outlawing nonsensical behavior.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t convince me that there¡¯s no logic to benefitting from negative interference.¡± Kydon scowled at her. ¡°That would make it an advantageous intercession.¡±


    ¡°Azoria, dear, would you mind repeating what you told me prior to the last Trial?¡± Malia¡¯s eyes hardened, never leaving Kydon¡¯s.


    Azoria shivered, probably from the glacially-cold tension in the room, as she disentangled herself from her awkward conversation with Thane. ¡°According to the annals, a patron deity retains the right to handle the life of their champion as they see fit. This ancient¡ª¡±


    ¡°That passage holds no weight during Trials,¡± Kydon interjected. He jabbed a finger in the air. ¡°As per the very creed that established the Rite of Trials, all members of the pantheon agree to be bound by the limits established for each Trial, such limitations adjusted as context permits or requires before the commencement of succeeding tasks.¡±


    ¡°Not that sentence.¡± Her eyes sparkled as she placed her hands on the table, leaning towards the massive brute. ¡°What was the one I asked about specifically, Azoria?¡±


    ¡°Punishment and execution of a champion, be it for disobedience, blasphemy, shame, or the whims of the mortal¡¯s patron deity, shall remain within the discretion of said patron deity, so long as breath remains within their chosen¡¯s lungs.¡± She slid closer to Thane as she said it, keeping her eyes off Hasda and Jade. Who¡¯d have thought, but the pair had gone quiet, along with everyone else in the hall. Azoria folded her hands in her lap as she continued. ¡°This law supersedes the Rite of Trials.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Malia bared her fangs.  ¡°Remind me again, Kydon. What station do you hold?¡±


    ¡°Arbiter of Nebesa.¡± He said flatly.


    ¡°Hmm, funny that.¡± Malia tapped her bottom lip. ¡°Still no ¡®legislator¡¯ among your titles.¡± Wings spread, she gave him a maniacal grin. ¡°So until you¡¯re responsible for writing the laws, kindly uphold them as written.¡±


    His nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath. ¡°You push me, woman, and I¡¯ll¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll what?¡± I said quietly, leaning around Malia¡¯s wing. The temperature of the room fell a couple dozen degrees.


    Kydon snorted. ¡°I¡¯m not afraid of you, Charax. The law is the law, and Malia can only twist it so far.¡±


    The air crackled around me so sharply that Malia nearly put her hand on my shoulder. I smiled, and I saw Resef and Vrixia flinch away from the intimidating aura that caught them in the collateral damages. I¡¯d smooth that over later. To Kydon, I said, ¡°Just keep in mind who you¡¯re threatening when you go opening your mouth.¡±


    ¡°And you, yours,¡± he retorted. ¡°You want Hasda¡¯s Trial invalidated before it even begins?¡±


    Seppo slammed the table so hard it bowed and cracked in the middle, several yards away from us. Plates rocketed into the ceiling, drinks flooding platters and splashing on the floor. ¡°That¡¯s blood well enough!¡± he roared, halfway out of his seat again. ¡°You,¡± he snarled, jabbing a finger at Kydon, ¡°can shut your trap, or I¡¯ll have you thrown out on the steps until you learn to mind your tongue. And you two¡ª¡± he swung towards me and Malia ¡°¡ªI can understand defending your honor, but a pissing match with a toddler? Please.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s rich, coming from a bedwetter,¡± Malia said, showing her teeth as she batted her eyes.


    Seppo¡¯s pistons chose that moment to vent, emphasizing her point. No one said anything, and only the dripping of a spilled flagon broke the silence. Finally, Seppo burst out laughing.


    ¡°All right, point taken.¡± He shook his head and sat back down. ¡°I¡¯ve already commenced this Trial, Kydon. You had ample time to bring any misgivings you had about the rules to me before this feast, so it¡¯s on your head for waiting until after I¡¯d made my announcement to broach your grievances. If you still feel that way after the conclusion of this Trial, we can address your complaints then. Fair?¡±


    The half-troll nodded but kept his mouth shut.


    Malia folded her wings and settled into her chair. I sighed with relief, glad that that was taken care of. For now. Knowing Kydon, he¡¯d enforce the rules of the Second Trial as they now stood in a fair and straightforward manner, but he¡¯d be building his legal arguments the whole time.


    I relaxed into my seat and set about recovering my scattered food. Also knowing Malia, she probably had two or three defenses at the ready for whatever Kydon brought against her, most likely prepared with Azoria¡¯s help. But she¡¯d already be scheming, working on tertiary plans to the tertiary plans.


    Malia nudged me as she settled into her seat. ¡°Maybe we should have a word with Hasda after.¡±


    Oh, right. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hasda and Jade huddled slightly closer together, their conversation hushed and their hands held below the table painfully obvious to everyone but themselves. I grunted. ¡°Maybe you should, since you decided to flaunt our right to off him on a whim in front of the whole pantheon.¡±


    ¡°Point taken.¡± She wrinkled her nose at me and played with her wine while she mulled over how she was going to spin this to Hasda. Apologizing had never been her strong suit.

 Chapter 57: The Catch-Up

    The rest of the feast passed in a somber blur. Ulti came prancing in sometime after sunset, their dress a rich navy blue, speckled with warm stars. Shortly after, Malia excused herself, tapping Hasda on the shoulder on her way out. He left a very concerned Jade behind, but only because Malia glared daggers at her. I gave her some reassurances after Malia left, but there wasn¡¯t much to say beyond yes, Malia could be prickly and no, you don¡¯t have anything to worry about.


    Their departure started a chain reaction of early withdrawals, most notably the two pairs across from me. Resef and Vrixia had the pantheon¡¯s leave to keep to their own schedules, especially during growing seasons and harvest time, but Thane and Azoria were a new addition to the slight breach of protocol. Resef had pulled Thane away to discuss the deaths of the Oracles and the new replacement, however, so it made sense to have Thane help settle the matter, along with the help of our Goddess of Wisdom.


    Kydon left not long after, and when Phaeus began passing sideways comments about the quality of the mirth and atmosphere, Seppo announced an official abstinence of formal festive procedure, and that the gods should feel free to leave whenever they felt so inclined. An exodus of opportunity-seeking minor gods followed this proclamation, although there were more than a few handfuls of deities dedicated to revelry who remained.


    Phaeus at least restrained himself long enough not to bolt at the first opportunity. Ulti danced off, chasing a comet. Jade muttered her excuses and slithered away.


    Seppo picked at a slab of meat on his plate. ¡°Where did Hasda go?¡±


    ¡°With Malia.¡± I folded my arms and stared at my own half-eaten food. ¡°She¡¯s smoothing over things with him about the whole ¡®meaningless execution¡¯ thing.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°As she should. Well.¡± Setting his fork down, he pushed to his feet and brushed nonexistent crumbs off his robes. ¡°The night is getting on, and I don¡¯t fancy sleeping in this hard chair. Good night, Charax.¡±


    I murmured a goodbye and watched Seppo thump away. The feast had mostly broken up, especially with the head of our pantheon gone, and I really didn¡¯t feel like scavenging for conversation with the remaining gods. Leaving my plate half eaten, I slipped from my chair and through my portal into Maas Pirene.


    The fountain splashed in the night, its energy muted by the veil of darkness and the cool of the late summer air. Malia would be along whenever she finished, and sitting alone by the water would give me time to get my thoughts in order.


    We had so much ground to cover. Jade¡¯s secret (and how we were going to defend Tingin against Tamiyat), Synnefo¡¯s soon-to-be Seated status, Zephyrus¡¯ parting gift. Whether we¡¯d need to declare war on the Paedens, and what moves we¡¯d need to take prior to such a declaration. That blasted prophecy that hung over my shadow like a bad omen. And that wasn¡¯t even touching on the plans we¡¯d need to make¡ªor which ones Malia would be willing to share beforehand¡ªabout Hasda¡¯s new Trial.


    I sat on the edge of the fountain and let my mind wander, parsing the various threads without focusing on any as I waited for Malia to return. As my mind drifted, my body relaxed, the rough surface of the fountain digging into my palms with comfortingly familiar pain. Throughout the centuries, the bricks had remained uneven, refusing to wear down under decades of splashing water and divine caresses. They were stubborn, old things, like the gods who called this maas home.


    Feathers brushed my shoulder as Malia settled down next to me. Wrapping a wing around me, she nestled against my arm.


    ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡± I asked, hugging her close.


    She sighed and leaned into the warmth. ¡°Mm, he took it very well for a mortal.¡± Her nose wrinkled as she snorted. ¡°I think he even expected something like that.¡±


    ¡°Getting predictable in your old age?¡±


    She gave me a playful nudge. ¡°You¡¯re one to talk.¡±


    ¡°So what took so long?¡± I kissed the top of her head.


    Leaning back onto my chest, she frowned up at me. ¡°I took him through the maas to see if we could scout the Ibithian hydra before we officially journeyed for the Trial.¡±


    ¡°As expected.¡± I rubbed her shoulder. ¡°So why the long face?¡±


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    The corners of her lips sank further and her snakes hissed. ¡°All the avenues to Ibithia through the maas system are blocked.¡±


    Now it was my turn to frown. ¡°All of them? Like¡ª¡±


    ¡°Exactly like the Paedens obstruction of Aenea,¡± she said, her voice annoyed. ¡°I checked multiple of the adjacent maas. All obstructed.¡±


    ¡°Did you check with the Oracles?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ll pay Phemonoe a visit tomorrow and see if she still possesses the skills to keep her office.¡±


    ¡°Be nice.¡± I booped her nose. As much as I played it off, a second barrier was rather concerning. If Ibithia were shrouded from Carthian influence, we¡¯d be potentially powerless going into this next Trial. Not to mention the unsettling fact that this new obstacle just so happened to coincide with the next major Carthian movement. But with the Sea Mother now loose in the world, there was no guarantee that this was the Paedens doing, and even if it were, there was no telling how long the barrier had actually been up.


    Ibithia was a backwater territory that abutted the edge of the known world, with a vast, endless ocean beyond its western beaches. We rarely took our trade routes across the strait that connected the Great Sea to the endless ocean because Carthians had held maritime dominance for centuries now, and Ibithia held little value, strategically or resourcefully speaking. Its only alluring feature was how easy it made defending the Great Sea from truly eldritch abominations that occasionally sought to vacation in our smaller Sea, a job held by the hydra we were about to requisition.


    Yet another tangled thread to unravel. But before we went chasing that ball of yarn too far, I steered the conversation towards recounting the events that Malia had missed and needed to know. She lay mostly still as she listened, running her fingers up and down my robes or across the back of my arm.


    I told her about Zephyrus finally retiring and leaving the pantheon, blessing Hasda with underwater breathing before he departed. About Tamiyat¡¯s mate, imprisoned in or under Jade¡¯s mines, and how we¡¯d need to devise some strategy to protect that cell against the Sea Mother¡¯s attacks. About Nanshe¡¯s demeanor and the potential weak link in the Paeden pantheon she represented.


    When I told her about the prophecy, however, she went still and held her breath until I¡¯d finished. Moving my arm out of the way, she sat up and stared into my eyes.


    ¡°¡®An Adder and an Apparition will be his undoing and his salvation, and a daughter of the Heavenly Bull will be his downfall and rule in his stead,¡¯¡± she repeated. ¡°You¡¯re sure this was a prophetic vision?¡±


    I resisted the urge to fold my arms. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have called it that if I weren¡¯t.¡±


    She hissed and flared her wings, then pulled them back in. ¡°Gods just don¡¯t have those kinds of dreams.¡±


    ¡°Believe me, I know.¡± I ran my fingers through my scant hair. ¡°But whoever this Sybil was, she felt like she was old enough to have watched Tamiyat¡¯s grandmother grow up.¡±


    ¡°Does the Sea Mother even have ancestors that far back?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°How should I know? All I¡¯m saying is that, if we had to fight one or the other, I¡¯d take a legion of Tamiyats any day.¡±


    ¡°She might be some sort of Paeden illusionist,¡± Malia said, brow pinched. ¡°You were in mortal form, which could be just enough to let another god traverse your dreams. And with illusory abilities, they could have easily woven such a false identity, especially with Tamiyat¡¯s maddening influence encroaching on the land.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Being with you as long as I have, you think I haven¡¯t learned to recognize such sleight of hand?¡±


    She puffed out her cheeks but said nothing.


    ¡°Don¡¯t pout.¡± I stroked her face. ¡°Although it is adorable.¡±


    ¡°Be serious.¡± She half-heartedly swatted my hand.


    I smiled. ¡°Okay. It¡¯s ridiculously adorable.¡±


    That earned a stuck-out tongue.


    ¡°In all seriousness, I felt a certainty in my bones about her authenticity.¡± I held her close as she raised her eyebrows at me. ¡°I know, it sounds ridiculously cheesy, but it¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡± Malia shifted to let her snakes flick their tongues without getting a mouthful of my robes. ¡°So there¡¯s possibly a being¡ªso immensely powerful we don¡¯t even have a term for it¡ªwith unknown motivations, running around and leaving vague forebodings intended to distract us and obstruct our success.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not worried about what the prophecy means?¡±


    She gave me a look. ¡°Of course not. I figured it out already.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°I knew you¡¯d say something like that.¡±


    ¡°Hey.¡± She thumped my chest. ¡°Just because I didn¡¯t figure out that gods splitting an Office was a possibility, it doesn¡¯t mean I have no skill in interpretation. Besides, how was I supposed to deduce that¡ª¡±


    ¡°So what do you think it means?¡± I said, cutting off another long-winded defense of her previous shortcomings.


    ¡°Well, the ¡®Adder¡¯ is obviously me.¡± She smiled in her self-confident way as she settled into her explanation. ¡°And the ¡®Apparition¡¯ can only be that pesky djinn Hasda picked up.¡±


    ¡°Oh really?¡± I couldn¡¯t help sharing her smile. ¡°And how would you explain the betrayal part, then?¡±


    ¡°Simple. Since it¡¯s not coming from me, then that has to be about the djinn.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Which makes sense on the surface. And¡ª¡± I held up a finger to forestall any celebration, ¡°¡ªis also far too straightforward. Prophecies are never that simple.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s still the most likely explanation, and you can¡¯t argue that we shouldn¡¯t have misgivings about that djinn,¡± she said, scowling.


    I kissed her forehead to wipe the wrinkles away. ¡°All right. Then what about the Heavenly Bull bit?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been digging up what information I can find about this Marudak.¡± Her eyes flashed with pride. ¡°He¡¯s some kind of minotaur, although all the reports on what makes him the uniquely Paeden variety disagree. Multiple horns, heads, arms, fish or avian features¡ªI¡¯ve heard it all.¡±


    That made sense. What made things hard was whether the prophecy meant one of his literal daughters, so a Paeden goddess, or a Chosen One from among the multitude of Paeden children. Malia immediately suspected Jade and, even after explaining the whole ¡°time vault¡± thing, still thought it could be her. And she was right, as much as I didn¡¯t want to admit it. Marudak was exactly the kind of god who¡¯d lock one of his own children in with their recently defeated elder god. Who knows, maybe having his own bloodline watching the crypt was a plus for him.


    I wasn¡¯t entirely sold on Malia¡¯s interpretation of the prophecy, but since we both knew that and understood we weren¡¯t going to get anywhere rehashing it repeatedly left it aside for now. We¡¯d leave for Hasda¡¯s Trial in the next few days, so we¡¯d need to be as prepared as possible for it.

 Chapter 58: "The Ship"

    A few days came and went, and with it a ton of packing, stockpiling, and gathering of luggage. Jade was going to come with us until Malia chased her off, and when I tried to ask her about it, all she said was, ¡°She has her mines to attend to.¡± Hasda didn¡¯t have time to be disappointed about Jade¡¯s absence, however, because I had him in the sparring pit working on his swordplay every chance I got. He wasn¡¯t bad, and he hadn¡¯t left off his training quite as much as I¡¯d thought, but he still wasn¡¯t anywhere near the level he needed to be to face a thick-scaled, poison-spewing hydra.


    With the maas around Ibitihia blocked, we decided to take the scenic route over the Great Sea. While the celestial ship we¡¯d sail on would make the journey in a quarter of the time that a mortal vessel would, it¡¯d still take nearly a week and a half to traverse the distance. Teleporting through the maas and exiting as close to the Ibithian forest as possible would have been faster, but it also would have been much harder to transport all our supplies. So, traversing the seas it was. This wasn¡¯t necessarily a bad thing, since Malia would want to monitor the derketo¡¯s aquatic movements, and I¡¯d have ample time to get Hasda some practice in using his new water lungs.


    Before we left, however, there was the matter of Synnefo¡¯s ascension from disciple to master. Normally, there¡¯d be a huge ceremony in which the previously Seated god would transfer their Office and spirit to their successor, imparting the remaining portion of their power to their apprentice. Since Zephyrus had vacated the premises and Synnefo had been the acting God of Weather for years now, however, it was entirely possible that Zephyrus had already done his transfer of power ¡°under the table,¡± so to speak. And for Synnefo not to get the pomp and ceremony of a Seated god, well.


    As far as I knew, Resef and Vrixia had taken direct control of the rainy season this year, and Synnefo hadn¡¯t been involved in the weather patterns past the wind. Perhaps the Office was being split and Zephyrus¡¯ former Seat removed. Seppo had taken Synnefo aside in his throne room, the pair had spent no more than an hour together, and then Synnefo had left for his maas while Seppo rejoined us at the celestial docks. He didn¡¯t say anything, merely clunked his way across the gangplank and plunked his way to the bulkhead, where he stood gazing out to sea while he waited for us to depart.


    To my surprise, Thane came along as well¡ªwithout Azoria in tow. He didn¡¯t look upset or like he¡¯d been through any recent fights, though, so perhaps Azoria had business elsewhere. With a Trial about to begin and Malia¡¯s collusion with her for the First Trial, her absence felt weird. A sideways glance at Malia didn¡¯t reveal anything, either. My gorgon was leaning over the gunwale, wings catching the sunlight as she relaxed against the side of the ship.


    Hasda came aboard with his light sack slung across his back, his sword at his side. Like me, he hadn¡¯t packed much, maybe a few changes of clothes at most. His armor, including the corrupted chestplate, and other weapons had been stowed earlier, and I didn¡¯t like how pale he looked without it. Ever since he¡¯d bound the djinn to his armor, he hadn¡¯t looked healthy when he wasn¡¯t wearing it. I frowned at his back as he made his way below deck. If there was some kind of interdependency there, I¡¯d need to figure out a way to nix it without crippling him. I could show more leniency to balance out Malia¡¯s tight grip, but even I could only give so much with that strange, untrustworthy creature. Hasda could hold his own, but if that djinn had any ties to Tamiyat¡¯s former mate, I¡¯d rip it out of the very folds of the metal and shred it myself.


    As the minotaur crew bellowed to their harpy shipmates, the dockside bulls tossed the mooring ropes onto the ship. Babask macaques, wiry monkeys with golden fur and an extra set of arms, scampered across the rigging in an elaborate dance with the airborne sailors as they unfurled and adjusted the sails. Unlike mortal triremes, ours had a third mast behind the main one, two supporting sails flanking each primary sail, and three tiers of oars that would sweep the air and the water. Not only was it an imposing sight, but it also made for quite the transition as it sailed through the portal from Nebesa to the Great Sea below.


    With the final preparations complete, the boat glided away from the dock. The heavenly illusion of water glistened as sparks scattered across its surface. Three concentric rings of energy rippled out from the ship, growing towards the horizon until they almost disappeared from sight. When the third ring had caught up with the first two, the portal snapped open, swallowing the ship. Spirals of conflicting aura lined the tunnel we fell through like ribs, colors ranging from dull reds to vibrant greens and blues.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    After a moment, three more rings, these ones golden, surged from the prow of the trireme, like the ringing of a gong made visible. Another portal unfolded in their wake, opening onto the churning gray water of the Great Sea. The sails whipped in the wind, the oars moaned in their joints, and then we landed on the mortal body of water. A massive plume of water heralded our arrival and rained down on us as it collapsed.


    Cranky seagulls screamed at us as they wheeled away. Although we hadn¡¯t flattened any mortal ships with our sudden arrival, I was fairly sure I saw a few fish flopping down in the spray. The air was heavy-laden with salt, not quite enough to make my nostril sting, but close. As the ship settled, I swayed my way across the deck, getting my sea legs under me as I made for the hatch. Hasda needed to practice using his new water lungs, and no better time to start than now.


    Malia raised a brow in question, and I nodded. Laughing, she ran her palms over her wings to cover them with a water-resistant film. ¡°Got some of your old impatience back, I see.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°He needs to get used to breathing underwater.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± She smiled and leaned back. ¡°Let me scan the area first.¡± And with that, she twisted and dove into the water.


    I kicked at the hatch. ¡°Hasda! Come on out. We¡¯ve got some training to do.¡±


    Barrels below deck clattered together as Hasda crawled out. I stopped him before he got all the way up the ladder.


    ¡°Leave the armor. It¡¯ll only get in the way.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    I held up a hand. ¡°Especially the chestplate.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± He frowned but descended to store the protection.


    When he was finally ready¡ªwhich took far too long, since he had no excuses with Jade absent¡ªhe joined me on the port side. Wearing nothing but plain, white shorts, he stood next to me, silent, moving out of the way of the tawny-furred minotaurs lumbering back and forth behind us. It was good to see he¡¯d maintained his discipline and acclimated well to the ship.


    ¡°Did Zephyrus explain his gift?¡± I asked. The surface of the Great Sea flecked white in dozens of places as the waves shifted, as if peppered by sown seeds.


    Hasda shook his head. ¡°All he said was that I¡¯d need this in the future.¡± He spread his hands over his chest and glanced down. ¡°But he didn¡¯t say what ¡®this¡¯ was, exactly.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Does it still feel weird?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± He rubbed his ribs. ¡°It only tingled while his hand was...doing whatever that was.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I pulled him up next to the railing and turned him to face me. ¡°He changed your lungs so you could breathe underwater. Not breathe the water itself, mind you, but so long as there is air within the water itself you¡¯ll survive.¡±


    ¡°So stagnant water could kill me?¡±


    ¡°Rather, you won¡¯t be able to stay under as long. And black water¡± I paused as a burst of sea water splashed over the side of the ship. ¡°Although black water is rarely black. Usually, the water is green or red, with a nasty, sticky film on the surface. Never try to breathe that water.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± He leaned over the gunwale. ¡°Any other limitations I should know about?¡±


    Good lad. I grinned. ¡°You¡¯ll need to learn to pace your breathing so you don¡¯t knock yourself out from low air. While there¡¯s a bit of magic in Zephyrus¡¯ gift to help you get the most out of a little, it¡¯s still not the same as breathing normal air. Exert yourself too much, and you¡¯ll faint. And it doesn¡¯t do anything to improve your underwater aerodynamics, so you won¡¯t be outrunning any derketo. Try to avoid them at all costs, if you can.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°How does it work? Do I just breathe normally?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll need to fill your lungs and nostrils with water to activate the gift.¡± My bond with Malia tugged slightly, giving the all-clear. ¡°So today, you¡¯ll work on overcoming your instincts not to drown. Ready?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help myself. While I¡¯d asked if he was prepared, I only gave him just enough time to process what I¡¯d said before pushing him overboard. Malia was still circling beneath the ship, and with his water lungs he stood in no danger of drowning. He squawked a little and flailed his arms as he fell but recovered just in time not to slap the water.


    After a bit of floundering, he forced his head under and blew out his surface air. It took him a couple tries before he finally got the hang of it, but eventually he was gulping down water and staying under on his own without jerking towards the surface. The occasional involuntary shudder betrayed his nerve, but Hasda was a good lad. He¡¯d feel at ease beneath the waves by the end of our journey for sure.

 Chapter 59: "The Forest"

    By the time we finished our voyage, Hasda had a handle on his new underwater breathing. It still took him a bit transitioning between habitats, especially coming out of the water, but he wasn¡¯t flailing like he was drowning or trying to retch his lungs out anymore. Malia had prowled the depths every practice session and had never been needed, neither to fight off derketo nor rescue Hasda. She¡¯d been cranky about not being able to trace the derketo¡¯s movements. While I shared her frustration, it made me more concerned because if they weren¡¯t tracking us, what were they doing?


    We still didn¡¯t have any answers by the time we reached our destination. The sylvan shores of Ibithia peppered the horizon, the lumpy canopy looming with vague foreboding. Despite being unreachable by maas, Ibithia had presented no obstacles for our sea-bound arrival, and none of the gods aboard reported feeling any resistance as we neared the coast. Landfall and unloading also went without a hitch, leaving Malia and I to trail Hasda inland and ponder the strange situation.


    Although Seppo and Thane had accompanied us across the Sea, neither stayed with us as we headed into the forest. Seppo stayed on the ship to supervise its return to Nebesa, and Thane took off west as soon as his feet hit the earth. Why, he didn¡¯t say, and we didn¡¯t have time to ask him. Hasda had wandered off almost immediately, losing himself among the trees. Malia and I hurried after him, barely able to keep him in sight as he wended his way around trunks and over the underbrush.


    Before long, it grew dark. Unnaturally so. We¡¯d arrived mid-morning and had been chasing Hasda barely an hour, and yet the forest had gone dusky dark. Cicadas droned around us, their rattling constant and disorienting. The air grew muggy, slathering us with the rich scent of loam. We heard no birds and saw no animals. Whatever path Hasda followed wasn¡¯t clear to us, but he moved with certainty.


    Malia flared her wings as we crossed a gully. ¡°Do you feel that?¡±


    ¡°Feel what?¡± Dirt scrabbled down the incline behind us as we landed on the other side. I glanced down and watched the clods tumble onto the decomposing leaves below. Outside of Hasda¡¯s erratic yet strangely controlled behavior, nothing felt off to me.


    Malia narrowed her eyes at Hasda¡¯s vanishing back and pushed a breath through her nose. ¡°Forest magic.¡±


    ¡°What kind?¡± I followed as she slithered ahead.


    Wings tucked, she quickened her pace, crushing twigs undertail as she gave up trying to be quiet. Slender branches whipped in her wake, several stinging my arms or catching me in the face as I kept up a little too well. I let my senses crawl over the aura of the forest, but felt nothing amiss. No telltale signs betrayed an awaiting ambush, none of my revived battle senses screaming of warnings gathered subconsciously. But the leaves and the trees became an ethereal blur, and I lost sight of Malia and Hasda.


    Still water rippled as my footsteps disturbed the glassy surface. A hazy fog, like the blur of the distant edge of my vision, ringed me in. If I stretched out my arms, my fingertips would brush the edges of the enclosed space. Every nerve was alight, my instincts screaming that this was not an experience I was going to enjoy.


    Directly in front of me, the haze clouded. From the murky gray formed the sketch of a figure in tattered robes. Cold gripped my core, and not just because ice frosted the mist and froze the pond. I knew¡ªI knew¡ªit was her. She didn¡¯t need to open her mouth, didn¡¯t need to replicate her image across the ring of fog as she was now doing, for me to realize who was responsible for this vision.


    But why now? And in my waking hours? How?


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Chasing my words, like a dog chasing its tail.¡± She sounded disappointed. None of the featureless faces moved, the voice echoing around me from every one. ¡°Blind to their meaning, bound to a future far from here.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I hated the tremble in my voice, but I couldn¡¯t help it. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Sleeping like a babe because your eyes tell you it¡¯s night.¡± Slowly, the wraiths tilted to the right and began to circle through the fog, never breaching the surface. ¡°Confident in the comfortable familiarity of illusion, yet blind to it even now.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Panic spiked through my chest. Belatedly, I realized that the frost now covered me. Whether this specter were real or imagined, I couldn¡¯t move. ¡°How are you doing this?¡±


    ¡°What wears a human face, yet is not human?¡± The voice was almost mocking in its unfaltering commitment to ignoring my cries. ¡°What rivals the divine, yet is not deity? How can one covet what one cannot comprehend?¡± The banshees circled faster and faster, shaving off layers of distortion that lazily spiraled onto the frozen surface. ¡°How can there be good faith or bad, if there was no faith to begin with?¡±


    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡±


    The phantoms froze in place so suddenly, for a moment I thought the frost had affected them as well. Then they scattered, blown away like morning mist. Light flooded my eyes as the distorting haze vanished. Each phantasm fled in a different direction, racing away into the forest. Malia was nowhere to be seen, but Hasda was miles away in front of me, dogged in his determination to reach his destination. And hot on his heels was a pack of spirits wearing forest garb. The wraiths dove into the backs of the spirits, and the vision vanished.


    Malia loomed over me, the canopy of her wings sheltering us. I was on my back on the ground, breathing heavily. Sweat drenched my forehead and made my robes cling to my back. A stone ground into my ribs just next to my spine as I shifted and struggled to orient myself. The darkness of the forest had lightened, but not by much.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Malia asked, face pinched with concern.


    I scraped my elbows against pebbles in the dirt as I pushed myself upright. ¡°Did I pass out?¡±


    ¡°And you were foaming at the mouth like a madman.¡± Her snakes hissed. ¡°This darkness has some kind of anesthetic effect.¡± She sniffed. ¡°You¡¯ve become too human lately. I think we might need the more skeletal you for now.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re saying you¡¯re not the only one who¡¯s put on a few pounds.¡± Grinning, I shuffled to my feet and jogged in the direction Hasda had gone in the vision.


    Malia kept pace, tucking her wings as she stayed beside me. ¡°You want to talk about it?¡±


    ¡°Hasda first, vision after.¡± I puffed as I shed the mass I¡¯d been acquiring since my return. Unfortunately, losing the muscle meant re-aging myself, but it couldn¡¯t be helped. At least with all the time I¡¯d spent in Nebesa recently, stomping about in this rickety old thing was much more manageable.


    We tore through the forest in silence. No matter how fast we went, we never seemed to gain ground on Hasda. I couldn¡¯t have been out for more than a few minutes, and yet he¡¯d put an insane amount of distance between us. Or...more than one enchantment was layered on this forest. I slid to a halt next to a shaggy barked tree and sagged onto it.


    Malia¡¯s eyes were wide, on the verge of blasting everything in sight. ¡°Another one?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Have we been going in circles?¡±


    ¡°One way to find out.¡± And with that, she snapped to the side and carved a line of blight at a diagonal from us. Closing her eyes, she sighed and brushed her hands together. ¡°After you.¡±


    With a grunt, I pushed off the tree and headed in the direction I thought Hasda had gone, leaving the blighted stripe behind me and to the left. We churned through several hundred more yards of forest and, after fifteen minutes of racing, came upon the head of Malia¡¯s pestilential path.


    I frowned as I stared at the curve that ended the strip, made ragged by half-charred, curling grasses. ¡°Have humans grown strong enough to hinder the gods?¡±


    ¡°Not with any magic currently at their disposal.¡± Malia folded her arms and eyed the swath of shriveled earth like she wanted to raze it again. ¡°A single deity would struggle against a pair of gods of our caliber, and a group of gods would stick out.¡±


    ¡°So if it¡¯s not gods¡­¡± I didn¡¯t like where this was going. Either it was something higher¡ªand stronger¡ªthan us, or perhaps it was an abstraction on the verge of becoming an embodied Being. Abstractions were nasty bastards because they were vague, formless ideas held by less sophisticated groups. Not savages, because there was nothing barbaric about simplicity, but tribes that practiced animism of some kind. The worst were the ones who believed in a ¡°unifying spirit¡± of their people, because it created a spiritual link that allowed them to toe the line between mortal and divine.


    I hadn¡¯t gotten a good look at the witches in my vision, but if these women turned out to be in that last group, they would be a total pain in the ass to wrangle. A coven of mortal witches? Simple enough to handle. But sorceresses who shared a transcendent bond that could catapult a member, or the collective as a singular being, into godhood? I¡¯d rather wipe with sand.


    ¡°Let me try something,¡± Malia said, still frowning at the ground. Her skin shimmered as she transitioned into the astral plane. Ozone and berries scented the air as her snakes bled into their starry counterparts. A splash of the transcendent colored her face, and she screamed.

 Chapter 60: "The Sisters"

    Malia jerked out of the astral plane, hissing. Her face was dry and flaking, cracks snaking from the corners of her eyes as steam rose from her face. Fangs bared, she snarled and swiped at the now-closed portal. ¡°That bitch!¡±


    ¡°Tamiyat?¡± I resisted the urge to check the transcendent plane myself.


    ¡°Yes.¡± She dragged out the s-sound, eyes narrowed. ¡°I didn¡¯t see her, but her power was everywhere.¡±


    ¡°That would explain the blocked maas.¡± I pulled Malia forward, guiding her around the trees as we pressed on. Although I was gentle, I couldn¡¯t avoid the growing unease nipping at my heels. ¡°Did you get a glimpse of the witches?¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t see anything!¡± Malia snapped a sapling with a flick of her tail as we passed it. ¡°She¡¯s irradiated this whole area with her toxic aura.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s concerning.¡± I swatted at a branch that didn¡¯t know its place, scraping my bones against its knobby bark. ¡°If she did it intentionally, then that means she either predicted our movements or has a source.¡±


    Malia touched her burnt face and hissed. ¡°Assuming she knows what we¡¯re doing. But what worries me is, if she does know, what¡¯s more important than stopping us?¡±


    I growled. That was an excellent point. What made predicting Tamiyat difficult, besides the obvious generational gap, was her inability to directly influence the physical realm. With her mate literally interred beneath Jade¡¯s mines, she¡¯d need some way to actually reach the crypt before she could breach it. If she were looking for a new physical avatar, she could be searching practically anywhere¡ªassuming she wanted another proxy like Lazuli.


    But if she wanted her own body, she could be off in a remote mountain, organizing the construction of one through weak-spirited or easily influenced mortals. Or a hidden cult of secrets, dedicated to her memory, working in the shadows to bring about her return. Or a foreign nation completely hijacked to her purpose. Or any number of things. We just didn¡¯t know, and being unable to track her in the astral plane was going to make things even more difficult.


    Without any fanfare, Malia and I stumbled into a circle of sunlight and laughter that took our breaths away. The golden rays were warm yet blinding, the floral fragrance filling the clearing choking in its unexpectedness. Seated in the middle of this glade was Hasda, surrounded by a handful of tanned women, scantily clad in flowering vines and all of them with long, flowing hair the same earthy shade of brown. Though of similar builds, their faces were just different enough to be distinguishable.


    To his credit, Hasda kept his eyes where they belonged. He smiled as he chatted with the coven, and they tittered like a pack of sparrows as they hid falsely bashful smiles. The witches turned as one as we stumbled into their sunny space, their eyes intense though not openly hostile. What set me off, however, was the lines of green energy that crisscrossed amongst them, weaving a web around Hasda. The witches¡¯ look sent threads lancing towards us.


    I stepped forward and caught them all right before they impacted with my chest. Hasda couldn¡¯t see them, and from the confused noise Malia made I wasn¡¯t sure she could perceive them, either. But I wrapped them around my fist once, so the enchantresses couldn¡¯t withdraw them, and sent a burst of power into the silk. The threads crumbled to ash, the destruction racing down the lines like fuses, and ethereal flakes winked out as the energy dissipated.


    Whatever trance had ensnared Hasda immediately shattered. He blinked, coming to himself, and looked around in bewilderment. Three of the fae flocked to his side, cooing and murmuring reassurances while the other five or so slid to their feet and glided towards us. The leaves of their coverings fluttered as they spread out, coming at us in an arc. Although they¡¯d kept the antagonism from their faces, their demeanors had certainly changed.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    ¡°A Skeleton and a Snake, in our sacred forest?¡± the left-most one asked.


    ¡°Could they be lost?¡± asked another.


    The middle one shook her head. ¡°Certainly not. The pup carries their scent.¡±


    ¡°His parents, then?¡± said the fourth.


    ¡°In a manner of speaking,¡± answered the fifth. She was the first to show actual emotion, a disgusted sneer. ¡°They reek of the divine.¡±


    Malia snapped her wings and tried to scowl, but winced when she split fresh cracks in her dried face. I shoved my worry that she wasn¡¯t healing quickly into the background. Deal with the immediate threat first.


    Angling myself back in front of Malia, I stared down the sorceresses with my hollow eye sockets. ¡°I¡¯m afraid, ladies, that whoever promised these woods to you as a holy grove had no authority to do so. If you¡¯ve the time, we could sit and negotiate your stay so that you¡¯re not trespassing on the territory of our pantheon.¡±


    Hissing, Malia pressed into my shoulder but had the decency not to fling my arm away.


    The witches ignored her, keeping their gaze steady on me. ¡°Your forest?¡± they said together.


    ¡°These trees are ours.¡±


    ¡°Those that wander in them, ours.¡±


    ¡°The earth, the air, the birds, the leaves¡ªours.¡±


    ¡°These undercurrents of magic, ours.¡±


    ¡°In short: ours.¡±


    They took turns chorusing their answer, and I didn¡¯t bother to track who said what. They went on for a couple minutes repeating variations of their claims while the trio behind them stroked Hasda¡¯s face and lulled him with harmless questions and soft promises. The ground swirled with magic as the forest responded, soft breezes that whispered of quiet peace as it washed around the witches¡¯ ankles. It was soothing, really.


    But it was no more than mortal conjurings, and I brushed it off with ease. ¡°That¡¯s very nice, but why don¡¯t we¡ª¡±


    I gasped as I blinked, and the scene changed. Gone were the youthful women, replaced by banshees swaying from unseen strings. The clearing went dark blue, a purple underglow highlighting the shadows. The witches themselves were light, pale blue things, flimsy as paper. Their nuptial gowns waved like derelict flags on their incorporeal frames, and just as I noticed the violet fog tumbling from where their legs should be, reality snapped back, all bright and cheery.


    Malia pinched my arm just above my elbow. ¡°You need to stop making that sound. It¡¯s unnerving.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I muttered. So another vision that only I could see. And while the disclosure of these enchantresses¡¯ darker side was a wholly unsurprising revelation, it hadn¡¯t been one of their own choosing. What on earth was going on? ¡°Was I out long?¡±


    ¡°Out?¡± She tightened her grip on my arm and slid next to me, doing her best to glare at the fae despite her eyes watering in pain. ¡°You slumped a little and started moaning. Did they do something to you?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Not them.¡±


    ¡°Another thing to talk about later?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    One of the three enchantresses uncurled from her crouch next to Hasda and glided over to the five arrayed against us. ¡°It appears these wanderers claim the status of caretakers of the hydra, and have business with him.¡±


    ¡°Better business than those who came before?¡± one witch asked.


    ¡°Most assuredly.¡± The newcomer took her place on the right side of the middle sorceress. ¡°Perhaps even beneficial to all.¡±


    ¡°That is a tall claim,¡± said the far right one. ¡°But if it can be backed up...¡±


    ¡°Of course it can,¡± Malia snapped. ¡°The hydra is ours. We¡¯ve merely come to discuss some business with him.¡± She frowned. ¡°And would you please organize yourselves better? Not all this scattered jabbering.¡±


    ¡°We would be delighted to honor your request,¡± the six said in unison. Smiling, they folded their hands and bowed at the waist. ¡°The Sisters Serynis greet you, and welcome you to our humble forest. Come, let us lead you to the hydra.¡± They turned on their heels, in sync, and returned to Hasda and the remaining pair of witches. As they helped him to his feet, they hummed a wordless tune that harmonized in a peaceful yet haunting way. Its notes crept like a hare through the underbrush, promises of a pursuing fox dancing among the chords.


    Malia shivered and clung to my arm as we followed them into the glade. I couldn¡¯t sense any more threads, and I didn¡¯t see any signs of that strange purple smoke I¡¯d seen in the last vision, despite watching the Sisters¡¯ bare feet turn the earth. While I half-expected them to drop the charade at any moment, they simply turned and waited for us with subdued smiles.


    ¡°How¡¯s the face?¡± I whispered. Hasda leaned against one of the witches, rubbing his face. He looked disoriented and not fully awake.


    ¡°What, am I not pretty enough for you?¡± She flashed a smile and ignored my grunt. ¡°I¡¯m having trouble focusing my vision. Your eyes okay?¡±


    My lips formed a thin line. ¡°For now.¡±


    She huffed a laugh. ¡°Ah, the blind stumbling along blindly together.¡± With a sweep of her hand, she gave the witches a fang-filled smile. ¡°Lead on, Sisters dear. We¡¯ve an appointment to keep.¡±


    If the enchantresses picked up on Malia¡¯s sarcasm, they didn¡¯t show it. More smiles, smudges on their barely emotive faces, and they gestured for us to follow as they led Hasda by the hand deeper into the forest.


    I shook my head. Spiders and flies, and all that. There was no way this was going to end pretty.

 Chapter 61: "The Oracle"

    We didn¡¯t make it far before the visions started up again. Not only was I seeing ghastly specters instead of flowery witches, up ahead was a strange monstrosity that refused to solidify. It was something massive, fanged, and hostile, radiating an unfriendly aura that stank of elder sorcery. Add to that its singular, stocky, very-much-not-a-hydra head, and this Trial was a recipe for disaster.


    Malia pulled me aside after my third dip in the realm of phantasie. ¡°What¡¯s gotten into you?¡±


    ¡°Would that I knew.¡± I kept one eye on the troupe with Hasda and tried to keep the growl out of my voice. I wasn¡¯t cranky at Malia, but I certainly wasn¡¯t happy.


    ¡°Hey.¡± She gripped my shoulder and gave me a look. ¡°You go back to Nebesa and see Phemonoe. I¡¯ll handle this.¡±


    ¡°Now?¡± Fighting the urge to chase after the enchantresses, I settled for folding my arms. ¡°And leave you here? With an unknown barrier creating unspecified interference in our ability to communicate and exercise our powers.¡±


    Her grin was smug. ¡°I can handle the children.¡±


    I huffed. ¡°Fine. But I¡¯m coming straight back.¡±


    ¡°Only if she says you can.¡± She kissed my chin and slipped out from behind the tree. ¡°And no skimping on any healing she tells you.¡±


    ¡°How will you know?¡±


    She smiled back at me under her wing.


    I growled. ¡°Yeah, yeah, you and your ways.¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm. Now get your wrinkly butt moving.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that wrinkly anymore,¡± I grumbled as I trudged back towards the shoreline.


    Despite the effort it took to chase down Hasda and the witches earlier, it was almost no time at all before I¡¯d reached the forest edge and stumbled onto the rocky beach. Although I didn¡¯t smell any sorcery at work, there had to have been something affecting the terrain for me to depart so quickly. But I could feel the tug of my bond with Malia, even though I must have crossed the boundary on my way out. Scowling, I traced the outline of my portal. If Malia had noticed the edge of the ward, or whatever was obstructing the maas, she hadn¡¯t said anything. I certainly hadn¡¯t, but then again, I¡¯d also been stumbling through these anomalous visions.


    The orange oval wobbled before it stabilized, sparks splattering the air. A milky white film veiled the opening for a moment, then faded. I frowned at the portal, tested it with my toe, and when my digit came away intact stepped all the way through. Although I didn¡¯t feel any strange sensations going through, the portal was clearly misbehaving because I came out on the marble stairs of the Oracle¡¯s temple instead of the flagstones of my maas.


    A half dozen steps led to tall columns that fronted the structure. Twin braziers guarded the door, heavy incense guttering from their bronze bowls. The sky of Maas Bierg shone a light blue, nearly cloudless. Behind me, my portal snapped shut with a portentous crack. I frowned. Never had it ever landed me anywhere but by my fountain, unless I willed it so. And I hadn¡¯t even subconsciously told it to shortcut the route. I¡¯d wanted to wash up in the fountain before meeting the Head Oracle, but here I was, dusted in forest dirt, burrs, and a few pine needles.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    A sigh of air sagged down the stairs. Shivers ghosted down my spine as the breeze washed over me. Ah, yes, more foreboding omens right before I consult the Oracle. Smashing. I hurried up the steps and into the temple before I let that train of thought run its course. No sense in worrying about potential auguries when I had real ones right at hand to age me a few more centuries. My joints grated in agreement as I creaked my way over the threshold.


    Inside felt like bathing in sunlight. The atmosphere was bright, the air warm, and the roiling fumes of incense ticklish but not quite sneeze-inducing. Maidens and attendants in breezy white robes glided about, towels draped across their arms. Swirling fog obscured their feet, adding to the illusion. Sparrows chattered in cages overhead or darted among the rafters, and potted plants with wide, ovaline leaves added splashes of greens and minty whites to the otherwise creamy interior of the temple.


    Filling the whole center of the room was a porcelain bath, like the water dish of a giant¡¯s guard dog. A woman stood at the edge of the pool, hands folded before me. Her back to me, she didn¡¯t turn as she addressed me, but subtle movements jangled the thin golden chains that adorned her robes and set her apart from the rest of the temple servants.


    ¡°The waters are troubled, Charax,¡± Phemonoe said. ¡°I can sense that something is wrong in Ibithia, but I cannot tell you what¡¯s wrong.¡±


    ¡°Something significant, I¡¯m afraid.¡± I trundled over and joined her by the pool. Rippling liquid, the color of water tainted with a splash of milk, sloshed around inside the bath. Normally, the fluid in the scrying pool was a chalkier gray, but since I had no experience in oracular duties, I didn¡¯t know what had gone wrong. Perhaps the effects of the block affecting the maas were interfering with Phemonoe¡¯s attempts to view the region. I waved away a priestess who offered me a steaming towel. ¡°I¡¯ve had a couple visions.¡±


    Phemonoe jerked, her eyes snapping to mine. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I was just as surprised as you are.¡± I gave her a brief summary of the dream and the visions that had assaulted me in the forest. As she listened, lines crept across her angular face, aging her in a way she usually hid. She shook her head as I finished.


    ¡°I wish I could be of more help,¡± she said, letting her gaze drop to the troubled waters. ¡°But you¡¯re the first god I¡¯ve ever heard of receiving visions from a higher plane.¡±


    ¡°Assuming that¡¯s what actually happened,¡± I said.


    Phemonoe rested her fingers on the blue-lined lip of the pool. ¡°From what you¡¯ve told me, you¡¯ve no reason to doubt that as anything but fact.¡± Eyes crinkling, she laughed softly. ¡°Much as you immortals like to forget it, I¡¯m still just a woman. My sight is a blessing, and I¡¯m grateful for the gifts you all have given to me.¡± She shook her head. ¡°But these past few years have been frustrating. I am blind here, Charax. The pool has never been more clouded.¡±


    My eyebrows scrunched together. ¡°The same as the Paedan interference in Aenea, or worse?¡±


    ¡°Much worse.¡± Her fingers clenched on the porcelain. ¡°I have tried¡ªoh, how I¡¯ve tried to see. But I can¡¯t.¡± She gritted her jaw. ¡°With the Paedens, it was like swirling mud, and I had only my hands to scoop it out. But this?¡± Her chains rattled as she shrugged. ¡°I might as well be trying to enter the world of a mirror.¡±


    I had an idea. ¡°Have any of the gods tried to help you?¡±


    ¡°How could they?¡± She gave me a sideways glance. ¡°You know most of them treat me like a weathered wine glass. They fear to jostle me even slightly, lest I shatter and they lose their scryer.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°You don¡¯t look that fragile to me.¡±


    That earned a tight-lipped smile. ¡°So, what did you have in mind?¡±


    ¡°Have you ever scried from the astral plane before?¡±


    ¡°Never.¡± Phemonoe slipped the tips of her fingers into the pool. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure how.¡±


    ¡°I could lift you up.¡± It was an untested theory, obviously, but it should work. We¡¯d brought Phemonoe, and every other High Oracle before her, up to Nebesa to give them the elevation they¡¯d need to scry heavenly things. Why couldn¡¯t a higher temporal altitude help her see the future of greater beings?


    As we talked through the particulars, her brow furrowed more and more as she considered it. Finally, she agreed it might work and called for her maidens to prepare the scrying pool. They spent several minutes pouring pitchers of mercury and powdered howlite into the pool, sprinkling pink minerals into the mix to dissolve the silvery metal. Phemonoe shrugged off her robes when they finished, her shoulders bare despite her peplos. Despite what I¡¯d said earlier, she did look frail this way. As if sensing my thoughts, she gave me a sharp smile.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get on with it.¡± She jabbed a finger at me. ¡°And don¡¯t you dare pull me down, unless I call for it.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°You¡¯re the Oracle.¡±


    Closing her eyes, she sighed and faced the pool. For a moment, she let her hands hover above the rippling waters, and then she wound them in circles as her fingers danced on an invisible harp. Subtle notes crept through the air, mixing with her soft incantation. When the waters finally sloshed in response, I placed my bony fingers on her shoulders and fed her a tiny bit of power.


    At first, nothing happened. Phemonoe continued her chant, the pool splashed rebelliously against its sides, and the waters remained murky. But then they surged upwards, dowsing us, and the Oracle¡¯s eyes began to glow white. She opened her mouth to say something and fainted.

 Chapter 62: "The Curtains"

    It was easy to catch her before she faceplanted in the pool since I already had a grip on her shoulders, but the sudden weight nearly pitched us both in anyways.


    She gasped as she came awake and turned on me. ¡°Why did you pull me out?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± I said. ¡°You passed out.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She tapped her chin. Nodding, she spun back around. ¡°That should do it. Send me back.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure¡ª¡±


    ¡°Talk after,¡± she said, her back stiffening.


    I sighed but resumed my former position and bled energy into her again. She jerked at my touch but said nothing. A moment later, and she¡¯d gone all glowy-eyed and moany again. She twitched beneath my fingers and her heart rate sped up, but I steeled myself. Despite her years in Nebesa, she was still a mortal, as she¡¯d so bluntly reminded me earlier. And this was her first foray into a realm that some gods struggled to traverse. It was probably frightening and disorienting for her, even with all the strange visions she¡¯d seen as an Oracle. But she was resilient. She¡¯d acclimate and orient herself and come back with something useful, if she could see anything.


    Her heart stopped.


    I gave her ten seconds before I reacted. With the way she¡¯d collapsed, at first I thought she¡¯d passed out again, but when I felt her heart stop I waited to see if her spirit drifted away from her body. Since it didn¡¯t, but remained firmly moored in the astral plane, I tapped into her veins and carefully nudged her heart back into motion. The last time I¡¯d had to do something like this was when I¡¯d still been the God of Death, except it¡¯d been this process in reverse.


    Even with my help, it still took her a solid minute to return to consciousness after her heart beat again. Whatever protest had been building died when she saw my face. ¡°Passed out again?¡± she asked.


    I shook my head. ¡°Nearly died.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She nodded. ¡°Not surprising, given how utterly inhospitable that plane is.¡± Shaking her head, she laughed softly. ¡°You gods can stand to travel through that?¡±


    ¡°How bad was it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Like bathing my eyes in boiling vinegar, a thousand needle pricks on my skin.¡± She rubbed her arms.


    I scowled. Tamiyat¡¯s influence extended this far? Distance in the astral plane warped in strange ways, but whatever relative to Nebesa was should have at least some manner of protection due to our pantheon¡¯s presence. My frown deepened. ¡°Did you see anything?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not,¡± she said, glancing back at the pool. Straightening, she clenched her fists. ¡°But I did get an inclination of malevolence from Tingid. While I¡¯d rather not try the astral plane again, I will see what lies east.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Thank you for your efforts. It¡¯s not usually such a wasteland above, but even so, the realm might not be able to support mortal life on its best days.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    She turned her back and held her hands over the scrying pool. ¡°You don¡¯t have to console me. Failure or not, I will execute my duties.¡±


    ¡°If you insist.¡± I patted her shoulder, this time without infusing her with power. ¡°If you make any breakthroughs, let me know.¡±


    Politely declining the steamed towels her attendants offered me on my way out, I strode through the fog of incense and made my way outside the temple. I paused, hand hanging in the air to draw my portal. If Tamiyat really had corrupted the astral plane around Nebesa, then perhaps she¡¯d discovered our heavenly abode and was setting up to move against us. At the very least, I ought to take stock of the realm¡¯s condition before returning to the Trial. With a tired sigh, I let myself fall backwards, shedding my skeleton for my starry projection.


    Phemonoe hadn¡¯t understated the hostility of the astral plane. Even in the body designed for such a space, I was still mildly uncomfortable. The gritty feeling wasn¡¯t quite needles, but it still grated against my consciousness. Unlike the intensity I¡¯d felt near Aenea, however, this causticness felt residual, like an inkblot dispersed in a cup of milk. No angry deities snatched at my ankles, nothing eldritch assaulted my mind, and not a hint remained of whatever had drawn Phemonoe¡¯s concern about the Tingid mountains. As an afterthought, I checked the webbing that connected the maas, but couldn¡¯t see anything that might be blocking our travels.


    Frustrated, I tipped forward to rejoin Malia. They¡¯d probably reached the hydra by now, if the witches hadn¡¯t caused too much trouble, and Hasda would be smooth talking his way into its nest any¡­


    What on earth?


    Nowhere in Nebesa was a garden like this. Slender trees, barely past the stage of being saplings, ringed a lawn full of grass half shaded in shadow. Upon closer inspection, it seemed as if the shadows were part of the very leaves, matching the contours of the blades as they bent in the breeze. A silvery pond flashed as its surface shifted, concentric rings growing from an unseen pebble that¡¯d shattered its waters. Seated on the opposite side of the pond was a woman so gaunt it was a wonder her bones didn¡¯t split her skin. Or, no, that wasn¡¯t right. I blinked, and she merely looked thin, her stringy hair as wispy as her dress. She smiled, and her clothes and hair filled in, the former golden and the latter the luster of plated copper.


    I took a step forward¡ªand gasped. My foot splashed into the pond, where before I hadn¡¯t even been near the water. My legs were too full, my hands thick and young again. It¡¯d been so long since I¡¯d felt vitality like this coursing through my body that for a moment I didn¡¯t even recognize the vigor of youth. And I had no idea why this was happening.


    ¡°You have questions,¡± the woman said, her voice soft.


    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Have we met before?¡±


    ¡°No, but I believe you¡¯ve met my sister.¡± Her smile was faint as her eyes searched mine. ¡°It¡¯s been ages since she last meddled in anything. Did she mark you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t quite follow.¡±


    ¡°I wonder what she sees in you.¡± She tilted her head, letting her hair veil half her face. ¡°What makes you special?¡±


    ¡°Who are you, again?¡± I folded my arms and resisted the urge to squirm. The last thing I needed was to shift my weight and find myself slamming into a tree from the uncalibrated movement of this space.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say.¡± Her breath puffed against her hair. ¡°Well, I can¡¯t see it, but she was always the one with the eye for these things.¡± Brushing her hands on her dress, she slid to her feet. ¡°Perhaps I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Charax!¡± Behind me, Phemonoe burst through the trees, her face flushed with excitement. ¡°I¡¯ve finally had a vision.¡± She trailed off as she realized that she wasn¡¯t on the steps of her temple.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t peek behind every curtain,¡± the woman said, frowning. As she flicked her hand, the sky fractured like shattered glass, and a shard of reality spiked towards the Oracle.


    ¡°No!¡± I reached out to stop it, and something pulsed. The broken pane shifted and impacted the ground next to Phemonoe, who paled and swayed unsteadily on her feet. Fire lanced my shoulder, like I¡¯d run into a pillar. I didn¡¯t quite catch the woman¡¯s reaction, but when I glanced at her she wore a wolfish smile that was at odds with her delicate features.


    The smile softened as soon as she noticed my attention. ¡°I must admit, that was absolutely marvelous. What pantheon are you from?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say.¡± I couldn¡¯t resist throwing her earlier words back at her.


    Eyes sparkling, she folded her hands together. ¡°Well, that was certainly something.¡± She sniffed. ¡°No elder gods among you? But someone quite close to it, I¡¯d wager.¡±


    My hackles rose. ¡°Just tell me what you want and get on with it. It¡¯s bad enough having one rogue entity running around in the background.¡±


    ¡°Then let me part the curtains.¡± Her eyes flashed.


    Phemonoe squealed as the ground swallowed her, leaving no trace that the Oracle had been there.


    The woman held a finger up before I even got my mouth open. ¡°She is unharmed. I¡¯ve simply returned her to whatever you call your celestial home.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Did you¡­elevate her?¡±


    ¡°She was having trouble with her scrying. We experimented.¡± I crossed my arms and stared at her. She still hadn¡¯t given away what her angle was, but she was able to sense far more than any divine being should be able to. Sampling the power of our pantheon just by smell, realizing Phemonoe had been to the astral plane without even touching her¡ªit was deeply unsettling. And I wasn¡¯t even sure this wasn¡¯t a dream. But if it was, that was a very realistic Oracle that had just waltzed into it. My dream, the divine slumberings of a god, which not even other deities could traipse across with ease. Despite my age and experience, I felt very much out of my depths.

 Chapter 63: "The Spinster"

    The woman floated around the pond, that knowing smile on her face. ¡°This is the first time your pantheon has taken a mortal two realms beyond her home?¡±


    I stumbled in the water as I tried to step back and found myself flung halfway across the width of the pond. ¡°Other pantheons have tried it?¡±


    ¡°Your kind must be young, for this to have been your first.¡± Her eyes sparkled as she assessed me. ¡°Stand up.¡±


    ¡°This water is rather comfortable.¡± I patted the rippling surface and flashed her my own predatory smile. Let her see how she liked it.


    ¡°You want answers, you¡¯ll do as I say. Stand up.¡±


    I broadened my grin. ¡°I don¡¯t remember asking any questions.¡±


    She scowled. ¡°I can tell you¡¯re pissing yourself. I¡¯ve only a measure of patience left for your childish antics. Now stand up.¡±


    Her last command stung a little, and not because I had an ego problem. Power laced her words, not enough to compel, but enough to hurt. And I still hadn¡¯t mastered the dimensions of this place, because when I got to my feet and floundered backwards, my spine smacked against a tree at the edge of the clearing. A proper tree, not those willowy saplings I¡¯d first seen.


    ¡°Good.¡± She nodded. ¡°Now that we¡¯re a bit more civilized, ask away.¡±


    I rubbed at my shoulder. ¡°Your manners suck, and I don¡¯t care how much¡ª¡±


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t a question.¡± She folded her hands and blinked once.


    ¡°Fine.¡± I pushed off the tree, slowly, and managed to stay standing by the trunk. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    A shade of a frown flitted across her face. ¡°Wrong question.¡±


    I scowled. ¡°What are you?¡±


    ¡°Closer.¡± Her eyes clouded, veiled by something. ¡°I¡¯m me, obviously. Try again.¡±


    My joints croaked as I shifted my weight. So I had some of my old, skeletal self beneath this youthful fa?ade. But this woman, she wore her mask skin-tight. She pranced about, proffering answers, yet taunted me at every question. Of course she was ancient, but she didn¡¯t radiate power like my dream stalker had. I frowned. That wasn¡¯t to say she couldn¡¯t, though. And if she really was the Sybil¡¯s sister, well. It was bad enough there was one of them running around. Just how big was their family?


    ¡°Fine.¡± She was obviously looking for a specific question to reveal her identity. And if she were a truly ancient being¡­ ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    Her eyes lit up. ¡°What a clever boy you are! I was beginning to have my doubts.¡± Laughing, she hid her smile behind her hand like a schoolgirl. ¡°Unfortunately, you don¡¯t have the constitution to survive hearing it.¡± Another giggle. ¡°My turn. Which way did my sister go, when she left you?¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question.¡± Folding my arms, I winced as my forearms slapped together a little too hard. I hid the grimace behind a scowl. ¡°Perhaps, ¡®What should I call you?¡¯ would be a better way of phrasing it.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Her eyes sparkled like crushed glass in an afternoon sun. ¡°What a melody in my ears. Thank you, young one, for such an astute inquiry.¡± Parted lips revealed teeth unsettling in their perfection. ¡°Time and tongues have forgotten our titles. Not that we¡¯d hold that against you. But¡±¡ªshe held up a finger¡ª¡°the closest surviving term would be ¡®Prime.¡¯¡±


    ¡°So are you more prime than your sister?¡±


    ¡°Sisters.¡± She hissed the word.


    ¡°Ah, yes, silly me.¡± I met her glare with my own bared-teeth grin. ¡°How could I ever have guessed that there¡¯d be more than one being capable of claiming such a preeminent title?¡±


    Screaming.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    The grass in this garden was soft. Its caress on my cheek was careful, loving. Strands of hair tickled my face as the Prime bent over me, the corners of her mouth quirked up in a satisfied smile. ¡°Is the ground rather comfortable as well?¡±


    I groaned and rolled away from her, nearly smashing my ear into a tree as I slid too far. Slowly, I got my knees under me without pitching over. ¡°What did you do?¡±


    ¡°I took my mask off.¡± Head tilted, she beamed at me, a far too cheery expression. ¡°Good thing you passed out before my face was completely revealed.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± I waved her overbearing comment away as I got to my feet. If she and Malia got into a pissing contest, I didn¡¯t know who would win, but everyone around them would lose because they¡¯d flood the world stacking their egos against each other. And despite finding out what she was, I still didn¡¯t have much useful information. ¡°Are you done toying with me or what? I have things to do.¡±


    ¡°I told you I only had so much patience,¡± she said, frowning. ¡°And I can¡¯t show you what¡¯s behind the curtains if you won¡¯t enter the room to look.¡±


    ¡°Ask the right questions, you mean.¡± I sighed. ¡°If you¡¯re really old enough for time to have passed you on so completely, then you¡¯ll have to forgive my not knowing the finer intricacies of your frame of reference.¡±


    ¡°Then start simple.¡± She turned her back on me and glided to the spot she¡¯d been sitting at when I first arrived.


    I watched her warily. ¡°You said ¡®sisters.¡¯ How many do you have, exactly?¡±


    ¡°Three.¡± Her eyes glowed, giving the impression of a cat watching from the shadows. It was a strange sensation, given the bright sunlight that bathed the garden. ¡°And, yes, the ¡®Sybil,¡¯ as you called her, is one of them.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s her motive?¡±


    The Prime rolled her eyes. ¡°I said simple questions, not stupid ones. I¡¯ve already told you I¡¯ve no idea, hence why we¡¯re conversing now.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain why you¡¯re here though.¡± I folded my arms and stared down her annoyed glower. ¡°Why are you trying to destroy her smoke and mirrors? Why help us? Especially if you don¡¯t even know who we are.¡±


    ¡°Another already-answered question.¡± She slid her feet through the grass, tugging blades through her toes. ¡°It¡¯s been¡­well, not even I remember how long it¡¯s been since my sister¡¯s taken it upon herself to do anything.¡± She pinched off a blade with her big toe and passed it to her hand. ¡°You did manage to stay my hand, however lightly I might have swung it, though.¡± Twisting the leaf around her fingers, her eyes took on a distant look.


    This was going nowhere. Opening my senses to the magic of the clearing, I felt for my portal, and immediately jerked back. The earth was nothing but magic, the whole realm an artificial construction that grew from a network of roots. And the trunk at the base of the roots was the Prime, sitting pretty and giving me a look like she knew what I¡¯d just discovered. I had a moment of feeling like a cornered animal before I turned the emotion off. It wouldn¡¯t do me any good to let my feelings cloud my judgement. When I opened my eyes, she was staring me down with the most annoyed look, her fingers pinching the air next to her ears.


    ¡°You think this whole event redundant. That my words, and even my person, have no purpose.¡± She snapped her fingers, and the air rippled. ¡°Well, everything happens for a reason, so I¡¯ll leave you to reason it out for yourself. But before we part, tell me. What gift did she give you?¡±


    A laugh slipped out at the sudden change. ¡°What makes you think she gave me anything?¡±


    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t have left you with nothing.¡± Her brow pinched as she frowned. ¡°There¡¯s no way she moved herself, only to leave you empty-handed.¡±


    ¡°If you call a vaguely foreboding prophecy something, then that¡¯s the extent of it.¡±


    The Prime massaged the wrinkly folds between her eyebrows. ¡°Of course. Fittingly dramatic.¡± She cocked an eye open. ¡°Metaphoric nonsense you¡¯ve yet to unravel, yes? Repeat it to me.¡±


    ¡°Forgive me for not particularly trusting a member of her family.¡± I flashed a smile as I planted my feet. No way did I need more layers of complication added to this already messy pile.


    She sighed in disgust. ¡°It¡¯s no doubt about your wretched tantrum with that other pantheon, but if you detest enlightenment, I won¡¯t force it upon you.¡± She wasn¡¯t looking, so she didn¡¯t see me flinch, or at least I hoped so. Still glaring at nothing in particular, she raised her hand. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you with a choice, then. The first, to return to your mistress and aid her against the coming assault.¡± She swept her hand, and an image of Malia, wings shrouding Hasda from the witches, shimmered into existence.


    ¡°That¡¯s my wife,¡± I said, a growl in my voice.


    ¡°I¡¯m not finished,¡± the Prime snapped. A flick of her hand, and Jade¡¯s mountain materialized, the goddess herself standing uncertainly in the mouth of her mine. Although the vision showed nothing that would cause her distress, I felt unease creep into my gut. The Prime gave me a wicked smile as she cracked her wrists. ¡°And, the third.¡± Fog seeped from her palms, colors bleeding into the cloud until I saw an aerial view of Palmyra. As with the view of Tingid, I didn¡¯t see anything immediately alarming, but the fact that the Prime had chosen these three specific locations had my hackles up.


    ¡°Those are destinations, not decisions,¡± I said. ¡°If you¡¯re quite finished ¡®parting the curtains,¡¯ I¡¯m rather eager to return to my wife.¡±


    When she squinted her eyes at me, her face changed. The shift was subtle, but the hint of her true power was enough to send shivers down my spine. Intellectually, I knew she was powerful, if she were on the same level as the Sybil, but she hadn¡¯t terrified me in that inarticulable way like her sister had. Until now, that is. She smiled at my fidgeting.


    ¡°Each of these places has merited the ire of both the elder goddess and the pantheon whose feathers you¡¯ve ruffled.¡± Although her eyes still flashed, they¡¯d shed the bone-chilling power of her previous gaze. ¡°One is the focus of the former, one of the latter, and one is pivotal to the three.¡±


    ¡°And because you¡¯re so enlightening, I have to work out which is which on my own.¡± I squeezed my arms to keep from betraying any more emotion. I had a really, really bad feeling that each of those locations was under attack, although I couldn¡¯t have said why other than the coincidence that the Prime had chosen each.


    She frowned. ¡°You really are an ass. Very well, I¡¯ll tell you plainly what you already should''ve known.¡± The pictures floated towards me, slowly converging. ¡°Malia leads your child into an ambush. She¡¯s already failed.¡±


    My heartrate spiked, but I said nothing. If she were trying to get a rise out of me, it wasn¡¯t going to work.


    ¡°In the mountains you call Tingin, the Sea Mother seeks her slumbering mate. She¡¯ll twist his Warden to her will and couch herself within her new Vessel.¡± Her smile was sickly sweet. ¡°Quite the entertaining route, that. Far too many mysteries would come to light, and not a few hearts crushed along the way.¡±


    Fog filled the forest, sweat beading on my skin. Images blurring, the overlapping edges of the clouds swirled together. I coughed as my body struggled to breathe around the breath I didn¡¯t realize I¡¯d held.


    ¡°And the third.¡± There was a finality to her voice that grated on my nerves. ¡°More than one deception conducted there, a dance of misdirection so well-executed that not a one stumbled upon the other.¡± She chuckled.  ¡°For a sea-faring people, are you truly so ignorant of its true significance? That¡¯s a port you can¡¯t afford to lose.¡± Folding her hands, she smiled, taunting me. ¡°So, pompous child, which shall you choose? The lady, the tiger, or the other?¡±

 Chapter 64: "The News"

    The clouds of images converged on my face and dispersed in a puff. Coughing, I waved away the dust. ¡°Thanks for the excess drama.¡±


    Her smile was unconvincing. ¡°That charming wit of yours will incense the wrong person someday.¡±


    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll try harder next time.¡± I pushed off the tree behind me without flying halfway across the clearing. Shaking my hands to steady myself as much to begin drawing energy for my portal, I said, ¡°Are you done? Or can I leave without you hijacking my portal again?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you picked up on that. My touch was subtle, but¡­¡± She blinked. ¡°You didn¡¯t know that was me.¡±


    ¡°Now I do.¡± I grinned as I ripped the air in front of me open. Orange sparks spewed everywhere, zipping across the garden like fireflies launched from slings. The milky film still covered the rend, but much more thinly than before, and holes spotted the membrane this time. It dissolved at my touch, opening onto the Ibithian forest. As I stepped through, I felt a breeze brush my back. I turned, and found the Prime standing right behind me, her lips downturned in displeasure.


    ¡°You¡¯re not even going to say goodbye?¡± She crossed her arms, her hands cupping her elbows. It was scary how nearly convincing her charade of being hurt was.


    I laughed and grabbed the flickering edges of my portal. ¡°Sorry, no time. I¡¯m late for an appointment.¡±


    ¡°The insolence of youth.¡± She sniffed. ¡°Well, perhaps you¡¯ll be more mannered during our next visit.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, but no thanks.¡± I tugged on my portal, but found it resisting my efforts. Frowning, I pulled harder. ¡°I¡¯ve had my fill of higher beings for a while. Wrestling just one is headache enough.¡±


    She smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes, and reached through to poke my forehead. ¡°At least pretend to be thinking with your heart, and not your dick.¡±


    I bared my teeth and strained at closing the rent. ¡°Shows what you know about love, you old spinster.¡±


    She jerked back as if slapped. Her hand flew to her face, covering her mouth, which hung open in shock. A cocktail of emotions flooded her eyes, which oscillated through a handful of colors before settling on green. Everywhere else, the color drained from her, until she looked like a faded rag contorted into human form.


    ¡°Spit on my help if you will,¡± she snapped. ¡°I¡¯ll enjoy the spectacle of you floundering among things far beyond your comprehension.¡±


    Snarling, she clenched her fist, and whatever tension had been keeping my portal open released. I nearly stumbled into the tree that stood where the rend had been. Pushing off its scraggly bark, I took stock of the forest around me and was surprised to sense Malia, Hasda, and the witches not too far off.


    Although darkness had descended on the forest, I could see the vague outline of Malia¡¯s wings through the trees. The heat of their dying fire, little more than embers, kept the chill of the night off them. Hasda lay on the ground next to the ashes, a little too close for my liking, and the witches lay in a wide circle around him. Malia stood erect, glaring down at all of them.


    She nearly took my head off when I crept into camp. I caught her tail with my once-again bony hand and kissed it. ¡°Stressed much?¡±


    ¡°This journey has been a disaster,¡± she hissed. Instead of snuggling up next to me, she turned and stared at the sleeping sorceresses. Her skin crackled, her face still not fully healed from the astral toxins Tamiyat had spewed. Malia ignored the fresh blood pooling on her flaky face. ¡°These stupid ass Serynis bitches have been leading us in circles for days now. Of course, they claim no such deception, but I can hear their whispered telepathy.¡±


    I rubbed her shoulder. ¡°You haven¡¯t slept, and your face still isn¡¯t healing.¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°I know.¡± Her fangs clicked together as she snapped her jaw in frustration. ¡°I¡¯ll need to soak in Maas Taeful to leech this out. Speaking of, what was that all about?¡± She jerked her head back.


    I shifted forward, tugging our Veils over us. Malia sagged, sighing as she settled against my chest. Grunting, I enveloped her in a hug. ¡°Do you want the bad news, the really bad news, or the maybe good news first?¡±


    ¡°The last one.¡± She huffed a laugh. ¡°So I can appropriately temper my pessimism.¡±


    I grimaced. ¡°Well, Phemonoe finally had a vision, but we were interrupted before she could tell me.¡±


    ¡°By whom?¡± Malia¡¯s brow crinkled, and she winced at the fresh splits.


    ¡°That¡¯s part of the really bad news.¡±


    She lightly elbowed me. ¡°Fine. Not so bad news, then.¡±


    ¡°If my source is to be trusted, Tamiyat is targeting Jade as her new proxy, and she¡¯s on her way to Tingid now.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re starting to scare me.¡± Malia shivered and nestled closer, angling her wings under my arms. ¡°All right, what¡¯s the worst news?¡±


    ¡°Dream lady has a sister.¡±


    Malia jerked, twisting back to look at me. ¡°No.¡±


    Reluctantly, I nodded. ¡°I just met her.¡±


    ¡°Did she have any convoluted prophecies?¡± Malia¡¯s brow pinched, a trickle of crimson ichor running down her nose.


    I brushed the blood away with my thumb. ¡°Prophecy doesn¡¯t really seem like her style. She did, however, highlight three separate regions as places of interest before I left.¡±


    Sighing, I retold Malia everything that had happened in the strange garden, as well as the various visions I¡¯d experienced in the forest before I went to Phemonoe¡¯s temple. She looked just as happy as I¡¯d felt about the portals being contaminated and malfunctioning, but she didn¡¯t say anything until I got to the part about my experiment with the Oracle and the astral plane.


    ¡°Did you check her aura before you left?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°She didn¡¯t exactly choose her exit strategy, and I was¡­preoccupied about this ambush that supposedly blindsided you.¡±


    ¡°You know me better than that.¡± Her face was frowning, but she wasn¡¯t that offended. ¡°I suppose I can drop in on her on my way to the springs.¡±


    ¡°Are you thinking that her visit to the astral plane had some kind of permanent effect on her?¡±


    Snakes dancing, Malia bobbed her head. ¡°Almost certainly, if we¡¯ve both had the thought.¡± She frowned suddenly. ¡°You should be more careful with our High Oracle.¡±


    I shivered against the chill creeping in under our Veil. ¡°Why? She wants to be treated with more respect than ¡®looking too hard will make her shatter.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Oracles are very hard to replace,¡± she said.


    ¡°Oh, and Hasda¡¯s not?¡±


    ¡°Not anymore, no.¡±


    I scowled and folded my arms. ¡°That¡¯s not what you said before.¡±


    ¡°That was before he completed his first Trial, dear.¡± She tossed her snakes, her eyes challenging. ¡°He¡¯s made himself a little more scarce than being simply another mortal.¡±


    I went to raise an eyebrow, then realized I was all bone again and settled for a tilted head. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    She blinked, then punched my arm. ¡°You suck.¡±


    ¡°Getting attached isn¡¯t a bad thing,¡± I said, grinning.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just that.¡± Pouting, she looked away. Her snakes wriggled, tongues darting in and out around her face. After a moment, she said, ¡°I could say that his involvement with a minor deity also changes the dynamic, but that¡¯s a flimsy excuse at best.¡± Her eyes flickered with an emotion I¡¯d never seen in them before. Were those tears? ¡°I still don¡¯t trust Jade, but Hasda seems happy with her.¡± She gave me a fang-filled smile. ¡°And yes, I¡¯m crying. My face hurts, thank you for asking.¡±


    I grunted. Well, that was progress, at least. Hasda wasn¡¯t out the metaphorical woods, though. Malia had shown signs of attachment to previous champions that she¡¯d discarded the moment they couldn¡¯t fulfill their intended role. But Hasda was mine, too. Even if Malia bailed on him as her champion, I would still support him.


    She nudged me with a wing and curled closer. ¡°I hope you¡¯re ready for some bad news with the good.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I tucked my arms around her.


    ¡°Do you sense Kydon?¡±


    Frowning, I cast my senses outward. Nothing registered past Hasda and the sorceresses, who were doing a passable job at feigning sleep. That was strange. As the Arbiter, Kydon should have been here by now to supervise the Trial. His failing to tag along during the voyage was standard for him, since he liked to show up unannounced to get the most ¡°objective¡± viewing experience, but he¡¯d usually arrive within a short window after the champion had been delivered to the location. Observing from the shadows just wasn¡¯t his thing, and if he were going to disqualify Hasda, he¡¯d make sure we were well aware. And nothing would impede him from adjudicating a Trial. So then where was he?


    ¡°I¡¯ve no idea, either.¡± She sighed. ¡°As much of an ass as he is, that man would move Nebesa itself to fulfill his duties. And it can¡¯t be this blasted enchantment keeping him at bay, because he¡¯d sniff out its underpinnings and dismantle it in a day if he thought it was obstructing his Office.¡± She shook her head. ¡°He¡¯s only gotten more obstinate about these things since you left.¡±


    ¡°While I was back, I didn¡¯t see any sign of him, but I wasn¡¯t looking. Maybe¡ª¡±


    We both froze as something cold slithered across us on the wind. Whispered words, just out of range of hearing. Malia nodded at my unasked question and squeezed my arm. As we separated, the words returned, running like ice water across our arms and licking our elbows. I shivered at the sensation.


    Feed¡­feeeeeeed¡­.feed on the flesh¡­


    Disentangling her Veil from mine and wrapping it about herself, Malia went left as I went right. The words drifted up the register, toying with my ears, before dropping back down to nigh inaudible. And then the witches stirred.

 Chapter 65: "The Pounce"

    Dropping all pretense of being friendly, the Sisters rose like ghouls and crept towards Hasda. They¡¯d shed their youthful, vine-wrapped images as well, their bodies skeletal, skin barely clinging to their frames. Fang-filled mouths watered as they slinked towards our sleeping boy.


    Malia and I threw off our Veils and pounced.


    Instantly the whispering ceased. The witches also changed, their bodies immediately returning to their former vibrancy, and they twitched smiles at us.


    ¡°Pleased are we that you¡¯ve returned,¡± one said.


    ¡°We feared for your safety, disappearing like that,¡± said another.


    ¡°Those who came before fell to a nasty fate,¡± a third said. ¡°But we are¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough,¡± I snapped. ¡°Get away from Hasda. Now.¡±


    They flinched at my words but crouched towards, not away from, Hasda.


    Malia held a dagger to the throat of the sorceress furthest away from me. None of the witches had heard her come, and the captured one kept herself surprisingly composed when she realized her position.


    ¡°We¡¯ve seen your true faces,¡± she whispered in the witch¡¯s ear, although the words carried to the rest. ¡°This one¡¯s ours, so back off.¡±


    ¡°We only wish to help,¡± they said collectively. Their response was in sync, and it was slightly chilling.


    Malia snapped her eyes to me, and I dipped my head just a bit. If they were harmonizing that closely, then their collective bond was a threat, and we had to treat them as such. Tightening the grip on her knife, Malia bared her fangs at the witches. ¡°Bullshit. What do you want from Hasda?¡±


    They swallowed hard and glanced at each other. ¡°We¡ª¡±


    Once again they were interrupted, but this time not by us. A terrifying crack shook the forest and the sky changed to a sickly green. Miasma filled the air, and the earth tilted. For a moment, I thought another vision had swallowed me, but Malia had drawn her Warbow and nocked an arrow as soon as she recovered from the undulating earth. But the sudden disappearance of the witches and Hasda both added a surreality to the situation that wasn¡¯t easily dismissed.


    From the shadows emerged a hooded, muscular man with a grin that matched the fish mouth swallowing his head. The cherry-pale lips covered his eyes and the bridge of his nose, the fish itself curling over his head like a skull cap, scarlet scales billowing in a cape behind him. Not a muscle on him didn¡¯t bulge with veins, as if he¡¯d spent his life hauling boulders. The golden holed coin that dangled from a crimson thread bobbed from one side of his chest to the other as he walked forward, barely bending the skin as it bounced. Though wingless, his scent reminded me of Oannes, the first Apkalla we¡¯d defeated, and this man carried himself with an arrogance to match his predecessor.


    ¡°I¡¯m not in the mood for illusions,¡± Malia snapped, sighting down the shaft. ¡°State your business and get out.¡±


    ¡°What a fortunate occurrence this is.¡± The man¡¯s smile broadened as he clasped his beefy hands together. ¡°Two foreign gods stumbling through my forest. Marudak has blessed me indeed.¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°You¡¯re not the first to erroneously claim these woods.¡± Malia strained at the bowstring, which she¡¯d fully drawn. ¡°Where¡¯s your master? We need to tell him his dog slipped its leash again.¡±


    ¡°I should sing the praises of whomever delivered you in such a state to me.¡± He added teeth to his grin, yellowed pointed things that needed a dentist¡¯s attention. Hands now spread, he looked absolutely enraptured. ¡°Oannes left ample description of his desecrators, once he¡¯d recovered enough to speak, and I¡¯d feared to find you more fit than when he first encountered you. But, look!¡± He pointed to Malia. ¡°A worm¡¯s face, full of dirt she cannot shake. And her fellow¡¯s frame so far fallen in disrepair that I¡¯d have thought she disinterred his grave. What bliss!¡±


    Yeah, not much of this Apkalla was going to survive this fight, either. I cracked my knuckles as I slid away from Malia. ¡°And did he also tell you how badly we thrashed him, or was his ¡®general state of disrepair¡¯ self-explanatory?¡±


    ¡°We are not so full of pride as to not learn from our mistakes.¡± The Apkalla turned his sickly sweet smile on me. ¡°This time, I did not come alone.¡±


    Trees groaned and snapped as a divine beast slammed into the earth next to him. Leaves, scattered by its sudden arrival, dissolved in the swirling miasma. Although it resembled a mongoose, it had an extra set of front legs behind the first. Its long body was covered in umber fur that was hardened with some kind of excrement, which made the creature resemble a cucumber-shaped nettle. Its eyes, twin crimson orbs, glared at us with pure malice, and it bared stubby teeth as it snarled.


    I summoned my Sword in my off hand as I stared it down. ¡°Now isn¡¯t that adorable?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been talking about getting Hasda another pet,¡± Malia said. Her shoulders trembled slightly, but she kept the Bow taut. ¡°Think he¡¯d like it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure he would,¡± I said. What leaves hadn¡¯t dissolved crunched underfoot as I made noise to draw and hold the mongoose¡¯s attention. Yet as it swung its head towards me, I felt a tingle on the side of my neck that warned me I was missing something. I frowned, scanning between the sacred beast and the Apkalla.


    ¡°Mock if you must,¡± the Apkalla said, its blubbery lips bouncing as it articulated its words. ¡°But [name] will come to demand your respect.¡± He jerked to the side as Malia¡¯s arrow took him in the shoulder. The feathers trembled from the end of the shaft, the arrowhead fully embedded above his armpit.


    ¡°Know your place.¡± Malia stared down her nose at the writhing Apkalla. ¡°Honestly, you need to double Oannes¡¯ level before even thinking about¡ª¡±


    I lunged as the mongoose struck. High-pitched squeals pierced the air as its claws knifed across my blade. Malia had another two arrows bouncing off its reinforced hide before it had completed its pounce. Its matted hair, however, doubled as armor, deflecting the bolts with ease.


    And those extra forelegs were quite the nuisance. While one pair struggled to wrest my Sword away, the other swiped at my ribs, pocking the exposed bones. I¡¯d endured worse than this weathering storms ages ago, but it still required extra effort on my part to keep my footing while the beast threw its full weight on me.


    The Apkalla gripped the arrow and yanked, ripping a chunk out in the process. Growling, he snapped the shaft and flung it away. ¡°Not for naught was I named second among the Apkalla. And you will fear our lord.¡±


    Malia flicked an arrow his way before returning to her barrage at the mongoose¡¯s head. ¡°The adults are busy, child.¡±


    It missed his eye, but only just. He clenched his fists and stomped over like a brute. ¡°You are a woman. How dare you raise your hand against me!¡±


    ¡°Peace, Meduga.¡± A withered corpse shambled into view as Malia flipped off the Apkalla. ¡°You¡¯ve embarrassed yourself quite enough.¡±


    Malia and I shared a glance. The mongoose, for its part, went right on snapping and drooling inches from my face. Ignoring the beast and us, the tanned, leathery cadaver made his way towards the Apkalla. Who the heck was this wrinkly old mess?


    ¡°But¡ª¡± the Apkalla began.


    The corpse shook his head. ¡°She scarcely casts her eyes your way and treads you underfoot. You would do well to support the claims you make.¡±


    ¡°Forgive my ignorance, Steward Nergal, but which claims?¡± Meduga shifted uncomfortably as the corpse neared him.


    Nergal set a hairy, withered hand on his uninjured shoulder. ¡°Why, that we have learned from our first encounter.¡± He squeezed, and the Apkalla winced. ¡°You are the second-most among Marudak¡¯s Sages, it is true, and yet your better narrowly survived against these two. It was only their mercy that allowed him to return to us at all.¡±


    I twisted and pinned the mongoose beneath me. ¡°Your surprisingly honest praise is all well and good, but could you call your rat off?¡±


    ¡°That bow is truly marvelous.¡± Nergal uncurled the fingers of his free hand in Malia¡¯s direction. ¡°Commendable craftsmanship.¡±


    ¡°Care to see it in action?¡± Malia swung the Warbow towards him.


    Still wriggling, the mongoose managed to get its teeth firmly on my ankle and nearly knocked me off balance. I pressed my sword down a little harder. ¡°Hey.¡±


    ¡°That toxin in your face is extra-celestial, yes?¡± Whatever sparkle was in those jaundiced eyes, I instantly hated it.


    ¡°Piss off.¡± Malia¡¯s grip on her bow tightened.


    ¡°I thought as much.¡± Nergal nodded and flexed his fingers. ¡°Let¡¯s see if it¡¯s too high for me, eh?¡± And then he clenched his fingers into a fist so fast every joint popped.


    Malia¡¯s shot went wide. Clutching at her face, she vanished her Warbow and thrashed on the ground, shrieking. Dark smoke vented from the cracks in her face.

 Chapter 66: "The Toxin"

    I flipped my Sword and impaled the mongoose, pinning it to the ground. Spear in hand, I rushed the walking corpse.


    Unfazed, Nergal smiled, his teeth now black and rotting. ¡°Thank you for mastering our mongoose. Perhaps you¡¯d be interested in training my servant to be a better handler?¡±


    ¡°What did you do to her?¡± I pushed my spearpoint against his throat, restraining myself only with the thought that he might actually let up on Malia if he didn¡¯t have a hand-width of steel embedded in his withered windpipe.


    He smiled, titling his head. ¡°Do you know who I am?¡±


    ¡°I could ask you the same thing.¡± My Spear creaked as I tightened my grip.


    ¡°I am the Agent of Death.¡± His grin only broadened as I pressed down on my Spear. ¡°Pestilence, paucity, poison¡ªif it kills, it belongs to me.¡±


    With a twist, I ripped the spearhead across his neck and swung the butt around, angling for his temple. He twisted back with deceptive speed, flinging a handful of dust at me. The powder puffed as it collided with my frame, but otherwise did nothing.


    Nergal shrugged when he saw me standing unharmed. ¡°One could hope.¡±


    ¡°What? You thought I, a literal skeleton, would keel over from some toxic fumes?¡± I¡¯d have laughed if Malia weren¡¯t still twisting in agony on the ground. Shifting my stance, I leveled my Spear. ¡°Release her. Now.¡±


    ¡°Meduga, if you¡¯d be so kind.¡± He flicked his hand, and the Apkalla jerked forward.


    ¡°Not you¡ª¡±


    A massive weight slammed into me from behind. Four sets of clawed paws dug into my back, teeth chomping on my exposed neck. I twisted, trying to throw the mongoose off, but it¡¯d found a solid position and I couldn¡¯t get any leverage.


    Nergal kneeled down to look me in my empty eye sockets. ¡°You know, I¡¯d heard better things about you. Crawling on your belly in the dirt doesn¡¯t fit your reputation.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m about two hairs away from making you eat shit.¡± My bones groaned as the stupid vermin tried to snap a rib.


    A frown split his face as he saw something outside my field of view. ¡°It would appear your consort is quite spirited.¡±


    Through our bond, I could feel a hint of the pain piercing Malia¡¯s face, but overwhelming that was a rage that dwarfed mine. Malia¡¯s ego had taken a blow, both by being brought low and caught off guard, and the Paeden thought his not-even-demigod underling would be able to handle her in her weakened state. A fatal underestimation.


    Malia roared as she surged from the ground. A dull thump, and something collided with the mongoose, which flattened me and would¡¯ve knocked my breath out if I¡¯d had any to lose. That something, a very disoriented Meduga, skipped across the ground, coming to a stop on Nergal¡¯s shins. The Apkalla¡¯s mouth gaped, his fish cape a tangled mess.


    Sharp pain, like heartburn, bloomed in my chest at the same time Malia screeched through gritted teeth. I twisted out from under the mongoose¡¯s tail and nearly gasped when I saw her. Every vein on her face was black, inky smoke pouring in waterfalls from her wounds and tear ducts. Her eyes were bloodshot, webbed with red and sickly purple lines. What worried me the most was the faint trace of darkness that slid down her throat, like a forgotten brushstroke. She looked half dead, and the unkempt feathers in her spread wings didn¡¯t do her any favors.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Her Warbow still worked though. In spite of her shaking shoulders, which sagged heavily with every breath, she had an arrow firmly trained on Nergal¡¯s face.


    Nergal huffed a laugh. ¡°I¡¯d be impressed if you were truly threatening.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, we all have our days.¡± Energy sparked as she split the arrow in three, pouring just a little bit of power into the arrowheads. Although she projected strength, her ragged breathing betrayed her. ¡°Let¡¯s make this quick.¡±


    ¡°If you insist.¡± Nergal chuckled as he got to his feet and slid away from me in one smooth motion. Cracking his knuckles, he jerked his head at the mongoose. ¡°Fulfill your mission.¡±


    Malia swung and let loose her arrows as the beast dashed away. Arcs of light, like shooting stars, chased its tail, but not even the empowered bolts penetrated its armored hide. Snarling, she drew another arrow¡ªand nearly collapsed as Nergal enflamed the toxins in her face.


    I was on my feet, charging the rotting warlock. My fist connected with his jaw, sending shockwaves across his rubbery face. From all the joint-popping he¡¯d done, I¡¯d expected him to be a bit more solid, but it was like slapping marsh water. He turned my next two blows aside and barely dodged the fourth.


    ¡°Marudak¡¯s blessing!¡± he shrieked as, Sword retrieved, I tried to bisect him along his waist. Dancing away, he contorted his hands through a complex  maneuver, he finished with a flourish and snapped his fingers. Noxious poison poured from his palms, as if his very skin were disintegrating. His spin took him in Malia¡¯s direction, and he cackled as he flung the banespowder at her.


    Power bloomed on my left. Gasping, the Apkalla kicked the ground a few times before rocketing to his feet. He practically glowed with the energy Marudak had poured into him, much like Oannes had when he¡¯d had his mini-ascension. I had just enough time to bring my Sword up before the fish-man slammed into me. Damn was he fast.


    Malia¡¯s cries became a mix of pain and anger as she clashed with Nergal. As much as I wanted to help her, it was all I could do to ward off Meduga¡¯s assault. The Apkalla finally had some weight behind his blows, and with his god¡¯s power he more than held his own against me. I settled into a rhythm, deflecting jabs, absorbing hooks and the odd kick, testing for openings when he faltered. If I¡¯d had my physical eyes, Meduga¡¯s scaly cloak would have been dazzling, but to my hollow eye sockets it simply glittered from the excess power leaking through the cracks.


    Huh.


    As Meduga threw another hook, I ducked and caught his elbow with the hilt of my Sword. Pulling him into me, I let his momentum carry him over my knee, sending him sprawling. The Apkalla tucked and rolled, coming to his feet with practiced ease. I switched from my Sword to my Spear to keep him at range. Hands spread, he circled around me, leering.


    My feet scrunched leaves as I spun with him. Shedding power through his cape meant that not only had Marudak fed him too much energy, but also that his cape was actually connected to him, a living extension and not just a fashion accessory. Meduga wasn¡¯t bleeding power like Lazuli had, but he was extremely inefficient at channeling it and couldn¡¯t use all of it. He¡¯d run out eventually.


    The Apkalla seemed to realize this as well because he slowed down and began lunging and making feints, trying to get around my Spear. I kept the spearhead pointed between us and blocked every attempt. When he wasn¡¯t rocketing around the forest, he was much easier to manage.


    ¡°Coward!¡± he snarled. His hands vibrated as he flexed his fingers. ¡°Stop running and fight.¡±


    ¡°Funny, your friend fled when I tried to battle him.¡± I flashed a grin. ¡°Where¡¯s his reprimand?¡±


    Meduga¡¯s nostrils flared. ¡°He deals with the greater threat.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m impressed.¡± I didn¡¯t have to fake the shock on my face. ¡°You actually complimented a woman.¡±


    ¡°That is not¡ª!¡± Furious, he launched himself at me without finishing his explanation.


    Our thrusts and parries became a dance. The more he tried and failed to get around my Spear, the angrier and sloppier he grew. But it didn¡¯t take long to realize that, as our fight went on, he wasn¡¯t flagging. The sparkling effluence of excess energy still shimmered from his cloak, which was a nice, clear indicator that Marudak hadn¡¯t stopped sharing his power with the Apkalla. Useful for him, annoying for me.


    The growls of Malia¡¯s fight with Nergal was background noise to my own. Although the Paeden¡¯s words to her were obviously condescending, they never solidified into intelligible speech to me. What spoke volumes, however, was when the heartburn of my pond chilled to a sliver of ice that needled my chest. The change was so sudden, Meduga nearly landed a blow, but I stumbled back and turned to watch Malia fish.


    She had her Warbow drawn again, the tail feathers of an arrow kissing her cheek. A thread of blood, glistening to spite the noxious fog falling from her cracked face, connected her face to the end of the bolt. When she released, the crimson cord chased after the arrow, spraying droplets as the thread unspooled from within her cheek.


    The blood-enfused quarrel penetrated the hazy miasma that surrounded Nergal and sank into his leathery skin. Red blossomed from the point of impact, tracing his veins as the blood permeated his channels. When it seemed firmly anchored, Malia clipped the thread from her face and shifted. Her jaw unhinged as her face expanded, the damage translated from her corporeal to astral visage. She screamed against the fresh pain and yanked on the blood tether. As Nergal stumbled, she struck, swallowing him whole.

 Chapter 67: The BIte

    That was a really bad idea.


    For one thing, gods don¡¯t just ¡°die.¡± It takes decades, even if they¡¯re slain in battle, dismembered, and the pieces scattered to the ends of the earth, for their consciousness to fade. Malia would be able to siphon a portion of Nergal¡¯s power from him, but it wouldn¡¯t kill him. But she was in no condition to be trying to consume foreign deities. Even at full strength, it¡¯d take Malia several dedicated years to digest a god down to their husk.


    It did serve as a sufficient distraction to break Meduga¡¯s rhythm, though, and he was far more mortal. Deflecting his lunge downwards, I rode his arm with my Sword and took his head off cleanly. The fish-scale robe and succeeding geyser of energy, not so much. With the Apkalla no longer present, Marudak¡¯s power sprayed everywhere, chasing the dark ichor that spurted from the headless stump. I kicked the body away, but blood still splattered me.


    If I hadn¡¯t been watching for it, I would¡¯ve missed Meduga¡¯s soul as it fled. A wispy thread, like a breath on a snowy day, fluttered around the suspended droplets of ichor. Recoiling from the blood, it twisted upwards, trying to mask its flight behind the concussive blasts of power. But without its God of Death to collect it, it had only its instincts to follow.


    I snatched its tail with my bony fingers, grunting as another wave reverberated through my skeleton. The spirit writhed like a fish as it fought to escape. Snorting, I sank my fingers into its ether and sucked it into my marrow. No way was I going to let it run home and tattle that they¡¯d lost yet another skirmish and one of their gods had been taken down. The mongoose was still loose, but we¡¯d deal with that in time. As the spirit slid through my bones, it chilled them, the familiar pang of a harvested death. I hadn¡¯t deposited a soul into Nebesa in centuries, so I¡¯d have to carry the Apkalla within me until we could hunt Thane down and pass it off to him.


    Malia was having a lovely time failing to digest her latest meal. Retching, she was doubled over, her elbows keeping her face out of the pool of bile. Another convulsion, and the slimy ball of leather that had been Nergal¡¯s avatar plopped into the puke puddle. Malia jerked up, hugging her stomach, before she belched a dry heave that flung the black exhaust of Nergal¡¯s spirit from her. Shivering, she scraped her tongue on her teeth and forced a look of disgust over the pain peeking out.


    I switched back to my Spear and leaned my weight on it as I walked over. ¡°Bit off more than you could chew?¡±


    ¡°Piss off.¡± Her wings curled around her as she continued to shiver.


    I grunted and slid down next to her. ¡°So, am I saying it, or are you?¡±


    ¡°If you think I¡¯m going to sit this one out because of a couple of scratches, you¡¯re sadly mistaken.¡± She continued to shake, the shudders nearly rattling my arm out of its socket. ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not fine, and you know it.¡± I vanished my Spear and turned her to face me. ¡°You can¡¯t gaze, you barely managed to tether him, and you¡¯d throw a fit and smash the first mirror you looked in if you could see yourself right now.¡±


    She huffed and grumbled for a bit longer but eventually conceded the point. Scowling, she snapped her portal open and slithered through. It vanished in a puff, leaving me alone to chase down Hasda and the witches.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    North. That was where they¡¯d headed, and where the hydra would be. As I trudged through the forest, I sighed in appreciation. Not only was the flora beautiful, the golds and greens of the tree leaves pleasantly contrasted against the tans and browns of the bark, but it was an enjoyable walk without whatever enchantment had been inhibiting us before. The earth was soft and forgiving on my tired bones, and the air in the shadow of the canopy was cool.


    But there was still no sign of Kydon. The longer he stayed absent, the worse I felt about this Trial. I was beginning to suspect he¡¯d already called it as lost or failed, but he hadn¡¯t had the decency to announce it yet. Even if he¡¯d made up his mind, he should at least see the Trial to its conclusion, and the fact that he hadn¡¯t meant we were in for a fiasco when the chips fell.


    That did raise an interesting thread, though. While our Arbiter was strangely absent, the Paedens¡¯ choice of divine beast was just as intriguing. Native to lands further east than Paedea, mongooses had a reputation as fierce guard animals, able to take on predators many times their size with their speed and shrewd intellect. This one had a hide thick enough to turn the weapons of gods, but what worried me the most was the breed¡¯s reputation for an unwavering immunity to venoms.


    Although the Ibithian hydra was draconic, it could spit a stream of toxins just as well as it could breathe fire. The latter might give the mongoose trouble, but if the hydra managed to pierce its coat with a bite, it would simply shrug the poisons off. And I had no idea how the creature¡¯s own bite would be, whether it relied on sheer strength or had some kind of hydra¡¯s bane of its own. The Ibithian hydra was an aged thing by now and, though by no accounts slow, still had a sluggishness to it simply because of its size that would disadvantage it against the more lithe mongoose. So I was hoping that Hasda would be able to handle both divine beasts, since it was unlikely he¡¯d have to fight the hydra at all, but I had a sinking feeling that the witches wouldn¡¯t be content to just watch from the sidelines.


    The change from peaceful timberland to marshy battlefield was sudden, the arrival of the cacophony a wet slap. With the mastery of forest magic the Serynis Sisters had displayed so far, it shouldn¡¯t have surprised me that they would create an auditory cocoon to isolate the sounds of them hunting their prey, but it did. All pretense of youthful sylvan sorceress shed, the hags circled Hasda. Their frustrated shrieks sailed across the swamp, competing with the snarls of the mongoose as it snipped and slashed at the submerged hydra. Roots and claws surged beneath the surface, vines rising to ensnare Hasda as scales flecked the spray, testament to the hydra¡¯s combat with the waterlogged mammal.


    Zephyrus¡¯ gift must have already been putting in good work, as Hasda¡¯s hair was soaked wet from where the witches must have tried to drown him. Sword out, Hasda stared them down as they circled him, but it was the purple glow from his arm and the mocking face of the djinn, floating just behind his shoulder, that kept the witches at bay. Hasda was poorly equipped to handle any kind of truly magical being, and while I wasn¡¯t sure what about the djinn gave the enchantresses pause, I was grateful for it.


    The roars of the hydra burbled from the murky waters, drawn-out wails of agony. Its ichor stained the water brown, mixing with the yellowed pond scum. Bloody froth foamed around the thrashing mongoose, held under by its death grip on a hydra head. From the surging water, the neck had to be ridiculously thick, something Hasda, Malia, and I holding hands could form a ring around. The swamp was unevenly deep as well, or there was some magic afoot, because I couldn¡¯t see the frill on the hydra¡¯s spine breaching the surface of the water despite Hasda being barely knee-deep in the marsh. But the mongoose wrestled with only one head, with no sign of the others.


    This Trial had well and truly gone to shit. And with no Kydon here to consult, I had no way of telling which of the threats I was allowed to attack without voiding the results. While the hydra was the crux of the Trial, Hasda had yet to engage with it, as far as I knew, and he couldn¡¯t recruit the beast if it were dead. He may not have even started the Trial, since the witches had hemmed him in, babbling about how they wanted to consume his flesh and devour his power.


    But Hasda was close enough to the location of the Trial proper that Kydon could argue that¡ª


    That son of a bitch.


    I let the cool rage of battle settle over me as I tightened my grip on my Sword. Kydon must have been spending too much time around Malia, if he thought he was going to manipulate the terms of the Trial to include the sorceresses as an obstacle to the Trial¡¯s completion. They hadn¡¯t even been a known variable when the Trial was set forth, and if they did count, that meant Kydon had been near enough to see me break their spell over Hasda, decide that was ¡®interference,¡¯ and leave, all without announcing his presence or the nullification of the event. I¡¯d beat the eternal shit out of him when I next saw him.


    But first, I had some cannibals to kill.

 Chapter 68: The Eggshell

    Old and bony though I was, I¡¯d taken down the nearest witch and moved onto the second before they noticed me. It probably didn¡¯t help that my Sword was aflame and hissing violently, but it certainly made beheading them easier. The second enchantress managed to raise her arms as the strike came, and her hands tumbled off with her head.


    As I rounded on the third, my senses nudged three facts to the edge of my thoughts. First, two of seven¡ªno, eight¡ªof the Sisters were down. That left three for me, and three for Hasda. Second, the djinn had extended his aura to Hasda¡¯s sword, mimicking the celestial fire engulfing mine. I¡¯d need to ask him about why his presence deterred the witches, and keep an eye on him learning any more tricks he probably shouldn¡¯t know. And third, the spirit lines connecting the remaining witches flared with every death, concentrating their power. Maybe killing all of them would be a bad¡ª


    Another headless body collapsed before me, and suddenly the Serynis aura felt very divine.


    Shit.


    Roots burst from the water beneath me, tangling around my legs, through the gaps in my bones, snapping as I thundered through them. I felled the fourth as she sought to bring a tree down on me and had my Sword in the throat of the fifth as the sundered log splashed the swampwater where I¡¯d been. Three more, only one still on Hasda, and they were quickly breaching the limit between demigod and deity.


    The last two had the sense to separate as I bisected the back of the one brave enough to keep its eyes on Hasda. Her breath huffed out, her eyes wide as she tried to turn and found no strength in her lower body. A backstroke, and she joined her fallen sisters in the marsh.


    Hasda held himself well despite the stained, stinking water I¡¯d splashed all over him. His eyes reflected none of the demented hunger I saw in the djinn¡¯s, which was good, but left me wondering how much control he still had over the spirit. Adjusting his stance, he smiled. ¡°Thanks for the help.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not out of it yet.¡± I kept my eyes on the witch to the left, feeling the heat of the second as she circled to flank us. Scowling, I swapped back to my Spear and shifted to put Hasda behind me. ¡°Can you get to the hydra?¡±


    ¡°We can try.¡± The dissonant undertones that laced his voice sent shivers down my spine. Without another word, he picked his way through the swamp, plashing all the way.


    I blocked out the snarls and yowls, adding Hasda¡¯s fierce cries to the list. Only two sorceresses left. The thread of their shared power hung taut in the air, a silver cable of animosity as thick as my fists. I couldn¡¯t cut it, and if I couldn¡¯t kill both at once, I might not be able to stop their ascension. My momentum had stalled, and now I had to play the fun game of catching the homicidal hags.


    They weren¡¯t going to go quietly, either. Maintaining a steady stream of howling, they raised a troop of viney sylvans, tree-bodied creatures with a vaguely human shape. Balls of leaves floated around their heads, fluttering gaps in the foliage standing in for eyes and mouths. Stringy swamp weeds, dripping dark water, clung to their shoulders and elbows as they emerged from the marsh. Wind rattled the wet leaves, and I realized the sylvans were screaming at me.


    Light pulsed along the connecting thread, and the witches changed, too. Since I¡¯d spun, the one on my left was now on my right, and she¡¯d taken on the most dramatic change. Her hair curled around her in a dramatic halo, waves twisting the strands in chaotic directions. Her body looked more human, although the skin was translucent enough to show the forest behind her without revealing any bones. It made her teeth stand out as she shrieked and was slightly unnerving.


    The other Serynis Sister, now on my left, had shriveled. Less glowy than her opposite, she hid her sullen face behind a veil of straight, dark hair that reminded me of a willow tree after a torrential downpour. Her frame was skeletal, accentuating her bony hands as she drew more sylvans to join the summoned throng. The vines that wrapped her body would have been revealing, if she¡¯d had anything worth showing. As it was, the valleys between her ribs were almost enough to raise my sympathy, discounting that she¡¯d just been trying to eat Hasda.


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    And I couldn¡¯t just ignore the sylvans. Before I¡¯d mowed down most of their coven, I would¡¯ve blown these little conjurants over like so many sticks in the wind. But now, they had some real spine to them, and I didn¡¯t like the itch they put on the back of my hands. They stank of loam, the kind that swallowed the dead and decaying corpses to dissolve them into the dirt. Almost an after-death.


    Which meant they were going to be a total pain in my ass. And my wrists, based on how easily they fell to my Spear thrusts. But there were a lot of them, and only one of me. Thrust, pull, aim, push. Over and over, as the little stickmen swarmed me, and I hadn¡¯t even dented their numbers.


    The witches cackled and summoned more.


    Sweeping them off their feet, crushing them, drowning them in the water¡ªnothing slowed them. The broken ones clawed on, and the unbroken clung worse than the swamp weeds swirling underfoot. I stamped away as best I could. With the viscous marsh, however, that was easier said than done.


    A wet crackling broke through my focus, followed by bits of speckled, sea-green eggshells floating on the water. When the hydra roared, I ran. The stupid sylvans fluttered their leaves in celebration right before a massive neck slammed down and crushed them. All around us, trees shrieked and splintered as the remaining hydra heads rose and smashed their bulk against the first.


    My sprint put me past the witches, who watched the thrashing hydra in confusion. They hadn¡¯t spotted the broken eggshells yet, and with the hydra rampaging there probably wouldn¡¯t be any remains for them to notice anyways. They had, however, floated closer together, and I nearly speared the willow-haired one before they split again.


    Damn it.


    That crushed egg was definitely the hydra¡¯s, which meant civil conversation was out of the question now. I wanted to check on Hasda because both he and the mongoose were submerged under all those writhing necks, but I had bigger concerns at the moment, like the fact that the witches¡¯ soul bond glowed like a bar of steel in Phaeus¡¯ forge. The bushy-haired one seemed to radiate the greater power, although my instincts didn¡¯t trust how quiet the willow-haired one was being.


    Under the water, the sylvans burst like overcooked berries as the Serynis Sisters lost control over them. Or flooded them with too much power. Either way, the sorceresses were dangerously close to deciding what their divine form would be. One body or two, it didn¡¯t matter to me. I needed to end this fight, quickly, before I let a fledgling goddess loose. We were in no position to recruit her, even if she were amiable, since I¡¯d most likely be bringing the heartbroken hydra in by force.


    They had other plans. The willow-haired witch wailed like a banshee. Dark bands raced across their bond as she fell and her sister rose. Shriveling, the black-haired enchantress curled under the water as her face paled. Her sister hovered with a triumphant glow, vines uncurling their leaves across her skin. With a final shriek, the bond collapsed, leaving no trace of the frailer witch.


    I leveled my spear at the remaining sorceress. ¡°Finally ate your own, did you?¡±


    The witch licked her fingers, flashing eggshell fragments she held pinched between her teeth.


    I tensed. Where did she get those?


    ¡°Mmm.¡± She purred and swallowed the chipped pieces. ¡°What tantalizing power.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not enough to push you past the boundary.¡± I slid forward, careful not to slosh.


    Her eyes, aglow with orange light, settled on me. ¡°We¡¯re so close. Would you help us?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d forfeit your freedom so easily?¡± Calculating the best angle for an underhanded thrust that might reach her¡ªthem?¡ªbefore they realized the danger made it hard to concentrate on the best way to angle them into verbal submission. And their use of the plural gave me pause, since if the witch I saw hadn¡¯t absorbed her partner, then there was a possibility she could still use the other as an avatar. Or they were co-forms of the same almost-deity. But they weren¡¯t divine yet, so there was still a chance I could kill them even if they started hopping their consciousness between bodies.


    ¡°Names hold power.¡± Her eyes danced with mischief. ¡°With whom would we be binding ourselves, were we to swear this bond?¡±


    Were they  seriously considering this? I shook my head. ¡°Not just me. You would be bound within our pantheon, a protected member of our family.¡±


    The drowned snarls and turbulent water made for a strange backdrop to an even stranger conversation.


    Closing her eyes, she inhaled the thick swamp air, ignoring the conflict behind her. When she opened them, the orange light had dimmed, but the sly look had not. ¡°We smell guile on you.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, the swamp isn¡¯t the best place for a bath.¡± A few more steps, and I¡¯d be in striking distance.


    ¡°What is your name?¡± They were totally drunk on power, the intoxication weighing heavily on their words.


    I gave them a thin smile. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t recognize it.¡±


    ¡°Try us.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± My spear flashed as I thrust.

 Chapter 69: The Sisters

    I missed.


    Oh, I landed the blow all right. But she had been paying closer attention than I gave her credit for, and she jerked back just in time so the spearhead merely caught her in the shoulder instead. She shrieked twisted like a skewered fish, yanking the shaft back and forth as she tried to free herself.


    Grunting, I pressed forward, angling her down towards the water. I couldn¡¯t get any leverage with her feet floating above the surface, though, and she wasn¡¯t doing me any favors. With an ear-piercing scream she pulled the Spear out.


    ¡°Fiend!¡± Her eyes glowed as fiercely as her wound bled. ¡°How dare you!¡±


    ¡°I dare.¡± Another thrust, although she was out of range down. I still had to try. ¡°We have enough rogue gods running amok.¡±


    Her teeth flashed, pointed and glistening with saliva. ¡°So we will rise.¡±


    Wet, hairy tendrils curled around my ankles. They yanked, nearly upending me face-first into the marsh, as she hissed in delight. I stumbled, blindly stabbing at whatever creature lurked beneath the water.


    ¡°These waters are ours.¡± The witch cackled. ¡°We claim them as our domain.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to¡­have to ascend first,¡± I grunted. Bony fingers wrapped around my exposed shin bones, burrowing into the ever-increasing strands of hair. I was nearly rooted in place merely by the weight, and the hairs threading my ankles together weren¡¯t helping the matter any.


    But the fingers betrayed the direction of the creature¡¯s head. With an effort, I twisted and plunged the Spear into the water. The head glanced off the black-haired witch¡¯s thick skull, grazing her ear as it embedded in the hollow behind her collarbone.


    Instinct made me vanish my Spear as I collapsed into the water. Although the fingers withdrew, the cords of hair did not, and I nearly lost both legs as the witch thrashed away from me. Her injury bled far less than her sister¡¯s, however. In a flash she was above me, pushing me deeper into the water as she glared at me with dead eyes.


    I laughed. ¡°Your merrow impression is very good. Unfortunately, I¡¯m a poor victim.¡±


    ¡°You mock us.¡± She bared a mouthful of fangs in my face. ¡°Yet here you lie, beneath the swamp, while we swim.¡±


    It took her far too long to realize we were sinking. My ribs and spine buried themselves in the muddy bed as I leadened my bones. Her hair was a rat¡¯s nest wended around my skeleton by now, anchoring her with me as much as it ensnared me. I let her panic as she realized she¡¯d trapped herself.


    ¡°You¡¯re in way over your head.¡± I gave her a skeletal smile and enjoyed the way she jerked, failing to flee. ¡°I¡¯ve been holding back. Come to my level. Achieve godhood. I¡¯d love to go all out.¡±


    Her fingers¡ªtalons now¡ªscythed between us, severing the strands that bound us together. In the most undignified way she swam to the surface, launching herself at her sister to get away from me. The bushy-haired sorceress recoiled herself when I unveiled a bit of my power. I hadn¡¯t been bluffing about holding back, but I wasn¡¯t as adapted to fighting in this environment as they were. Sloshing through the water, I stumbled towards them and exuded power.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Punching down could propel us up.¡± The witch hid behind the statement, shying away from me.


    ¡°We¡¯re past that point already. Best thing now is to put you down before you get too full of yourself.¡± I leaned heavily on my Spear as I closed the distance between us. Their aura swirled around them in a steadily rising rhythm, close to spilling over into godhood. If I found an opening, I could chop off the base and drain it all away. But the dark-haired enchantress darted underwater, diving this way and that in search of more hydra eggshells. I¡¯d have to pin the floating sorceress first, then worry about fishing the second out of the marsh.


    The bushy-haired one stared at me, wide-eyed, and raised her hands. Fronds of swamp weeds shivered in response, threading together to form stringy figures. Not quite sylvans¡ªtelmans?¡ªthe creatures moved in whip-like jerks that splashed small plumes of water. Living snares the telmans were, and I¡¯d had my share of entanglements for the day.


    A sweep of my Spear took the first rank down, a backstroke clearing the second just as easily. Still they rose, delaying my advance on the slowly retreating Serynis.


    Growling, I vanished my Spear and darted forward. Enough delays. I was ending this, now.


    Something big and fleshy slammed into me. Staticky power splashed over me, washing around the mass that pushed me under the water. Whatever power that was, it hadn¡¯t come from the thing that¡¯d collided with me, but I disliked it all the same. Sputtering, I struggled against the slippery, muddy bottom of the marsh. Then the weight lifted, and strong hands pulled me out.


    Hair dripping, Hasda held me up and gave me a concerned look. ¡°Sorry. You okay?¡±


    I glanced down at the floating mass, which turned out to be a portion of the hydra¡¯s neck. Quenching a shiver, I patted his shoulder. ¡°Yeah. You should take better care of that.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± He winced. ¡°I¡¯m trying¡ª¡±


    I shoved him aside as the above-water witch launched herself at his back. Clamping my bony fingers around her arms, I plunged her under the water and held her there. She fought, but couldn¡¯t dislodge my grip.


    ¡°Can you handle the mongoose?¡± I asked. The witch thrashed harder, nearly knocking me over. I winced as the djinn¡¯s purple aura shrouded him.


    ¡°Maybe.¡± He had a look in his eyes I didn¡¯t like. ¡°We have to, for her. It killed her young.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Do what you must. Just don¡¯t lose yourself in the process.¡±


    He blinked, and a little of that unnatural look cleared from his eyes. Sheepish, he turned to go back to the hydra. ¡°I will.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± The witch bucked harder than I¡¯d thought her capable. ¡°Will you¡ª¡±


    An aurora of power bloomed beneath the surface, scattering the swamp scum as the oily light dispersed.


    Damn it.


    I dragged her up and threw her halfway across the swamp. Hasda looked confused, but I shooed him away with barely a backwards glance. This was going to be a nasty shitfest, and he¡¯d be safer with the hydra. Relatively speaking.


    Her coppery hair, now drenched, curled around her head like a skullcap. A pulse of power surged through her, flinging her arms out and her head back. The aftershock dried her, her hair springing into frizzy contortions. Beams of light burst from her eyes as her bond with her sister blazed. Now as thin as spider silk, the silvery thread pinpointed the black-haired witch, hidden beneath the severed segment of the hydra.


    The little shit slithered out, streaks of blood ringing her mouth from where she¡¯d feasted on the hydra¡¯s flesh. Nothing I could¡¯ve done to stop that, but it was extremely unfortunate that she¡¯d found a new source of power. The fresh meat had more than enough divine essence to tip them past the point of demigod. And with that influx of essence, they crossed the boundary into divinity.


    Thanks to their ascension, the Serynis Sisters would have a brief period of unbridled power as they came into their own. They were an infant, unworshipped deity, though, and the worst that would happen was they¡¯d claim the Ibithian marshlands as their own and become a swamp bogey. But if they decided to roam, they¡¯d most likely sow chaos and destruction in their wake. And with the impending Paeden conflict, I really didn¡¯t want an unclaimed deity terrorizing our flank.


    Their bond was nothing like mine and Malia¡¯s, though. It quivered as the Sisters wrestled with their newfound power, tying their identities together into a single entity. They were still unsettled on their particular form, whether they would share an identity or be aspects of themselves. Apparently they hadn¡¯t discussed it beforehand, because I managed to skewer the bushy-haired one and pin the other beneath her while they squabbled and hissed.


    The copper-haired one looked almost vampiric as she snarled at me, her eyes bloodshot and angry. Trapped beneath her, her sister squirmed and pushed. It took a moment to register that the warm, rusty tongues dancing on her dark eyes were reflections of the jets of flame streaking above us.


    A blast knocked me off my feet. Amber fire dashed across the water, apple-sized fireballs skipping along the surface. Two more geysers of flames joined the first as the hydra reared its heads and boiled the marsh. In my skeletal form, I didn¡¯t much mind the heat, but the flames were blinding and the pressure nearly oppressive.


    When the flames cleared, ash fell like heavy snow. Trees all around me stood charred, their limbs stripped of bark. Wisps of steam fogged from the swamp, raising the stink of burnt wet foliage.


    The Serynis Sisters were gone.

 Chapter 70: The Chance

    Unfortunately, I could feel their aura rapidly receding as they fled. I hadn¡¯t really expected the hydra¡¯s fire breathing to end them that quickly, but I wouldn¡¯t have complained if it left them incapacitated for a bit. The self-preservation of the black-haired one must have won out against the combativeness of the other, though. Any god whose first reaction to getting speared was to crawl up the shaft and claw at their attacker wouldn¡¯t balk at a little fire spitting from a divine beast.


    That fire breathing had me worried, though. The Ibithian hydra had been protecting her brood. If she was spraying fire indiscriminately, that meant she felt she no longer had anything to protect. From the looks of it, the mongoose had been getting the better of her as well, even with Hasda¡¯s help.


    If the brood was gone and the hydra was going down, then perhaps it was time to step in. With the Paedens fielding derketo, and Tamiyat¡¯s forces most likely being comprised of sea-based creatures as well, we needed something with the aquatic force to match them. I wasn¡¯t exactly keen to find out if Hasda¡¯s djinn and my blessing were enough to fireproof him, either. So unless he could take out the mongoose before I did, I was calling the Trial.


    It wasn¡¯t hard to locate Hasda and the mongoose. Even without the vitriolic menace radiating from the beast and the chill that clouded Hasda¡¯s presence, it was hard to miss the throat-straining yowls of the mongoose as it snarled at Hasda. The lad, for his part, held his own with his sword against the claws and the teeth. But he wasn¡¯t subduing the beast, merely surviving.


    In brown blurs, the mongoose dashed between Hasda and the hydra. Four heads had replaced the fallen first, but the shadow-oozing wounds showed its lost head failing to regenerate. That was probably a side effect of whatever venom laced the mongoose¡¯s fangs. The serpent wasn¡¯t yet furious enough to disregard Hasda, careful not to crush or incinerate him as it fought the bounding mongoose, but only just. Spurts of fire crept closer to Hasda, flickering off his purple aura, and the collapsing necks crashed down with narrowing margins.


    That violet haze shrouding Hasda had my hackles up. It didn¡¯t seem to be hurting him, but it certainly didn¡¯t belong. I was positive it was the djinn¡¯s doing. While Hasda moved with superhuman speed, kicking up arcs of water as he dashed back and forth, the djinn was exacting some kind of price in the exchange. I knew half as much as I should about djinns, but any spirits with finite power didn¡¯t go lending them out for free. When it was just residing in his armor, whispering in his ear, I could trust Hasda and leave things be. But if it¡¯d started escaping its confines, cooperating with Hasda or no, then it was time to act.


    The djinn had the same idea. As I sloshed into the combat area, its eyes and mouth dimpled the haze behind Hasda¡¯s back, an anxious look on its not-face. ¡°Please, we¡¯re so close.¡±


    I stopped a few paces away, Sword in hand. ¡°Close to what?¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± It flicked its tongue over its misty lips as it followed my Sword point. ¡°It is hard to describe¡­¡±


    ¡°Try me.¡±


    It hissed in frustration as Hasda had to dodge a swipe from the mongoose. ¡°A union, if you will. Our spirits in sync, our limits exceeded.¡± Dark flames burned in the djinn¡¯s eyes. ¡°We can kill this beast.¡±


    Considering Hasda had prioritized saving the Kydonian tiger over slaying it or driving it off, this was purely the djinn talking. And talks of bonds beyond its binding to Hasda¡¯s armor was out of the question. I shook my head. ¡°You¡¯ve had your fun. I¡¯ve let this go on long enough, but I have an obligation to my pantheon, and to my son.¡±


    ¡°Dad, please. We can take this.¡± Suddenly it was Hasda facing me. Dried blood knotted the scattered scores on his face. Nothing too serious, but a bit roughed up and paler than I liked. His eyes burned, both with intensity and with the same dark fire the djinn displayed.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    But what disturbed me the most was the way the djinn ballooned from his back. Dark wings that looked leathery, despite their wispy composition, sprouted from its bony back. Thin arms snaked from its shoulders, talons like knitting needles dangling from its hands. The rams¡¯ horns curling from its head didn¡¯t diminish its demonic appearance any. Jagged fangs shed spittle as it snarled at the mongoose.


    I glanced at the djinn, then back at Hasda. ¡°You have one chance to explain why I shouldn¡¯t rip that cursed chestplate off you right now.¡±


    ¡°We need it to finish the Trial.¡± He grunted as the mongoose passed through the djinn and slammed into his back. Although he twisted and struck at it, the brown-furred beast was off and badgering the hydra again before Hasda hit the water. Spluttering, he regained his feet and glared at the brown blur. The djinn didn¡¯t manifest behind him.


    ¡°I hear one more royal pronoun out of you and I¡¯ll kill the djinn.¡± I sighed. ¡°Hasda, I want to hear from you. I don¡¯t trust it, so I need you, not ¡®we,¡¯ to give me one good reason why I should.¡±


    A torrent of fire bathed the trees to our left as the mongoose fled a hydra head. The light flickered unevenly on Hasda¡¯s face, highlighting how unhealthy he looked shrouded beneath the djinn¡¯s violet haze.


    His shoulders sagged as he watched the stream of fire chase the divine beast. The cloud cleared from his face, the dark fire fading from his eyes. ¡°That thing is a monster.¡± He had an edge to his voice, but this time, it was purely Hasda. His face tightened as the hydra¡¯s fire cut off, snuffed by the mongoose grappling its snout. ¡°It¡¯s not killing to survive, and it¡¯s not following orders. It thrilled knowing it had crushed another egg, and didn¡¯t give a damn about how precious that young life was. You said yourself that I should do whatever it takes.¡± His eyes found my hollow sockets, and there was steel in his voice. ¡°I¡¯m going to kill it.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡± I stepped back and folded my arms, vanishing my Sword. ¡°You have one hour. But we need that hydra. If you can¡¯t handle the mongoose, I will.¡±


    He jerked his head and splashed back to the fight. As the aura returned, the water firmed beneath his steps. Not enough to let him run across the surface, but enough that he wasn¡¯t plunging to his knees in the clinging swamp. The djinn¡¯s fire, mauve with a scarlet fringe, coated his sword anew as he dashed towards the brawling beasts.


    The hydra thrummed in response, two more serpentine heads rising from the murky water to join the four already enjoined in battle. It was a hard fight to defend. With the hydra¡¯s bulk, she struggled to lock down the small, agile predator, and her mass made matching the mongoose¡¯s speed impossible. Hasda, even with the djinn¡¯s help, couldn¡¯t keep up with the divine beast, and he had the added complication of scaling and dodging the hydra¡¯s neck while navigating the trees that hadn¡¯t yet been incinerated.


    The marsh kept the forest from burning down to smoldering stumps, but only as high as the waterline. Scattered fires burned in floating patches, boughs bared by fireballs that stripped them of their leaves. Pools of oil aflame floated across the swamp. Dark smoke mingled with the stench of the wetlands, making the air shimmer.


    Springing from the shadows of the hydra¡¯s thick neck, Hasda collided with the mongoose. He managed a glancing blow on its snout with his sword, and from the squeals it sounded like the beast¡¯s nose was one of the few unprotected places on its body. It whipped its tail into Hasda, knocking him away and creating space between them as it sought another angle at the hydra. Clash and chase, clash and chase, went the rhythm of the battle as Hasda and the hydra endeavored to down the mongoose.


    Something felt off about the hydra. As impressive as the heads were, serpentine skulls frilled with dark fronds, ivory eyes yellowed almost to amber, they didn¡¯t seem¡­imposing enough. True, they were massive, capping necks thick enough to make bundled trees look like sticks. But they should have been bigger for how old the hydra was. At least one neck should have been of the blot out the sun variety, its head a moon brought to earth. And yet, it wasn¡¯t here.


    Not that the hydra would lose its regenerative abilities if that aged head were slain¡ªit could regrow at least one to its full glory¡ªbut a head that big was hard to hide. Even with its divine powers, the hydra was still bound to the mortal plane. That was helpful for keeping random hydra heads or chimera tails from occupying the streets of Nebesa, but it didn¡¯t explain how the hydra was hiding so much mass. If each head had a proportional amount of power, then it was likely keeping that head in reserve. But where, I couldn¡¯t tell.


    As the battle drew on, the djinn¡¯s aura took on a pale, chalky-plum pallor. Every stumble that dunked Hasda in the marsh washed it a shade lighter, until all the purple had been nearly purged from the shroud. Nearly three-fourths through the allotted hour, and I could only sense that the djinn¡¯s misty power still surrounded Hasda. The only visual remainder was the way it warped the light of the hydra¡¯s fire.


    He slipped, and the mongoose pounced, plunging them both into the swamp. Bubbles from both burbled up, blood making the froth a nasty brown. The water surged as they thrashed. The sun had only a little farther to creep before the hour expired, and I muttered a mild curse at Ulti for taking their time dancing across the heavens. I was on the verge of acting before the limit was up when a concussive blast detonated beneath the water.

 Chapter 71: The Alpha

    I gritted my teeth as nasty energy blasted through me. The shockwave carried the stench of the swamp and the source of its power in its wake, giving me an unpleasant sensation of curdled sewage. With a strangled snarl, the mongoose shot out of the water. Hasda followed close behind, enveloped in an aura of plum-colored power. The djinn, whose name I could never remember, spread behind him like an unholy guardian angel.


    They moved in sync, Hasda and the djinn, tearing after the mongoose with inhuman speed. Flames so dark the violet was nearly black danced along his sword. With an almost conscious eagerness, the tongues of fire burned off the blade and reached towards the divine beast. It was unnatural, that flame rising out instead of up.


    The hydra wasn¡¯t dormant, either. Long after the explosion had faded, the water continued to roil. With the way the muddy bottom bucked beneath my feet, it was safe to say that it wasn¡¯t the hydra causing the chaos in the swamp water. At least, that¡¯s what I thought until the ground heaved and flung me nearly out of the marsh.


    Trees folded into each other like the needles on a pincushion being turned inside out. Roots shed lumpy mud as the earth rose, murky water spilling like drool. A row of spikes pushed through the swamp. At first, I thought they were trunks pared of bark and limbs, but then the ground kept rising and rising with them. The thick chord of the final hydra neck breached like a vein ripped from the earth. With a wet gurgle, the water rushed to fill the depression left by its departure, and the marsh settled into a much lower level.


    The neck dwarfed everything. Thicker twice by far as Seppo¡¯s ship, it ran the length of the marshlands and still went on. Chevrons of dirt slabs steepled, then collapsed, on both ends as the neck continued to ascend from the central bulge. The swamp must have softened the ground the neck had been buried under, because the lands outside the marsh cracked and groaned as the hydra forced her way out.


    To his credit, Hasda gave the imposing entrance no more than a passing glance as he wrestled with the mongoose. He¡¯d lost his sword somewhere along the way, but not before leaving a flaming gash in the creature¡¯s side. While Hasda grappled the mongoose¡¯s claws, the djinn harried its exposed wound, talons knifing at the opening. The creature twisted and writhed, but couldn¡¯t break Hasda¡¯s hold.


    As the ancient neck continued to rise, the battered younger hydra heads reared back, fanning out around Hasda and the mongoose. The first struck, sinking her teeth through the djinn into the gash and snatching the divine beast away from Hasda. With the mongoose separated from Hasda, the unoccupied hydra mouths spit streams of fire and venom at the first. Poison and flame washed harmlessly over their fellow, but the mongoose fared far worse. The breach in its fur let the toxins melt through its side, the fire cauterizing the wounds almost as quickly as they formed, trapping the venom inside.


    It wasn¡¯t long before the struggling mongoose fell limp. The hydra bashed the mongoose against one tree, then another, splintering trunks and shearing branches, but still the hydra wasn¡¯t satisfied. She shook the mongoose like a dog with a wet rat and dashed it against a mound of dirt raised by the rising neck. Snarling and hissing, the heads barraged it with a torrent of hydra fire intensified by a mother¡¯s rage. Black smoke belched from the corpse as the flames charred the once-hard hide.


    The death of the mongoose heralded the arrival of the hydra¡¯s oldest head. Nicks and scars marred her angular head, lime-hued scales filling in the cracks in the darker, forest green ones. Two ember eyes, glowing like dying stars, stared down at Hasda as the massive head descended.


    With the battle over, the djinn had receded into Hasda¡¯s armor. Streaks of blood faded as the violet fire vanished. His face looked deathly pale, although I couldn¡¯t tell if it was from blood loss or the sharp contrast between the shock of battle wearing off and the way his aura had shaded his features. Either way, Malia and I would be tearing the djinn a new one when we had Hasda safely back in Nebesa.


    The forest groaned as the eminent head settled before Hasda. White fumes trailed from its snout, almost transparent in comparison with the crematory smoke billowing off the mongoose¡¯s remains. Leaves whispered as the other hydra heads slithered beneath the canopy and disappeared into the swamp, leaving Hasda alone with the chief head.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Despite the disparity in size, Hasda smiled and rested his hand on the tip of the hydra¡¯s nose. He could have fit inside one nostril with room to spare, never mind how long it would have taken him to sprint the length of her snout. And yet he stood with a quiet assuredness that filled the gap in presence.


    She blinked and breathed out, her exhale tussling his hair and brushing away the grime. An avalanche of dirt spilled from the sides of her head into the swamp, muddying the water. Something passed between them, like a spark, but something greater, too. Not quite invisible, like the heat rising off a fire, but less obvious.


    They stayed in that trance for a breath, not moving as they stared. It wasn¡¯t a challenging gaze, but it was intense. Finally, the hydra blinked and opened her mouth. Her tongue pushed a handful of mucus-coated eggs, shells sky-blue and speckled, at Hasda¡¯s feet. Most were larger than his head, but the last two were melon-sized. Saliva stretched as the hydra withdrew her mouth. With a sigh, she settled onto the ground a few feet back and watched.


    Choosing his steps carefully, Hasda picked his way around the eggs. When he reached the smallest pair, he picked one up in each hand. They were almost too big for him to hold one-handed, but he managed it. He raised an eyebrow at the hydra.


    She blinked. The air shimmered again and then settled.


    He still looked uncertain, but he tilted his hands, knocking the eggs together. Normally, when struck together, the weaker eggshell would crack and the other would remain intact. No matter the egg, whatever the animal, the old chef¡¯s trick held true. But there must have been some magic at work because a thin line raced across the middle of both eggs after the collision. Hasda started in surprise, and even the hydra looked taken aback.


    A smile curled across her face as she gathered her remaining eggs into her mouth. Another shimmer distorted the air as Hasda bowed, eggs bobbing by his head. The hydra blew a gust of misty smoke over them and then withdrew, churning the ground as she burrowed her long neck back into the earth. Hasda righted from his bow and watched the hydra retire. When the last of her spines vanished into the crowd of the forest, Hasda walked over to me, an egg under each arm.


    I pulled on the forest magic and, after quickly scanning for any hidden threats, teased open my portal. Orange light reflected off Hasda¡¯s armor as he approached. His face was still pale, but he vibrated with an enthusiasm that belied his tired visage. He wasn¡¯t stumbling yet, but he looked exhausted. I ushered him through the portal and took one last look at the Ibithian marshlands. The hydra had vanished, and I couldn¡¯t sense the Serynis Sisters at all. That was a thread we¡¯d have to sever later, or wait and see how it played out. But I had my boy to attend to, as well as some questions that needed answered.


    When I entered my maas, he was standing by the fountain and staring at the eggs in his hands. A look of wonder shone in his eyes, contrasted by the pink stripes of fresh skin that stood out on his pallid face. His muscles had toned, and the fat density of his skin had shrunk, giving him the look of a marble statue come to life.


    I scowled as I approached. ¡°So.¡±


    His faint smile faded when he looked up. ¡°Did I do something wrong?¡±


    ¡°Not you, necessarily.¡± I flicked a finger at his armor. ¡°Tell it to come out. We need to talk.¡±


    ¡°His Common Name for this age is Sosa.¡±


    My frown deepened. ¡°I don¡¯t care. Get it out, now.¡±


    Hasda¡¯s brow quirked but he complied, tapping the buckles. Purple haze clouded the surface as the djinn¡¯s face materialized above Hasda¡¯s chest.


    ¡°Yes, Old One?¡± Its smile was sly, its eyes blinking in a lazy, serpentine way.


    I bared my teeth. ¡°The next words out of your mouth better be assurances of no ill will to Hasda, and that no pact with him will in any way bring him to harm, or so help me I¡¯ll unbind you from that armor with my bare hands.¡±


    ¡°Mmm, such threats.¡± It still had an unmerited amount of self-confidence in its voice. ¡°But can you carry them out?¡±


    ¡°Sosa¡­¡± Hasda said.


    I held up a finger to him and drilled the djinn with a stare. ¡°You want to know if I can uphold my word?¡± My smile was wolfish. ¡°I was the Lord of Death in my pantheon. I carry the spirit of an Apkalla in my bones until it is taken from me by its own death god or laid to rest in Peklo. So I can damn well tear a pesky demon out of a little piece of armor.¡±


    It didn¡¯t look impressed, so I brought out the heavy weaponry.


    ¡°Remember that patch of dirt that had you pissing yourself?¡± Now I had its attention. ¡°I¡¯ll bury you deep in the ground myself, and then I¡¯ll break your vessel.¡± I gestured at my exposed ribcage. ¡°I¡¯m a skeleton. A little dirt never bothered me.¡±


    The djinn¡¯s image faltered. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you threaten.¡±


    ¡°No?¡± I stepped forward, and Hasda stepped back. I towered over the thin face flickering on his armor. ¡°I came out of retirement for him. I¡¯ve faced beings far scarier than your deepest nightmare, stared down your ¡®Sea Mother¡¯ without flinching. And I know what¡¯s in those mines.¡± That wasn¡¯t exactly true¡ªI had the Spinster¡¯s confirmation of who was below, which I¡¯d yet to verify for myself¡ªbut he didn¡¯t know that. ¡°Nothing under that ground could possibly scare me.¡±


    It gave me a confused look. ¡°Wait, you claim to have snared an Apkalla. How did you manage that?¡±


    ¡°Like this.¡±

 Chapter 72: The Lizards

    I set my hand on the armor and let the haze wash over my bones. Bit by bit, I tugged wisps of energy into my marrow. It tickled, pin pricks of spice on the cold of the apkallas spirit. But it was difficult to consume its spirit, nothing like harvesting a soul. I wasn¡¯t sure I could actually collect the entirety of the djinn with how much effort it took just to snatch these scattered pieces, but he didn¡¯t need to know that.


    ¡°All right! I believe!¡± The djinn recoiled from my hand as if magnetized.


    ¡°Then you''ll promise not to harm Hasda?¡±


    ¡°I cannot swear that no harm shall befall him, surely you understand.¡± Its voice was whiny.


    ¡°That''s not what I said.¡± I folded my arms and leveled my weightiest stare at the djinn. ¡°Neither through guile nor pact, inaction or misdirection, shall anything within your power cause harm to hasda. An absolute, soul binding Oath that everything you do is only for his good.¡±


    The djinn hissed. ¡°My aide doesn''t come from nowhere. To fulfill wishes, to provide power, prices must be paid. That is unalterable.¡±


    ¡°Then you''d best make sure he gets the best prices, eh?¡± I had the spirit practically pinned beneath my gaze. ¡°I sense a cent of profiteering, and I''ll rip you out at once.¡±


    ¡°As you say, Old One!¡± The djinn¡¯s tone was sour. ¡°But I cannot contract with any other, besides the binder which has bound me.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever pissed off a god?¡± I lowered myself to one knee, my eyes level with the djinn¡¯s. ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit about your code, or tradition, or whatever oratory you want to hide your sorry ass behind. So you will swear, or I will carry your soul within my frame and let you fester in the knowledge that any day could be your last, and only my whims keep you from oblivion.¡±


    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s a bit much,¡± Hasda said. He looked uncomfortable being little more than a mount for the djinn in this conversation.


    I grunted. ¡°I¡¯ve had few enough dealings with efreets, but what I know of the stories makes me justifiably wary of their deals.¡± I jabbed a finger at the djinn, who flinched away. ¡°This one is going to mind itself, or it¡¯s going to learn the hard way about circumventing oaths.¡±


    ¡°We stand by our bindings always,¡± the djinn hissed.


    ¡°My interpretation is the only one that matters.¡± I put a bit of my power into my voice, making them both flinch. I hadn¡¯t meant to hit Hasda with that, but it was unavoidable. ¡°Are we clear?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Its purple energy churned at the edges of the chestplate. ¡°Anything else? Or are you going to incessantly vex me with your endless taunting?¡±


    I poked the fringe of its aura and smiled as it squealed. ¡°For now.¡±


    As soon as the words left my mouth, the djinn slipped back into the jagged scar on the breastplate. It might have been my imagination, but the unnatural weld didn¡¯t look as angry or out of place, the metal lumps withdrawn and closer to flush with the surface. What wasn¡¯t imagined, however, was the splash of color that returned to Hasda¡¯s face after the djinn hid. I pulled myself back to my feet and smiled at him. ¡°Much better.¡±


    He didn¡¯t look convinced. ¡°Was that really necessary? He hasn¡¯t hurt me, and he¡¯s been nothing but honest with me.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    ¡°Thus far.¡± I gave him a look. ¡°When was the last time you looked in a mirror?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    I grunted. ¡°That¡¯s what I thought. You¡¯ve been growing progressively paler ever since you and the djinn bonded. Now, I trust you to be able to handle yourself with it, so I need you to trust me when it comes to mortal limits.¡± I glared at the armor. ¡°It putting you on the edge of your grave before your time is where I draw the line.¡±


    ¡°Oh, when we established the contract, I made sure he couldn¡¯t kill me with any of his prices.¡± Hasda rested the eggs against his sides and smiled.


    Well, I had to give him credit for that much. But he still had a lot to learn. I tapped the armor, which seemed to vibrate at my touch. ¡°That would only prevent it from outright killing you. Slowly sapping your strength and letting you fall in combat because you spent too much on it? A letter of the law execution of your agreement.¡± I sighed. ¡°But you did good, putting such a clause in.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± He beamed.


    I jerked my head at the eggs. ¡°So. More lizards in my temple?¡±


    Hasda barked a laugh. ¡°I haven¡¯t thought about them in years.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, I spent many a night with your forest finds scurrying across my lap while you slept.¡± I shuffled past him to sit on the fountain and patted the stone next to me. ¡°You going to tell me how you managed to get those from the hydra?¡±


    He set himself carefully on the ledge, struggling to balance the eggs without exacerbating their cracks. ¡°When the mongoose attacked, she split her brood among her heads and hid them in her mouths. That was why she wasn¡¯t breathing fire and acid everywhere at first.¡± He rubbed the left egg. ¡°Since she still has surviving eggs to raise, she couldn¡¯t abandon her brood to help us. But she offered me the weakest as a reward for protecting her young.¡±


    ¡°So knocking the eggs together was to determine which of the runts was the weakest?¡± I wasn¡¯t sure that the thickness of its shell was a good indication of the strength of the hydraling inside, but I also wasn¡¯t a hydra myself. Yet both had given before the other, a near miracle.


    He nodded. ¡°She wasn¡¯t expecting both to break. It had never happened before.¡±


    ¡°Did she tell you how to raise them?¡± Even as I said it, I had a feeling this was going to be a group effort no matter Hasda¡¯s intention.


    He shook his head. ¡°She said they wouldn¡¯t be much work, I would just need to keep them well fed.¡±


    I let my fingers dangle in the water behind us. ¡°Mm, she makes it sound so simple.¡±


    ¡°They eat a lot?¡±


    ¡°Yes. But that¡¯s a worry for when they hatch.¡± I nodded at the cracks. ¡°Will those hurt the younglings before they¡¯re ready to come out?¡±


    ¡°I hope not.¡± He ran a hand over the left bumpy blue shell, tracing the break with his finger. ¡°Perhaps I should swaddle them? Oh!¡± His eyes lit up. ¡°Maybe Phaeus will let me incubate them in his forge.¡±


    Now there was a thought. I smiled. ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll need that much heat. But here.¡± I took one egg from him, wincing as it crinkled. As steady as I could, I lowered it into the fountain water and let the cool liquid bathe the breaks. The water couldn¡¯t repair the damage, but it could seal the cracks until the hydras were big enough to hatch. I hoped, anyways.


    ¡°I will see if Seppo knows anything about keeping hydra eggs.¡± I left one egg to float as I handed its twin to Hasda. Though bumpy, the shell was still slick from its dunking, and my fingers lacked the flesh that made dexterity less difficult. ¡°We can worry about their nurture once they¡¯re hatched.¡±


    Hasda nodded, a motion punctuated by a crack splitting the air. He jerked, clutching the eggs tight.


    I was on my feet and had the hilt of my Sword half-formed in my hand when I saw the silver portal glowing a few feet away. Silver? Whose sign was that? While Seated gods had a variety of colors tied to their symbology, none of us had chosen a precious metal. I was even more surprised when Phemonoe walked through.


    She gave me a tight smile. ¡°I¡¯m sorry we didn¡¯t get to discuss my vision before. I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s a little too late now.¡±


    Oh, right. Phemonoe had been about to tell me about her sudden vision when she¡¯d burst into the Spinster¡¯s garden. I frowned. Come to think of it, she¡¯d come through a portal then, too. I hadn¡¯t paid attention to its color, but generally mortals required a deity to open one for them. In the rush, I¡¯d thought she must have followed me through mine, but then, I would have closed mine behind me. Especially since the Spinster was a threat.


    ¡°Yes, the portal is mine.¡± She seemed to read my thoughts on my face. ¡°Your presence is needed in the throne room. Seppo has convened a meeting of the Seated gods.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s bad, isn¡¯t it?¡± Hasda cradled the eggs as he leaned forward, worry tracing lines on his features.


    The High Oracle nodded. ¡°Congratulations on completing your Trial. Unfortunately, I fear the celebration will be postponed due to current events.¡±


    ¡°Care to give me a rundown on the way?¡± I shouldered on some extra pounds, feeling the satisfying weight of muscles settle onto my frame as I strode towards her sparking portal.


    ¡°Bring those with you.¡± She nodded at the eggs in Hasda¡¯s arms. ¡°The feast might be delayed, but Seppo isn¡¯t going to ignore your accomplishments.¡± Sighing, she gathered her robes and met me at the portal. ¡°Your maas has a nice smell.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± I swept an arm through the portal and waited for her to go first. ¡°So, what news?¡±


    She frowned as she passed under. ¡°Bad, and not just omens. The Paedens have invaded Tingin again.¡±

 Chapter 73: The Loss

    That wasn¡¯t entirely surprising, but it was a shock that they¡¯d moved so quickly. With Malia injured and me handling Hasda¡¯s Trial, though, we had a moving front and no war gods monitoring it. So it made sense that the feast would be postponed until I could deal with this resurgence. Before following after the Oracle, I opened a portal for Hasda to Maas Taeful so he could rest and wash himself in the springs.


    The atmosphere of Nebesa was somber as Phemonoe and I made our way through the city. Cliques of satyrs sulked in doorways, minotaurs smiled briefly before resuming their mouthy frowns, and even the harpies overhead shrieked but infrequently. Dryads which would normally be a flurry of foliage moved as if their leaves floated on motionless ponds. The minor gods we passed were a bit more cheerful, but even they couldn¡¯t muster enough festive spirit to overcome the subdued atmosphere that had fallen over our celestial realm.


    I found it hard to try cheering them up with the High Oracle walking beside me. Not that I minded her company, but rather that she served as a constant reminder of the strange event that had happened last time we met. I hadn¡¯t had time to discuss it with Malia, much less work through the implications of what had occurred. And now there was the added complication of a mere mortal opening her own pathways to the maas.


    She caught me looking again and gave me a strained smile. ¡°Is there something on my face?¡±


    I coughed. ¡°That, ah, silver portal. That was yours?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± She stared down the rode, her robes swishing and her chains clinking. ¡°I¡¯m well aware of how unusual my new abilities are.¡±


    ¡°Abilities? Plural?¡± If that portal was from our meeting with the Spinster, what else had that eldritch goddess given her?


    ¡°I thought you could see the change, the way you kept drilling me with that look.¡± She laughed, confidence failing to mask the undercurrent of unease. ¡°My outdated vision was my last. The scrying pool is clouded to me in the most mundane way.¡±


    What?


    I must have stopped because the crowd parted around me, leaving me on an island. A shiver jostled my spine, and not from the cool of Nebesa. An Oracle could lose her ability to scry? A High Oracle, no less. I frowned. But she wouldn¡¯t count that as an additional ability, if it were truly lost to her.


    ¡°What else changed?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The mortal realm is lost to me, but¡­¡± She looked down at her folded hands and shrugged. With the graying sky and the dour mood around us, it brought the years on heavily. When she looked up, her eyes flashed with fleeting fear before the mask reasserted itself. ¡°I can see the eddies of the gods.¡±


    I blinked. Well, that certainly wasn¡¯t what I was expecting. I went to fold my arms, stopped, and put myself in motion again. Catching her elbow, I half-dragged her along, scowling at the questions which floated up around us. With my glower firmly in place, the celestial denizens wisely kept their distance.


    ¡°Who knows?¡± I whispered, eyes tracing the most direct route to Seppo¡¯s temple.


    ¡°Only you and Seppo,¡± she gasped. Although she stumbled over her hem, she caught herself and struggled to match my pace. ¡°To the others, I¡¯ve simply lost my vision and can now travel across Nebesa at will.¡±


    ¡°Any other secret abilities?¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°The way you¡¯re tugging, hopefully the ability to regrow my limbs.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± I released her arm but kept close, sheltering her in my shadow. Yes, it was conspicuous, but despite her assurances I didn¡¯t know how far the news had traveled yet, or to whom. She¡¯d be safe from most of the major deities, but a scheming minor god looking to advance their station could find any number of ways attempted manipulation. Phemonoe could hold her own, but no reason to put her in that position.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you haven¡¯t asked about Malia yet,¡± Phemonoe said as we rounded a corner.


    ¡°She¡¯s fine.¡± And she was, if a bit grumpy. I felt her annoyance through our bond, on the lower right of my back. Roughly the vicinity of her temple. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if half the reason Nebesa felt so reserved was hiding from her cabin fever. She chafed at being forced to remain stationary, although she was already channeling that energy into various schemes.


    ¡°Are you?¡± She gave me a sideways look.


    I sighed. ¡°It¡¯s been a long, chaotic Trial, and the rafters are coming down around my ears.¡±


    She smiled. ¡°I know that feeling.¡± With a gasp, she jerked upright, slamming into me. Her eyes glazed over, and a shroud of darkness formed a sphere around us. Mouth agape, she panted for air and blindly squeezed my arm. Then the shadowy bubble burst, her eyes cleared, and she straightened.


    No one around us gave any indication that something had happened.


    Fingers still clamped on my arm, she clutched on for support as her legs sagged. She gave me a worried look. ¡°We should hurry.¡±


    Without a word, I scooped her up and strode through the streets. Crowds parted before me, but not quickly enough, and as we cleared another busy road a pair of centaurs galloped next to me. They made obeisance and offered their assistance, so I sent them ahead to make sure I had an unobstructed path to Seppo¡¯s temple.


    ¡°A vision?¡± I asked. My stride lengthened with each step, until I was nearly overtaking the chestnut centaurs who raced ahead.


    She nodded into my chest. ¡°This is embarrassing.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be.¡± I shifted her weight as we reached the steps of Seppo¡¯s temple. Arms locked, I pounded up the steps.


    Her voice was small. ¡°I¡¯ve never been scared by a vision before.¡±


    That gave me pause. I glanced down at her, but she wouldn¡¯t meet my eyes. ¡°You want to talk about it?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°I¡­might need your help. To talk to the spirits of the Oracles before me.¡±


    I blinked. Discerning a vision was a delicate task, but to be so unsure as to consult the souls in Peklo? That must have been one hell of a vision.


    Curling tighter, she tapped my chest. ¡°Please. Don¡¯t tell anyone I¡¯ve seen this. It¡¯s¡­it¡¯s nothing like I¡¯ve ever witnessed before.¡±


    Coming from the mortal who¡¯d braved the astral plane and seen an eldritch deity without passing out, that chilled me.


    I stumped up the rest of the stairs in silence. A prophecy of doom from, not one, but two elder goddesses. An unflagging Arbiter who failed to assess a Trial. And now this. An Oracle losing her powers, only to receive a vision so terrifying she wanted to talk to the dead. I shook my head as I reached the top of the steps.


    So many things going wrong, and that didn¡¯t even consider the Paeden mess. The Spartan guards gave me a quizzical look but said nothing, pulling the doors open with practiced and professional ease. I thumped across the threshold into the cloudy expanse beyond.


    Inside, Seppo plowed through the clouds in his habitual pacing. His bronze exoskeleton sighed and hissed, pipes sliding along with his paces. Off to the side stood a handful of the Seated gods, arranged in an arc that let them converse with Seppo and each other without obstructing the latter¡¯s war path.


    Azoria, arrayed in white and blue robes, was no surprise, since much wisdom would be needed in this meeting, but Tarrha was, her dark hair floofy today. Usually the Goddess of Beauty didn¡¯t bother herself with the affairs of war, and without Malia I¡¯d have to figure out her angle on my own. Synnefo, now fully occupying the Office of Weather, was also present, looking skinny in Zephyrus¡¯ robes. The harvest goddess, Vrixia, stood next to him, a pining look on her face as she stared off into the horizon. Although her simple brown robes looked out of place next to the finery of the others, it complimented her nicely. She was probably wishing she could be with Resef, who wasn¡¯t in attendance for whatever reason.


    I frowned as I glanced over their faces. Kydon wasn¡¯t here, either. Neither was Thane, for that matter. Phaeus rarely left his forge, and Loutro was unnecessary without a feast to prepare, but I¡¯d have expected Thane at least to have crawled back from whatever excursion he¡¯d been up to.


    Seppo grunted an acknowledgement of my arrival, but it wasn¡¯t until he saw Phemonoe in my arms that he came to a stop. ¡°Is she okay?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s fine.¡± I plodded into the room. ¡°Just had a bit of a fainting spell on the way over.¡±


    He hummed and stroked his chin. Waving his other hand, he shaped a portion of the clouds into a long, low couch and gestured for me to set her down. ¡°Well wishes for your health, High Oracle.¡±


    I squinted at the formality, but at least he hadn¡¯t stripped her of her title. Which meant he hadn¡¯t told the others yet. Phemonoe picked up on the unspoken statement as well and smiled her thanks as I lowered her onto the cushion.


    Seppo sighed, more weary than agitated, and settled back into his pacing. ¡°Well, now that you¡¯re here, we can begin.¡±


    Something heavy slammed against the throne room doors.

 Chapter 74: The Staff

    Everyone turned as Thane stumbled in. Covered in dirt, leaves, and reddish brown lumps that looked suspiciously like rotting meat, he staggered as if he hadn¡¯t slept in days. His dark robes were filthy, the hem shredded from his trek. Black eyes ringed his face, contrasted by the bright red claw marks that left his arms swollen.


    Azoria was at his side in a blink, lowering him onto the cloudy floor. Behind her, the Spartans watched with veiled worry as they pulled the doors shut. Thane collapsed, smiling, into her arms.


    ¡°What now?¡± Another sigh escaped Seppo. ¡°Apologies, Thane, but you¡¯re not even the worst of what¡¯s happened recently.¡±


    He weakly waved the comment away. ¡°Found the staff. Couldn¡¯t get it.¡±


    ¡°Which staff?¡± Tarrha asked, leaning forward.


    I wrinkled my nose. That was definitely the stench of undead on him, and none of ours. But there wasn¡¯t a hint of salt or the sea in the smell, either, so not Paeden. There was only one staff associated with necromancy that was powerful enough to give Thane problems, and that was the one carried by the Ghorin witchdoctor, or whatever they called their shaman these days.


    I frowned. Malia had mentioned those islanders in the north had grown, but unless Thane had gone for a chilly swim, that meant the staff was on the mainland. So either they¡¯d expanded, or someone had taken their staff from them. I didn¡¯t have enough information to know which option was worse.


    ¡°Let him rest,¡± Seppo said. Frowning, he quickened his pace and kicked up a few tiny clouds. ¡°Resef is handling the Paedens in Aenea as we speak.¡± His eyes flicked to mine. ¡°Sorry, Charax. With Malia injured and you gone, he was the best one suited to handling this battle, since it¡¯s within his territory.¡±


    So they weren¡¯t leaving Aenea alone. I shook my head. ¡°Not an issue. What about Tingin?¡±


    ¡°So you heard about that.¡± Seppo was sighing a lot today. ¡°Azoria?¡±


    ¡°They crossed the mountains two days ago and have taken the mines.¡± Her arms tightened around Thane. ¡°Jade is missing.¡±


    ¡°Azoria has done well stablishing the temples of the Desert Prophet.¡± Vrixia separated from the line. ¡°You may wish to collect their worship and strengthen yourself before heading north, but we¡¯re not sure of the severity of the threat.¡±


    What? Oh, right, that nomad persona I¡¯d worn in Aenea. Reassuming it would be a boon in assisting Resef to drive the Paedens back out. But Jade was missing, presumably captured by the Paedens, and with the Sea Mother on the move, we couldn¡¯t trust them to hold the mines against her. True, they¡¯d bound her and her mate before, but that was a long time ago and their empire wasn¡¯t what it once was.


    ¡°Charax should go to Tingin immediately,¡± Phemonoe said. Her voice was confident, but her face had gone ashen.


    Synnefo regarded her with a pensive look. ¡°Have you had another vision? Seppo wasn¡¯t exactly clear on the illness that¡¯s befallen you.¡±


    Her face went paler, but she said nothing.


    I stepped forward, angling myself between them. ¡°Actually, I did.¡±


    That earned me a few quizzical looks.


    ¡°Best way to break the news, I guess.¡± I met Seppo¡¯s confused look. ¡°I¡¯ve had two separate¡­visitations is the best way to describe them. Strong enough to rival eldritch deities, although they claim to be a cut above that.¡±


    ¡°Beings greater than titans?¡± Seppo asked.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I nodded. With a bit of editing, I recounted my experience with the Sybil and the Spinster. The prophecy of the former I kept to myself, but her harassment of forest visions and the proclamation of her sister stayed in. No need to keep that to myself, especially since the Paedens had already attacked the first location and were assaulting the other two while we held court.


    Azoria frowned. ¡°And this Spinster, she made her claim before any of the Paeden attacks?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, yes.¡± I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know that she¡¯s a seer, but with the Paedens moving on Tingin and Aenea, and the god we dealt with in Ibithia, I¡¯m forced to presume the Sea Mother is also heading to Tingin.¡±


    Seppo¡¯s hissing exoskeleton failed to hide his sigh. ¡°At the least, we know to expect her this time.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll need to get Jade back, if the Paedens have her. Tamiyat will target her and try to turn her into a proxy, like she did with Lazuli.¡±


    Seppo grunted. ¡°Speaking of Lazuli, your wife wanted your help with her. Something about them needing to ¡®have a chat.¡¯¡±


    Oh boy. Malia must¡¯ve been really incensed about having to recover if she was dredging up her petrified prisoners. But maybe there was something to that. Lazuli had been Tamiyat¡¯s proxy before, so if she could be reasoned with, maybe we could learn a way to preclude Jade ever being taken by the Sea Mother.


    I dipped my head. ¡°I¡¯ll see to her on the way out.¡±


    ¡°Before you go,¡± Thane said. Coughing, he wriggled in Azoria¡¯s arms to a sitting position and held out his arm. His Scythe materialized in his hand, the blade glinting in the false sunlight. ¡°Here.¡±


    Ice water sloshed inside my bones, which felt even worse since I¡¯d resumed my mortal form. I scowled. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time for that.¡±


    ¡°It might very well be,¡± Tarrha said. Chin resting on the back of her hands, she gave me a coy smile.


    Thane jerked a nod, then succumbed to another fit of coughing. The Scythe shivered in the air. ¡°That Stitcher¡­I can¡¯t beat him.¡±


    ¡°Is it really that bad?¡± I sighed. ¡°I¡¯m already Seated, so I¡¯d have to resign the Office of War fully to Malia before I could become the God of Death again. And that would leave you without a station. Are you sure you wish to resign your responsibilities?¡±


    ¡°You can hold an Office and a half.¡± Seppo waved his hand dismissively. ¡°The Offices are changing, and Loutro is willing to separate ¡®feasting¡¯ from ¡®revelry¡¯ to allow Thane to keep his Seat.¡±


    I kept my arms folded. I wasn¡¯t accepting that transfer just yet. ¡°Does this take precedence over the Tingin situation? Or can it wait?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not divine yet.¡± Another cough interrupted Thane. Wiping his face, he gave Azoria an apologetic smile before shooting me a hard look. ¡°But he¡¯s going to be a problem if we don¡¯t deal with him. He doesn¡¯t need souls to reanimate corpses.¡±


    That could certainly cause issues. ¡°Skeletons or flesh bearers, too?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± His eyes sparkled with frustration and irony. ¡°I think his magic is completely separated from the spiritual realm. The army of souls I raised against him did nothing.¡±


    What a nuisance this Stitcher was turning out to be. I scowled. ¡°Are there no gods who could assume your role? No apprentices or minor gods you¡¯ve had your eye on?¡±


    He rested the butt of the Scythe on the clouds and gave me an apologetic shrug. ¡°I haven¡¯t been comfortable with my duties since you left. You think I was confident enough to train a successor?¡±


    I grunted. ¡°It¡¯s still your responsibility, as uncomfortable as it may be. What if I¡¯d stayed retired? Who would bear your burden then?¡±


    ¡°But you didn¡¯t stay retired, you old fool.¡± The doors slammed open as Malia made her way in. Quivering priestesses flanked her, trying their best to catch her attention and coax her back to bed, but they shrank away whenever her hair snakes hissed at them. Although she snapped her wings and tried to be dramatic, the burns and bandages plastered across her face ruined the effect. Healing water ran down her face to fall off her chin.


    Typical.


    ¡°You should be resting,¡± I said.


    ¡°And you should stop being an old grump,¡± she spat back. Her eyes flashed, but with diminished vigor. While she looked better than before, she still had much to heal. She paused when she saw Phemonoe and tilted her head. ¡°What happened to you, dear?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve suffered an illness,¡± she said, chagrined.


    Malia shook her head. ¡°Not that. Something¡¯s happened to you.¡±


    ¡°Not here,¡± I whispered, perhaps a bit too harsh. The gods behind me frowned, but I ignored them. Straightening, I shook my head at Thane. ¡°I can¡¯t accept that. Not yet, anyways. We need to secure Tingin and potentially rescue Jade before we start worrying about a backwater thorn.¡±


    A thoughtful look settled on her face. ¡°Hmm. We need the staff, yes?¡± She turned to Thane. ¡°How long before this Stitcher becomes an unmanageable problem?¡±


    He looked at Azoria, who shrugged. Shaking his head, he said, ¡°I¡¯m not sure. How many undead, immune to sorcery, is too many?¡±


    ¡°Perfect.¡± Whatever idea had spawned behind that smile, I didn¡¯t like it. She grinned at Seppo. ¡°I have two suggestions.¡±


    With a sigh, he waved his hand. ¡°Let¡¯s hear them.¡±


    ¡°You could let Hasda retrieve the staff as his Third Trial.¡± Her fangs flashed in the fake afternoon sun. ¡°As for now, you could send him to Tingin to lead the Carthian forces.¡±


    ¡°Malia¡­¡± I reached for her arm.


    ¡°Oh, come now.¡± She tossed her head and flinched at the pain of reopened wounds. Still, she kept her smile in place. ¡°We¡¯ve barely mustered any troops, those there couldn¡¯t even charitably be called an army, and he¡¯s familiar with the land. It¡¯ll also give him leadership experience.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°He¡¯s a good lad, but he¡¯s not ready for that yet. He has at least one more Trial to complete. We don¡¯t even know if this one¡¯s been certified yet.¡± I glanced at Seppo. ¡°Where is Kydon? He never came to Ibithia.¡±


    Tufts bounced off his feet as he paced. ¡°I sent him ahead to Tingin. With Malia sick and you gone, the legality of our borders fell to him.¡± Steam venting off his carapice, he slowed. Sagging, he came to a stop. ¡°I will think on your suggestions, Malia. For now, you should probably go with Charax and prepare him for Tingin.¡±

 Chapter 75: The Spoiling

    We sat in the inner chambers of Malia¡¯s Nebesan temple, Malia soaking in a tub of healing water. It had been ages since I last visited, since we mostly held conference by the fountain of Maas Pirene. Standing torches guttered with flickering flame, painting shadow murals with the evening sunlight on the marbled walls. The timid priestesses had followed us all the way back from Seppo¡¯s temple and now kneeled next to Malia, changing the towels on her forehead and laving her wounds.


    I sat on a lumpy pile of cushions out of splash range. It was nice to take a break, even if I¡¯d be heading out soon. I¡¯d sent word to Hasda that he should be prepared to leave at a moment¡¯s notice, but to enjoy Nebesa until then. Who knew when our next respite would come?


    ¡°So, what are my categories?¡± Malia asked. A towel covered her eyes, her snakes flicking their tongues in the steam rising off the cloth.


    I sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not sure there¡¯s ¡®good¡¯ news this time.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, I love those.¡± She smiled and sank deeper into the bath. ¡°Chronological order, then.¡±


    Settling back on the cushions, I recounted everything that¡¯d happened after she left. Her lips twitched when I mentioned the hydra eggs, but what really got her attention was Phemonoe¡¯s terrifying vision.


    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t tell you what it was?¡± she said.


    I shook my head, then grunted at the stupid towel and said, ¡°No. But whatever it was, it must have been terrible.¡±


    Malia hummed and drummed the rim of the tub with her fingers. ¡°Will you take her to the astral plane again? It might help her stabilize these new abilities of hers.¡±


    ¡°I could try, after we handle the Sea Mother.¡± I poked her arm. ¡°And by ¡®we,¡¯ I mean Hasda and I. You need to rest until you¡¯re fully healed.¡±


    She pushed the edge of the towel up and gave me a look. ¡°When was the last time that worked?¡±


    ¡°I love you, and I¡¯m serious.¡± I folded my arms and laid further back on the cushions. ¡°The Sea Mother is going to be trouble enough, but then we have the Paedens making moves on our western borders now, and they still haven¡¯t given up on Aenea. I can¡¯t fight all these fronts by myself.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t hear enough flattery in that statement to convince me.¡± Smiling, she let the towel cover her eyes again and sat back.


    I grunted. ¡°I suppose you could find a way for the Second Trial to be certified, despite the Arbiter never arriving.¡±


    She flicked a hand dismissively. ¡°Child¡¯s play. Your testimony should be enough, and with Kydon contesting the Paedens¡¯ dispute over our western border, Seppo shouldn¡¯t have a problem approving it.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± I glanced at the priestesses. ¡°Aren¡¯t those Phemonoe¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°Were,¡± Malia said, emphasizing the word. ¡°They were blessed with attending my person, and now belong to my temple. They know, of course, not to let anything discussed here slip beyond these walls, lest they find themselves minted among my statue collection.¡±


    They paled even further and failed to hide the trembles in their hands.


    I sighed. While her humor could be lost on others, it was sometimes hard to spot when she was joking. And, since she hadn¡¯t had mortal priestesses inhabiting her Nebesan temple in¡­well, a really long time, I could understand these two¡¯s hesitation. I gave them a thin-lipped smile. ¡°She¡¯s teasing, and doing a horrible job of it. Phemonoe¡¯s attendants have always been above repute.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t give away all my secrets,¡± Malia said, frowning. ¡°I haven¡¯t finished having my fun.¡±


    I rolled my eyes, although Malia couldn¡¯t see it to appreciate the gesture. Slapping my palms on my knees, I pushed to my feet. ¡°Most threats are fairly innocuous. And, unless she becomes woefully attached to you, she¡¯ll send you back to the High Oracle¡¯s service once she¡¯s better. She¡¯s not actually going to keep you as retainers.¡±


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    While the shaking didn¡¯t diminish, they did look slightly relieved, although the glances they shot Malia¡¯s snakes made it clear they were afraid to show it in front of her.


    Malia stuck her tongue out at me. ¡°You always spoil things. I¡¯m almost regretting my surprise.¡±


    ¡°You wanted my help with an unpetrified Lazuli?¡±


    ¡°Not that.¡± She pushed the towel all the way up this time, brow furrowed. ¡°Who told you about Lazuli?¡±


    ¡°Phe did, on the way to Seppo.¡± Grinning, I wiped a bead of sweat off my chin. It was rather steamy in here.


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s ruining my fun today.¡± Pouting, she crossed her arms and sank into the water, up to her nose.


    I arched a brow. ¡°So no surprise today?¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± She splashed water over the rim sitting up. ¡°Have you felt your war itch lately?¡±


    ¡°No?¡± Absently I scratched at the side of my neck. I hadn¡¯t felt anything recently, but I¡¯d been in close proximity to an important fight so it wasn¡¯t surprising if I¡¯d missed something more distant.


    Her wings slipped out of the water, dripping pools on the floor behind her and flecking the priestesses¡¯ dresses. ¡°Azoria is remarkably resourceful. Did Phemonoe also tell you about the Desert Nomad temples she nurtured?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Vrixia did.¡±


    ¡°Do you remember the Numaedans?¡± She examined the backs of her nails, which she¡¯d let grow nearly into claws.


    ¡°The horse breeders? What about them?¡± Not quite nomadic, they were a desert people who lived deep in the heart of the Aenean continent and migrated to the coast to trade with the Aeneans and Carthian seafarers. Woven kite shields, bead-riddled dresses, and equines were their finest wares, although they sometimes brought gemstones and metals as well. But they¡¯d never held close ties to any of our peoples, or the Paedens, for that matter. Where was she going with this?


    Fangs glistened as a smile split her lips. ¡°I may have enlisted a couple clans in the Aenean army.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°You¡¯re recruiting?¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I be?¡± She gave me an innocent smile and fluttered her eyes. ¡°The Paedens haven¡¯t yet learned to leave well enough alone, and Hasda¡¯s nearly ready to lead. Would you have him be the head of a non-existent force?¡±


    I grunted. ¡°Did you know about Kydon?¡±


    ¡°Not before.¡± She shook her head, discarding the cooled cloth. The priestesses scrambled to replace it, but she shooed them away. ¡°I¡¯m feeling better now. Go. I¡¯ll call you when I need attendants.¡±


    Faces pale, they gathered up the tools of their ministration and scurried out of the chamber. Their robes fluttered about their ankles in their haste. While technically a breach of etiquette, Malia hadn¡¯t done them any favors, either.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look so sour.¡± She pushed my arm. ¡°I have to find my fun some way if you won¡¯t let me go.¡±


    ¡°We both know you¡¯re going to come, even if you have to physically hold your insides in, no matter how I plead.¡± I folded my arms at her frown. ¡°And what¡¯s this I hear about you wanting to depetrify Lazuli? You¡¯re in no condition to be gazing or ungazing, for that matter.¡±


    ¡°I did say I wanted your help with her.¡± She pouted, splashing water as she sat back a little too quickly.


    I sighed. ¡°Gleaning what we can before we face the Sea Mother would be useful, but we also have to keep in mind your condition and hers. Tamiyat claims to have discarded her, but was the connection truly severed? You¡¯re in no shape to take on the astral plane.¡± A frown pulled at the corner of my lips as I remembered how far the Sea Mother¡¯s corrosion had spread. ¡°The whole realm is becoming toxic.¡±


    Her eyes flicked open, and she speared me without moving her head. ¡°I¡¯m not the only one with an astral form, you know.¡±


    ¡°Yours is far more developed than mine,¡± I countered. ¡°I can barely hold its outline on my own. There¡¯s no way I can guarantee that I could sever any communication attempt between Lazuli and the Sea Mother.¡±


    ¡°Are you trying to insult me?¡±


    I scowled. ¡°More than you, me, by refusing to rest properly?¡±


    She rolled her eyes. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t thaw her if I hadn¡¯t accounted for her potentially warning Tamiyat.¡± That wolfish smile came back, and she didn¡¯t even wince this time. ¡°In fact, I¡¯m counting on it.¡±


    We glared at each other for a moment. Pig-headed woman. She was always taunting the world and expecting to get away with impunity. What constituted limit testing for me were just ¡°suggestions¡± to her, although the fact that she was stubborn enough to insist on accompanying me to the battle meant she was on the mend. But antagonizing the Sea Mother while her injuries remained was foolish, at best. Some things never changed, Malia least of all.


    I sighed. ¡°Fine. But I need to escort Phemonoe to Peklo while you¡¯re taking her out.¡±


    Malia raised a brow. ¡°The astral plane wasn¡¯t enough, you need to take her to the depths now, too?¡±


    ¡°This time, it¡¯s her request.¡± I grunted a laugh, trying and failing to mask the concern in my voice. ¡°She wants to consult the spirits of the Oracles before her.¡±


    Shock mingled with awe on her cracked face. ¡°The vision shook her that badly?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I will see what I can learn while we¡¯re there. Do you know where those spirits might be?¡±


    Malia looked off in the distance, her finger tapping her lips. ¡°It¡¯s been decades since I last went down. You¡¯ll have to ask Thane. Or¡­¡± A smile curled her lips, and her eyes lit up.


    I scowled. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on.¡± She splashed water at me. ¡°You¡¯re going to end up taking the Office back from him eventually. You might as well use the Scythe to guide you in the meantime.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve skipped enough ceremony due to the circumstances.¡± I folded my arms and wore my best scowl. ¡°I¡¯m not taking the symbol of the Office, any more I am the station itself, until we can transition properly. I¡¯ll just ask Thane about them.¡±


    She slid to the edge of the tub, her elbows slipping over the rim. ¡°You saw the condition he¡¯s in. You think he¡¯s going to be up to guiding you through Peklo, O Great Bedrest Physician?¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°General directions will work fine. I haven¡¯t lost my ability to track souls down just because I¡¯m not the God of Death anymore.¡±


    ¡°Suit yourself.¡± Her smile was knowing.


    ¡°You behave.¡± I poked her nose. ¡°And don¡¯t let Lazuli out until I get there.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll start from the feet.¡± Her eyes glowed as she said it.


    Pity flickered in my mind. As Lazuli lost her petrification, the feeling would return to her exposed skin. Malia had said she would have her fun, and I didn¡¯t envy the minor goddess for her role in alleviating her boredom.


    ¡°Be nice, okay?¡± I said.


    Malia just smiled.

 Chapter 76: The Underworld

    Before gathering Phemonoe for her Peklonic journey, I sent a handful of messengers to Maas Taeful so Hasda could prepare for our trip after. I didn¡¯t tell him anything beyond our destination, and that it was business only. No need to worry him about Jade¡¯s situation or set his expectations about seeing her there.


    On the way to the High Oracle¡¯s temple, I swung by Thane¡¯s to ask after the spirits of the previous Oracles. He wasn¡¯t in his temple, or in the vicinity of mine, but in a far too self-evident turn of affairs I found him in Azoria¡¯s inner chambers. They were decent, because Thane was sick, but if he hadn¡¯t and I¡¯d forgotten to knock there was a high likelihood they wouldn¡¯t have been. I plowed through the awkwardness and ignored his feeble attempt at giving me the Scythe again to make my request.


    The spirits had migrated through the second tunnel to the third. When a soul came to Peklo, it crossed the Xekoili Lake and traveled through Sisiranga¨Csix tunnels¨Con its way to its eternal resting place. The oldest souls in our pantheon had only reached the fifth, although a few of the lighter ones had raced all the way to the mouth of the sixth.


    The fact that the Oracles had only reached the third meant they had clumped together and were traveling in a pack. It wasn¡¯t unusual for a spirit to resist the descent, and some had even returned to previous passages, but very rarely did multi-generational souls band together. At least it would make finding them easier, once we were down there. Bidding Thane health and success on his endeavors, I set out to meet Phemonoe.


    She was waiting for me on the steps of her temple. Long hair bound in curling bundles, she wore simple robes and had foregone her jewelry. Not even a simple hoop bracelet or chain necklace adorned her. The only exception was a silver needle, capped by a polished diamond, that pinned her pile of curls off her neck. Bags under her eyes deepened the already dark shade of brown, although her face held its color today.


    I met her rueful smile with a confident one. ¡°Ready for the underworld?¡±


    ¡°I must confess a bit of nerves about the whole affair.¡± She absently tugged at her sleeves and watched a pair of three-legged cyclops cross the road. ¡°It feels strange to enter Peklo with the God of Death before my time.¡±


    Grunting, I took her hand and led her down the stairs. ¡°I¡¯m not the God of Death anymore¨C¡±


    ¡°Yet,¡± she said, a glint in her eyes.


    ¡°¨Cand even if I were, I wouldn¡¯t keep you there against your will. Peklo is no place for the living.¡±


    ¡°Your ability to instill confidence hasn¡¯t changed a bit,¡± Phemonoe said, a nervous laugh slipping out.


    Putting my back to her, I scowled as I opened my portal.


    She reached up and patted my shoulder. ¡°You tried. I appreciate that.¡±


    ¡°How familiar are you with the depths of Peklo?¡± My portal flared open with surprising ease, the orange line sparking as my fingers traced the air. It opened to a dimly lit beach of russet sand, guttering torches ensconced in the stone. I¡¯d kept the opening far enough away from the lake that its noxious fumes wouldn¡¯t belch out, but I could do nothing about the heat.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°Enough to know that it¡¯s unpleasant,¡± she said. Her nose wrinkled as the humid air wafted over us. ¡°Will we be going far?¡±


    ¡°Not too far, but still a considerable distance.¡± Stopping my nose, I pulled Phemonoe after me into the cloying heat. The stench hit us the moment I closed my portal. Even with my sense of smell plugged, the fetor of the underworld tickled my gag reflex. I extended my aura to shelter the High Oracle against the smell as best I could.


    Phemonoe held her sleeve over her nose, her eyes watering. ¡°Does that get worse?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Once we¡¯re past the Xekoili Lake and into the tunnels it will recede, but only slightly. It gets less acidic and more rank the lower we go into Sisiranga, though.¡±


    ¡°Lead the way.¡± Tears escaped her eyes, and she clamped the other sleeve on top of the first.


    We shuffled awkwardly across the sand, not daring to breathe more than the minimum. Open-mouthed didn¡¯t help much, as the odor crept up our throats and invaded our nostrils from the rear. Many bends and a short eternity later, the sand finally found the shallow waters of the lake. Putrid water the color of bile lapped the shore. Where waves crashed, filmy piss-colored bubbles frothed, floating on the surface for long minutes before popping one by one. The jagged walls bowed above us, bending together to form a dome surprisingly free of stalactites. In all my centuries the dangling stone spears had yet to form, despite the omnipresent drops that fell like beads of sweat from its uneven ceiling.


    Noses clogged, we plunged into the waters, wet up to our ankles. The lakebed squished underfoot, the dark sand mixing with clay. A few souls appeared and floated along beside us, vague outlines of pale steam. One of the more energetic departed raced ahead, angling for the cavernous mouth on the opposite wall. When it reached the opening, it dissipated as a cacophony of honks heralded its arrival.


    A rustle of feathers preceded the appearance of Xinva, the giant four-winged goose that guarded the entrance to Sisiranga and one of the few divine beasts closely associated with our pantheon. Brown feathers traced with white lines covered his wings, while his throat and body were covered in white, downy feathers. A stripe of chocolate feathers coated the back of his neck like armor, and a bulbous black protrusion stuck out above a matching beak. His feet, a loud, bright blue, stood at odds with his somber plumage and surroundings, but seemed fitting for the raucous fowl.


    Spreading his double wings, Xinva squawked and snapped at the approaching spirits. They quaked, as all new arrivals did, at the sight and sound of the goose. When they found themselves still intact, despite his snipping and honking, they pulled themselves together and passed through the gateway. With the specters gone, Xinva turned his head sideways and stared at us with one beady eye.


    I stood barely to the base of his neck, but I still carried an aura that dwarfed his imposing presence. Even without the display of power, Xinva recognized me and shuffled back, fluttering his wings and chirping. I patted his chest as we passed, earning a contented hoot.


    Phemonoe looked over her shoulder several times long after we¡¯d left Xinva far behind.


    ¡°Impressive, isn¡¯t he?¡± My voice rebounded in strange ways off the wet walls. They¡¯d traded their ragged texture for a lumpier one, and the diameter of the tunnel shrank and grew in irregular intervals as we descended. Ambient light, a sickly red hue, filled the tunnels from no visible source.


    The Oracle frowned as her next step squelched. ¡°Will we see him again?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t like birds?¡± I glanced down at her.


    She gave a nervous laugh. ¡°There was just something¡­unsettling about him.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°He bars the worst of the spirits from the underworld, and binds the remainder to their journey onwards. But he won¡¯t follow us, so you¡¯ll just have to wait until we leave to get another peek.¡±


    Lips pursed, she gave me a sour look. My joke was appreciated, then. I smiled, and we continued on.


    Before we reached the Sisiranga, we traveled down a tunnel that was nearly vertical. A lone lantern hung from the ceiling above, the only visible light source emitting a glow that flirted with orange. Contrasted to the red haze that clung to the craggy surfaces, it was the warmest light in Peklo. Once we finished our spiral down the lumpy stones that passed for stairs, it would be hidden from sight, and none would take its place. In all my centuries, I¡¯d never discovered the source of Peklo¡¯s omnipresent, scarlet glow, and at this point I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to.


    We reached the bottom, Phemonoe slightly dizzy from the winding. A dark opening beckoned us into the first of the tunnels. Feeling the spirit of the Apkalla chill in my bones, I stopped with the Oracle at the threshold.


    ¡°I have a brief bit of business to attend to on the way.¡± I pulled up my sleeves and sloughed off my skin. With the Scythe, I wouldn¡¯t need to shed the pounds to pull the soul from my bones, but for now, my skeletal form would do.


    Phemonoe politely ignored my melting flesh.


    ¡°Also, don¡¯t pay the Avoso any mind.¡± I squirmed under my robes and shook them to get the muscle off faster. ¡°They¡¯ll only bother the spirits, but try not to touch them.¡±


    ¡°And they are?¡± she said.


    I gave her a lipless grin. "You¡¯ll see.¡±

 Chapter 77: The Avoso

    And see she did. While the throng of souls filled the tunnel like a river of mist, it was impossible to miss the undead shepherds. Floating above the surging spirits, the spherical skulls cavorted through the air. Long spikes protruded from what remained of the cranial plates, which bore more than the normal pair of eye sockets. Impacted teeth bent some of the sockets, though none were twisted so far as to give the impression that the hole had once been a mouth. The Avoso dipped their spikes into the river of souls, occasionally coming away with a wispy soul snagged on a steel rod.


    Phemonoe stood still and stared. Before I looked at her, I thought she¡¯d balked in fear, but she leaned forward in awe. ¡°What are they doing?¡±


    ¡°Guiding the spirits towards the second tunnel, and purging those they think Xinva shouldn¡¯t have spared.¡± I plunged my foot into the press of souls and smiled as they created an absence around me. Phemonoe followed at my side, gawking at the Avoso. Even up close, the features of the spirits were obscured, but I could still see them with far more clarity than if I¡¯d never been the God of Death. I gestured at the closest handful of death¡¯s-heads. ¡°The Avoso flock to the first tunnel because the spirits are more plentiful here. We¡¯ll see less of them as we go down.¡±


    In the first tunnel, the heat was manageable, but as we reached the lower tunnels it would become less bearable. The stench, too, would increase, until even the noseless would have tears streaming down their faces. Thankfully, the furthest we had to go was the mouth of the fourth, so our sense of smell would recover. The acidic tang mellowed into a sour curdle. I coughed. Yup, still as bad as I remembered it.


    The spirits kept a wide berth around us, our silent companions. It was rare for a spirit to moan or wail in the underworld, as only the most destitute or heartbroken could break the veil of obscurity. None traveling with us suffered so, though. Only the dripping of condensation from the roof of the tunnel broke the hushed whisper of their passing. Sometimes the Avoso keened in delight when they found a spirit they were fond of, but mostly the loudest sound was our feet shuffling across the slightly damp floor.


    We reached the end without incident and waited as a crush of souls pressed through the bend into the second tunnel. Although the turn shut off all light inside it, I knew it was merely a half turn to the next level. And, hidden in a recess in the darkness, was the cache of foreign souls we¡¯d collected over the centuries. It wasn¡¯t a large stockpile, as most of the fallen enemies were grandfathered into the Carthian fold once we¡¯d conquered their peoples, but sometimes we¡¯d scoop up a nationless vagabond or an unbowed hero, and into the dark crevice they¡¯d go.


    I waited until the flow of souls through the bend was merely a trickle before dragging my fingers along the wall. Hugging her robes tight, Phemonoe slid back against the wall next to me, one eye on the passing souls and the other catching curious glimpses of what I was doing. Grunting, I pushed my fingers into the cracks, shivering against the feel of the soft stone on my bones. Nearly malleable, the rocks contoured around my fingertips, which gouged a hole to house the Apkalla¡¯s soul.


    Hissing, I drew the cold spirit into my upper body, down my arms, and channeled it through my hands into the wall. It chilled me and left me feeling dizzy when it passed, but it was good to have the weight off my shoulders. The spirit glowed an unhealthy yellow as it drizzled from my fingers, lighting the fissure from floor to ceiling. The hue was out of place with the blue-tinted souls passing behind me. When the last of the Apkalla¡¯s spirit was in the dimples, I scraped clay over the holes to seal it inside.


    Sighing, I extracted my hands from the wall and shook them. It didn¡¯t remove the clinging film from the clay, and I had to resist the urge to wipe my hands on my robes. A quick pass with my senses told me the other members of the archive were still there, all of the handful¨C


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    My eyes narrowed at the fissure. One of the souls was missing. Balvasco, a strange warrior who claimed to have come from beyond the edge of the world. He¡¯d lived peacefully among the tribe that had once inhabited Ibithia, before a plague had wiped them out. The seal on his holding had been broken, and not that long ago by the feel of it. Considering the only gods alive who knew about it were Thane, Malia, and myself, it was fairly likely that Thane had removed him. To fight the Stitcher? Perhaps, but he hadn¡¯t mentioned it.


    Then again, he had said the Stitcher¡¯s forces went unaffected by his own undead. Using a soul that wasn¡¯t Carthian was smart, to see if it was just an immunity to our people, but the fact that Balvasco¡¯s spirit wasn¡¯t here meant it¡¯d been claimed by another, lost, or destroyed. None of those were pleasant options to consider. I growled a curse under my breath at that bastard Stitcher and pulled Phemonoe into the second tunnel.


    She said nothing about the pause, but I could sense she wanted to. The wet tubes, waving like cilia from the walls of the next passage, however, captured her attention. She watched, mouth ajar, as Avoso collided with the glistening feelings and were absorbed. Moments later, the tubes spat them back out, leaving the porous skulls to float above the slightly diminished stream of souls.


    The Avoso moved with greater purpose here, siphoning a spirit here, another there, specific in their sampling. The remains of those whose bodies or minds had needed healing in their relinquished lives found relief within the tubes. Soldiers, farmers, fishers, and beggars were among the gathered, although it was their need, and not their status, that drew the Avoso.


    We passed on, Phemonoe admiring all the way.


    By the third tunnel, the river of souls had thinned to half its initial width. Only a quarter of the Avoso population, bronze spikes instead of steel, harried the spirits here. A few floated in askance towards Phemonoe, but I waved them away. The copper let them sample the spirits with greater care, giving them a finer touch to better shepherd the soul into stouter, thicker cilia or onto the fourth tunnel.


    Ahead, the river of souls parted around a lump, as if a rock. Nine wraiths stood in a ring, silver lacing their pale blue forms. Phemonoe gasped when she saw them, her hand grazing my bony arm.


    ¡°Are they¡­?¡± She didn¡¯t finish her question. Drifting towards them in a daze, she passed through the arms of two spirits. Their clasped hands flurried around her as she entered the ring and reformed when she reached the center. Something like a veil settled over the High Oracle, a misty film that fell as the spirits of the Oracles raised an elusive chorus.


    I couldn¡¯t make out the words, or the notes, but the sound tickled my ears at the edge of my hearing. Phemonoe mouthed along wordlessly, although the way her throat worked made me think she was singing along. Eyes alight, she spun and beamed at each spirit in turn, mouthing a greeting to each.


    Frowning at a sudden feeling of unease, I stepped forward to join her. The air chilled, and time seemed to slow. A ring of¡­I didn¡¯t even know how I knew there was a ring, it gave no light, revealed no form, barely disturbed the air currents as it passed. But a ring of something fell from the sky and landed over the Oracles. When it collided with the ground, they vanished. Not just the spirits, but Phemonoe as well. One moment there, another gone. From the way her face remained unchanged before she vanished, she hadn¡¯t realized anything amiss was happening.


    I stumbled over the boundary, but nothing happened. The Oracles, living and dead, were gone without a trace. The strange ring that had descended over them hadn¡¯t left a depression on the ground. When I scuffed my feet against the knobby stone where it had landed, my bones passed through, no invisible obstructions hiding beyond my senses. Beyond¡­huh.


    No one had ever tried to access the astral plane from Peklo, at least not to my memory. I certainly hadn¡¯t. Why would anyone ever need to? Peklo was a world unto itself, almost like a variant astral plane. But it was possible, I suppose, to access the true transcendent plane from here.


    Before I gathered my projection around me, however, the air flickered and deposited the Oracles back into Sisiranga. For a brief moment, the phantoms of the deceased Oracles grinned at me with ghoulish skulls, but then the bones faded back into their murky mists before the specters themselves waded into the river of souls.


    Phemonoe stumbled next to me, breathing hard. I caught her before she pitched onto the ground. Her smile was apologetic, although it whispered nuances that I couldn¡¯t define. Straightening her robes, she pulled herself to her full height and affected confidence. ¡°Thank you, Charax. The meeting went as well as it could have, and I¡¯ve learned all I¡¯m going to from them.¡±


    I frowned. She probably couldn¡¯t tell, but her voice had a strange echo to it, a reverberation that lowered it and gave the impression that a portion had been left behind in the astral realm and fought to escape the trap. Wisps of light trailed from her eyes as well, pale blue tails that were disturbingly close to the shade of the souls around us.


    She saw my scowl and touched her cheek. ¡°What? Is there something on my face?¡±

 Chapter 78: The Ring

    We made our way back up the tunnels in relative silence. I hadn¡¯t answered her question, merely spun and escorted her against the current while I pondered what had happened. She didn¡¯t press further, settling into her own comfortable silence. As we trudged uphill, I ignored the thoughts pacing at the back of my mind. I needed to get Phemonoe out, or at least under Xinva¡¯s care, and then I was going to come back and take a walk outside Peklo.


    If she really had gone to the astral plane, I needed to make sure her re-entry hadn¡¯t left a massive flare from the transition, or that the Sea Mother¡¯s corruption hadn¡¯t crept this far, or that another monster or hostile entity wasn¡¯t stalking our underworld, now that the scent had been taken beyond. Assuming it had.


    When we reached the dark bend to the first tunnel, Phemonoe tugged the elbow of my sleeve. ¡°Hey.¡±


    I paused outside the blackness and looked down at her. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Did you¡­hear the vision?¡± She masked the fear in her voice, but it leaked out through her eyes, along with a puff of that unnatural blue vapor. It had faded almost entirely, shortly after her return, but it still came in fits and spurts as we walked.


    ¡°What?¡± I scanned the spirits around us, thinking I¡¯d felt something but finding nothing amiss.


    Her eyebrows quirked down, darting out of her bangs. ¡°So if it wasn¡¯t that, what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    Tilting my head, I gave her a sideways look. ¡°You disappeared.¡±


    Bewilderment slapped her face around. ¡°What on earth are you talking about?¡±


    I turned to face her. ¡°Some kind of ring appeared, and the whole lot of you vanished from the tunnel. Almost like a¡­¡±


    Like a portal swallowed them. Whatever scowls had graced my face before paled in comparison to the one I wore now. The ring hadn¡¯t behaved like a portal. No glimpse of the realm beyond, and no other portals moved. This one had been an active agent, affecting instead of being affected. My first suspicion, the Sea Mother, made no sense, because why would she steal away Phemonoe only to send her straight back? Not to mention the changes within the Oracle that, if not beneficial, at least had not yet been malevolent.


    More of the strange light steamed from her eyes as she gave me a funny look. ¡°The machinations of the gods that I¡¯m not to be privy to?¡±


    ¡°How long were you talking with the Oracles?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, as it¡¯s hard to tell without the sun. But hours, at least.¡± A nervous laugh escaped her. ¡°You were there. I thought you were eavesdropping the whole time, despite how you kept your back to us and acted aloof.¡±


    ¡°You were gone a handful of minutes, at most, and I wasn¡¯t with you.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Concern lined her face. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t believe you, but it¡¯s hard to deny what my eyes saw.¡± Her voice grew soft as she watched my face and realized what she was saying. ¡°Oh.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what happened, but whatever it was, it wasn¡¯t real.¡± I folded my arms. ¡°Not a proper vision, because I saw what must have initiated it, and when the ring hit the ground all of you were gone. I don¡¯t know its origins or purpose, but I¡¯m going to find out.¡± Trying to keep the frustration out of my voice, I said, ¡°What was that vision you had?¡±


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    She went still. ¡°Please, don¡¯t ask about that.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°But the Oracles¨C¡±


    ¡°They are in agreement.¡± There was steel in her voice, though not malicious. ¡°I will give you what I can, but even that might be too much.¡± Emotion bowed the steel, straining her words.


    ¡°I just want to understand,¡± I said.


    Face pinched, she nodded. ¡°Most visions are a single event, maybe a few possibilities. This was a flood, dozens of potentialities all at once.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Even with the conference, I only know a few certainties. But what I do know is that the more I reveal, the fewer pleasant endings remain. Every piece brought from obscurity precludes a branch I would never prune. So please.¡±


    Well that was a rat¡¯s nest and a half. Malia might know how to untangle useful information from that knot without ruining the whole thing, but I wouldn¡¯t mess with it until we had a chance to plan. But with the Sea Mother and Paedens moving against Tingin, and Hasda¡¯s Third Trial riding its coattails, who knew when that would be. Probably not before significant portions of the vision had come to pass, but we¡¯d have to make do.


    I sighed. ¡°All right. But is there any advice you could give me, based on what you know, that might help me navigate towards those better ends?¡±


    Her eyes flitted back and forth as she chewed her lip, a very uncharacteristic tick. ¡°I¡­I¡¯m not sure.¡±


    An overenthusiastic honk startled us. Xinva poked his head into the tunnel, his glossy black eye taking us in.


    I jerked my head towards the Oracle. ¡°Keep an eye on her for a moment. I¡¯ll be right back.¡±


    Whatever protest Phemonoe had been preparing, I didn¡¯t wait around to hear. I stormed through Sisiranga, scattering spirits too slow to get out of my way. Unharmed, they re-formed in my wake and shambled on along with the Avoso. Traveling alone, it didn¡¯t take me as long to reach the third tunnel, and when I reached the spot where Phemonoe had met the Oracles I found an absence of spirits lingering. It was an unsettling sight, a blot of darkness which the river of souls should have consumed.


    But there it was.


    As I approached, I tugged at the edges of the astral plane. My projection didn¡¯t come easily, and by the time I stood in the middle of the empty space it¡¯d barely come at all. I strained against the block, but I couldn¡¯t reach the transcendent plane.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hurt yourself,¡± a soft voice whispered behind me.


    I whirled and found a tall, thin specter standing behind me. Her thin robes were several centuries out of style, but distinctly Carthian. Though shrunken, her eyes pierced me with a knowing gaze that only Oracles could achieve. What bothered me the most, though, was how clear her form was. Without my Scythe, she should¡¯ve been a washed-out blur like the other souls.


    Her smile was regal, and for a moment I wondered if she¡¯d lived during the era when diviners and royalty had been one and the same. She carried herself well, hands clasped before her as she regarded me. ¡°You won¡¯t find what you¡¯re looking for that way.¡±


    ¡°And that is?¡± I let the effort drop, although I kept the fringe of my projection on my fingertips.


    ¡°You disrupt the currents of prophecy like a stone a still pond.¡± Her eyes danced. ¡°But you have the subtlety of an elephant.¡±


    ¡°Were you among the Oracles Phemonoe met with? I¡¯m afraid I didn¡¯t recognize any of you.¡± My mind struggled to place her looks and diction. Something about her was familiar, but I couldn¡¯t figure out if she¡¯d served just before my ascension, or during the early years. She didn¡¯t quite resemble¡­


    ¡°Doune,¡± she said.


    The First Oracle. Of course.


    I grunted. ¡°You¡¯ve changed.¡±


    ¡°As have you, bony child.¡± She raised her eyebrows just a tad. ¡°You promised to put some muscle on. I see you¡¯ve done the opposite.¡±


    ¡°This is just a temporary measure.¡± I shrugged and turned back to the void. ¡°Did you see what happened?¡±


    ¡°I was there.¡± That smile of hers hid all sorts of secrets, and she wasn¡¯t sharing. ¡°I know my daughter told you not to pry, yet here you are at our doorstep with an iron bar wedge by the latch.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not prying into anything.¡± I scowled. ¡°If you talked for hours, as Phemonoe experienced, then you¡¯d know the security threat a rent between the astral plane and Peklo represents.¡±


    ¡°That place is sacred to Oracles, and well-protected.¡± Her eyes were veiled, her lips pursed. ¡°More than that, you are not privy to know, god though you are. But understand that it¡¯s no avenue for the Sea Mother to empty the coffers of our dead.¡±


    ¡°For a class whose sole purpose is to demystify, you¡¯re sure concealing a lot.¡±


    She snorted. ¡°You have only yourself to blame. It¡¯s a wonder Phemonoe could even join us, as she¡¯s no longer an Oracle.¡± Eyes narrowed, she jabbed a wispy finger at me. ¡°But you already knew that.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, an accident with consequences I¡¯ve been reminded of repeatedly already.¡± I waved her comment away. ¡°Is there nothing of use you can tell me? We¡¯re a little in the dark right now, and with conflict looming on the horizon and Phemonoe swearing herself to silence, we¡¯d appreciate all the help we can get.¡±


    Doune dimmed, her spirit fading more than receding into the river of souls. ¡°Take care of my daughter, Charax. I expect her to rejoin her sisters in one piece.¡±


    And then she was gone. Despite being no more luminous than the other souls, the light felt softer now that she¡¯d left. The absence in the river had filled behind me as we talked, although its subtle glow diminished none of the feeling that something important was missing. Scowling, I turned and headed back up the tunnel to retrieve Phemonoe, the not-Oracle with an unspeakable prophecy, and tried not to grind my teeth too hard.


    This was going to be one nasty fight.

 Chapter 79: The Garden

    After collecting Phemonoe (who hadn¡¯t warmed to the guardian goose at all in their short time together) and escorting her to her temple, I made my way across Nebesa to Malia¡¯s sanctuary. No one greeted me on the ground level, and when I descended the stairs to the subterranean courtyard, lit by flickering torches, I found nothing but statues frozen in a variety of poses. Pleading, terrified, exultant¨Cthe whole range of human emotion, captured in various stages of completion. My gorgon¡¯s petrified garden.


    ¡°In the back, dear.¡± Malia¡¯s voice rebounded through the shadows, coming from the dark archway in the wall on the opposite end of the courtyard. Scattered pillars held up the roof, disrupting the flow of statues and holding the ensconced torches.


    I ducked under a four-armed cyclops and dodged past a humanoid fox with twin tails. Their tan, stony surfaces shone in the torchlight, free of dust. A long snake with a diamondback pattern sprawled across my path, and I stepped over it with my freshly-muscled legs. Pulling the pounds back on was getting easier, thanks in part to my recently-renewed ambrosia consumption. I glared at the serpent, which was as thick as a log and twisted in a dozen different directions, neither its head nor tail visible. ¡°I thought you were going to clean some of these out. There are definitely more than last time.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault I had to make more. Sadly, I had to fill the space again.¡± There wasn¡¯t a trace of regret in her tone, and I would have been surprised if there were.


    ¡°You could at least organize them a little better.¡± A beast that was more manticore than centaur stood prominently displayed in the middle of the chamber. Whether it¡¯d been passing enough to join its equine brethren, I didn¡¯t know, but Seppo would have a conniption if he knew it was down here. He had a soft spot for centaurs, which was part of why they¡¯d risen to such prominence among the celestial citizens. I asked Malia if she¡¯d told our pantheon¡¯s head about the petrified creature, and she laughed.


    ¡°Of course not, dear. Now, would you please stop gawking? I¡¯ve nearly thawed her.¡±


    Grumbling, I wended my way around the rest of the statues and dipped through the archway. Magic tickled the back of my neck as I entered, the obfuscating darkness parting to reveal Malia¡¯s, er, ¡°de-petrification¡± chamber.


    Lazuli, still frozen from the waist up, sagged against her manacles. Thick chains linked the cuffs on her wrists to the ceiling, a ball and chain on each ankle. Angry red welts swelled on her thighs, too regular to be from the loss of feathers, because of course Malia had plucked them. No damning piles of ash or burnt smells betrayed the fate of Lazuli¡¯s former plumage, but at least her belly was still covered in down. Several plumes were bent in odd angles, and I pushed away the inkling of how they¡¯d gotten that way. It wasn¡¯t from the thawing, though.


    Bronze lamps ringed the harpy goddess, bathing her in warm light. Crackling grated against the air as the petrification receded slowly up her abdomen. Her ribs quivered, her lungs struggling to pull breath, but with her head still frozen no air could get in.


    Malia peeled herself off the wall, snapping her own feathers into place with a flick of her wings. Face proud, she strutted around from behind the harpy and jabbed her ribs as she passed. ¡°Glad you could make it.¡±


    ¡°I hope you remembered that we want her in one piece.¡± I glanced down at Lazuli¡¯s legs, then back at Malia. She was certainly feeling better, and the cuts that had split her face were nearly gone. Based on the energy she was exuding, she was nearly back to normal.


    ¡°Her legs showed signs of numbness, so I applied some stimulation.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± I frowned as the stone flaked off her chest, cracking like dried mud as it shed from her shoulders and neck. The chains clanked as Lazuli struggled, jerking against her restraints. When she started kicking, I took a step back, out of range. The leg restraints kept her from reaching too far, but the way the balls grated against the floor made me disinclined to test the theory that she didn¡¯t have the strength to move them.


    Malia wrapped a wing around me as she settled against my side. ¡°How was Peklo?¡±


    ¡°Dark, humid, disturbing, the usual.¡± I muttered some other complaints, then explained the whole branching prophecy situation. Her snakes tickled my shoulder with their tongues as I talked, adding their annoyance to my own.


    When I finished, Malia hummed. ¡°And she¡¯s unlikely to tell me anything, either.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°At first I suspected it was because the prophecy involved me somehow, or Hasda, and that¡¯s why she didn¡¯t want to tell me, but I¡¯m starting to think it¡¯s bigger than the Trials. Tamiyat would be an obvious topic, but if it involves the Sea Mother, why not tell us as much? We already know about her, so there being yet another vision wouldn¡¯t be that strange.¡±


    ¡°Likely it encompasses the entire pantheon.¡± Malia¡¯s eyes caught in the lamplight as she watched the petrification peel off Lazuli¡¯s beak. The kite harpy gulped air as if she¡¯d been underwater far too long, her body shuddering. Malia smiled. ¡°Or perhaps something bigger than Tamiyat.¡±


    ¡°Like the¡­?¡± We didn¡¯t even have a word for them yet, the Sybil, Spinster, and their two nameless sisters.


    Malia nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a possibility.¡±


    Lazuli lunged forward and snapped her beak. The crumbling stone still covered the upper half of her head like a falconer¡¯s hood. ¡°Foreign scum! Release me at once.¡±


    ¡°Looks like someone¡¯s finally awake.¡± Malia¡¯s fangs showed through her smile as she slid towards the kite. ¡°Have a nice nap, little bird?¡±


    Keeping one eye on Lazuli, I touched the edge of the astral plane, as Malia was likely doing as well. It was far easier to contact it here than in Peklo, although I didn¡¯t actually need to breach it here. Just to keep an eye on it and watch for disturbances.


    ¡°Where is she?¡± Lazuli snapped. Her beak pointed straight at Malia.


    ¡°Right here,¡± Malia said.


    Chunks of rock and dust crumbled to the floor as Lazuli shook her wings free. ¡°Not you, bitch. The Paeden.¡±


    Malia¡¯s tail stopped an inch from Lazuli¡¯s stomach. Gathering herself, she gave Lazuli a quizzical look. ¡°¡®The¡¯ Paeden? You mean Marudak?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s obsessed with the Paedens¡¯ Queen of the Sea, Nanshe,¡± I said in a hushed whisper.


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Lazuli snarled. ¡°He can drink piss, for all I care. But that broad-mantled whore¨C¡± Her words devolved into a string of eldritch phrases we could barely understand, but the closest root words carried connotations of marine rock sludge, unbridled promiscuity, and feces.


    Pleasant.


    The last of her cranial petrification fell away as she finished her tirade. Her dark eyes, rage roiling in her irises, locked on mine. Tilting her head, she said, ¡°I remember you. You promised to bring her to me.¡± Her beak clicked. ¡°Where is she?¡±


    ¡°Misplaced her.¡± I folded my arms and stared her down. ¡°We have some questions regarding your former relationship with the primordial deity known as the Sea Mother.¡±


    Eyes narrowed, she tucked her wings and hunched over. Clenching her fists, she strained against the chains, but stayed stuck. Another yank, and nothing but the rattle of steel on celestial steel. Grunting, she flared her wings and arched her back, face scrunched. A thin, purple thread floated from her back, its end drifting into the edge of the astral plane. When it brushed the film of the higher dimension, Lazuli¡¯s eyes snapped open.


    ¡°There,¡± she said, chirping in triumph.


    Malia and I waited, our fingers on the proverbial heartbeat of the astral realm.


    No answering call came.


    ¡°Seems like your patron abandoned you.¡± Malia¡¯s grin was feral. ¡°But thanks for letting her know we¡¯re on our way, herald.¡±


    ¡°How dare you!¡± Lazuli lunged forward. The chains ran out of length and yanked her back. Panting, Lazuli hung by her wrists and glared at Malia. ¡°I am no herald of yours. I spurn you.¡± She spit.


    Malia raised an eyebrow at me. ¡°You have the more recent experience with children.¡±


    I turned my eye roll at her into a stern face to Lazuli. Bending over, I put myself at her eye level. ¡°Like I said, your ¡®former¡¯ relationship. We need to know how she made you her proxy, and how¨C¡±


    Her piercing laugh, almost a raptor shriek, rent the air. ¡°Unlearned simpleton,¡± she squealed. ¡°You know nothing of the madness of the Ancient Mother. Locked, forever, next to her vastness, the tides of lunacy washing over the mind, unrelenting.¡± Another peal of laughter. ¡°Make? There is no make. Does one make the sun? The wind? One might more easily make the rivers flow. Make.¡± She spat the last word and speared me with her dark eyes. ¡°In that pit, things are. What was before matters not, in the after of the pit.¡± Her face hardened. ¡°And I will slay the hibara that threw me in there.¡±

 Chapter 80: The Negotiation

    Malia thumped the ground with her tail as she regarded the kite harpy. ¡°Well,¡± she said, ¡°if you have nothing left to offer, then we have no more need of you.¡±


    ¡°What I offer?¡± Lazuli jerked against her chains. ¡°What I am owed, rather. I was promised the blind bitch, and I will have her.¡±


    ¡°You will watch your mouth, is what you will do.¡± I stepped between her and Malia, gently pushing my wife back as I did.


    Malia gave me a slightly pouty frown but slid back. ¡°She¡¯s not going to be cooperative. Let me cut her loose or put her back.¡±


    ¡°Yes, release me!¡± Lazuli¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Set me free, and I will hunt down that squelchling and shred her limb from limb.¡±


    ¡°You really need a personality,¡± I said.


    Her chains clanked as she pushed against their limits. ¡°Of course I will personally end her. I wouldn¡¯t leave that to a lesser.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not¡­¡± I sighed.


    Malia folded her arms and assessed Lazuli. ¡°If we do, you¡¯ll cooperate fully, answer any questions we ask, and remain within whatever confines we place on you?¡±


    ¡°So long as I am free to crush my fingers around that slimy shamhat¡¯s throat.¡± Her fierce eyes met Malia¡¯s calculating gaze. ¡°But you must swear an oath to me, that you will uphold your end of the covenant. I will not fall for such lies again.¡±


    ¡°I could put you back, you know.¡± Malia drummed her fingers on her arm, but she hadn¡¯t set any weight behind the words. ¡°Seems to me like you stand to gain far more from this bargain.¡±


    ¡°You crave knowledge I alone possess.¡± She tittered a laugh. ¡°A fair trade, I would wager.¡±


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s get one thing straight.¡± I rocked forward and let my aura slip a little. It felt nice to have some power behind me now, unlike the last time we faced off. ¡°We don¡¯t need whatever you have to offer. It would be convenient if we knew, but essential to our plans? Far from it. You, on the other hand¡±¨CI pointed a finger at her¨C¡°have a visceral need to exact your revenge. So we need something else to balance the scales.¡±


    ¡°I am patient.¡± Lazuli huffed and swung back on her chains. ¡°It matters not, the when, to me. But I sense urgency behind your desire. You cannot convince me otherwise.¡±


    Malia tapped her jaw. ¡°I could always eat her.¡±


    ¡°You feeling up to that?¡± I shot her a look.


    She smiled. ¡°Always. That asshole who messed up my face was a far cry from filling.¡±


    Lazuli scoffed. ¡°Then how would you get what you want? My knowledge isn¡¯t edible.¡±


    ¡°No, but you are.¡± Malia flared her wings and slithered up to the harpy, setting a hand on her feathers. As she did, she brushed the astral plane and teased it open behind her. ¡°Ready?¡±


    ¡°On you.¡± I slipped my hands into the higher dimension as Malia dragged Lazuli out of her chains and into the transcendent realm.


    We assumed our projections at the same time, Malia¡¯s blossoming into her starry gorgon form and mine ratcheting together into a rickety skeleton. To my surprise, I had some mass as well, the most solid avatar I¡¯d achieved on my own in ages. It felt good, the weight of my limbs, the set of my feet. Malia gave me a pleased smile and flared the auroras of her wings.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Lazuli screamed. Floating at the bend of Malia¡¯s tail, the harpy thrashed on the analogue of ground. Space dust and the ashes of stars swirled around her as she keened, nearly shrieking herself hoarse the moment she arrived. The purple thread whipped around her chaotic wings, curving in crazy angles with no distant anchor to straighten it. Tamiyat really had severed their connection.


    ¡°Perhaps you¡¯ll be more amenable to conversation now.¡± Malia poked the shrieking harpy. ¡°Get up.¡±


    Her eyes rolled, her screams reaching a fevered pitch.


    Malia scowled. ¡°Pull yourself together. Are you a goddess or what?¡±


    ¡°Malia.¡± I stepped forward and set my pulsing hand over the kite. Wrapping my fingers under her wings, I scooped her up and cupped my hands over her. She beat against my palms like a trapped moth, no reasoned intent behind her movements. The cries diminished, but only slightly. As I shifted to a more comfortable position, I realized that the abrasive texture of the astral plane around Nebesa had gotten worse, but not so severe that I noticed it when we transitioned. To Lazuli, however, without a projection of her own, it must have felt unbelievably caustic. ¡°She¡¯s in her divine form, sustaining her own existence here. Even Phemonoe had my support.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Rolling her eyes, Malia slithered over and glared down at the hidden harpy. ¡°Let me see her.¡±


    I cracked my hand, and Lazuli nearly bounced it. Rebounding off my thumb, the harpy settled for whimpering and rolling around on my palm. Malia bent over and breathed on the kite, enveloping her in a thin, protective membrane. The shrieking swerved into a torrent of eldritch pleas.


    Malia snatched her out of my hand and held her a finger width from her nose. ¡°Stop sniveling. Die with some dignity, at least.¡±


    Lazuli grew still, pinched between Malia¡¯s fingers. ¡°You¡¯re not the Sea Mother.¡± That wasn¡¯t exactly what she said, since she uttered Tamiyat¡¯s eldritch name in a small voice, but the name meshed with the warped space and made its meaning plain. At the utterance of the Sea Mother¡¯s ancient title, the purple thread quivered. The end still connected to Lazuli burrowed into the harpy, spreading like a black stain.


    I grabbed the free end and clasped it in my fist. The cord frayed, the fibers twisting and seeking against the folds of my palm. On a hunch, I quested down the thread and felt channels directly to Lazuli¡¯s spirit. But the connection rejected me, the purple line corkscrewing as it recoiled from me and wound on her back. The bundle settled just below the base of her wings, a dull light pulsing along its length.


    Lazuli quivered a little when I pressed my senses down the thread, but she didn¡¯t react when the cord coiled itself on her spine.


    Malia gave me a questioning look.


    I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s as normal as a transcendent puppet string can be. Avatar channels, but no indication of how it was attached in the first place. But it¡¯s not connected to Tamiyat at the moment, and I couldn¡¯t sense a pathway to her.¡±


    ¡°Answer me this, kite.¡± Malia brought the full weight of her voice down on Lazuli as she leveled an even heavier stare. ¡°If we let you kill the Paeden goddess, what then? What meaning will you give your life, with your driving force gone?¡±


    ¡°You expect me to ever fully kill her?¡± Lazuli barked a laugh and shook her head. ¡°No, her existence will never end. I will bind her, as the Sea Mother once was, and torment her until she or I fade.¡±


    ¡°Charming.¡± Malia¡¯s tail swished back and forth across the starfield. Frowning, she glanced up at me. ¡°Can we use her?¡±


    ¡°That depends on her,¡± I rumbled. ¡°Considering how quickly she tried to reconnect with Tamiyat, she¡¯s likely to renege any feigned fealty to us the moment she¡¯s in close proximity to the eldritch goddess.¡±


    ¡°My word is far more trustworthy than yours, Carthian scum,¡± Lazuli hissed.


    ¡°You have an unnatural dedication to destroying Nanshe,¡± Malia said, shaking the kite. ¡°Even given your backstory, making vengeance the whole of your identity casts doubt on your words and intentions. With no variance in your articulated ideas, how are we to know you won¡¯t just say whatever will get you free? Whether that be to return to the Sea Mother or wreak havoc upon the goddess you despise.¡±


    ¡°Have you felt the madness of my Mother? Truly felt it.¡± Lazuli¡¯s voice was soft, but her eyes were hard. ¡°Nothing survives her scouring of your soul. You find the one thing that will anchor you and you cling to it, or you drown. Sometimes, you drown regardless.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s it.¡± Malia sounded thoroughly convinced. ¡°You just went insane from the constant exposure to Tamiyat¡¯s aura, boiled away to an ¡®essense¡¯ of kill, kill, kill, and when that wasn¡¯t enough, you bound yourself to the very thing driving you mad.¡±


    Lazuli cackled. ¡°Ages upon ages will wear anyone down, even the strongest god. And I was never the strongest.¡± The protective yellow haze fluttered against her breath. ¡°It was an end to madness.¡±


    I snorted.


    Lazuli twisted in Malia¡¯s fingers, leveling her sharp gaze at me. ¡°You find humor in this?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a horrible actor.¡± I grinned at her scowl. ¡°You might have convinced me, if I hadn¡¯t seen you before. The power radiating off you, the glee in your eyes as you led the assault. You reveled in your submission to the Sea Mother. And when we unbound you, you went straight back to her, even knowing your connection had been severed.¡± I shook my head. ¡°You can¡¯t even hide behind your excuse that it was an ends to a means. The sheer exultation on your face from being awash with her power, that was your true emotions bared. I might have argued in your favor if you weren¡¯t such a terrible liar.¡±


    ¡°I can still eat her,¡± Malia said.


    Lazuli exploded in shouts and rage. ¡°Fine! Disbelieve me, devour me, dump me in your shit¨CI don¡¯t care. But I will drown that harlot¡¯s gills with her own blood before I meet my end.¡±


    I stared at the flailing harpy. Sighing, I shook my head at Malia. ¡°Put her back.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± The arm of a galaxy crept up her forehead, in place of an eyebrow.


    I nodded and tugged at our bond in a way that conveyed we would talk further, when Lazuli couldn¡¯t hear us.


    Rolling her starry eyes, Malia twisted the kite around. Constellations twinkled as she prepared her face to gaze. ¡°Smile.¡±

 Chapter 81: The Engagement

    After the expansive astral plane, the calm familiarity of the fountain was a nice change. Lazuli had been frozen mid-shriek, much to Malia¡¯s pleasure, and we¡¯d headed to our maas after depositing the harpy among the other statues in Malia¡¯s basement. Couriers had been sent to Hasda and Phaeus that training was ended and the lad should prepare to travel. Since this wasn¡¯t an actual Trial, there¡¯d be no announcements or celebratory feasts, which was fine by me.


    Malia was almost back to full strength, but she¡¯d strained herself petrifying Lazuli. So we rested by the fountain, Malia bathing her face with its healing waters, as we made our final preparations.


    ¡°Ready to tell me why I shouldn¡¯t eat the pigeon now?¡± Malia said around a splash of water.


    I chuckled and leaned back on the fountain stones. ¡°Vehemence like that is hard to come by. It¡¯d be a waste to just throw her away like that.¡±


    Pausing her washing, Malia spread her fingers and scowled at me through them. ¡°Seriously?¡±


    ¡°And¡­¡± I held up a finger to forestall any more reprimands. ¡°The Sea Mother and her mate were bound in similar configurations. It¡¯s very likely that Jade not only knows Lazuli, but they were once friends as well. Maybe Jade could help us, er, ¡®de-fang¡¯ her.¡±


    Malia humphed. Water stained my robes as she poked me, not bothering to dry her hands. ¡°This is why I give you all the strays.¡±


    Smiling, I grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. ¡°And this is why I keep you from being needlessly wasteful.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of waste.¡± She brushed her knuckles against my jaw. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear a word out of you about my next surprise.¡±


    She had that mischievous gleam in her eyes again. I narrowed my own at her. ¡°What did you do this time?¡±


    Grinning, she splashed more water across her face. ¡°Well, it wouldn¡¯t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?¡±


    I grunted and shoved off the stone. ¡°Something more than getting Hasda a minor posting in the army before he¡¯s able to lead?¡±


    She hummed as she let her wings sag, exposing her shoulders. I set to work, massaging the knots out of her muscles, and she was practically purring in minutes. ¡°Mmm, of course something else. Even if you didn¡¯t know about it, that might surprise you, but it wouldn¡¯t be your surprise.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± I didn¡¯t press any further. Malia would never tell me what it was. If I could figure it out on my own, or discover it before the big reveal, that was fair game, but I¡¯d never gotten her to crack. A smile slid across my face. Although I had pulled my own secrets over her during the centuries, the best one being my proposal to her. We¡¯d been paired for a while, unofficially, but all the years of subterfuge and careful planning had paid off with the most priceless expression on her face when I¡¯d popped the question. That had been centuries ago, and the memory still rewarded me with warm, fuzzy feelings.


    ¡°You¡¯re thinking too loud,¡± Malia said. Eyes closed, she tilted her head to the side. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Oh, just remembering that night on Carthia Major, all those years ago.¡±


    ¡°You were an absolute ass.¡± Her hair snakes hissed at me in mock annoyance.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°You still said yes.¡± I smiled.


    ¡°And a crazier decision I¡¯ve never made since.¡± Her cheeks dimpled from her grin. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I didn¡¯t raze the lot of them. I almost didn¡¯t recognize that it was a mock invasion.¡±


    ¡°Was it the¨C¡±


    ¡°¨C¡®the way the fires didn¡¯t consume the city, or the chants praising the Gorgon Queen of Carthia?¡¯¡± she said, echoing the words she¡¯d heard dozens of times before. ¡°No, dear. It was the sheer bafflement that you could¡¯ve been so incompetent to let such a force that close to the main island.¡±


    I kissed her ear. ¡°I pulled the earth out from under you so completely, you couldn¡¯t help but say yes.¡±


    ¡°Smug bastard.¡± She sighed happily and leaned back. ¡°We do need to talk about Tingin.¡±


    I kept massaging her shoulders. A particularly stubborn knot refused to budge. ¡°What about it?¡±


    She gave me a serious look over her shoulder. ¡°There''s a very real possibility that Jade is no longer in the region, and that we won''t be able to recover her. The Sea Mother might not need her to free her mate. We also don''t know whether Jade is the ¡®best option¡¯ or ¡®only option.¡¯ And if she¡¯s the latter, the Paedens might off her rather than let Tamiyat take her.¡±


    ¡°I''m prepared for that.¡±


    She gave a long, sad sigh. ¡°Is Hasda?¡±


    I frowned. ¡°He''s a smart lad.¡±


    ¡°But it might be a good idea to make sure he understands. He needs to keep his head about him during battle and let us worry about Jade.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I''ll talk to him on the way.¡±


    A crack as a portal opened startled us. Sun-bleached hair frazzled, Phaeus stumbled into the maas ahead of a cloud of smoke. He gave an apologetic smile as we stared at him.


    ¡°Er, sorry to interrupt your¡­private time.¡± He brushed his hands on his worn, leather apron. ¡°I need to talk to you about Hasda¡¯s armor.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t fix it?¡± I tried to keep rubbing Malia¡¯s shoulders, but she shrugged out from under me to stare at the dwarf blacksmith. With nothing to occupy my hands, I folded my arms.


    ¡°Not quite.¡± He slid a ball-peen hammer from an apron pocket and slapped the peen against his palm in a slow rhythm. ¡°That djinn of his, do you trust it?¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Malia said, baring her fangs.


    ¡°I had a talk with it,¡± I added. ¡°It¡¯s confined to purely beneficial behavior, including not allowing harm by omission of aid.¡±


    Phaeus blinked. ¡°How did you manage that?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Like I said, we had a chat. Still, a healthy dose of skepticism where the djinn is involved.¡±


    ¡°Right, well.¡± The hammer went back to plapping against his thick hand. ¡°Whatever material it used to bridge the tear, I¡¯ve never seen before. It held up under my hand and seemed durable enough, so I left it well enough alone, but it¡¯s started spreading.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡± Malia asked, her brow furrowing.


    ¡°Like a termite infestation.¡± Phaeus¡¯ mouth twisted in disgust. ¡°It¡¯s eating its way through the core of the armor. Not quite hollowing it, because the plate rings with a two-tone that sings about the new metal inside the steel, but it doesn¡¯t sit right with me.¡±


    ¡°Will it keep him safe?¡± I said.


    Phaeus pursed his lips and smacked his hammer a little harder. ¡°I think so. But unless I could carve a chunk of the djinn¡¯s material out and run further tests, I won¡¯t know its full limits.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you?¡± Malia flicked her wings once, a hand on her chin.


    ¡°Because¨C¡± He winced as he hit his hand a little too hard. ¡°For starters, I don¡¯t want to compromise the armor¡¯s integrity any more than it¡¯s already been. The djinn¡¯s stuff has held up well enough under duress, based on the sorry state you brought it back in, and I¡¯m not sure I could take a piece out, even if I wanted to. It seems tied to the djinn itself, so there¡¯s a chance carving into it could hurt the djinn and, by extension, Hasda.¡±


    Malia and I had both been on the verge of suggesting he try anyway until he mentioned that last part. Her scowl mirrored my own.


    ¡°So,¡± she said, ¡°the bad news is his armor is being changed from the inside out. What are the benefits? If the djinn is being genuinely helpful, and not simply acting in a way he convinced himself is good, then there has to be a reason why he¡¯s modifying Hasda¡¯s protective gear.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t say for certain.¡± He pulled on a glove to cushion the increased agitation leaking through his hammer. ¡°I¡¯m hesitant to call it inferior celestial steel, because I¡¯m certain it¡¯s better than mortal metals and not as good as divine. But it¡¯s never displayed any magical attributes or enhancing capabilities, even when the djinn came out.¡±


    The burbling fountain served as a counterweight to the strain of my thoughts tugging at one another. My own observations during Hasda¡¯s Second Trial concurred with Phaeus¡¯ assessment. It had been the djinn that had empowered Hasda, and not the strange, fleshy metal that had faded from the ugly, scar-tissue purple to a pale lavender as the surface had smoothed. If the weaponsmith thought the structural integrity of the armor hadn¡¯t been impaired, then it would still keep Hasda safe. I trusted Phaeus¡¯ assessment more than the djinn¡¯s coerced oath.


    But that left us with the uncomfortable why. I¡¯d never heard of a djinn absorbing or replacing its vessel like this, so unless this was a natural consequence of the djinn being forced to repair the armor it had bonded to, then the supplanting had intent behind it. Even if the djinn had told the truth, and he was wholly constrained to helping Hasda, I would still need to keep an eye on my boy during this next excursion. No reason to let him suffer because his armor suddenly failed.

 Chapter 82: The Practice

    Phaeus and Malia left me to collect Hasda on my own. Other than Seppo, I wasn¡¯t sure who was joining us this time, but Malia would likely have them well-versed in whatever dance she¡¯d planned by the time we caught up. I found Hasda in the training grounds behind Phaeus¡¯ forge, the lad in full armor wailing away at a wooden dummy. His practice sword had chipped along both edges from the force of his blows, and a pile of shattered ones lay by the rough picket fencing that ringed the dusty pit.


    He wiped the sweat off his cheeks as I entered the ring. ¡°Time to go?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Where¡¯s the djinn?¡±


    ¡°In here, like always.¡± He rapped the chestplate.


    I couldn¡¯t see any tell of the internal change Phaeus had told us about. The lavender scar of the repaired rend hadn¡¯t gotten any wider, no spots or discoloration showed on the metal¡¯s surface, and the curve and size of the plate had remained the same. Planting my feet, I jerked a nod at the scarred armor. ¡°Bring him out.¡±


    Sosa emerged like steam from a kettle. ¡°Yes, m¡¯lord?¡±


    ¡°Drop the sass, djinn.¡± I folded my arms and stared down the grinning purple cloud. ¡°I want to know about these changes you¡¯ve been making to Hasda¡¯s armor and why.¡±


    ¡°Shhhh,¡± the djinn hissed. ¡°Don¡¯t spoil the surprise!¡±


    ¡°What surprise?¡± Hasda asked, confused.


    I shook my head. ¡°No surprises when he¡¯s involved. I need to ensure you¡¯re not weaseling around your oath.¡±


    ¡°As if I could,¡± Sosa snapped. The haze above his eye dimples darkened as he frowned. ¡°But an inopportune explanation for the impatient deity, since you insist. Our battle against Nakula¨Cthe ¡®mongoose,¡¯ as you so gracefully named him¨Cwe achieved an elevated state. Do you remember?¡±


    I narrowed my eyes. Where was it going with this?


    ¡°Parlor tricks.¡± He waved a misty hand. ¡°We will soar, when the armor is transformed.¡±


    ¡°And how does eating his armor from the inside out enable you to link together better?¡± My scowl deepened. ¡°Further, based on the nature of your bond, how can strengthening that not violate your word to protect Hasda?¡±


    ¡°It is a fine line to walk, and one made no easier by you second-guessing my every move.¡± Sosa floated behind Hasda, his tail trailing around his shoulder to its origin in the scar. ¡°I cannot offer aid to the fullest of my abilities without drawing us closer together. Per my oath, I fuel myself as much as possible for the least extraction.¡± It laid an incorporeal hand on Hasda¡¯s shoulder. ¡°When this armor is converted, not only will it be stronger than the mere mortal metal it once was, but it will also resonate with my spirit, allowing me to better channel myself to Hasda. The more efficient our union, the less of his spirit I must siphon to properly serve him.¡±


    Something felt off about the djinn¡¯s explanation, but I couldn¡¯t put my finger on it. My gut warned me about an ulterior motive, a feeling I trusted. But other than the ¡®resonance chamber¡¯ being actually bad, or good with downsides or however the djinn was spinning it, I didn¡¯t have anything I could pin the djinn with.


    But I would still keep a close eye on him.


    ¡°Fine. But one sign of untowardness, and I¡¯m taking you out of there.¡±


    ¡°Even mid-battle, when our bond is all that¡¯s keeping him alive?¡± His face was smug.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    I cracked my knuckles. ¡°You¡¯re right. Better now than later.¡±


    The djinn hissed and hid behind Hasda. ¡°No sense of humor.¡±


    ¡°Be nice, both of you.¡± The look Hasda gave the djinn was pure admonishment.


    ¡°It knows I¡¯ll uphold my end of the bargain.¡± I flicked my hand at Sosa. ¡°Begone. I need to have a word with my son, and your itching ears shall keep themselves away.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll just hear about it later,¡± the djinn muttered as it puffed back into the armor.


    When it was gone, I sighed and motioned for Hasda to follow. He fell into step as we left the arena, dropping his battered sword on the way out on the pile of broken ones.


    ¡°How many did you go through?¡± I asked.


    Hasda gave an embarrassed laugh. ¡°I stopped counting after the fifth one.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to find you a proper sparring partner after this trip.¡± It was easier, this chatter about the small, inconsequential things, than the topic we needed to discuss. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you weren¡¯t using blunted steel.¡±


    ¡°I was, before Phaeus left. But I didn¡¯t think the wood would withstand the dull swords.¡± He scratched the back of his neck. ¡°I¡¯ve, uh, gotten a bit stronger.¡±


    ¡°A bit?¡± We shared a laugh. Smiling, I patted his shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ve certainly grown, and I¡¯m proud of you.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± He beamed.


    The smoke from the forge drifted over the hill ahead of us. We were far enough away that the sounds of forgework didn¡¯t reach us, but Phaeus burned enough charcoal that the sooty stench seemed steeped into the surrounding land. At least the distance and the day¡¯s breeze softened the smell, this far out.


    ¡°So¡­¡± I let the word hang between us, sluggish to grab the transition.


    ¡°So.¡± Hasda was firmer in his word than I was, his steps sure. ¡°We¡¯re heading to Tingid?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°The Paedens have re-opened their dispute of our control there. You¡¯ll be leading your first command once we arrive. This isn¡¯t a Trial, so Malia and I will be supporting you as needed, although we might be engaged by the Paeden deities, so you¡¯ll need some level of self-sufficiency.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    We stumped along, cresting the hill that hid the forge from us. The conversation sagged like dew-laden laundry. Hasda kept glancing at me as we went down the other side of the hill.


    When we reached the bottom, he said, ¡°Is there something else you wanted to talk about?¡±


    Obviously. ¡°What makes you say that?¡±


    ¡°The fact that we¡¯re still walking?¡± He twirled a hand in the air. ¡°The way you acted to Sosa, and the lack of an open portal even though we¡¯re supposed to be hurrying to a battle over the borderlands.¡±


    I grunted. More of me had rubbed off on him than I¡¯d noticed. That head would serve him well in command, so long as he learned to read the signs and shift his strategy accordingly. Slowing my steps, I sighed and folded my arms. ¡°There¡¯s something you need to know about Tingid.¡±


    ¡°They have Jade?¡± His sharp eyes met mine.


    ¡°Yes.¡± I frowned. ¡°But we don¡¯t know if she¡¯s still in the region or if they¡¯ve taken her elsewhere. The Sea Mother is moving to liberate her imprisoned mate, so stopping her is our first priority.¡± Sighing, I put a hand on his armored shoulder. ¡°I know you care about her, and we will save her, if we can, but there¡¯s a possibility that we can¡¯t. The worst case is we¡¯re forced to destroy her.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± His face pinched. Emotions surged under that look, but he kept them inside. The worry and fear still slipped out.


    I really hated this. ¡°Because the Sea Mother might transform her into her proxy. Right now, that eldritch goddess is stuck in a realm beyond ours. A proxy would give her a way to more directly influence our world. It might even be her only key to freeing her mate. So if Jade gets turned, we¡¯ll have to put her down.¡±


    ¡°Must we?¡± The pain that cracked his voice was awful to hear.


    I scowled at the forge. It hurt to look at his face. ¡°Only as a last resort. But a lot will have to go wrong before we even face that decision.¡± Steeling myself, I glanced back at him, but only sideways. ¡°Odds are, it won¡¯t come to that. We¡¯re hoping that the severity of the threat will force the Paedens to work with us, so we don¡¯t have to fight each other as well as Tamiyat. With her active in the world again, however, it¡¯s unlikely the Paedens will ever cede Tingid back to us.¡±


    ¡°Jade could defend it.¡± He sounded so confident.


    ¡°Against another minor god, perhaps. But against their whole pantheon?¡± I shook my head. ¡°The Paedens had been merely pilgrimaging to Tingid before, and that inconsistently. With the forces they keep bringing, it¡¯s likely they¡¯ll build a settlement of some kind so they can sustain harassment of our borders. Depending on how determined they are and what resources they can bring, it¡¯s likely to go well beyond Jade¡¯s capabilities. But we have to get her back and turn the Sea Mother away before that can happen.¡±


    ¡°So let¡¯s do it.¡± He gave me a firm smile and blinked at the wetness pooling in the corners of his eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get your hopes up.¡± Hard words, but they had to be said. ¡°Primordial gods possess more power than anyone you¡¯ve met, even Malia and I. If a fight breaks out between the gods and the Sea Mother, it will take all of us working together to even hope to compete with her strength. Your objectives will be leading your troops, deflecting any Paeden thrusts into Tingid and the surrounding forest, and keeping as many of your soldiers alive as you can. Do not, under any circumstances, engage foreign deities, especially Tamiyat. Understood?¡±


    He jerked a nod. ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I pulled him into a hug before opening my portal. ¡°Keep yourself safe, too.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    I plastered on a smile as we separated and went through the portal. It felt far too final a conversation for something that was, for Hasda, a simple training exercise. But the weight of the looming confrontation with both pantheons, the Paeden and the eldritch, made the air heavy. The only bright spot was that the Sea Mother was still confined to the astral plane, so perhaps driving her off wouldn¡¯t be as difficult as if she¡¯d had unbridled access to the mortal realm.


    Perhaps.

 Chapter 83: The Arrival

    Rain blanketed the mountains of Tingid.


    We stepped through the portal and scurried into the safety of the trees, Malia whisking a treated cloak over Hasda¡¯s shoulders before pulling the Veil over ours. As important as this confrontation was, in the end it¡¯d been decided that only Seppo would accompany us into the region, but approaching separately from the west. With Kydon already here on the Carthians¡¯ behalf, we couldn¡¯t risk moving too much of our pantheon until things had devolved into war proper.


    Of the Seated, Synnefo might join us later, and hopefully sooner, given the cheery weather we were experiencing. There was a pressure in my sinuses that wasn¡¯t entirely from the air pressure, though, a portent of either the Sea Mother¡¯s imminent arrival or the influence of the Paeden weather god. Thane would need less time to heal than Malia, but Seppo judged his presence more needed in Aenea than Tingid, so he would travel south with Azoria once he was back in fighting shape to help Resef and Vrixia. Tarrha, never one to dirty her hands in politics, was off fornicating with whatever lover or concubine she¡¯d conscripted this time, and Ulti had likely galavanted off beyond the mountains with the clouds relieving them of their sunshine duty. We would only bring the other Unseated major and rising minor gods into the fray if things got really messy.


    Against the full might of an eldritch goddess, though, we might not survive long enough to summon them. But Tamiyat, despite how powerful she was, had yet to reclaim that level of strength. And if the Paedens were open to diplomacy, we could perhaps avert such a crisis entirely. That had been the running hope, and even if we found the Paedens fully arrayed against us, it was a hope we still had to cling to.


    Bleating goats caught my attention. When I glanced at Malia, her frown melted into a grin like the sun breaking through these accursed rainclouds.


    ¡°Maybe we can share the wealth a little,¡± she said, eyes glinting.


    Brows lifted, I tilted my head at her. ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve used the beasts in jest enough. For once, they could be used in earnest.¡± Her wings twitched at the rain that slipped through the foliage.


    The thought of a herd of goats, clattering with swords or pans as they charged through the night at the Paedens, brought a smile to my lips. ¡°Perhaps they could.¡±


    ¡°The tiger is still here, right?¡± Hasda¡¯s step squelched in a pile of leaves.


    I nodded. ¡°It remained in the region as the guardian of the miners.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t sense it.¡±


    Malia and I shared a look. Her smile reassuring, she slid to his left, positioning him between us. ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s fine. Divine beasts are strong and resilient things. It¡¯s probably hiding deep in the mines.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°I could still sense it then. But I can¡¯t feel anything.¡±


    I frowned. In addition to being able to communicate with any animal, Beast Whisperers could often sense the aura of divine beasts. This let them sense the creature¡¯s mood, health, and any injuries, which was especially helpful with the less communicative divine beasts. The Kydonian tiger had allowed itself to be associated with Jade, sharing Tingid with her, and the fact that both the tiger and the goddess were missing was a bad sign.


    ¡°Can you make out anything else? Or is it just gone?¡± I asked.


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    The clanking of his armor was dull beneath his raincloack. ¡°No, it¡¯s just¡­¡± He trailed off, his gaze distant, as if he were staring through the hillside. ¡°There is something faint, but it¡¯s far off.¡±


    ¡°Like an afterimage?¡± Scowling, Malia flicked damp, cloying leaves off her tail.


    ¡°Nothing like that.¡± His lips pressed together in a thin line. ¡°It reminds me of the mongoose a bit, but in a strange way. Like how grapes and songs can both be sour.¡±


    ¡°I would never call a song ¡®sour,¡¯¡± Malia said, examining the back of her hand. ¡°But I understand. So another Paeden creature?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± His brow furrowed as he stared at the distant mountain. ¡°It¡¯s far enough away that it¡¯s hard to gauge anything about it.¡±


    I patted his shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll worry about that when the time comes. In the meantime, I believe you have some soldiers to meet.¡±


    And he did. When we arrived just outside the village, making good time despite the rain, a handful of squads lounged around makeshift tents at the edge of the town. The miners hadn¡¯t shunned them, necessarily, but they still kept their distance from the outsiders. Kidon stood among the townspeople, hidden beneath his Veil. Scowling profusely, his face looked lined even more than the last time I¡¯d seen the wrinkly old half-troll (or whatever bloodline he actually came from). His bulk towered over the villagers, who walked through him unawares. When he noticed us, he unfolded his arms, like a beaver dam collapsing, and sauntered towards the soldiers¡¯ camp.


    They came to attention as the scout caught sight of Hasda and, to their credit, not one flinched as Kydon Unveiled himself in their midst. Carthian blues fluttered on cloaks, steeples of azure plumes adorning their helmets. Spears pierced as the handfuls of soldiers assumed positions, swords rattling in their scabbards. Kydon assumed a parade rest between them, waiting for us to approach.


    ¡°It is well that you have arrived, Gods of War.¡± His voice rumbled as he spoke. Although we hadn¡¯t Unveiled, he could see us perfectly fine, and his words made the troops stand a little straighter. I didn¡¯t like his sudden formality, but I kept my frown away. If Kydon had noticed the twitch in my face, he didn¡¯t react. ¡°I have assessed and maintained the borders of our lands, and am pleased to report that they remain intact for now. However, the lines of battle have been drawn. War has not yet been declared, given your absence, and my own attempts at diplomacy have thus far failed.¡±


    Sighing, Malia and I slipped out of our Veil and glanced over the gathered soldiers before greeting Kydon with matching ceremony. The fact that he was openly admitting to parley with the Paedens, and that he hadn¡¯t succeeded, meant the situation was dire. Being on the verge of war after communing with our divine ambassador was never a good omen. Malia and I, as the Gods of War, would meet with the Paedens after Hasda had been instated as captain of the troop.


    It was unlikely our conference would lead to any other outcome but, while the Paedens were still in a talkative mood, we would gather what intel we could before both sides were up in arms. And, given how few warriors we had available in this fringe province, we would need every advantage we could get. Once we knew what deities we were up against, we¡¯d be able to undermine or circumvent their protection to cull the enemy mortals and level the battlefield a bit.


    ¡°I trust you¡¯ve a full report on who the Paedens brought?¡± Malia bent her wings in a canopy over herself and me, shielding us against the rain.


    Kydon stood straight, statuesque in his disregard for the drizzle beading his skin. ¡°A pair of Apkalla, a handful of minor deities, and a goddess.¡± He snorted. ¡°Apparently we don¡¯t ¡®merit¡¯ sending a strong enough male deity, despite the severity of the impending threat. But, I will say that the subtext of their words was worried. It sounds as if Marudak himself may soon join their camp.¡±


    ¡°And the other matter I asked after?¡± Her eyes had a devilish glint to them that I didn¡¯t trust, a feeling exacerbated by her refusing to meet my eyes.


    The ogre dipped his head. ¡°Nearly ready. They should be here any moment, in fact.¡±


    ¡°Excellent.¡± Her snakes flicked their tongues as she nodded. ¡°Ready the men for the ceremony then, and see if we can coincide the timings.¡±


    ¡°As you wish.¡± He barked a command, and a pair of soldiers separated from the rear and sprinted off into the village, heading towards the mountain pass. Grunting, Kydon folded his arms and turned back to us. ¡°I¡¯ll get the scouts¡¯ reports before we begin the ceremony proper. As of last rotation, the Paedens were still in their camps, hiding from the rain.¡±


    I gave Malia a sideways glance as she slipped her arm around mine. ¡°What are we trying to synchronize, exactly?¡±


    ¡°Seppo is gathering a few scattered tribes from the surrounding lands to bolster our ranks.¡± Kydon gave me a questioning look. ¡°Have you not discussed tactics yet?¡±


    ¡°Certain strategies depend on the numbers present and stations available to us.¡± Malia squeezed my arm, smiling at my deflected protest. ¡°Hasda can handle the squads already in the village, but we¡¯ll need to see the way the tribes are arrayed before we can know how best to use them.¡±


    Kydon snorted. ¡°Speaking of the clansmen.¡±


    A low rumble preceded the arrival of Seppo and the tribes he¡¯d collected. A pack of half-clad warriors, not quite large enough to call a horde, emerged from the western edge of the forest. Beards and hair long, dark, and full, they wore kilts of deerskin or wolf pelts. Each chest bore a branching rune, the ruddy mud smeared on by their fellows before their march. Although their torsos were unarmored, they had leather plates strapped to their arms and thighs, tawny kite shields on their forearms, and all but a handful of archers wore helmets of engraved bronze or steel.


    Next to their evident leader, a tall man sporting braids and a rotund belly without an ounce of fat, marched Seppo. His exoskeleton clashed horribly with the aesthetic of the forest tribesmen, but he looked content to be among them. Flanking him were¡­Thane and Azoria?

 Chapter 84: The Split

    Malia gave me a sly smile as she slipped off my arm.


    I scowled as her wings went with her, which left the rain to patter against my forehead. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°No what?¡± She tried her innocent voice, but I saw right through it.


    I pointed at Thane and Azoria, who were well out of earshot. ¡°I am not taking his Office back.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Malia crossed her arms. ¡°He¡¯s in no fighting shape, and you can make better use of that power than he can. With the Sea Mother coming who knows when, you should take advantage of what time we have to acclimate yourself¨C¡±


    ¡°I said no.¡± Fool woman. This was hardly the place for such a transfer, even if both Seppo and Kydon were here to officiate it. Taking on that kind of mantle would send ripples through the countryside, not exactly the type of announcement I wanted to make with the Paedens on our doorstep.


    ¡°So you don¡¯t like your surprise.¡±


    ¡°I would hardly call it surprising, given your track record.¡±


    By this point, Seppo had noticed our little¡­disagreement, although he made no move to slow his advance. Thane and Azoria were absorbed in conversation, my former apprentice looking rather hale despite the bags under his eyes and bruises that hadn¡¯t yet started fading.


    ¡°Thane has already rescinded the Office.¡± Malia¡¯s eyes glimmered with steel as she met my confused look. ¡°Whether or not you accept it, he¡¯s no longer the God of Death.¡±


    I raised my eyebrows at her. ¡°And you¡¯re prepared to take the Scythe when I don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be such a stubborn ass,¡± she snapped. ¡°You were carrying on about how we need to take our time and heal before exerting ourselves too much, and as soon as we do, you dig your heels in when it comes to sharing the load. I¡¯d thought this was a forgone conclusion, since you stuck your neck out for Thane remaining Seated once he¡¯d abdicated. And don¡¯t even try pretending you haven¡¯t already been ferrying souls to Peklo: I saw where you put the Apkalla.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°When did you go to Peklo?¡±


    ¡°When haven¡¯t I?¡± Her eyes flashed. ¡°The point is, times change, and with them the Offices. You don¡¯t have to bear the full weight of the God of Death if you¡¯re not ready.¡±


    Malia looked far too pleased with herself.


    ¡°So, what? We Co-Seat that as well?¡± I shook my head. ¡°The pantheon is already divided enough as it is about our first cooperative division.¡±


    ¡°Our Offices are already split along our personality lines.¡± I¡¯m sure her smile was supposed to be thoughtful, but it just came across as hungry. ¡°The coarse and the fine. You, the Bludgeon of War, squashing our enemies underfoot with no regard for the particulars. And I, the elegant counterweight to your broader measures.¡±


    ¡°You mean, I¡¯m the tool, and you the mind that wields it.¡±


    She swatted my arm. ¡°Don¡¯t be daft. Just because I¡¯ve focused on subterfuge doesn¡¯t mean you lack all sense of strategy.¡±


    ¡°Does Seppo¨Cof course he knows.¡± I sighed.


    ¡°You¡¯d be full-Seated again, this way.¡± Malia surged next to me, her face eager. ¡°My Charax, returned to his former glory.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    I poked her nose. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re willing to bind yourself so tightly to us? Assuming this even works, it won¡¯t be you getting the best of both worlds, being Goddess of War and Death. You¡¯ll have to abide by the divisions you¡¯ve chosen. And it¡¯ll make us an associated pair of deities.¡±


    She laughed. ¡°More than we already are?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help my frown. She didn¡¯t seem to be taking this as seriously as she should. By taking aspects of both Offices and recombining them, we would become linked in the mythology of Carthia. It wouldn¡¯t be the same union as those Ibithian witches went through, actually transforming into a united entity, but it would inseparably link us. Like the opposite faces of a coin, which couldn¡¯t be divorced without destroying the whole. With a free spirit like Malia, I wasn¡¯t sure she could handle such a leash.


    Smiling, she stretched up and kissed my chin. ¡°You¡¯re adorable.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I can see it in your eyes.¡± Purring, she settled against me as the tribesmen neared, a spear¡¯s throw away. ¡°You¡¯re only thinking about how this will affect me, and not about yourself at all.¡±


    I scowled. ¡°Of course I am. I don¡¯t mind being closer with you, and I¡¯d have never woven my soul with yours if I did. But you¡¯d raze Nebesa at the thought of having your wings clipped.¡±


    ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t have brought it up if I weren¡¯t okay with it.¡± Her wings were soft against my arm. ¡°It¡¯s not as restricting as you think. You might have to handle some of my broader plans, but I¡¯ll gain greater precision.¡±


    I hugged her close. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re planning, but the fact that you¡¯re willing to reveal¨Cand share¨Csome of them is kind of terrifying.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why you love me.¡± Her fangs peeked through as she smiled up at me.


    Grunting, I kissed her forehead. ¡°Among other reasons.¡±


    ¡°I can see we¡¯re interrupting, so if you¡¯d like we can come back another time.¡± Seppo thumped up in a huff, although his face spoke more to exhaustion than exasperation. Despite his exoskeleton, he was sweating profusely, cheeks puffing with each breath.


    ¡°Was the journey that eventful?¡± Malia twisted against me, pulling my arm close as she folded her wings against me.


    ¡°That blasted forest is riddled with hills. Up and down, up and down.¡± His encased hands clanged against the pistons above his thighs. ¡°I am grateful this is the final ascent.¡±


    Climbing up behind him, Thane and Azoria gasped out greetings as they reached level ground. The tribesmen pulled up short, wary of cresting the rise. On cue, the Carthians marched forward, raising their fists in salute. Kydon had been nice enough to drag Hasda away while Malia and I¡­conversed, and he led the lad ahead of the soldiers as he came to welcome our head. Seppo began unloading complaints about the trip as the warriors mingled.


    ¡°So he agreed?¡± Azoria dipped her head in my direction.


    ¡°¡®He¡¯ is here and fully aware, and yes, I did¡± I said.


    ¡°Praise be.¡± Thane sagged forward, leaning on the Scythe as he summoned it. ¡°This thing is immensely heavier when it¡¯s not your symbol anymore.¡±


    Azoria helped him to stand. ¡°You bore its weight well.¡±


    ¡°Long enough.¡± He smiled at her as he straightened. His face was pale and strained, giving away his charade of full recovery. After the transfer of Office, I¡¯d send him back to Nebesa myself, if Azoria didn¡¯t beat me to it.


    Seppo and Kydon plodded over to join our informal circle.


    ¡°Are we ready to begin?¡± Folding his arm, Seppo swept his gaze from Thane to Malia to me as he settled into his place. ¡°It¡¯ll be good to have you back at full strength, old friend.¡±


    ¡°Casting stones in a pottery shop, Seppo.¡± I grunted. ¡°Are you sure the pantheon is ready for this change, though? It¡¯s a rather dramatic shift.¡±


    He waved the comment away. ¡°You two have volleyed the Office back and forth enough it only makes sense that, with both of you active again, you would share the responsibilities.¡±


    Kydon nodded in agreement.


    Malia nudged me, her face eager. ¡°Enough stalling.¡±


    Muttering, I let my arms hang loose and readied myself for the mantle of Death.


    Kydon let his arms fall as well, his face going slack as his eyes rolled back. His voice deepened, like the soothing rumble of the ocean depths. The language he intoned was archaic, the predecessor of modern Carthian, and the specific words he uttered mattered less than the ancient vows he invoked.


    Shepherds of souls, guiding them to and through the underworld. The fruit of fallen mortals gathered in our loving hands and scattered across the earth, to seed the harvest of the next generation. Whether sickness or happenstance ushered a Carthian into death, we would be there to claim and care for our own. The task was taxing, but this time, I wouldn¡¯t bear the weight alone.


    Separating from me, Malia smiled as Thane brought the Scythe forward. ¡°And now for the real surprise.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°No inauguration involving you could go without one.¡±


    She gave me the most self-satisfied smirk as she reached for the Scythe. Before her hands clutched the wood, however, the weapon trembled and then promptly shattered. Light burst from the scattered fragments of its shaft, wispy trails circling Malia¡¯s wrists. A thicker beam sped from the blade towards me, curving sharply into the ground before it would have collided with me. A sharp, brassy sound, like a struck gong, reverberated through the air.


    As the tone dissipated, the light receded, coalescing in our palms. The light in my hands resolved into the long, thin haft of a reaper¡¯s hook, the razor-like sickle curving away from my feet. Malia clasped a pair of kama, hand sickles with their blades embedded at right angles at the heads of their handles. As the Office of Death had been split between us, so too its Symbol. Mine remained closest to its original form, perfect for culling large quantities of souls. Malia¡¯s, however, seemed better suited to the singular collecting she planned to employ.


    Her face was alight with triumph. ¡°Hail to the Furies of War and Death.¡±


    ¡°May our enemies fear our names forever.¡± I couldn¡¯t keep from grinning. Not that I wanted to, though. With the familiar weight of my Scythe¨Cnow Sickle¨Cin hand, I had to admit: it felt good to be back.

 Chapter 85: The Amphora

    Hasda¡¯s commission would have been executed with more fanfare if there hadn¡¯t been an answering flare of power from beyond the mountain. Still, he received greater honor than most mortals as Seppo took his arm and led him to the waiting Carthians.


    ¡°Troops, Hasda. Hasda, troops.¡± Seppo grunted out the introduction. ¡°He¡¯ll be commanding you in the coming battle. For now, continue guarding the village and make yourselves familiar with each other.¡±


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t a declaration of war.¡± Kydon frowned at the mountain pass. ¡°She¡¯s announced herself the same way every time.¡±


    ¡°She?¡± Malia raised a questioning eyebrow at the ogre.


    Scowling, he said, ¡°Inkashi. That drunken bitch the Paedens sent as their divine emissary. Her lack of propriety as an ambassador of her pantheon is one of the primary reasons our parleys have fallen apart.¡±


    ¡°But she¡¯s requesting another audience?¡± Seppo asked.


    ¡°More like declaring her imminent arrival.¡± A vein pulsed on Kydon¡¯s neck. ¡°Impertinent¨C¡±


    ¡°We get it.¡± Malia rolled her eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll want us in attendance this time?¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Kydon growled. ¡°She¡¯ll be demanding an explanation for the power dilation and sticking her flushed nose where it doesn¡¯t belong.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll go.¡± Seppo stomped over, his exoskeleton hissing. ¡°All three of you. It¡¯ll be an excellent show of strength to display our newly reunited Gods of Death. Thane and Azoria will return to Nebesa until he is fit for duty in Aenea, and I¡¯ll remain here to integrate the tribes into the Tingid defense. But I expect nothing but diplomacy.¡± He leveled his gaze at Malia. ¡°To the best of your ability, do not antagonize them. As they haven¡¯t declared war yet, let¡¯s see that it stays that way.¡±


    Malia flashed him a smile. ¡°I would never.¡±


    Seppo snorted and stumped off to the tribesmen. Murmuring goodbyes, Thane and Azoria withdrew through her portal. Another surge of power punctuated their departure.


    Still glowering, Kydon turned and trudged through the village, heading for the mountain pass. ¡°She¡¯s probably already arrived at the head of the pass,¡± he called back as we scurried to catch up.


    ¡°You said she was pushy?¡± I felt an impulse to pull my Veil on as the Tingins followed us with their eyes. My movements felt stretched, my bones slightly more prominent than I remembered.


    Kydon huffed. ¡°She would be, if she were sober. As is, she¡¯s just a staggering winesop.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ve said.¡± Malia fluttered her wings. ¡°Anyone else with her?¡±


    ¡°Two Apkalla.¡± Kydon didn¡¯t sound impressed, although it was hard to tell if he cared nothing for her bodyguards or if he were still annoyed at the thought of the Paeden goddess. ¡°A few other retainers that are borderline demigods, if they¡¯re remotely divine.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Given how our last encounter with the Paedens went, it felt strange that they¡¯d only include one more anointed Sage among the retinue sent to oppose us. Nergal, their plague god, had Meduga, although it had been more the god keeping an eye on the Apkalla than the pair working as a unit. This time, it sounded as if the Paedens had sent the god first which didn¡¯t bode well, considering how low they regarded the errands they sent their Sages on.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Outside of the company of mortals with her? Yeah.¡± As Kydon passed through the village streets, he drew almost no attention to himself. Whether that was from the eyes of the town being accustomed to his presence or drawn to the death gods trailing him, I wasn¡¯t sure. Kydon, at least, didn¡¯t seem to care. ¡°No other divine beings have joined her, and she hasn¡¯t communicated with the rest of her pantheon in any way that I can discern. No new Paeden foot soldiers have arrived, either, which, given how much she verbally lambasts me every time we meet, is surprising. The way she talks, war is all but certain.¡±


    ¡°And yet here we are, marching to another talk, bearing no arms.¡± Malia cast me an unreadable expression.


    Self-satisfaction at her joke? Coy about some secret knowledge? Something else? Only she knew.


    We reached the start of the trail and made our way up the mountain, Kydon continuing to grumble about Inkashi. I was beginning to suspect the friction during their previous meetings was more personal than diplomatic. While Kydon was good about being fair, if he didn¡¯t get along with someone, it would bring that objectivity to a grinding halt. You¡¯d have better success getting a wagon out of a rut during a torrential downpour. And, from the sounds of it, they had the affinity of like-minded lodestones. If she were anything like Kydon, our late arrival would likely leave a poor first impression.


    However, when we reached the crest of the mountain pass, jagged gray stone sweeping up on either side, the goddess was nowhere to be seen. The flat area Malia and I had first observed the Paedens from gave us an excellent view of their new camp, which they¡¯d made by clearing a decent portion of the forest below. Dozens of creamy tents with swirling fronds of red thread filled the space, smoke rising from scattered campfires. From this distance, it was hard to make out the individual soldiers, but the smears of crimson shifting among the tents showed signs of life. A few hundred troops then, at least, based on the size of their camp.


    Another pulse of energy burst from the backside trail moments before a pair of scarlet banners poked through the foliage. Born by mortal men wearing nothing but linen skirts, the standards depicted a winged minotaur, burdened by his muscular form almost as much as the effort of subduing the writhing sea serpent beneath his hooves. Seven figures surrounded him, not all of them winged and some with extra sets as if compensating for those without. At the top, a winged sun smiled down on the minotaur and his companions. Golden tassels, matching the thread used in the embroidery of the scene, fluttered from the banner¡¯s fringe.


    Behind the standard bearers marched a pair of creatures who could only be Apkalla. The foremost, a winged man with the brown, black-beaked head of an eagle and matching plumage covering his chest, shouldered two poles that bore less weight than the rear carrier, a falcon-headed man with two pairs of wings and the scaly, taloned feet of a bird of prey. More peculiar than the porters, however, was the litter they carted between them: a bulbous amphora with a neck nearly as wide as the jug itself. Wine sloshed out as the Apkalla stumbled their way to flatter ground, staining the clay with dark spots.


    Pale fingers, glistening with the red fermented juice, gripped the mouth of the pitcher as the goddess pulled herself out. Dark, wet hair preceded an angular face flushed from wine and etched with irritation. ¡°What did you do this time, you fat bastard?¡± She froze, mouth agape, when she saw Malia and me. Her bare shoulders sank back below the lip of the amphora and her jaw worked at her words, which seemed stuck. Eyes glued to Malia, she finally said, ¡°Gods, you¡¯re beautiful.¡±


    Malia blinked but quickly recovered. Spreading her wings, she gave a shallow bow. ¡°Likewise. Kydon made no mention you had such exquisite features.¡±


    Inkashi wrinkled her nose. ¡°Ugh, don¡¯t remind me of that oaf.¡± Eyes narrowed, she glared at the half-troll. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you send her first? Appearance is everything, and I know she can¡¯t possibly smell like you do.¡±


    ¡°For the last time, that ¡®Carthian stench¡¯ is all in your head, you miserable old hag,¡± Kydon growled. ¡°While not all our gods maintain their personal hygiene to satisfactory levels, I take great care of myself. The only thing that reeks is your attitude, which has yet to cease its best impersonation of horse feces.¡±


    Inkashi sank down to her eyes. ¡°Heavens send the winds shift. I¡¯d rather be downwind of a swineherd.¡±


    ¡°I fear our diplomacy may have gotten off to a bad start.¡± Lurching forward, I stepped between them and gave a stiff bow. ¡°Perhaps we could begin again?¡±


    Startled, Inkashi shook her head and blinked a few times. ¡°What a strange aura you have,¡± she said. Frowning, she glared at Kydon again. ¡°What instability your pantheon has, bastardizing its gods. And you seriously expect us to consider you able to help?¡±


    ¡°It was a simple reassignment,¡± Malia hissed. ¡°I¡¯m sure the Paeden assemblage hasn¡¯t remained static all these centuries either.¡±


    ¡°You two?¡± Wide-eyed, Inkashi stared incredulously at Malia. ¡°How in the seven heavens did he land you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve asked myself that as well, over the centuries.¡± Malia folded her arms. ¡°Are you the goddess of drunkenness and duplicity? You¡¯ve come bearing compliments and insults, a duality I can appreciate.¡±


    ¡°Forgiveness, words aren¡¯t always my strength.¡± The goddess really did look abashed. ¡°It would never have crossed my mind that someone as stunning as you could have tied yourself down, much less with a buffoon like him¡­¡±


    Malia simply raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°As to your question,¡± Inkashi said, stumbling along, ¡°I am the Goddess of Wine and War, may the two never mix.¡±


    ¡°Then we share a partial affinity.¡± Beaming, Malia bathed her in a smile that was almost all charm, tainted by its intensity. ¡°As it¡¯s well within your jurisdiction, perhaps you could assist me with something. I¡¯d hate to mingle again over a battlefield.¡±


    ¡°Do tell.¡± Subtlety also wasn¡¯t her strong suit, apparently, as she failed to hide how she latched onto the out Malia had given her.


    Grinning, she drilled her with the petrifying gaze of a cobra freezing a bird. ¡°You have something of mine. I want it back.¡±

 Chapter 86: The Schism

    Frowning, Inkashi shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°I think you do.¡± Malia slid forward, her gaze fierce. ¡°Come now, it can¡¯t be that hard to figure out. Anyone bearing a passing resemblance to myself you might¡¯ve absconded with recently?¡±


    ¡°Oh. You mean our goddess.¡± Inkashi laughed. ¡°She¡¯s been taken to our camp for safekeeping.¡±


    ¡°Jade was abducted from Carthian territory.¡± Malia flashed her fangs. ¡°Although she only holds a minor position in our pantheon, she is nevertheless one of ours. I¡¯m sure you can understand, holding an Office similar to my own, why you¡¯d want to return her, safe and unharmed, and the earliest possible moment.¡±


    Inkashi scowled and folded her arms on the rim of her amphora. ¡°As I told your two-legged pig friend, those mines are Paeden and have been for millennia. We don¡¯t recognize your claim to them, or any persons in them, and the only reason we haven¡¯t moved back into our own territory is because you¡¯re contesting it. I told him I would wait for someone with real authority to make sure he understood that.¡±


    ¡°Waiting until Jade severed all ties and fully integrated into our pantheon is one hell of a way to proclaim you still care about this land,¡± I said.


    Once again, the Paeden goddess looked shocked at my presence. ¡°The mines have stone found nowhere else in Paedea. It¡¯s essential for many rituals and aspects of worship. However, we only come for more once a century because of how slowly the rock regrows.¡±


    Malia snorted in disgust. ¡°You can drop the fa?ade. We know why the mines really matter, and what¡¯s beneath them.¡±


    Inkashi¡¯s eyebrows scrunched together. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Her porters shifted uneasily, glancing at each other and fluttering their wings. ¡°My lady, perhaps we should go.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t know?¡± Eyes sparkling, Malia slithered forward as the Apkalla stumbled back. ¡°So you don¡¯t know why Jade is so important, then, either.¡±


    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Confusion riddled Inkashi¡¯s face.


    ¡°We should go,¡± the rear Apkalla rumbled. Grunting, the pair swung the litter about.


    ¡°What¡¯s gotten into you?¡± Inkashi demanded.


    ¡°We move as Marudak commands,¡± the lead Apkalla said.


    ¡°More like they don¡¯t want you hearing about Marudak¡¯s failures, or that the ancient Sea Mother is returning.¡± Malia¡¯s snakes jiggled as she laughed. ¡°Running scared because their little secret is out.¡±


    ¡°The Ancient Mother was annihilated countless ages ago.¡± Inkashi smacked one of the carrying rods. ¡°Stop moving. We¡¯re not leaving yet. What secrets?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t kill an eldritch deity,¡± I said, folding my arms. ¡°The best you can do is cut them into pieces and pray their tomb holds.¡±


    ¡°And Tamiyat¡¯s did not.¡± Malia¡¯s use of the primordial goddess¡¯s proper name made them flinch. ¡°She took her former jailor as proxy, and then we took that from her. Now she¡¯s coming for Jade to serve as her new surrogate, and through her free her imprisoned mate.¡±


    The two Apkalla recovered quickly and marched the litter down the path, ignoring Inkashi¡¯s protests. Glaring daggers at them, she pushed herself out of her amphora. Red wine clung to her, congealing into a wavy dress that lost none of its liquidity. A beautiful quiver, the pattern in its worked leather matching that of the amphora, settled onto her back. Golden arrows fletched with white feathers rattled around the unstrung bow which rose from the quiver like a cattail. Although I didn¡¯t see it form, when she turned, she revealed an ivory-handled dagger resting against her hip.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Her hair and body dripped with wine, despite her departure from her bath. Anger clouded her face, her fingers twitching above the dagger. ¡°Are you gods yourselves, to defy me?¡±


    Shoulders tense, the Apkalla set the litter down and slowly spun to face her. They spread their wings as they separated from the carriage. Their eyes began to glow as they approached her.


    ¡°We are the mouthpiece of Marudak,¡± they chanted in unison. An unnatural wind, contrary to the breeze blowing across the saddle, ruffled their feathers. ¡°By the token of his power upon us do we make known his will to you. Submit, or be subdued for rebellion against the Most High.¡±


    Inkashi slumped a little, but her hand strayed to the dagger hilt. ¡°If it is so, then I will yield.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come now,¡± Malia spat. Slithering forward, she came abreast of Inkashi. ¡°Hey, pretty boy, remember me?¡±


    The two Apkalla pulled up, both pairs of eyes locking on her with unnerving synchrony.


    ¡°Mm, glad to see it.¡± She was practically purring now. I felt my skin itch at the impending confrontation. Malia liked her fun, and the Apkalla had done something to set her off. ¡°How about you piss off and let the adults handle this, hmm?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re damned gorgeous, but he¡¯s my god,¡± Inkashi said, sighing. ¡°I can stand on my own behalf.¡±


    Malia ignored her. Eyes hardening, she slid closer to the winged sages. ¡°You¡¯re not getting away that easily. You came onto my territory, stole one of my gods, and have the audacity to camp an army on my doorstep. I don¡¯t give a shit if you¡¯re not on Carthian soil right at this moment¡ªyou were, so the next words out of your mouths better be the most sincere apologies and a solemn vow to immediately return her.¡±


    ¡°What a yammering bitch, barking at every stud she scents.¡± Light coalesced in their hands, rods that slowly took on the shape of swords. ¡°Yes, let the men handle the important tasks. I¡¯m sure your neglected whelps need their linens changed.¡±


    ¡°Strong words, coming from the ¡®man¡¯ who sends women and eunuchs to fight his battles for him.¡± Malia grinned triumphant when the barb hit home.


    Snarling, the Apkalla surged forward. They didn¡¯t get far, however, coughing as they bounced off an invisible barrier.


    Kydon huffed a laugh. ¡°It would seem our men are more prepared than you give them credit for.¡± Grinning, he nodded at the line in the dirt where they¡¯d been repelled. ¡°That is the manifestation of the extent of our border, tangible through my authority. Your ambassador is welcome.¡± He flicked a hand at the pair and scowled. ¡°You are not. Go fetch our goddess while we convene.¡±


    ¡°You are speaking directly to the god she is the ambassador for.¡± Their augmented voices dripped condescension like a waterfall only mists those who walk beneath its waters. ¡°For your ignorance I pardon your offense this once, but you had best learn your station, and quickly, if you wish to remain as you are.¡±


    ¡°Your vessels are shit,¡± Malia said. Laughing, she shook her head and feigned hiding a smile. ¡°Who was that first one you sent again? Oannes, was it? ¡®Chief among the Apkallan Sages,¡¯ ha. I¡¯ve faced patronless mortals stronger than he.¡± Another smile ghosted across her lips as she tapped her chin. ¡°If you¡¯re trying to bewilder us into submission by an endless parade of self-embarrassment, I must say you¡¯re doing an excellent job.¡±


    Circles rippled through the air from where the sages struck the transparent barrier. Faces clouded with rage, they leaned as close to the barrier as they could. ¡°I will salt the earth with your ashes.¡± Although the boundary had held against their first attack, the power Marudak fed into their voices made the air warble, and the ward with it.


    Malia rolled her eyes. ¡°I hope you know the names of these Apkalla, so you know what to inscribe on their tombstones.¡±


    ¡°And I hope the head of your pantheon knows what his women are doing.¡± They clasped their hands together, their light-swords vanishing with dull flashes. ¡°Abducting a Paeden goddess is an act of war. So unless you wish to face me in person, I¡¯d suggest¡ª¡±


    Whatever he¡¯d been going to say was choked in the sages¡¯ throats by Malia unveiling her glare. Nostrils flared, she blasted the Apkalla with a fraction of her power. Not that she was holding back for their sakes, but a flinching of her snake hair that only I noticed revealed the effects of her lingering injuries.


    The pair collapsed, clutching their throats and gasping for breath. Behind them, the mortal standard bearers froze, open-mouthed, as the corona caught and glued them to their banner poles forever.


    Malia towered over the sages, still fuming. ¡°You dare speak to me about war? Over a trespass you committed?¡± She spat, and the ground sizzled where her saliva landed. ¡°It is only by my mercy¡ª¡ªmy mercy, and mine alone¡ªthat your land is not a barren wasteland, dotted by the bleached skeletons of its former peoples. With how impotent and incompetent you are, I¡¯d hoped that you could put your juvenile pride aside long enough to protect your own from a threat that has you pissing yourself at night, but I suppose that¡¯s too much to expect from a bedwetter.¡±


    The human-faced Apkalla bared his teeth, the falcon-headed snapping his beak. ¡°Inkashi. Now.¡±


    Eyes downcast, the woman flashed us an apologetic look as she reluctantly slid across the boundary.


    Veiling her petrifying gaze, Malia glared at the Apkalla, who were still on their hands and knees. ¡°You have until sundown to return what¡¯s mine, unharmed. Or you had best make sure you¡¯re on good terms with whatever being oversees the death of gods.¡± Whipping her tail, she spun and slithered down the mountain trail.


    In somber silence we followed her. Knowing Malia, she already had two or three plans to extract Jade in place, if not in motion. With the head Paeden deity getting directly involved with the negotiations and losing the pissing match, an alliance had just gone from unlikely to impossible. There was still a chance we could recover Jade without full-scale war ensuing but, judging from the tension in Malia¡¯s trembling shoulders, I doubted it. When we got back to camp I¡¯d talk to her and try to calm her down. If she was going to rampage, at the very least she should keep from hurting herself in the process.

 Chapter 87: The Frontier

    When we returned to the village, we found Hasda conversing with the Tingin elder I¡¯d encountered on my first visit to the region since my retirement. The wrinkly old man stood in Hasda¡¯s shadow, his face reflecting the purple glow of the lad¡¯s armor. While the djinn hadn¡¯t revealed himself, that aura could only be his doing. It seemed to make the elder uncomfortable, although he had nothing but smiles for Hasda himself.


    As for Hasda, he had something on his mind as well. He kept stealing glances towards the mine and frowning, his grin reappearing whenever he turned back to the senior villager. When he saw us, his face lit up, and he shuffled along with the elder to meet us at the head of the path.


    ¡°It is always an honor to have the gods walk among us again,¡± the aged man said. His sleeves, a pine green that complimented the earthy brown of his robes, billowed as he bowed. ¡°The honorable shaman informed me of the Dark One¡¯s new form, and of his mother¡¯s recent injuries. If the goddess desires, we have wine which has been matured for many summers, as well as calming herbal tea which I¡¯ve found particularly comforting for my aching joints.¡±


    Malia stretched her wings as she gave him a cool look. ¡°Your concern is appreciated but unwarranted. Those without divine healing tend to¡­exaggerate the effects of our injuries.¡± Her tail twitched back and forth. ¡°I¡¯m much better now, but I might accept the hospitality of that tea while we hold assembly.¡±


    The man dipped his head. ¡°If I may, our men are eager to join yours in the village defense.¡± Cautiously, he extended his hand towards the Carthian patrol. ¡°Your protection is admirable, and we are grateful for it, but this is our home. At least permit us the small pride of defending ourselves.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll get such a chance soon,¡± Kydon said. ¡°Whether we drive the Paedens from the border or your doorsteps, we expect to confront them soon. Your warriors should be ready.¡±


    ¡°And we will go with you into battle.¡± The old man¡¯s face wrinkled with his smile.


    ¡°With all due respect, honored one, your men will need to remain to defend the village.¡± Kydon looked as unhappy saying it as the elder did hearing it. ¡°If the Paedens cross the mountains, then we will gladly bear arms together, but if we have to chase them beyond the pass, we can¡¯t leave the town totally unguarded.¡±


    ¡°Peace, Kydon.¡± I unfolded my arms with a grunt. ¡°How many men battle in a unit?¡±


    ¡°Our best work in groups of four,¡± the elder said.


    I nodded. ¡°Then send me your best unit. If we go over the mountains, they¡¯ll accompany us. I¡¯ll leave a squad of hand-picked soldiers to serve in their stead if we leave.¡±


    Sleeves flopping, the old man clasped his hands together and bowed. ¡°Such kindness from the Dark One. With your leave, I will inform the men at once.¡± With another bobbing bow, he retreated to the village.


    When he was out of sight, Malia snapped her wings. ¡°Well, Hasda, I¡¯m dying to know why you keep ogling the mines. Do you see something we don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what it is,¡± he said, casting another uncomfortable glance its way. ¡°It¡¯s like the tiger¡¯s aura but scattered, like an army of ants, and it feels¡­sour.¡±


    She pursed her lips. ¡°Has it been getting worse?¡±


    ¡°While you were gone, yes, but it stopped before you returned.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take a look later.¡± She folded her arms and gave me a look. ¡°What?¡±


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    ¡°We will investigate together.¡± I shook my head. ¡°But before that, I¡¯d like to know what you have planned for tonight. Before it happens.¡±


    Kydon frowned, his bulky arms twitching. ¡°Moving before they refuse to return Jade is a breach of etiquette that gives them enough moral high ground to get a foothold against us.¡±


    ¡°I only gave them until evening, and the afternoon is half gone as it is.¡± Scowling, she glared at the clouds darkening overhead. ¡°Rain might complicate some avenues, though.¡±


    ¡°Hope you didn¡¯t start without me.¡± Seppo stumped up, his face streaked with brown stripes that matched the warpaint the tribesmen had worn.


    Malia flashed him a sharp smile. ¡°We would never.¡±


    Smiling, Seppo clapped Hasda¡¯s shoulder as he settled in next to the lad. ¡°So, did you find Jade yet?¡±


    ¡°While your optimism is appreciated,¡± I said, half-smiling myself, ¡°we don¡¯t work that fast. Malia believes the Paedens won¡¯t return her, so we¡¯re planning accordingly.¡±


    ¡°Naturally.¡± Seppo jerked a nod, shooting a vent of steam from the braces on his neck. ¡°Frontal assault?¡±


    ¡°Nothing like that,¡± Malia said. Shadows passed across her face as more clouds rolled in. ¡°Kydon, will your ward react to us leaving Tingid?¡±


    The ogre rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ¡°It¡¯s designed to impede the Paedens, not herald our comings and goings.¡±


    ¡°Could it?¡± Malia¡¯s eyes sparkled as she said it.


    ¡°Your astral form would work just as well as whatever you have in mind,¡± I said.


    ¡°Yes, but you expect me to go with no fanfare?¡±


    Kydon snorted. ¡°It can, theoretically, mimic the effect Inkashi has been using to announce her arrival. But that would alter the efficacy of its hampering intruders. And I can¡¯t revert it were I to make this change because it will relay the foundation of the ward.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t need to.¡± Malia dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. ¡°How quickly can you set a new boundary ward?¡±


    His brow furrowed. ¡°If you¡¯re suggesting what I think you are, the answer is no. We¡¯d need entrenched worshippers to even consider moving our claim further east. I only managed to get as far as the mountain peaks because the Tingins have been under our wings for several decades now and have traded with the roaming peoples beyond.¡± Sighing, he shook his head. ¡°If they¡¯d established an outpost in the woods that the Paedens are encamped within, then we could make a claim, albeit a flimsy one at best. But as it stands, any declaration we made would be effectively meaningless.¡±


    She glanced sideways at Seppo. ¡°What are the odds some of those traveling traders are among the Paeden conscripted?¡±


    ¡°Not zero.¡± Seppo frowned. ¡°But hardly enough to be considered a people. Given their wandering ways, I doubt their spirit is invested in the land, and certainly none with blood ties to it.¡±


    ¡°Consider that the third layer of defense,¡± Malia said dismissively. Her wings twitched as the first droplets of rain fell.


    We all pulled our Veils on, Seppo encompassing Hasda in his, to keep the elements away.


    I huffed a laugh. ¡°So there¡¯s two layers under, and two layers over, plus your last resort. You kicking the hornets¡¯ nest and taking a piss on it is the second layer. What¡¯s the core?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Hasda, of course, dear.¡± Wings fluttering, Malia radiated pride. ¡°Once night falls, he¡¯ll take his Carthians into the Paeden camp, locate Jade, and get her out. My triggering the boundary ward will be his signal to move.¡±


    ¡°That will draw the Paedens¡¯ attention,¡± I said. ¡°But I doubt Marudak will fall for simple sword-rattling.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll pay attention to a pantheon head moving against him.¡± Malia¡¯s eyes had that gleam that only ever meant trouble. ¡°Seppo will lead the tribes behind me, and his passage will trigger the ward a second time. Since it will be nightfall, the darkness should conceal the fact that the mortals aren¡¯t individually tripping the barrier.¡±


    ¡°I recruited enough soldiers to be considered an invading force,¡± Seppo said, his face serious. ¡°What is rescuing a member of our pantheon, to us, could be construed as an act of war by them.¡±


    ¡°Inkashi recognized my claim.¡± Malia¡¯s tone brooked no room for debate. ¡°Jade is mine, and ours. The fact they simply brushed my demands aside, instead of refuting them, was acknowledgment enough that I have the authority to make good on my threats. Right, Kydon?¡±


    He grumbled under his breath, mulling the arguments over. ¡°Hmm. You, alone, going to retrieve Jade would not be considered a declaration of war. But trailing Seppo and an army in your wake might be.¡±


    ¡°Their head revealed himself before ours did,¡± Malia countered. ¡°If a border dispute is serious enough to merit his personal attention, how much moreso us recovering one of our own?¡±


    Kydon shrugged. ¡°Your reasoning holds weight with us. It¡¯s the Paedens¡¯ interpretation that determines how they perceive it.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t know how they take it until we move,¡± Seppo said. ¡°It¡¯s a solid plan. I¡¯ll get the tribes ready while you finish the rest of the preparations.¡± Frame hissing, he gave Hasda a parting pat before sauntering off.


    The rain had grown to a drizzle, misting Hasda the moment he was beyond Seppo¡¯s Veil. I spread mine over him before he got too thoroughly drenched.


    ¡°The obvious layer beyond,¡± I said, glancing at Malia, ¡°is a counter-strike in Aenea if the Paedens declare war here. What¡¯s the thread I¡¯m missing?¡±


    Malia gave me a cryptic smile as she slid forward. ¡°Let¡¯s go check that speckled aura Hasda was feeling. Wouldn¡¯t do to have enemies crawling up our backs, now, would it?¡±

 Chapter 88: The Mute

    Our search of the mines proved fruitless. Even before we arrived at the mouth of the tunnels, Hasda frowned and said the speckled aura had dissipated like morning dew. Malia and I still did due diligence, but an afternoon later, we came up empty-handed. Malia materialized in front of some startled miners and warned them to be on guard, and then we headed out into the cool evening air to see whether the Paedens had refused to release Jade.


    Before heading to the pass, we checked Hasda¡¯s armor one last time and then escorted him to his troops. The djinn kept himself out of sight and withheld whatever snarky remarks he thought of, although he did flourish a purple aura across the metal to wow the soldiers. We stayed behind our Veils, however, so Hasda could garner his own respect rather than riding residual fear and awe at his patron deities.


    While we would be at the primary pass, Hasda would take his unit to the southern pass. That gap was more overgrown than the main one, since the Tingids didn¡¯t maintain it, and its trail snaked up and down the mountains far more than ours. Malia wouldn¡¯t call the deadline until nightfall, which would give Hasda enough time to make most of the descent, if not reach the edge of the Paedens¡¯ camp.


    I¡¯d considered shadowing him but decided against it both to support Malia and for the same reason we didn¡¯t reveal ourselves to his men. Hasda needed to stretch his wings without us hovering, and he¡¯d be able to handle whatever danger came his way. With Malia drawing most of the divine attention, he¡¯d face, at best, a semi-divine Apkalla. Marudak wouldn¡¯t proxy through them to battle a band of mortals, not with war gods on his doorstep.


    But only Malia would publicly announce herself. Kydon had scurried off to wherever he¡¯d buried the sigiled obelisk, a stone spike no bigger than his palm and covered in runes. While it wasn¡¯t necessary for the boundary to remain erect, it served as both catalyst and focal point for Kydon¡¯s power. He¡¯d said the alteration to the barrier would be perceptible to us, but not to outsiders.


    Just before sundown, an emerald aurora had shimmered in the air, not far from where Inkashi had dismounted. Malia gave it a curt nod and fluttered her wings. On her right, I stood concealed beneath my Veil, the rocky mountainside kneading my back. Seppo waited well out of sight down the path, the tribesmen hidden by the dip in the ground and the blanket of trees.


    Arms folded, Malia watched the trail down the backside of the mountains, tail twitching as she waited for signs of the Paedens. Sunset faded to twilight, and then dusk flirted with night. Ulti was scattering the first nocturnal gems in the velvet heavens by the time Malia spread her wings and prepared to herald her ire.


    A figure stumbled from behind the trees. What little light remained revealed a young servant girl, no more than twelve or thirteen, clothed in thin, pale robes. Her long hair veiled her face and cascaded over her hands, which clutched something to her chest. As she slipped from the trees, hunched over, she cast furtive glances over her shoulder.


    Malia hadn¡¯t bothered to hide herself from the girl¡¯s approach, but the growing darkness must have been a bit too much for the mortal. When she noticed Malia, she leaped and twisted to put whatever she held out of Malia¡¯s sight. My gorgon smiled and shook her head.


    ¡°Too late for that, child.¡± She put a touch of power in her voice, lighting the clearing with her now-spread wings. ¡°Have they sent you to bear the brunt of my wrath for their failure? Or is it a pitiful peace offering you bring?¡±


    The girl shook her head and hid her bundle beneath her scant garment.


    Malia frowned. ¡°I know you for a Paeden. Pray tell, why are you here, if not to answer my demands?¡±


    Face paling, the girl shrank back but refused to answer.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Sighing, Malia massaged her forehead. ¡°At least be a semi-competent messenger and speak up.¡±


    Something in her face tightened and, while the angle of her face didn¡¯t change, I could¡¯ve sworn she was looking down her nose at Malia.


    She seemed to gather the same attitude I did. Slithering forward, she towered over the girl. ¡°Did you lose your tongue during the climb up? Shall I help you fetch it?¡±


    The girl held her free hand out, palm up, then flipped her hand back and forth, as if she were turning over pages. When Malia just stared blankly at her, she repeated the gesture and then mimed scooping things up.


    ¡°The gift of tongues requires the use of one,¡± Malia said, shaking her head. ¡°If you¡¯re quite finished, I¡¯m about to rampage across yonder valley, and I could use a snack.¡±


    I rolled my eyes as I dropped my Veil. ¡°She¡¯s clearly here for a reason. Don¡¯t eat her before you find out why or what she brought.¡±


    The girl¡¯s face lit up when she saw me, illumined by the soft glow of Malia¡¯s wings. Displaying a disregard that was either foolhardy or fearless, she strode out of Malia¡¯s reach and offered me her hidden bundle. In her outstretched hand she held a trumpet shell, thin maroon bands marking the bulbous carapace. It looked harmless enough and exuded no threatening auras.


    The ridges of the shell were cool pricks against my palm. A salty breeze floated over me, echoes of distant waves drifting in its wake. Beyond that, nothing spectacular happened.


    Eyes alight, the girl cupped her hands to her ear. When I didn¡¯t follow, she grabbed my elbow and forced my arm up. Malia gave me a look that was mild impatience couched in an exasperated smile. She¡¯d had that same indulgent expression when I selected my first hero, a scrappy lad whose tenacity kept him from crossing the threshold into death, although his shadow darkened its doorstep many a time during his campaigns.


    Reminiscing on the days gone by was cut short when the mouth of the shell touched my ear and started speaking.


    ¡°If you¡¯re hearing this, Desert Prophet, then my servant found you before she was discovered.¡± Nanshe¡¯s voice rang hollow in the shell, her volume skirmishing for dominance with the sound of surf in the background. ¡°While this isn¡¯t much, it is the best I can offer. But it carries such weight that I consider myself indebted to you no longer, and once you¡¯ve heard this message I¡¯m sure you will agree.¡±


    Malia gave me a quizzical look.


    I shook my head, careful not to dislodge the shell or shove the girl¡¯s hand away by accident. She still held on, as if I didn¡¯t understand how to listen to the shell.


    ¡°It is no hidden matter that Marudak has reclaimed the minor goddess from your halls,¡± the note went on. ¡°I cannot return her to you. In her place, a word to serve as a tocsin for your survival. Although the atargas, we mastered, the lakrabua, we did not.¡±


    I opened my mouth to question and felt a tug on my elbow. Smiling, the girl held a finger to her lips. I didn¡¯t like the connection that comment raised, but there was more to the message.


    ¡°Faithful though this girl has been, she can serve me no more. Were she to return, she could expose my sedition, through no fault of her own, if her departure did not alert the others already. I¡¯m entrusting her fate to you, a god who has shown himself¡­surprisingly honorable. Do unto her as you wish.¡±


    With a crack, the shell split in my hand. As I stared at the bisected pieces, it further dissolved into a powder that drifted away on the cool night breeze. The girl must have expected this, because she dropped her hand when the shell burst and stared at me expectantly.


    Malia finally broke her silence. ¡°Well?¡±


    I studied the piebald powder coating my palm. ¡°A warning from the most unexpected source.¡±


    ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you mysterious.¡± Folding her arms, she pouted at me. ¡°I did refrain from eating her.¡±


    I huffed a laugh and shook the last fragments from my hand. ¡°It¡¯s not a secret, but it is unusual.¡± Briefly I recounted the contents of the missive.


    Malia eyed the girl thoughtfully. ¡°Since I can¡¯t eat her in peace with your puppy-dog eyes souring my dinner, I¡¯ll send her to Nebesa. Phemonoe loves strays.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Are you good to thunder and roar without me?¡±


    Her portal flared to life beside us. She lifted a brow at me. ¡°Going on an adventure?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to check the mines again.¡± I scowled down the mountain path. ¡°Do you remember the tales with lakrabua? Perhaps as ¡®ketri.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t say that I do.¡± Her wing brushed the girl¡¯s back, nudging her towards the portal. The girl must¡¯ve understood us, or at least that we bore her no ill will, because she made no protest as she followed Malia¡¯s guidance. ¡°You are surprisingly compliant, child.¡±


    The girl smiled up at her as she went through the portal, her hands flurrying through a sequence of signs neither Malia nor I understood.


    ¡°They were bedtime boogeymen in the age after Seppo¡¯s mother fell.¡± I sighed. ¡°The descriptions were never clear or consistent, but the fact that Nanshe¡¯s risking her head just to warn us about them¡­¡±


    ¡°Could be a bluff.¡± Malia slipped over to kiss my chin. ¡°I won¡¯t be long. Don¡¯t have too much fun without me.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of it.¡± I kissed her forehead, and then she was off.

 Chapter 89: The Lakrabua

    It didn¡¯t take long to make my way back inside the mines. With my Veil on, the Tingins didn¡¯t question why I¡¯d returned, and I didn¡¯t bother them as I made my way down the winding shafts. I went with my senses taut, straining to catch any sign of the Ketri as I filtered out the guttering torches. By the time I reached the collapsed shaft that marked the end of the Tingins¡¯ mining operations, the crumbled wall speared with shattered beams, I¡¯d found nothing new. Only the ghosts of the fragmented aura, like rings from mugs on the feasting table, grimed my spiritual fingertips.


    I turned to go and, as I did, felt something brush my shoulder. Not a draft, because the torches told me which way the air was flowing, not a miner, and certainly not the Kydonian tiger. A strange crack in the stone that Malia and I had somehow missed suddenly seemed clear as daylight, a dark fissure that contoured itself to the curve of the rock wall. I would¡¯ve called it camouflaged if it weren¡¯t for the utter disarray in the tunnel¡¯s structure caused by the collapse.


    My breath caught as I reached for the cleft. Cold pricked my fingers, lancing my palm as my hand moved through viscous air. The world around me warped as something sucked me through the chink.


    Blurring darkness swirled and then spat me out. I stumbled to my knees in a cavern awash with iridescent sparkles. In the middle of the chamber, a shallow pool reflected the moon, despite no shafts anywhere in the ceiling to let the night sky through. But this room didn¡¯t seem to care much for the laws of reality.


    Across the room, casting no reflection in the pool, stood a pair of columns. Flanked by those columns was an inset door, carved with such monstrous creatures as walked the earth with the elder gods, but of a wholly alien array. The lower half held aquatic beasts, while the upper displayed creatures of land and sky.


    Derketo, far more feral and raw than those we¡¯d clashed with in Aenea swam amongst long-necked sea monsters, dwarfed by bulbous creatures with wide flippers and clouded eyes. Below them all, churning the depths, rested a massive dragon with a serpentine tail and a beautiful woman¡¯s face carved in place of a draconic head. Although the depiction didn¡¯t convey how terrible she was in the flesh, this could only be Tamiyat.


    Above, a host of scorpion half-men, human upper bodies sprouting from massive scorpion bodies in place of arachnoid heads, guarded the coast under the watchful gaze of six eldritch beasts. A six-headed ram, a wooly man with bull legs and horns, a two-legged snake with eagle wings and head, a desiccated corpse with canines protruding past its lower jaw, an elephant-sized hound, and a dragon with star-studded clouds for wings¡ªall arrayed in a semi-circle around what would have been the focal point of the relief. Instead, the image had been defaced, deep gouges criss-crossing the absence. While I could understand the hatred for even the symbol of the Sea Mother¡¯s mate, I couldn¡¯t shake the irritation at losing the chance to get a glimpse of his form.


    That annoyance lessened slightly when I got closer to the door and realized that something outside hadn¡¯t clawed it out, something from within had destroyed it. The grooves had been formed by some force bursting through, although not a pebble remained on the floor in evidence of this passage.


    But the imagery made the door¡¯s purpose clear: this could only be the passageway to the cell that held Tamiyat¡¯s companion.


    He hadn¡¯t escaped, however. The door was too intact¡ªand we were too alive¡ªfor that to have happened. Jade had broken free from this hold herself, but she¡¯d never mentioned ruining the portal. Not only that, but the damage was near the lintel, not on the lower portion. While space didn¡¯t always function according to reason between dimensions, it still felt odd that the defacement would have occurred so high up.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Chills tickled my spine. I was being watched.


    In the soft blue light, diffused from the not-moon of the pool, I hadn¡¯t paid close attention to the composition of the walls. At a passing glance, they¡¯d looked like stone, and I¡¯d taken them as such. Probably foolish, in hindsight, given the abnormal nature of my entrance.


    Bristling on the walls, like a pinecone turned inside out, hung dozens upon dozens of the scorpion creatures from the relief. With their tails embedded in the stone, they lay like scales upon each other, faces blank in their suspended sleep. Dark, bushy hair curled from their scalps around their throats, forming manes with the follicles that were thicker than reeds. The plating that protected their arachnid abdomens extended up their human torsos as well, terminating at their collarbones. They all lay belly-up, their backs resting on the underbellies of the ones below them, and many slept with their mouths stretched open by the position.


    They didn¡¯t need to be unnaturally still for it to be an unsettling sight, and yet they were. I knew they weren¡¯t dead because I could sense the life force within the hive, now that I saw them. But the strength of their spirit was faint, in a scattered manner that brought Hasda¡¯s description to mind.


    That just invited a host of uncomfortable questions. Why had he noticed them before, but not now? I couldn¡¯t feel any ebb or flow from the hibernating scorpions, and nothing in the dilation of my strange travel here had indicated any cloaking of this chamber or its contents. If they were the servants of Tamiyat¡¯s mate, as the embossment showed, then why had the Paedens spared them? And if they¡¯d been bound, instead of shown mercy, why outside the dungeon, and not within? And why hadn¡¯t Jade mentioned them? Unless a few survivors had been cast in with her, and escaped the prison behind her. But had a scant number multiplied so quickly? Or had the Paedens ensnared a host?


    The pool rippled, disturbing my thoughts and the false moon on its surface. An answering shiver descended through the creatures, a dust cloud darkening the air as the scorpions shifted. Light from the pool caught on the particles, creating constellations I hadn¡¯t seen in millenia, and younger ones at that. They¡¯d taken the night sky and wound time back on itself, a microcosm of stellar history.


    I was so entranced that, at first, I didn¡¯t notice the clicking. In echo of the shudder, it crept down the swarm until every encased abdomen trembled with the chittering. Like the drone of locusts, only shrouding an articulation that felt like a trick of the ears. Amongst the whine, I heard their name, ¡°lakrabua,¡± but I also picked up a sharper chirping that might have been ¡°ketri.¡± A third name teased my ears, buried under the chatter, a title inarticulable yet primordial, a sound that made my spine itch to run and abandon this place forever.


    But then the sound ended, and the eerie calm returned.


    I flexed my hands, trying to work the tension out of my palms. My neck was stiff, both from staring up so high and from straining against the panic. Whatever these things were, every instinct screamed that I didn¡¯t want to be here when they awoke. But I wouldn¡¯t have that problem if they never woke up again.


    Stifling a manic laugh, I summoned my Scythe, careful not to expend too much energy. No reason to disturb them and rob them of a peaceful death. I didn¡¯t know if the terror they¡¯d induced had enough bite to back it up, but why take unnecessary risks?


    By contrast, trying to harvest an entire flock of slumbering ketri by myself was calculated. There was a good chance the rest of the ketri would stir before I¡¯d collected even half of them, but then again they¡¯d languished for at least centuries. They must have suffered some atrophy during their suspension, and they weren¡¯t divine beasts, because their spark held no higher elements. Their elongated suspension was likely a byproduct of the chamber¡¯s influence, given the contents of its cell.


    Because of the dust, my footsteps made little sound as I made my way to the nearest lakrabua. The air felt thick as I drew my Scythe back, and it wasn¡¯t until something tugged at the shaft that I realized the density might not have been from my tension. A quick glance told me I wasn¡¯t near the crack, and yet I was being sucked back towards it nevertheless.


    I pushed against the Scythe, trying to glean what ketri I could before I was pulled away, but the unknown force dragged me away faster. I¡¯d barely gotten the Scythe out from behind my leg when I became submerged in the swirling sensation I¡¯d experienced on the way in. This time, however, instead of spitting me back into the mineshaft, it deposited me in an eddy, where I hung suspended in the darkness.


    No matter how I pushed against the current, I made no headway. The darkness fought back, shoving me back into the lull whenever I pressed too hard against its constraints. My first doubts about my ability to escape this trap were dispelled by the arrival of a murky, amber glow in the distance that appeared in the direction of the tunnel. But that doubt returned as the light grew brighter, and with it the sense of something ancient, and extremely unpalatable, hidden behind it.


    Whatever was making that light, I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to meet it. But, trapped in the darkness as I was, I didn¡¯t have much choice. Swapping my Scythe for my Sword, I braced myself for combat and waited for the newcomer to make themselves known.

 Chapter 90: The Tree

    I didn¡¯t have to wait long.


    Beaming with all the satisfaction of a spider finding a fly in her web, the Spinster sashayed through the blackness, her figure aglow. She radiated warmth and light, dispelling the darkness around her. A smug smile, like the ancestor of Malia¡¯s coyness, curled the edges of her lips. As for her robes, it was hard to tell where the light fabric ended and the void began because the fringe faded from papery thin to ethereal in an imperceptible gradient.


    ¡°My, my,¡± she said. The quick flash of her teeth gave her a skeletal cast. ¡°What a lodestone for trouble you are.¡±


    ¡°This is a dream, then?¡± I swept my hand over our surroundings. ¡°You ¡®ageless ones¡¯ never visit the land of the living anymore.¡±


    ¡°Portentous words to say so close to a crypt.¡±


    As before, she held her aura within herself. I felt no sense of impending doom and, unlike before, my quick questing for her power revealed no terrifying labyrinth of power. So this arena wasn¡¯t her work, at least not directly.


    Resting her chin on her hands, she floated over and watched me with an unreadable gaze. ¡°Satisfied?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Your kind never comes without some wheedling prophecy or condescending gloat to bestow upon us lower beings. And I¡¯m rather short on clues for why you¡¯ve come this time.¡±


    ¡°Nearly eliminating yourself agitating a dormant hive of lakrabua isn¡¯t context enough for you?¡± She aimed for funny, but the quirk in her lips ruined the effect.


    ¡°The problem with false sympathy is the hollow sound it makes when it collides with reality.¡± I shifted my grip on my Sword. ¡°You were scared. I would¡¯ve taken out the lot of them, but that would¡¯ve ruined your plans, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Your brazenness will be your undoing, Little Child.¡± She swam through the darkness, slowly circling me. ¡°Your mocking words will rebound off your pride, cutting your ankles from beneath you at the least opportune time.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ve picked a side, then?¡±


    She scowled. ¡°Side? Do the stars in the heavens see sides to the earth? How then should I see sides amongst the squabbling ants?¡±


    ¡°If we¡¯re so lowly,¡± I said, flashing a grin, ¡°then why are you here, meddling in our affairs?¡±


    ¡°A lack of exercise leads to atrophy.¡± Her eyes sparkled with their own light. ¡°But my saving the scorpion-men has nothing to do with preserving your fleeting existence, or theirs. As mortal lives are to you, so are your divine ages to me. So to spare the severance of their fated thread by tugging yours is not a mercy, because I weave my own tapestry.¡±


    ¡°Pretty speech.¡± I folded my arms because moving my feet made me flail like a fish. The flat of my Sword rested on my arm, bands of light reflecting off its angles as the Spinsters made another circuit. ¡°I¡¯m sure you practiced it on the way over.¡±


    ¡°Know this, midge,¡± she snapped, her jaw clenched. ¡°You are alive because I saw fit to retract the tie which binds you to that terrestrial tunnel. If I¡¯d let you continue in your recklessness, your discovery would have smothered you. Then how would you return to your precious gorgon?¡±


    ¡°If I¡¯m so worthless, why bother?¡± I shook my head. ¡°I must have had some chance against them, otherwise you wouldn¡¯t have cut me off.¡±


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    ¡°You are guessing at the tapestry from a few threads, without considering the loom.¡± A knowing smile crept out. ¡°Is it so strange to think that, perhaps, I have need of you both?¡±


    I snorted. ¡°It¡¯s not much of a rescue if you ¡®save¡¯ me, only to set the ketri loose on my flank.¡±


    ¡°Who said anything about setting them free?¡± She hummed as she floated around me. ¡°But fine, if you insist. It is a simple matter to alter the pattern so that they do not accost you during this encounter.¡± Rolling her eyes, she flicked her hand. ¡°There, it is done. But you worry about the wrong threat.¡±


    ¡°More hazy hints in place of help?¡±


    Drifting on her back, she frowned at me upside down. Her hair trailed behind her like slender tentacles. ¡°Your impertinence dwarfs your standing, chit. After scorning my prior transparency, you expect further forthrightness?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d hardly call your words plain.¡± I pointed my Sword at her. ¡°At least the Sybil spoke with concrete meaning.¡±


    Her jaw dropped. For a moment she hung there, staring aghast at me, and then she huffed a laugh that, at first, I mistook for retching. Her glow pulsed with her jerks. ¡°That jest was¡­unexpected, but well placed.¡± Still convulsing, she wiped at her eyes. ¡°Very well, raucous guttersnipe, a parting of all veils and a taste of clarity.¡± Her gaze was intense, laden with a strange cocktail of emotion I couldn¡¯t parse. ¡°With wit like yours, you should handle the sight quite well.¡±


    ¡°I can see quite¡ª¡±


    Light blossomed around us, burgeoning from a trunk of power that gave the mixed impression of a sacred oak and a raging waterfall. From its head spread budding tendrils, translucent lily pads blanketing the canopy of space. Pinpricks of starlight pierced the leaves without perforating them, dark halos etched on the membranes around the beams. Boiling like a stormy sea, roots thrashed from beneath the trunk, azure auroras radiating away from each inflection. In the span of a breath, the celestial river-tree consumed the darkness, leaving only a blot on its roots far below, beneath my feet.


    Underneath the majesty of the view, I saw parallels to the structure of the garden in which I¡¯d first met the Spinster. But it was as if the garden was the shadow of this place, each tree the pale particular of this imperial universal. As to the age of the primordial plant, I had no idea. If divine beasts had a botanical equivalent, this would have been the progenitor of all. Its writhing roots and imposing aura added to the impression that the thing was alive, although I had my doubts. But, given how far from my frame of reference I was, it wasn¡¯t beyond the realm of possibility.


    ¡°Glad to see your diminutive mind didn¡¯t explode after the transition.¡± The Spinster smiled, pleased with herself. ¡°Thoroughly saturated with awe yet?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still working out whether this is the room with the curtains.¡±


    She blinked. ¡°Ah, what a wonder your memory is.¡± Smiling, she opened her thin hand, letting three spheres of light drift free. As they floated away, one darkened before winking out, and the third shrank as the middle grew. ¡°Some windows have closed, and others you set a watch upon that was not yourself. The final one, you hurtle towards with abandon.¡±


    ¡°She was taken by the Paedens, not the Sea Mother,¡± I said as an image of Jade filled the swelling sphere. ¡°But we know that Tamiyat is coming to Tingid to free her mate.¡±


    The Spinster tilted her head, a curious expression on her face. ¡°Really? Then you careen towards your doom even more aware of the danger than I first thought.¡±


    ¡°If your surprise is spoiled, can I go? I have a rescue to attend to.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve only glimpsed the face of secrets, shrouded in shadows. Do not be overconfident.¡± She folded her arms, her dress crackling like dry paper. ¡°Have you seen my sister since we last met?¡±


    ¡°I almost wish I had. At least that way I¡¯d have more information to work with.¡± I swished my feet experimentally. Unlike the garden, I didn¡¯t go shooting across the expanse to collide with the tree. Whatever kept me suspended held me in place.


    ¡°Would that your intellect were as consistent as your incorrigible attitude.¡± Her hair caught the light of the leaves above, its color shifting from copper to bronze. ¡°I have confirmed the conclusion of one of my warnings and highlighted, to the best of my ability, the pressing need of the most imminent. What more do you want?¡±


    ¡°I need to know what your goal is.¡± I gave her a hard stare. ¡°At first, it was just vague, taunting proclamations, but now you Primes are sticking your fingers in the pot. I have enough transcendent enemies as it is.¡±


    ¡°I will meddle where I will. And I¡¯d hoped you would have appreciated how very much not an enemy I¡¯ve been to you,¡± the Spinster said flatly. ¡°But, fine. Return to your lowly lack of knowledge and short-sighted squabbling. And, since you cannot stand the insecurity of your own ignorance, be warned that you stand to collide with that elder deity far sooner than you realize. As for my sister¡¯s prophecy, I cannot say, since you refuse to reveal it.¡±


    Huffing, she squinted at me. What she saw made her frown, and she raised her hand and flicked the air.


    Pain exploded across my chest. I curled up, gasping for breath as stars danced across my vision. The circular leaves above blurred into stubby golden icicles, the branches crisscrossing like a river delta. My ears rang, whether from a shockwave or my vibrating ribs, I didn¡¯t know. Whatever she¡¯d done, it hurt.


    When my vision cleared, I saw her hovering not far from me, reclined, with a satisfied smile on her face.


    ¡°If she truly didn¡¯t mark you,¡± she said, her smile broadening, ¡°then I might just have to do so myself. What a beautiful sound your spirit makes.¡± Her eyes crinkled as she laughed. ¡°I look forward to seeing how your thread untangles after this next pass of the shuttle. Goodbye, little one.¡±


    With that encouraging dismissal, she waved her hand. I felt something tug at my waist, stirring up the new aches in my chest from the Spinster¡¯s snap, and the primordial tree faded as the darkness returned. Spinster and space dimmed, converging to a white speck, and then the warped dimension flung me back into the mineshaft.


    Ow.

 Chapter 91: The Claim

    My chest heaved as I ghosted through the walls of the mine, passing through the stone on the straightest path out. It was disorienting, did a number on my already achy frame, and gave me a splitting headache, but it was the fastest way to leave the mines. I didn¡¯t bother with my Veil, so I startled quite a few miners as I walked through them. But I needed to hurry.


    If the Spinster¡¯s word was to be trusted, Tamiyat could move at any time, if she hadn¡¯t already. We¡¯d been counting on her maddening aura warning us of her approach since it seemed a passive effect she had on her environment, like her corruption of the astral plane. But if she had a measure of control over it, then she could cloak her arrival under the guise of her absent influence.


    And we didn¡¯t know how aware she was of our movements, or the Paedens¡¯. Perhaps she knew about Jade¡¯s capture and lay in wait for us to clash with the Paedens, to ensnare the lamia during the chaos. There was no telling how many agents the Sea Mother had beyond Lazuli, or whether she¡¯d already infiltrated the Paedens.


    I felt the dull throb of power thrumming through the stone around me. A moment¡¯s panic spiked in my chest, but a tug at my bond dispelled it. Malia had returned and, impatient as always, started without me. She must have assumed her astral form for her power to be radiating so deeply inside the mountain. Steeling myself against the groaning protests of my ribs, I hurried on.


    When I emerged outside the mountain, I had the most sickening feeling, and not just the nausea from traversing so much stone. The sky overhead was teeming with clouds which blotted out the stars and moonlight. While night had fallen, the luster of Malia¡¯s astral form flashed across the lumpy undersides of the clouds, painting them in muted pinks, greens, and golds. It was hard to tell which was thicker, the humidity or Malia¡¯s aura, but both blended to make the air suffocating and sticky.


    But the rain.


    I had a really, really bad feeling about the rain. It wasn¡¯t a proper downpour yet, only a trickle here and there. But there was something out of place about it that I couldn¡¯t put my finger on. Maybe it was just nerves and being unsettled from another unexpected visit from a Prime. Maybe the Spinster¡¯s touch had sickened me and I needed a good soak in Maas Taeful. And maybe it was the fact that the last time I¡¯d seen clouds like these had been right before¡­


    Right before Lazuli had first appeared in Palmyra.


    Halfway up the path, I jerked to a stop. My darting glances found no sign of the Sea Mother, my senses bare of maddening touch. Clouds were just clouds, and nothing strange about them revealed itself to my eyes. Was I being paranoid?


    Even if it wasn¡¯t Tamiyat¡¯s rain, precipitation could throw a wrench in the rescue. Wet ground made footing unsure, thunder and the patter of rain again leaves made voices echo and obscured positions. Grips became slick in hands, bowstrings would need replacing, arrows fletched anew. The soldiers with Hasda were well-trained, but not even Carthians were immune to the effects of weather.


    Still, there was nothing I could do to shelter Hasda and his crew from the storm without drawing attention to their presence, and if the Sea Mother came, she came. My back itched in the direction of the mines. Despite the Spinster¡¯s promise to keep the ketri contained, I hated having an enemy at my rear. The faster we rescued Jade, the sooner we could go back and purge the creatures. All of us together might be enough to maneuver around the Prime, wishful thinking though it was. But it was the best chance we had of being proactive, instead of waiting for the Spinster to stab us in the back.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    The more pressing issue, however, was the rescue at hand. Up the path, the clouds boiled as Malia surged through them, beyond the crest of the pass. Sparkling, her stellar wings scooped the colloids and scattered them around her. The dark void of her astral face, freckled with stars, glared down at the scurrying Paedens in disgust.


    She¡¯d already laid waste to the nearest edge of the forest, smoke and shattered stumps attesting to the now-absent trees. Spearmen in conical helmets and drab, tan uniforms scampered into hasty formations, failing to hide the fear on their faces. Scant units of archers filled the spotted clearings, taking aim at my gorgon, only to be consumed by a quick burst of her gaze. At first I wondered at the disorganization permeating the camp, but then I saw the agent administering chaos among them.


    Well, that explains where that missing spirit from Peklo went.


    Vetor, three-armed cyclops of a long-forgotten nation, rampaged among the Paedens. Before his death, he¡¯d had a fourth arm, but he lost it wrestling Zephyrus. That had cost him the use of his two-armed shield and ultimately his contest against us, as I was able to take him with ease after his handicap. But even without his shield, he was still a goliath. Twice as big as the tallest Paeden, he towered with his head among the trees, which he uprooted and flailed against his enemies.


    All this power as an undead corpse. He had been quite the foe to bring down in his prime but, even after his long stay in our underworld, he demanded the Paedens¡¯ full attention. And with an angry astral gorgon bearing down on them, the Paedens were buckling.


    And yet, the Apkalla were nowhere to be seen. Inkashi, too, was noticeably absent. From the feel of the land, Malia had already laid claim to the forest beyond, which ought to have been affront enough to draw Marudak¡¯s avatars out. A rampaging, reanimated demigod who was decimating their soldiers should have forced their hand. Although I hadn¡¯t seen him yet, Seppo would be joining the fray once he realized that Marudak was ignoring Malia. If that didn¡¯t draw them into the battle, I didn¡¯t know what would.


    Trees screamed as Vetor snapped their trunks and flung them at the Paedens. Malia added the crackling of a forest fire to the uproar, marching inexorably forward. The Paedens scurried behind what cover survived, shouting for order as their defense gave more and more ground. I moved down the mountain, unseen, watching the chaos unfold as the Paedens were driven back. But still the Apkalla did not show.


    When Seppo appeared over the ridge, the copper of his exoskeleton glowing like a spider web spun from a star, a sinking feeling stole into my gut. The warcry of the tribes, the answering wail of despair from the Paedens, presaged the unraveling of our preparations. Despite selling the feint, the Paedens weren¡¯t falling for it.


    Pulling my Veil tight, I picked my way through the crumbling woods. That nasty feeling of panic nipped at my heels as I hurried on. We had misevaluated something. Did the Paedens think that the Sea Mother could only open her mate¡¯s crypt with Jade? Unlikely, but they could be so mistaken. Were they hoping Tamiyat would wipe us out? But then why surrender control of the mines to the elder goddess? Even if Jade were the only way in, anyone with half a tactical mind could see the stupidity in that. And that was assuming the Paedens didn¡¯t know about the hive of lakrabua. If they did know, their idiocy must have conquered their intelligence a long time ago.


    Tiny points plucked at my Veil as I moved, as if a swarm of children had taken up tugging on its hem. Our claim hadn¡¯t yet taken hold, although it carried enough weight that I might be able to ambush a hostile deity before they noticed the shimmering distortion. Mortal vision, however, would stay blissfully unaware, as evidenced by the oblivious squadrons I waded through.


    Thunder pealed as the sounds of battle faded behind me. Entangled with the tribal warriors, the Paedens had slowed in their retreat. But no reinforcements passed me as I made my way deeper into their camp. Dread spiked in my chest as rainfall struck the leaves above me. The growing storm seemed synonymous with the Sea Mother¡¯s approach. With the Apkalla missing, I wanted to find Hasda as soon as possible.


    The downpour picked up as I neared the center of the Paedens¡¯ bivouac. Tents leaned in various states of disarray, the smaller ones collapsed from their owners¡¯ hasty exits, while the larger ones yawned against their tentpoles. Shattered arrows, mangled shields, and prone bodies attested to the conflict that had visited the heart of the camp. From the dislodged Carthian armor mingled amongst the Paeden, Hasda¡¯s unit hadn¡¯t gone undetected.


    But he wasn¡¯t here, and neither were the Apkalla nor any troops of either side. It was unlikely they¡¯d gone north, which left south, towards Paeden territory, and west, a polar retreat. Signs of skirmishing went in both directions. If the Carthians had found Jade, they wouldn¡¯t need to guess which group had her.


    I would have to figure out which way Hasda went on my own.

 Chapter 92: The King

    Choosing a direction would''ve been hard, were it not for the sudden flare of sour magic on my right. It reminded me of the djinn¡¯s aura, but curdled. I rushed through the forest, summoning my Spear as I neared the nexus of energy.


    When I finally found the source, I pulled up short. The two Apkalla swirled around a wraithy figure, their wings scattering the purple fire as they battered him with their downdrafts.The eagle-headed Apkalla, a pair of wings short of his falcon-headed companion, dueled with the figure. Each collision of their swords bent the metal and flung showers of sparks in the increasing rain. Quad wings flurrying, the falcon-headed sage raked his taloned feet and dodged swipes from his quarry¡¯s sword.


    If it weren¡¯t for the telltale hue of the flame on his sword, I wouldn¡¯t have recognized the enshrouded warrior as Hasda. He was completely consumed by the flame, his eyes white with fire, arcs of energy slashing in the wake of his strikes. His movements matched the pace set by the Apkalla, his speed increasing as the battle prolonged.


    Although Carthians had fallen around them, there weren¡¯t enough bodies to account for the remainder of the squad sent with Hasda. Inkashi was missing as well, and I didn¡¯t see any sign of Jade. The scattered corpses of lightly-armored Paedens showed what had happened to the few soldiers who¡¯d stayed behind with the Apkalla. As for the sages, they fought as themselves and not under Marudak¡¯s control.


    No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than the four-winged Apkalla started to glow.


    The aura dulled with the falcon impaled on my Spear. I didn¡¯t register moving until I¡¯d flung him off and thrust the eagle-headed one through, his weight trying to drag the Spear from my hand. Hasda had reflexively guarded, but his eyes shone with no recognition of me.


    He smelled worse, now that I stood next to him. The mend in his armor had bubbled up like an infected scar and pulsed in time with his labored breathing. His sword, still angled between us, dripped liquid fire the same violet hue as the flame which engulfed every inch of him.


    I vanished my Spear. ¡°Hasda?¡±


    The white fire coating his eyes flickered before winking out. ¡°Dad?¡±


    ¡°What is this?¡± I gestured at the shroud.


    ¡°We¡­I¡­¡± He looked dazed. The fire shimmered and subsided to his shoulders, unobscuring his face. Frowning, he shook his head. ¡°We weren¡¯t supposed to use this yet. But there were gods¡­¡±


    ¡°These two?¡± I jerked my head towards the feathered corpses.


    He shook his head. ¡°There was another. She took Jade. I sent the soldiers after them.¡±


    So that¡¯s where the last of his troops went. I nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s go get her.¡±


    Power surged through the four-winged Apkalla. The body thrashed on the ground, and then settled. With a whistling wheeze, it pushed itself off the ground.


    ¡°So¡­¡± it rasped. ¡°You¡¯re the soul thief.¡±


    Golden light radiated from its body. Its wings jerked in unlife, shedding a few feathers as they tucked down on its back. Glazed eyes met my own, although there was an intelligence beneath the film.


    I summoned my Sword as Hasda helmeted his head in the djinn¡¯s fire.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°At least you finally sent the men.¡± The reanimated Apkalla coughed a laugh. ¡°Although fielding a tuzshu against me¡­¡± It shook its head. ¡°Where did you find it?¡±


    Marudak had clearly assumed control of his sage, and the fact that he could puppet the Apkalla, even in death, boded ill for how well our battle would go. Mortal proxies, even semi-divine, often lost their connection¨Cand therefore utility¨Cto their deity when they died. But Marudak was operating through the corpse with no visible exertion, which meant we¡¯d need to torch the thing through Marudak¡¯s protective shielding if we wanted to stop it.


    And we still hadn¡¯t freed Jade.


    ¡°Can you follow their trail?¡± I said as I positioned myself between Hasda and the Apkalla.


    ¡°I think so.¡±


    ¡°Then go. I¡¯ll take care of this.¡± I adjusted my grip on my Sword as I stared down the undead proxy.


    ¡°I did not give you permission to leave.¡± Marudak managed to convey boredom even through the fowl head. With a flick of his hand, he sent a burst of energy arcing towards Hasda.


    I deflected it off the flat of my blade, but Pek, that did a number on my wrists. If that was how much power he could send through a corpse, he was going to be a nightmare in person. Grunting, I squared off and planted my feet. Strong or not, he wasn¡¯t getting to Hasda.


    The avatar flicked its wings in annoyance. ¡°Must I exert myself for such a slug?¡±


    ¡°Maggots in the carcass already?¡± I flashed a grin at his avian scowl.


    ¡°Must you Carthians persist in your vexatious loquaciousness?¡± Pinions flared, the avatar flexed his hands as he approached.


    ¡°Behold! Thou shalt likewise curb thy verboseness..¡± I prepped for our collision, though I kept my aura concealed.


    ¡°Prattling simpleton.¡± Marudak dashed forward, his strike rattling my Sword nearly out of my hands. Wind rushed around the proxy as it spun, slamming its wings into me.


    This close, our limbs tangled and I couldn¡¯t get an angle with my Sword. I vanished my weapon and thrust the avatar away. As we separated, I switched to my Spear and brandished it to maintain our distance.


    ¡°You are as ignorant as a child,¡± Marudak spat. His fingers twitched as his clouded eyes tracked the point of my Spear. ¡°Stealing the souls of my sages, trespassing on sacred ground, and reviving an order that should never have seen the light of day.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t harvested these two yet,¡± I said, gesturing at his proxy and the fallen Apkalla behind him. ¡°But I¡¯d be glad to take them off your hands.¡±


    The avatar shrieked, a cry made pitiful by its stiffening syrinx. ¡°Return what is mine, at once, and leave my land.¡±


    ¡°What, this place?¡± I looked around at the forest. ¡°Seems to me you¡¯re on Carthian territory, and your mortals are trying to kidnap one of mine.¡±


    The carcass sniffed, its head twitching side to side. ¡°This smell¡­.What have you done to my realm?¡±


    ¡°You mean my realm.¡± I bared my teeth in a wide grin. ¡°And I can smell the cooking flesh from here. Your avatar isn¡¯t going to hold up much longer.¡±


    Scowling, Marudak flexed his fingers, although the digits moved perceptibly slower than before. ¡°What a nuisance you Carthians have become. Does your God of War know you antagonize a foe you cannot handle? There can be no diverting from direct conflict with me if you do not rescind your claim immediately. Your pantheon and your mortals¡¯ lives will be forfeit.¡±


    I barked a laugh, hefting my Spear. ¡°You don¡¯t get out much, do you?¡±


    ¡°I have no need.¡± The Apkalla¡¯s left eye went dim as Marudak¡¯s power burnt it, its wings sagging. ¡°My servants, with the occasional reprimand, serve me faithfully. But you¨C¡± He narrowed his remaining eye. ¡°You are the God of War. Or what¡¯s left of him.¡±


    ¡°Perceptive.¡± I shifted to his left, anticipating his next move. With his body falling apart, if he was going to attack, he¡¯d have to strike soon. His left side was deteriorating more quickly, so staying on his weak side would give me the best counters.


    ¡°So this is your declaration of war.¡± Extending his claws, he turned to shield his declining half. ¡°What a mess an errant child can make.¡±


    I surged forward, putting my Spear through his chest. His right leg buckled beneath the sudden weight, and his claws swiped nothing but air as I brought him to the ground. Crushing his ribs underfoot, I set my full weight on the shaft. It didn¡¯t kill him, obviously, but it immobilized his proxy.


    ¡°First of all,¡± I said, twisting the weapon, ¡°she is ours, not yours. You have no more claim over her than you do the dirt you¡¯re eating. Second, land you abandoned does not qualify as ¡®yours¡¯ anymore, either. And third, you¡¯re just an asshole.¡±


    ¡°I will remember your face.¡± The corpse glared at me before combusting. Divine fire, sizzling against the rain, consumed its feathers and blackened its limbs. Despite the trembles shaking its body as the power consumed, it managed a hateful look. ¡°When I come, you will be among the first to die.¡±


    ¡°Threaten me again when you¡¯re not falling to pieces.¡± I yanked my Spear out and let the last of the fire cremate the proxy.


    Rays of sunlight burst from its ribcage, a particularly thick beam from where my Spear had impaled it. Golden light mingled with the shriek fleeing its mouth, spots of brilliance dancing across its charred limbs like leaves floating down a river. With a woosh, the blaze went out, and the light with it.


    I blinked at the rain and the sudden stillness.


    Marudak was coming here. I didn¡¯t know if the Paedens had an equivalent to our portals, but a god as powerful as he could cover leagues in an instant, in all likelihood. I vanished my Spear and ran in the direction Hasda had gone. We needed to get Jade out, and fast. It was highly unlikely that the Sea Mother and Marudak would work together, but they didn¡¯t need to coordinate to crush us between two fronts.


    A peal of thunder shook the air above me. I sprinted faster. We had to get her, not soon, but now.

 Chapter 93: The Lunacy

    The last thing I expected to find when I caught up was the handful of remaining Carthians clutching their stomachs as they writhed on the ground. Hasda stood opposite Inkashi, his face sheened with sweat beneath his fiery facemask. But Inkashi¡¯s appearance was the most surprising of all.


    Dark purple bruises had bloomed across her face, her left eye and nose so puffy they protruded at nauseating angles. Her hair, slick with rain, was plastered to her neck, failing to hide the angry abrasions that ringed her throat. Although she held a short sword in each hand, she¡¯d tucked her left elbow against her side, making her guard practically useless, and she seemed to be favoring her left leg. The rope around her waist led back to Jade, who was bound and gagged behind her.


    For her part, Jade looked unharmed, although her eyes were wide with fear. She wore her human legs instead of her lamia tail, stumbling as the rope tying her to Inkashi tugged her this way and that. The terrified look she gave Inkashi made sense, but her horror didn¡¯t diminish when she saw Hasda. If anything, it worsened.


    Well this was going to be fun.


    Inkashi hopped a step back when she noticed me. Keeping her eyes on Hasda, she angled to keep her weak-side sword at Hasda while aiming her better arm towards me. ¡°Kind of hard to keep up appearances when the truth barrels over your lies,¡± she snapped.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I need more explanation than that.¡± My hand itched to summon my Sword, but my gut said that would only exacerbate the situation. I stepped forward cautiously, my hands up. ¡°What did you do to the men?¡±


    ¡°Afflicted them with minor lunacy. I thought you¡¯d appreciate my not killing them, based on your reputation.¡± She gritted her teeth as she accidentally put too much weight on her wounded leg. ¡°But that was a sham.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°You¡±¨Cshe whipped her head, glaring at me with her good eye¨C¡°are the ones releasing our ancient demons. The Sea Mother roams because you set her free. And now you seek to dig up the Forgotten One with her blood.¡± She jerked her hand at Jade.


    I was getting a little tired of the never-ending train of surprises. ¡°Who told you that?¡±


    ¡°So you don¡¯t deny it.¡± Her face was pained.


    I frowned. ¡°I want to know who¡¯s spreading these lies so I can wipe my ass with their hide. Of course we¡¯re not setting any elder gods free, ours or anyone else¡¯s. Tamiyat is a royal bitch. You think she¡¯d let foreign gods walk free after desecrating her tomb?¡±


    ¡°She thinks we want to kill Jade to break the seal on the tomb in the mines,¡± Hasda wheezed. Whatever she¡¯d done to him, he was in a lot of pain. But he wasn¡¯t bleeding, just slowly sinking lower to the ground.


    Inkashi¡¯s face pinched. ¡°It takes the blood of a god to weaken those seals. When we checked the Sea Mother¡¯s prison, we found the lock broken by dark stains, and her jailor was gone.¡±


    ¡°And Nanshe didn¡¯t tell you that Lazuli was the one who set Tamiyat free?¡± I slid towards Hasda.


    Inkashi winced. ¡°Please stop using that name. Invoking that power is dangerous.¡± She narrowed her eye. ¡°And begs the question of why you¡¯re so comfortable using it.¡±


    ¡°Because we do not fear to name what we do not fear.¡± There was still a good distance between me and the boy, but I was sure I could reach him before Inkashi could do anything, in her current state. ¡°Hasda, did you do this to her?¡±


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me,¡± he gasped around a spasm of pain. ¡°She was like that when I caught up.¡±


    ¡°Well, it certainly wasn¡¯t the mortals.¡±


    Inkashi flinched. ¡°I will speak no ill of my lord.¡±


    My eyes snapped back to where I¡¯d left the Apkalla. ¡°They did this to you?¡±


    Dropping her eyes, she shifted her weight with a little hop. ¡°Lord Marudak does as he sees fit. For my disobedience and disrespect, judgment was administered through his instruments.¡±


    What a total piece of shit.


    Out loud, I said, ¡°As a foreign god in distress on Carthian territory, you may claim sanctuary until your tribulation has passed.¡±


    Breathing fast, she glanced around the forest with her good eye. ¡°I¡­I have to go. I have to take her home. Do what I¡¯m told.¡±


    ¡°Does he have eyes and ears within the forest?¡± By now I¡¯d cut her off a direct line to Hasda, so I shifted to creeping towards her. Disarm, subdue, secure Jade. Maybe I could get her away from whatever influence Marudak held over her.


    Inkashi laughed, a fluttery, panicked sound. ¡°This is still Paeden land as well. He could come and claim her anytime he wished. But he values obedience.¡±


    ¡°I take it that means you¡¯re not going to hand her over quietly, then.¡± I spread my hands, crouching low. ¡°You know you¡¯re in no condition to do this.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not an invalid,¡± she snapped, raising her sword. ¡°I can still fight.¡±


    A stray ray of Malia¡¯s gaze rent the clouds above us, disrupting the downpour momentarily. The clouds surged, closing the gap almost immediately. As the rain returned, we pulled our eyes from the sky and locked gazes.


    Inkashi set her jaw. ¡°Even if I believe you¡¯re not trying to kill us with your tuzshu, I can¡¯t just leave, like her,¡± she hissed, her voice low. ¡°You think he¡¯d let a major goddess run away? Look how well he¡¯s handled losing some no-name minor goddess that half the pantheon didn¡¯t even know about.¡±


    ¡°That ¡®no-name¡¯ is the prime proxy candidate for the Sea Mother.¡± I stopped, crouched an arm¡¯s length away. ¡°Marudak doesn¡¯t care about her, he cares about what she could become. Tamiyat is stuck in the astral plane and, as far as we know, can¡¯t free her mate without taking Jade as her avatar.¡± I sighed. ¡°We don¡¯t have to fight. Of all the threats a pantheon can face, elder gods are the worst. Tamiyat is a threat to both our people. We could work together to stop her.¡±


    Her good eye clouded over. ¡°He said you might say that.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I was disciplined just for hearing that lie. Please, don¡¯t make my homecoming worse than it already will be.¡±


    Digging my toes into the ground, I tugged at the dormant magic. If she wasn¡¯t going to cooperate, then I¡¯d just have to do a little abducting of my own. Technically, with our claim on the land, Inkashi was a foreign god outside her territory, which meant she wasn¡¯t subject to the same protections and potential for declarations of war that she was on Paeden territory. As our claim hadn¡¯t solidified yet, the situation wasn¡¯t as definite, but I could make it work.


    If the magic would just cooperate. It wasn¡¯t like Aenea, where the land was almost dry and what little power there was rejected my Carthian pull. There was plenty of power saturating the soil, but it was unwieldy. Almost as if¡­


    As if someone else were making a claim, too.


    My face must have twisted funny because Inkashi gave me a confused look. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Can you open a portal?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Her eye narrowed. ¡°Only Marudak can.¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡± I scowled, my frown tweaked further by a tug at my bond. Malia had sensed the counterclaim, too. ¡°How fast can he get here?¡±


    ¡°As soon as he wishes.¡± She brought her right sword up, the left one trembling as her injured arm twitched. ¡°Why? What are you stalling for?¡±


    ¡°Whatever you¡¯re doing to the mortals, can you stop it?¡± I stood up and dropped my hands as she tensed. ¡°Just take a moment and touch the spirit of the earth. Does it feel Paeden to you?¡±


    She didn¡¯t relax her influence, because Hasda remained hunched over, but she did follow my suggestion. Sensing something amiss, she frowned as well as she could with her puffy lip. ¡°What is that?¡±


    A peal of thunder preceded a downpour of abnormally large raindrops. Spheres of smoky gray water bounced down through the canopy overhead, splashing wide, dark stains across the ground.


    ¡°I think,¡± I said, stepping back as steam hissed from the weird puddles, ¡°that the Sea Mother has more influence over the physical world than we gave her credit for.¡±


    ¡°But she¡¯s dead¡ª¡±


    My tackle cut off whatever she¡¯d been going to say. The rope snapped taut, dragging Jade down with us, but that couldn¡¯t have been helped. With a quick twist, I disarmed Inkashi and severed Jade¡¯s lead. Inkashi¡¯s swords must have been some Paeden variant of celestial steel, because they sliced through the thick rope with ease.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t want to fight, huh?¡± Inkashi gasped, pinned beneath me.


    ¡°Ran out of time for negotiations.¡± I rotated to look back at Hasda. ¡°You good?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± He coughed and sagged, hands on his knees. ¡°That¡¯s what women feel like every full moon?¡±


    ¡°That was mild.¡± Inkashi struggled, but couldn¡¯t free herself. ¡°Next time, the lunacy will be more severe.¡±


    I put more weight on her to keep her from moving. ¡°Take Jade and get back to Malia. I¡¯ll catch up.¡±


    Staggering, he stumbled over and picked her up. With a big smile on his face, he cut her bonds. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you.¡±


    ¡°Get me out of here, please.¡± She tugged on his hand, pulling him away from us. Around them, the fallen Carthians began to stir, bemoaning the residual effects of Inkashi¡¯s lunacy. Jade smiled at Hasda, but there was fear in her eyes. ¡°She¡¯s coming.¡±

 Chapter 94: The Tuzshu

    Atop Inkashi, I watched until Jade and Hasda were out of sight. A few of the Carthians who recovered faster stumbled after them, their swords glued to their hands from sheer exhaustion. Those who still suffered from the lingering effects of Inkashi¡¯s influence lay moaning on the ground.


    The strange rain sizzled around us, their surfaces disrupted by bubbles and steam. Dark smoke clouded their cores as something agitated the interior. Ocher tentacles burst through the film, taloned hands clawing out after. The derketo that emerged were rawer than the ones we¡¯d faced in Aenea. But while they were more primordial, they were less fashioned, too, some missing limbs or portions of their faces and tentacles. Perhaps Tamiyat¡¯s influence wasn¡¯t quite strong enough to birth them fully.


    What spawn she could conceive, however, were threat enough. The first few to emerge fell on the fallen Carthians, devouring them.


    I yanked Inkashi up, belatedly realizing I¡¯d grabbed her injured arm. ¡°Can you run?¡±


    ¡°If I need to,¡± she said through gritted teeth.


    I released her arm. As I gave up trying to open a portal, I drew my Sword and slashed a half-formed derketo that lurched at us. While I could normally fashion a portal from even the most hostile magic, the power of this land was being pulled in several different directions, and it would¡¯ve taken all my focus to open a rend. With the derketo invading, I had more pressing matters to attend to like kidnapping a foreign goddess.


    Inkashi, for her part, didn¡¯t resist. Maybe because her swords were now lost to her, buried under a swarm of burgeoning derketo, or maybe because she was taking the easy way out I offered, but at least I didn¡¯t have to drag her. Before we fled the clearing, I snatched the rising souls of the fallen Carthians. Their bodies, I had to leave to the creatures.


    Rain battered us as we raced after Hasda. Well, I ran. Inkashi half-skipped, half-limped along beside me. She kept pace, at least, but she struggled more to resist the hampering weight of the egg-droplets. As the downpour increased, I switched to my Spear. Popping the droplets before they hit the ground seemed to reduce the amount of derketo hatching, but I could only stop the ones directly in our path. Soon, a seething swarm had spawned behind us, their susurrous hissing chasing our heels.


    ¡°So, your tuzshu,¡± Inkashi gasped between breaths.


    ¡°You mean Hasda.¡± I stabbed a melon-sized raindrop before it splashed onto the ground.


    ¡°He¡¯s really not a god-killer?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I gave her a sideways look. ¡°Is that what the djinn is turning him into? Some kind of divine assassin?¡±


    ¡°He will be.¡± Her face was hard. ¡°Marudak destroyed them all, ages ago. He said they were extinct.¡±


    I scowled. That windy ass blast. Hasda himself would never turn on us. If the djinn could puppet him, however, then that rat bastard could use ¡®defending Hasda¡¯ as a loophole to attack us. I wasn¡¯t sure I could patch that gap at this point, but I would certainly be pinning the djinn down after we got out of this mess.


    For now, we had to reach the pass so I could get us to Nebesa. Either Synnefo was engaged elsewhere or he¡¯d lost the fight with Tamiyat, because the rain suddenly picked up, blinding sheets of regular-sized drops blanketing the barrage of derketo-bearing ones. While the increase slowed us considerably, the quality of the squid monsters likewise plummeted. Most barely formed functional creatures, devolving into splayed limbs and tangles of tentacles. The ones that did grow into combatants quickly fell to my Spear, but there were still dozens of them and only one of me.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The detritus of failed derketo did serve a purpose, though. They bogged the path and clung, even in lifelessness, to our ankles. With Inkashi¡¯s injuries, she struggled to keep moving against the grasping body parts, finally sagging against me. Her added weight limited my range of motion, which made it harder to keep the gurgling derketo at bay. We stumbled into a depression beneath a tree, Inkashi falling against its trunk while I kept the squidfolk back with broad sweeps.


    We hadn¡¯t reached the fallen Paedens I¡¯d seen on the way into their camp, and with the storm it was hard to judge how far we had left to go. Malia should have finished off the paltry force that had initially resisted, so either¨C


    A sharp pain spiked in my chest as our bond flared. Power sloshed across, the excess of what she was burning through with abandon. So she was fighting Tamiyat, or perhaps Marudak. Regardless, she wouldn¡¯t be coming this way anytime soon.


    I snarled as I just barely repulsed another surge of misshapen derketo. While I wasn¡¯t going to tire out anytime soon, I would eventually be overrun. There were too many of them, and I couldn¡¯t kill them all fast enough, even after switching to my Scythe. Their souls melted like morning dew and provided no energy. We would get swarmed unless something changed.


    A stray burst of Malia¡¯s gaze knifed the distant edge of the tempest. Not helpful here, but it did give me an idea. If Malia could breach the mortal plane with her astral form, perhaps I could as well. I¡¯d never tried before because when I would have needed to, I didn¡¯t have my projection, and once I did there was no need. Only Malia had done so, as a vanity endeavor during a time of peace.


    There was a slight lull in the intensity of the storm as the clouds spread to fill the gap. I threw myself backwards into the astral plane, growling as I pulled my projection on. The plane roiled with its own inclemency, the caustic space gelatinous and blurry. At the edge of my vision, the Sea Mother roared and pushed against the warbled, glassy plane. Shooting stars winged across the vastness, targeting a dark smear on the film that separated the mortal and astral realms. Far too many stars for me to consider cutting off the army at its source.


    I scowled. The blot was obviously the shadow of Tamiyat¡¯s storm, cast onto the astral plane. But the celestial realm should have separated the mortal and astral dimensions. Something must have gone terribly wrong for them to be so close.


    Time flowed sluggishly around me. My thoughts blurred, not together, but from the speed at which they moved. Inkashi still lay helpless beneath the tree as my avatar waited for my move. I had perhaps two breaths, outside, before the derketo would collapse on us and crush us.


    Malia¡¯s shriek shattered my train of thought. Behind me, near the mountain pass, her astral form had thrust through the barrier and now hung by its wings, her head and arms locked in combat with a winged minotaur the size of a mountain. Angry stars bounced around her face as she blasted her opponent with another petrifying gaze, only the bull resisted its effects and strained against her.


    Oh.


    Scrambling, I grabbed our bond with my astral hands and yanked hard.


    With a startled yelp, she tumbled back into the astral plane. She whirled and nearly blasted me with her gaze, but stopped herself at the last moment. ¡°What the hell, Charax?¡±


    ¡°No argue, listen.¡± I was down to one breath before I had to return, and now I couldn¡¯t even use my solution. But I had to convey that to Malia, and get her help, before time ran out. ¡°Astral projections in the mortal plane weaken the barrier between them. I¡¯m stuck there¡±¡ªI pointed at the blot¡ª¡°because I can¡¯t open a portal. Can¡¯t use my astral form because of her.¡± A finger jab in Tamiyat¡¯s direction.


    ¡°Just walk across the astral plane, you big idiot.¡± Malia¡¯s fangs were out.


    ¡°Deformed derketo ambush, and I lost Hasda.¡± That wasn¡¯t exactly what had happened, but I didn¡¯t have the time to explain giving him a head start so he could escape with Jade while I made sure Inkashi didn¡¯t inflict more crippling cramps on him. ¡°Plus I¡¯m kidnapping their war goddess.¡±


    She pinched the glittering bridge of her nose and sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll find Hasda. Take her through the astral plane if she can handle it and dump her if she can¡¯t. Hopefully Seppo can handle this ¡®Bull of Heaven¡¯ bastard.¡±


    I grabbed her hand as she turned away. ¡°No more astral form.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± She gave me a backhanded wave and dove out of the plane.


    With a gasp, I dropped my own projection and fell back into my earthly avatar. A derketo lurched a hand span from my face. I twirled my Scythe in an arc, splitting it in half and catching its fellows behind it. A few more sweeps cleared a small space around us, but not for long.


    ¡°Can you handle higher dimensions?¡± I snarled as I slashed at another wave of derketo.


    ¡°Can I what?¡± Back to the tree trunk, she stared up at me with the weirdest look. The rain had thoroughly drenched both of us by now, although her dress of wine took the wetness better than my robes.


    ¡°Astral plane.¡± I flung another handful of derketo away. The downpour was picking up again.


    She pushed strands of wet hair out of her eyes. ¡°I have no idea what that is.¡±


    ¡°Time to learn.¡± I vanished my Scythe and grabbed her, making sure to take her by her good arm this time, and dragged us both through the boundary.

 Chapter 95: The Birds

    Inkashi didn¡¯t kick nearly as much as I expected her to, and she handled the transition a lot better than Lazuli had. After the initial shock of being in the astral plane, she clutched my arm and huddled next to me as I led her through the vastness. She ignored Tamiyat, who was getting closer and growing more detailed, but she did see her. What she thought of the primordial, she didn¡¯t say.


    I found egress near the crest of the mountain pass and pulled Inkashi out after me. Although I¡¯d thought she had handled herself well, when we exited she started shivering and gave the sky a harried glance.


    ¡°What was that place?¡± she whispered.


    ¡°The astral realm.¡± I gripped her shoulder to keep her from pitching over. She looked really unstable on her feet.


    Shaking her head, she slid to the ground. ¡°And Marudak goes through that every time he traverses a portal? Gods help us.¡±


    ¡°He likely doesn¡¯t.¡± I tugged at the mountain magic, questing to see if I could open a portal now that I was in mostly uncontested territory. The ley of the land resisted like sticky syrup, but at least it wasn¡¯t combative. I ripped open a rend with some effort. ¡°You¡¯ve never traveled through a portal before?¡±


    ¡°Marudak has his own,¡± she said, eyeing mine with distrust. ¡°When the gods need to move, he opens the common way and carries us through. But we rarely leave the divine land, unless he grants us leave to perform our duties throughout Paedea.¡±


    I scowled. If Marudak had private pathways that weren¡¯t in the astral plane, he may have discovered, or built, a separate transcendent realm. More complications we didn¡¯t need.


    Inkashi waved a limp hand towards the sparking opening. ¡°Is that where I go to die?¡±


    ¡°What? No.¡± I wiped my face, taking the scowl with the wet sheen that had built from the natural rain. ¡°This is my maas. Inside is a fountain with healing waters, so feel free to clean yourself up. I¡¯ll be back.¡±


    She stayed seated on the ground. ¡°It¡¯s a prison.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a temporary shelter to keep you safe.¡± I frowned down at her. ¡°If you can¡¯t walk, I can carry you in there. Or you can sit here and hope the derketo don¡¯t find you. Either way, I¡¯m leaving.¡±


    Lips pursed, she looked at our surroundings, eyes boring into the trees. Finally, she said, ¡°Carry me. But I can¡¯t look like I¡¯m going willingly.¡±


    I tried to be as gentle as I could but, when she said she couldn¡¯t look cooperative, she meant she was going to kick and thrash worse than a hooked fish. By the time I got her through the portal, I was pretty sure I¡¯d added another half-dozen bruises to her limbs. As soon as the portal snapped shut, she went limp in my arms.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she gasped around ragged breaths. ¡°I didn¡¯t know if Marudak¡¯s birds were in the trees.¡±


    I grunted and set her down next to the fountain. ¡°Wash up. It should help you feel better.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not poisoned?¡±


    Rolling my eyes, I scooped up a handful and downed the water. ¡°It hasn¡¯t killed me yet.¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    With a relieved sigh, Inkashi dunked her head in the fountain and let her face soak. Her hair, fanned out like a painter¡¯s brush, stained the water wine red. She stayed under long enough that I started to question if she could still breath, but with a gasp she pulled out and collapsed against the bricks. Although her lips and eye were still puffy, they were less swollen than before, and her bruises had lightened considerably.


    ¡°I need to get one of these.¡± Eyes closed, she rested her head against the masonry and rapped the stone with her knuckles. ¡°Where did you get it?¡±


    ¡°I found it here, a long time ago. It¡¯s why I built my maas around it.¡± Shaking my arms, I prepped to reopen the portal. ¡°Wait here. I¡¯ll be back after this mess is cleaned up.¡±


    She cracked her good eye open. ¡°Is ¡®she¡¯ really back?¡±


    I paused. ¡°You saw her in the astral plane, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but¡­¡± Frowning, she waved a hand. ¡°That could have been an illusion, or a dream, or a vision.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°How many illusions have you seen conjuring armies of eldritch monsters?¡±


    ¡°Fair.¡± She dropped her gaze, running a finger along the flagstones. ¡°That¡­mortal of yours. You care about him?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Keep him away from Marudak.¡± Her face was hard. ¡°If he finds out you¡¯ve raised a new god-killer, he will tear the heavens apart trying to destroy him. Our lord is¡±¡ªshe rolled her hand, looking for the right word¡ª¡°very strong. Titanic? You call your old ones titans, yes?¡±


    I nodded. That made sense, based on the abilities other Paedens had attributed to him and how absolutely he ruled his pantheon. For him to hold complete control over the celestial pathways and beat gods into submission, he¡¯d have to be. And it also tracked with the difficulty he¡¯d given Malia.


    ¡°He was there when they bound our old ones.¡± She looked off into the distance, one hand gripping her shoulder. ¡°I think he could bind them again by himself, if they broke free.¡±


    Grunting, I tugged open a portal. ¡°So can Malia.¡±


    I stepped through and left her alone in my maas. She¡¯d be fine, for a little while at least. We, on the other hand, would probably incur a few more bumps and bruises before the day ended. The Sea Mother was approaching fast, her derketo ever increasing, and we still hadn¡¯t driven Marudak away.


    When I came out on the mountainside, Seppo and the Heavenly Bull wrestled in the stormy heavens. Seppo had assumed his astral form, augmented by a celestially-enhanced exoskeleton whose pipes glittered and hissed with compressed galaxies. Even taller than the mountains, he was still shorter than Marudak, who might not have been using any projection at all.


    The massive minotaur bristled with corded muscle. Bulky shoulders bashed the clouds aside, biceps as broad as seas bulged with the strain of wrangling Seppo. His legs, coated with tight-knit brindle brown fur, shook the ground with each hoofed step, the tallest trees barely tickling his ankles. Long ivory horns curved away from his head, gold caps gilding their points.


    And his aura. I shivered, partly because of the rain, but mostly because Marudak radiated raw, unadulterated strength. No wonder he was able to rule his pantheon through sheer force. If he hadn¡¯t transcended the realm of godhood, he was on the cusp. He was a dense nucleus of power, one which not even Seppo could turn. As I watched, several pistons on Seppo¡¯s exoskeleton snapped, leaking gas and stars.


    I sensed movement from the trees. Jade and Hasda appeared, this time with Hasda in the lead. Face pale, Jade ran behind him. Although Hasda¡¯s armor glistened in the stormy semi-darkness, it was almost dull without the djinn¡¯s ethereal fire coating it. Perhaps the djinn already knew how serious a threat Marudak was to them and had hidden himself, but whatever the reason, I was glad to see it withdrawn.


    They weren¡¯t out of the woods yet, though. While Seppo had repaired the damages to his frame and reengaged Marudak, it was only a matter of time before the Paeden god overwhelmed him. And Jade and Hasda had to pass through a wide, open patch of land to reach the mountain trail, since I couldn¡¯t open a portal down in the contested territory. So I had to hope that Marudak remained distracted enough to get them across, up the mountain, and into Nebesa.


    Malia was missing, so she¡¯d likely missed them in her search or stumbled upon another threat. Given how chaotic the land had become, it wouldn¡¯t have surprised me if one of Tamiyat¡¯s cults, like she had in Aenea, had found its way here. Vetor was gone as well, although I had no idea if he was still chasing Paedens through the forest or if he¡¯d been reclaimed.


    An explosion in the woods.


    That might have been Vetor¡¯s demise. A spirit with that much power wouldn¡¯t go out without a bang. Jade, however, thought it was the perfect distraction to dash out into the open, dragging Hasda behind her.


    Unfortunately, Marudak was paying attention. As soon as they cleared the edge of the forest, he turned. Trees crumpled beneath his hooves. Not even Seppo¡¯s straining slowed him.


    I tugged on my bond as I raced down the trail. Much as I didn¡¯t want to, I pulled on my astral form. Seppo was still in his, and Malia graced the heavens with hers as she darted above the forest. As soon as we all assumed our avatars, the deluge renewed in earnest, half-formed derketo sprouting underfoot.


    We collided with Marudak in a flurry of limbs and wings, Malia hitting his lower back as I hit his shoulders. Seppo had him around the waist, and together we tried to leverage him to the ground away from Jade and Hasda.


    Tried. He was one strong son of a bitch.


    Huffing, Marudak glared at me and snorted in my face. ¡°So, you finally sent the real gods out to play.¡±

 Chapter 96: The Minotaur

    Damn, Marudak was strong.


    Malia didn¡¯t have a strong grip, so it wasn¡¯t surprising when he threw her off, but Seppo and I had our arms around him and he nearly wriggled free. The bastard was so big, derketo droplets had enough room to hatch their cursed spawn where they landed on his shoulders. Soon, handfuls of the tentacled humanoids swarmed up his neck and down his arms, throwing themselves at us while their brethren went after his eyes.


    Bellowing, the minotaur shivered and flung the derketo from him. With a twist, he freed his arm from Seppo¡¯s hold and smashed his fist into my face. The second blow grazed my ear, but the third hammered my shoulder. He kicked and stamped, putting his hips and knees into it as he sought to throw us off.


    Behind us, Jade and Hasda struggled against the rising tide of derketo. Thankfully, the djinn¡¯s purple fire was absent from his armor, so he was staying well out of Marudak¡¯s sight. That left Hasda to fight the derketo on his own, but it was better than putting a target on his back. Once they reached the peak of the pass, Jade could open a portal and get them out. We just had to buy them enough time to battle their way through the squid warriors.


    If only Marudak would comply. Lowing, the bull surged, his muscles trembling against our weight. With a shout, he threw all his weight against us as he pitched over, trying to gore or crush us. We crashed to the ground, quickly disentangling ourselves to keep from getting pinned. Marudak surged up, eyes blazing.


    ¡°No wonder you send your women to fight. You are pathetic excuses for men.¡± His muscles trembled as he flexed his hands. ¡°Stand aside. I must collect an errant stray.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Seppo¡¯s pipes whined as he picked himself up. ¡°She is ours. You will not have her.¡±


    Marudak gave a long, bullish sigh. ¡°It is like dealing with children. Perhaps I should subjugate you, to teach you discipline.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s get you back to your paddock.¡± I summoned my Spear and checked his advance. ¡°You¡¯ll be less grumpy after you¡¯ve had your nap.¡±


    Scowling, he swiped at the derketo climbing his neck. ¡°The insolent one with the mouth. I will enjoy removing your head from your shoulders.¡±


    I raised my eyebrows and glanced between him and the Spearhead. ¡°Seppo, do you think a Heavenly Bull spitroast will taste the same as a boar?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure Loutro could make the meat passably similar, if the taste is too different.¡±


    Marudak wasn¡¯t one for banter. I didn¡¯t see when he moved, but I certainly felt when his full weight collided with my Spear and nearly snapped the shaft. He¡¯d hit it sideways, so the head glanced off his side as he threw himself at me. As he slid past my guard, he slammed his thick skull into my forehead.


    Stars floated across my vision, a few quite literal as they dislodged from my astral projection. My hook connected with his jaw, nearly breaking my fist in the process. An elbow found his softer snout, and we separated, panting.


    ¡°That all you got?¡± I flexed my hand, the pain making my smile wild.


    He snorted and lowered his head, preparing to charge me.


    A crackling arrow lanced through his shoulder, the starry head glittering with ichor as it protruded from his chest. Bellowing, he yanked the arrow the rest of the way through and snapped it.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°Eyes on the prize, dumbass.¡± Malia dipped beneath the clouds, another hissing bolt on her Warbow.


    The glare he cast over his shoulder was pure ice. ¡°Stupid whore¡ª¡±


    Now my other hand was on fire, but at least Marudak was missing a tooth. My Spear was gone as well, and my throbbing hands had found his throat. It was too thickly corded with muscle to wrap my fingers around, but not so thick that my nails couldn¡¯t delve in.


    ¡°You watch your mouth,¡± I snarled.


    Eyes bulging, Marudak slipped his arms between mine and broke my hold. He dropped his shoulder and caught Seppo, who¡¯d tried a less-than-graceful flying tackle, and threw him to the ground. Three quick darts from Malia pierced the minotaur¡¯s calf before he could stomp our pantheon head.


    The ground shook as Marudak stomped his hoof. ¡°Enough.¡±


    Spreading his arms, he stretched himself to his full height and began to glow. The air around him shimmered from heat and power, the rain evaporating, even the derketo drops. Lightning forked the sky above him, the clouds spiraling down in a vortex that threatened to swallow him. He bellowed, and space cracked.


    Where once had been a minotaur, now stood its astral equivalent. Dozens of arms sprouted from each shoulder, a half-dozen milky wings fanning behind him. Two more bovine tails joined the first, their lengths coiling and uncoiling in whip-like motions. While his head had grazed the clouds before, his waist now wore the storm like a belt. He had to get on his many hands and knees just to see us.


    As some arms pushed the storm clouds aside, others grasped at us. Malia put a dozen arrows through the palms closest to her, wings whipping to put space between herself and the hands. Seppo grabbed the wrists coming for him and turned them to earth, pinning them there with celestial spikes. I speared the ones reaching for me, slapping away the ones that avoided piercing.


    His aura was oppressive, rank like wet cow, tinting the musk of fresh rain with the stench of burnt derketo. Although his bulk slowed him down, I felt like he was building momentum for something bigger. His eyes blazed red, and his darting hands increased their tempo. Fingers found their way around Spear, arrows, and gears, clamping down on us despite how hard we fought. Marudak ignored any severed stumps, either battering us with them or regrowing the lost hands.


    I was knocked off balance by a stray swipe at my hips. He¡¯d put a ton of weight behind the blow, even though it was little more than a feint made real. Seppo crumpled beneath a barrage of twisting grabs at the pistons on his legs. Malia dove around the hewn-off hands and lumpy derketo Marudak lobbed at her. The tide was quickly shifting from buying time for Jade and Hasda to struggling to even hold our own against the Titan. Space bruised around us as we battled, dark stains and fractured space distorting the air.


    The air shifted.


    As Marudak rose into the sky, something reached down to meet him. Wispy tendrils, reddish-purple smears on the charcoal clouds, brushed against his horns and tickled his ears. When the fumes slipped inside his ears, his eyes rolled back. Lowing, he thrashed at the storm, staggering back as he swatted the air.


    ¡°NO!¡± The minotaur bellowed.


    Now disengaged, we spread out in a rough triangle around him. None of us were in range of his swipes, but, at any sudden movement, we could be. Seppo and I shared a confused look as Malia, on Marudak¡¯s flank, drew her Bow taut.


    ¡°Want me to put him down?¡± she asked. Marudak clutched his head, swaying back and forth wildly.


    I shook my head. My hands throbbed against my Spear, every muscle in my body strung tight. Pieces I¡¯d flung by the wayside because of the fight, my mind was desperately grasping for. What could launch a psychic attack of this magnitude? Why now? What enemy would have moved before our downfall, and which ally would have waited so long? What triggered the assault? Why did those threads look familiar?


    One severed end drifted in the storm, shorter than the rest latched onto Marudak.


    Astral forms.


    I dissolved my Spear and clamped my hands on Marudak¡¯s face. ¡°Drop your avatar!¡±


    Tendrils snaked down his snout, stroking my wrists.


    ¡°Are you mad?¡± Malia shouted over the rising gale.


    Seppo stomped up to pull  me away.


    I slapped the bull and leapt back, dropping my own projection in the process. ¡°No astral plane!¡±


    Malia¡¯s eyes went wide, and she released hers as well.


    Seppo hesitated only for a moment before following suit. ¡°Did you form a death pact without telling me?¡±


    Malia and I each grabbed a hand and yanked him away from the flailing minotaur.


    ¡°Tamiyat can escape the astral plane by hijacking projections,¡± Malia shouted. Now much smaller, we drew our weapons and battled our way towards the pass.


    I speared a derketo and nodded. ¡°She¡¯s trying to make Marudak her proxy.¡±


    ¡°Then why are we running away from him, instead of killing him where he stands?¡± Seppo asked. Pistons whining, he pummeled his way through a thick clump of the tentacled humanoids.


    ¡°That would just free his spirit from his body, which would make Tamiyat¡¯s job much easier.¡± Malia released a volley of arrows that left their victims smoking piles of wreckage. ¡°Our best bet is that she doesn¡¯t master him.¡±


    A thunderclap like the sound of a mountain being split in twain shook the air. The ground heaved beneath us, and the rain ceased. Not by our hand did the derketo collapse around us in unison, their sudden deaths unearthly and chilling. Behind us, Marudak¡¯s cries had ceased, and the minotaur was gone.

 Chapter 97: The Thunder

    We stood in the eerie silence.


    Frowning, Seppo turned in the direction of the explosion. ¡°You two get Jade to safety. I¡¯ll go see what happened.¡±


    Malia jerked a nod and darted ahead.


    I hesitated. ¡°Are you sure you can handle¡­?¡±


    ¡°Let me be the head for once.¡± He gave me a pinched smile. ¡°Besides, best to keep our best fighters in reserve, eh? If you don¡¯t come back, what am I supposed to do? At least this way you¡¯ll have advance warning and time to prepare.¡±


    I scowled. He had a point, but that didn¡¯t mean I had to like it.


    Thunder rumbled above us. While the rain didn¡¯t return, the clouds roiled, threatening it.


    Seppo patted my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Take care of your son.¡± And with that he sauntered off to discover the fate of the minotaur.


    I muttered some choice words at his back before turning to catch up to Malia.


    It didn¡¯t take long to find Hasda and Jade, since the purple glow of the djinn¡¯s fire illuminated the dull forest ahead of us. I wasn¡¯t sure if that boded well or ill for Marudak¡¯s fate that the djinn had deemed it safe to come out, or that there was a threat worse than the Paeden head nearby. If it wasn¡¯t him, it couldn¡¯t have been the Sea Mother, because the rain stayed blessedly away despite how dark the clouds remained.


    After an annoying game of ¡°is the light getting brighter this way or that,¡± we finally found them in a clearing. Jade hid behind Hasda, who held his flaming sword at guard. They looked relatively unharmed, although Jade was so pale it was a wonder she hadn¡¯t passed out, and Hasda was covered in clumps of soupy squid guts that the djinn¡¯s fire failed to consume.


    Malia had her Warbow out faster than I could summon my Sword.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she said, sliding forward.


    Hasda threw his arm in front of Jade, then sighed and relaxed slightly when he realized it was Malia. ¡°The tiger¡¯s somewhere in the forest. It feels¡­angry.¡±


    ¡°Angry?¡± I moved opposite Malia, covering Hasda¡¯s flank. ¡°Why do you say that?¡±


    ¡°Its aura is radiating pure fury.¡± He shook his head, his eyes scanning the woods. ¡°Even in the mines, it was never this upset. But it keeps circling us.¡±


    ¡°Have you tried portalling out?¡± Malia sighted down the shaft, squinting at something she sensed but I didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Can¡¯t. She¡¯s watching.¡± Jade sounded terrified. ¡°We need to get out of here.¡±


    ¡°We will. Soon.¡± Hasda shifted in time with my circling, his eyes boring into the trees as if to see through them. Tightening his grip on his sword, he gave me a quick glance. ¡°Every time we move, the tiger gets closer.¡±


    Malia sent her own glare at the foliage. ¡°I¡¯ll hunt it down. Get her to the boundary. You should be able to open a portal there.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Hasda¡¯s face was pinched. ¡°Don¡¯t hurt it. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s wrong, but something is setting it off. We should figure out what triggered it and help it, not kill it.¡±


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°We have bigger things to worry about.¡± Flicking her tail, Malia frowned at him. ¡°Your objective is to get Jade out, safely, as soon as possible. Your father and I will watch over you and keep any threats away. Any threats.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t kill it if we don¡¯t have to.¡± I shook my head at Malia¡¯s scowl. Thunder rumbled overhead. ¡°But we do need to get moving. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Hasda didn¡¯t look convinced, but he followed orders. Taking Jade¡¯s hand, he tugged her along, his sword flickering oddly in his other hand. Malia shot me a frown before darting off into the woods. With the canopy in the way, she¡¯d have a hard time finding us or the tiger from the air, but I trusted her tracking abilities.


    Rain pattered against the leaves as we moved, the soft, comforting drumming of regular drops against the leaves. No swollen balls bearing derketo spawn, no raucous winds. The teeth seemed gone from the storm, replaced only by the looming threat of the Kydronian tiger. Hasda twitched almost as much as Jade as we went. Every twig snap, every rumble of thunder, had his head whipping around to the sound. When I asked about the tiger¡¯s presence, he said it wasn¡¯t constant, and that it was hopping around almost instantaneously.


    As we neared the start of the trail, the heartwood of the trees stood bare. Piles of bark, stripped from the trunks, lay in piles that reeked of cat urine. Scattered fragments of derketo lay littered amongst upturned earth, further evidence of the tiger¡¯s destructive claws.


    Thunder rumbled.


    Behind us, Malia drew her Bow all the way back. ¡°Something¡¯s coming.¡±


    A dark orange blur shot out of the woods. Dodging Malia¡¯s shot, it ducked past her before she could bring her knives out. The tiger was a slippery bastard, and not because of its wet fur. It twisted its shoulders nearly onto its hindquarters, its side bent sharply as it reversed direction out of my reach. Kicking up sod, it darted around me and collided with Hasda.


    The purple fire went out with a whoosh as they tumbled to the ground. Snarling, they grappled with each other, rolling over and over. The tiger¡¯s stripes lit a brilliant sky blue as it fought for dominance against my boy. Hasda, swordless from the tackle, had both hands buried in the tiger¡¯s scruff, trying to wrest it to the ground. They yowled in each other¡¯s faces as the tiger failed to break Hasda¡¯s hold.


    Finally, they deadlocked, a contest of wills as they stared each other down. Hasda¡¯s feet were buried almost to his ankles in the soft ground, the tiger similarly entrenched. Hasda held the cat at arm¡¯s length, baring his teeth at its low, throaty growl.


    I drew my Sword and approached.


    ¡°Let me handle this,¡± Hasda gasped. The tiger shook its head, but Hasda held on.


    Frowning, I stopped and vanished my Sword. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Later.¡± He strained as the tiger pushed against him again. Hissing, Hasda put his head against the tiger¡¯s, their eyes nearly touching.


    The tiger bared its fangs and roared. Tail flicking, it twisted its head away.


    Hasda finally let go. ¡°I¡¯m not the threat.¡±


    Slowly, they backed away from each other, never breaking eye contact.


    Jade slipped around Hasda and approached the tiger, hugging its neck when she got close enough. Burying her face in its fur, she whispered something in its ear in that same lilting language she used with the djinn. The tiger growled, but it didn¡¯t fight her, as it had Hasda. But, finally, it dropped its eyes and pulled away, padding off into the forest.


    Malia scowled as she watched it go. ¡°What was that all about?¡±


    Breathing a sigh of relief, Hasda shook himself and let the spectral fire wash over his armor again. ¡°This is new territory, and the tiger isn¡¯t the alpha yet. Anything with power is a challenge to that.¡±


    ¡°Hasda smells like¡­¡± Jade paused. ¡°Well, the whole land smells like her, because she¡¯s trying to claim it. I told Vabir the real threat was elsewhere, so he¡¯s hunting.¡±


    ¡°Vabir is the tiger?¡± Malia asked.


    Hugging her arms, Jade nodded. ¡°Can we hurry? She¡¯s close now.¡± She rubbed her shoulders. ¡°Really close.¡±


    Thunder rumbled.


    I glanced at the sky, but no derketo-laden rain tumbled through the leaves. ¡°How much time do you think we have?¡±


    ¡°Not enough,¡± Malia snapped. Snakes hissing, she let her Warbow go slack, although she kept the arrow nocked ¡°You take point?¡±


    Grunting, I summoned my Spear and jogged past Hasda and Jade. ¡°Keep her close,¡± I muttered. ¡°And keep up.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t much of a march to make our way to the trail. With the Sea Mother¡¯s supernatural deluge of squid men stopped, we met with no resistance during our trek save that of the elements. Evidence of the derketo dotted the forest floor, although the dilapidated state they were born into made it hard to tell whether they¡¯d fallen in battle or simply from their bodies being unable to sustain them.


    Human bodies mixed with the sea creatures when we reached the battlefield at the base of the mountain. Some Paeden, but mostly Carthian. The honor guard that the Tingid elder had selected were among the dead, felled in the thickest section of the fighting. While I gathered the souls of the tribesmen and Seppo¡¯s soldiers, Malia collected the Tingins. My broad strokes against her thin swipes, coarse complimented by fine. The Paedens we left alone. Our claim was not yet sure upon this land, and even if it were, it would be the Paedens¡¯ responsibility to reap their own. But it was still sad, the waste of life.


    Among the living, Jade grew more anxious the longer we took to harvest the dead. Hasda did his best to comfort her, but I suspected it wasn¡¯t the corpses around us that bothered her. She kept shooting nervous glances at the sky, which had darkened considerably, and looking with longing at the path up the mountain.


    Still, collecting the dead didn¡¯t take that much time, and we were halfway up the mountainside when the rain began in earnest. We hurried as fast as we could, Malia cursing the storm and the land for her inability to fly us up the mountain or open a portal. Jade¡¯s eyes took on a distant look, and when she started muttering to herself about Tamiyat¡¯s presence, she didn¡¯t seem cognizant of her surroundings. Despite that, she marched along with us, and before long we saw the crest of the pass.


    Thunder rumbled.

 Chapter 98: The Snap

    Jade stood at the top of the pass, shaking. ¡°She¡¯s here!¡± Hands over her ears, her eyes were wide, her face contorted in pain. ¡°Don¡¯t let her¡ªno!¡ªhere! Go away!¡± She screamed and collapsed on the ground, grinding her palms like she wanted to crush her ears into her skull. Her panicked eyes darted around, not registering any of us.


    ¡°Is it Tamiyat? I¡¯ll fight.¡± Hasda¡¯s face was as white as his knuckles. It was a wonder he hadn¡¯t bent the hilt of his sword with that death grip. ¡°Let me help her.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    I shoved him into Malia¡¯s arms. ¡°Keep him here, and safe.¡±


    She looked confused but wrapped her arms more tightly around him.


    ¡°No!¡± Hasda¡¯s face fell. ¡°I want to help. Please.¡± He struggled against Malia¡¯s hug.


    I shrugged off the mounting tension and reached for my astral form. Meeting Malia¡¯s eyes, I said, ¡°Don¡¯t follow me.¡±


    ¡°You old idiot.¡± Her mouth fell open. ¡°If anyone should be going, it¡¯s me. I¡¯m nearly a Titan myself.¡±


    She sounded almost guilty admitting it. Huffing a laugh, I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck. ¡°I¡¯ll be quick.¡± And with that, I placed my bony hand on Jade¡¯s forehead and tipped backwards.


    A nest of thick purple tentacles buried the faint point that was Jade¡¯s astral projection. It was little more than a milky-green pearl, since the lamia was nowhere near crafting herself a higher body, but Tamiyat bombarded it with her corrupting influence nonetheless. The Sea Mother¡¯s words thundered across the astral plane, commanding Jade open herself and submit to the elder goddess¡¯ will.


    Since I¡¯d transitioned while physically in contact with Jade, I ended up in the middle of the heavy bundle. The living rope pressed against me, pinning my arms to my sides and threatening to snap my legs. No matter how I twisted, I couldn¡¯t find purchase on their slimy surface, and the harder I struggled, the more infuriated I became.


    We¡¯d already beaten off two invasions into Tingid, and the Paedens had yet to learn. Jade was ours, and nobody was going to take her from us. Not the Paedens, not Marudak, and especially not Tamiyat¡ªwho¡¯d had the gall to hurt Malia. I suspected she¡¯d been behind the Sisters in Ibithia, too, but even if she wasn¡¯t, well, what did it matter? She wouldn¡¯t even bat an eye smearing Hasda across the earth, given half a chance.


    This was my home. These were my people. And she could piss off.


    Without really thinking about it, I bit the nearest thread. Instantly the pressure withdrew, the ropes retracting, a strange pink powder hissing from where I¡¯d bit them. They curled behind the heart-achingly beautiful woman form of Tamiyat, who stood galaxies tall off in the distance.


    ¡°What an insolent child.¡± Disgust and disappointment filled the void, her voice collapsing on me with its weight. ¡°I¡¯d thought you more well-mannered than that.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, bitch.¡± My skeleton expanded as I poured power into it. Unlike the fleshed-out projection I¡¯d tried to fuel on my last incursion into the higher plane, this was stable and solid as it grew. I¡¯d never reach the heights an eldritch being could achieve, but I didn¡¯t need to. My bones felt hard as crystals and durable as the purest celestial steel. I let the flow of battle wash over me, shushing the small voice that protested about revealing all my secrets as I gave in to the berserker state. I didn¡¯t need my experience with Seppo¡¯s mother to know I wasn¡¯t beating Tamiyat today, but I could still drive her off.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    She folded her arms and frowned as she watched my stature increase. ¡°What a pleasant parlor trick. If only you¡¯d shown me your potential before, I could have offered you so much better.¡±


    My fingers folded around the cool, reassuring grip of my Sword as it slipped into my palm. I trusted my instincts to transition the weapon into the astral plane, and the spread of its weight felt properly proportioned. I grinned, exposing all my teeth. I could rot in Peklo, but this was going to be very, very satisfying.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Real consternation spilled across her face as her mask of confidence slipped.


    Her head came off in one stroke. A clean cut, if I did say so myself. The pressure against my spirit lightened slightly, although the grit of the realm remained.


    ¡°Can¡¯t infatuate the dead.¡± I knew my face was feral as I leered down at her head, her face frozen in shock. Her charms probably wouldn¡¯t have swayed me even if I¡¯d been in a more alive, human projection, but they¡¯d done precious little against mere bones. This aspect probably didn¡¯t have combat potential anyways, and simply severing its head wouldn¡¯t have killed it. But it certainly made a statement.


    A thoroughly enraged dragon crashed down on me. ¡°HOW DARE YOU?¡±


    ¡°How dare you?¡± I flung her taloned feet away, propelled backwards from the force of the collision. Sword held at guard, I prepared for another attack or my own strike. ¡°Jade is ours. Piss off.¡±


    The dragon¡¯s glowing eyes narrowed. ¡°YOU WILL SUFFER.¡±


    ¡°Not as much as you.¡±


    Her dragon breath came like a waterfall of stars. Blurs of orange, white, and red flecked the white-blue torrent that lanced towards me. As I pointed my Sword towards the stream, I willed it into my Spear. The weapon shifted, the point making the blast umbrella in front of me. Still, my arms nearly shattered as the full force impacted against the spearhead, and flecks of galactic dragonfire scored my bones. The pits and chunks weren¡¯t enough to break my stance, but they did breach my pain receptors, dull thuds of warmth that stung briefly before being replaced by the chill of the void.


    Setting my heels, I put my weight behind the Spear and thrust it into the stream. It lanced up the dragonbreath like a bolt of lightning, traveling so fast it caught even Tamiyat off guard. The spangled cascade cut off abruptly, the Sea Mother jerking back as the Spear sliced her cheek. And kept going, flying off into the void beyond. Wherever it had gone, it didn¡¯t respond to my summons, leaving me with just my Sword.


    My knees cracked and my ribs groaned. Loops of sea-green serpent coiled around me, crushing my bones. She hadn¡¯t yet wound herself around my arms, small as I was compared to her, although she looked to simply squash me with her sheer bulk. One arm became entangled, but with my free hand I stabbed and hacked at the glittering scales. More than one blow bounced away harmlessly, like Hasda¡¯s sticks against the forest trunks as he pretended to fell the trees. But one strike, against the grain, caught under the edge of a scale, and I turned my swordpoint against it again and again.


    I never thought I¡¯d see the day when my Sword snapped, but it did. Still I hammered against her hide, the jagged edge half the length of its former glory. It was a tool, and that was all I needed. Sparks flew like shooting stars as I struck her scales, but eventually something gave. One blow found the softer flesh, and the serpent shrieked as it contracted.


    The cries nearly drowned out the horrible shattering sounds my bones made, and I could tell by the way my feet dangled in the starry abyss that I was going to need a long time to heal. My spirit was finally beginning to falter from sustaining the largest astral form I¡¯d ever held on nothing but rage and sheer determination, and I¡¯d only managed to land essentially a scratch. And only that because she¡¯d held still and let me. I couldn¡¯t tell which stars floating in my vision were real ones, which meant I didn¡¯t have much time left in this fight.


    But Tamiyat retreated to the furthest edge of my vision, lengths coiling together as she withdrew. Her headless human form walked along the ridges of the serpent, dragging a dragon wing behind. A taloned limb passed through her as the dragon pawed the air. My head thundered with the effort of containing the vision of her disparate forms.


    Two massive eyes opened before me. The galaxies in their irises swirled as they focused on me. CREDIT WHERE IT IS DUE, CHILD. YOUR SPIRIT IS ADMIRABLE. The eyes narrowed. AND WASTED, IN YOUR CURRENT STATE. TO ENDURE MY FORMS IN TURN, AS YOU DID... Waves shimmered through the fabric of reality, as if the eyes shook an invisible head. RIVALED ONLY BY YOUR MATE. I WOULD BE PROUD TO HAVE YOU BOTH AS MY ALLIES.


    ¡°Eat shit, fishface.¡± My teeth chattered as I said it, but that didn¡¯t diminish my loopy, overconfident grin.


    The eyes faded. IN TIME, YOU WILL TURN. THEY ALWAYS DO.


    A sudden pressure pushed me against the film that bounded the astral plane from reality. With a shuddering tear that broke more bones than I had the strength to count, Tamiyat forcibly transitioned me back to the mountainside. And she was kind enough to open the rent several feet above the ground.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got a problem.¡± Warbow out, Malia had her back to me as she scanned the mountainside. ¡°Jade isn¡¯t respond¡ªholy shit.¡±


    My landing was a lot less graceful than I wished. Without my legs, it was more of a conscious fall¡ªI couldn¡¯t even convince myself of the lie that it was even partially controlled¡ªand whatever witty remark I¡¯d thought up flitted away as I passed out. I had just enough energy left to process that Hasda wasn¡¯t in my field of vision before I collapsed.

 Chapter 99: The Stargazer

    Swimming.


    My mind floated through a vast expanse. Thick as stew, the space around me glittered with uncountable stars. It reminded me of the astral plane, but it wasn¡¯t. Not because Tamiyat¡¯s toxic influence was absent, but because the fabric was a warm velvet, whereas the astral plane was a black satin. Ghostly comets traced their journeys across the region, their milky tails smearing the cosmos. Galaxies whorled, though a few were cerulean halos with flashing golden centers.


    Centerpiece of this vastness was a small girl sitting in a depression of darkness, singing a hushed song. Her hair, sparkling tails like the arms of a galaxy, spread behind her, the tips blurring in a way that made it hard to tell where her hair ended and the ether began. Despite her size, her presence filled the celestial realm. But it wasn¡¯t just her aura. The girl herself seemed to dwarf all around her. It was a strange feeling to reconcile with what my eyes told me.


    Her fingers trailed through a universe at her feet. Dust scattered from its limbs, stars bouncing off her nails and each other. Her small smile, soft on her young face, was the twin of the Spinster¡¯s, and the girl herself could have been the Prime in her youth for how striking the resemblance was. But if this girl was her sister, she seemed the nicest of the bunch.


    I waded through the thickness around me. Flashes of light in my peripherals told me I must have stumbled through a cluster of stars, but I didn¡¯t dare take my eyes off the girl. The Spinster had said she was looking for one of her sisters, and considering how alien this space felt, this very well could be the absent one. The Spinster had spoken of her missing sister with a hint of fear that made me wary.


    The girl¡¯s voice rose with her song. As the notes danced up and down, the stars at her feet pulsed in time. Her hands, gentle but sure, sculpted the galaxy into a spiral. Twirling it, she spun it like a top onto the velvet. Pleased, she hummed a different tune and scooped up another handful of stars.


    It was like watching a child play on the beach. Her movements, her song, her carefree innocence. And yet her presence conveyed a weight far exceeding her short stature, but with none of the malice that had tinted the other Primes.


    ¡°Who wanders in my garden?¡± she asked the universe in her hand.


    I stopped, letting myself hang in space.


    She glanced back, her hair scattering stardust as it slid across her neck. ¡°And legless, yet he wanders. How?¡±


    ¡°Dreams do tend to behave in strange ways.¡±


    She tilted her head back, letting her hair cascade behind her. ¡°My garden is dreamy?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not exactly what I meant.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She spun, kicking up stars from the depression like underwater sand. ¡°You meant, are you really here? What a strange question to ask.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°It¡¯s not so strange when almost every visit I¡¯ve had by one of your kind has been within one.¡±


    ¡°Visit? My kind?¡± Her brows scrunched together. ¡°You¡¯ve come to me, and not I to you. But others have.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°You¡¯ve met my sisters?¡±


    ¡°Two of the four.¡± I shrugged at her confused look. ¡°They never gave their names. But one mentioned an absent sister, and I¡¯m wondering if she meant you.¡±


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t know their names, how did you invite them?¡±


    I coughed a laugh. ¡°It wasn¡¯t my idea. They came of their own volition.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Pushing herself out of the divot, she swam over to another cluster of stars and started absently shaping a new galaxy. As she twisted a band around her fingers, she stared under me. ¡°Your legs are gone. I can grow you new ones.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps another time,¡± I said, shifting uncomfortably.


    Her brow arched in confusion. ¡°Whatever for? I haven¡¯t been gone so long that you actually like losing limbs, have I?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No, but I¡¯ve had enough dealings with higher beings, and I don¡¯t need to be indebted to any, any more than I might already be.¡±


    Her laugh was like wind chimes, gently disturbed in the wind. ¡°Owe me? You?¡± Another tinkling laugh. ¡°When a flower blooms, does it thank the gardener that grew it? Does it owe them its life?¡± Smiling, she rolled onto her stomach. Her eyes sparkled in the starlight. ¡°What a strange thought for a plant. The gardener tended it for their own happiness. Its beautiful blossom is payment enough.¡±


    ¡°Are you saying I¡¯m a flower?¡± I found it hard to believe that she would lend her aid without cost. Whatever she claimed her reason was¨Caloofness, transcendence, charity, self-indulgence¨Cthese creatures almost never gave selflessly. There was always a reason, and I didn¡¯t need myself bound by what was perhaps the most dangerous of the Primes.


    ¡°I mean that my gift is free.¡± Her eyes drifted back to the galaxy her fingers absently toyed with. ¡°And, like a flower, it shouldn¡¯t even cross your mind to pay me back.¡±


    ¡°And why is that?¡± I couldn¡¯t keep the skepticism from my voice.


    She scowled. ¡°I do it for my own enjoyment. Seeing you flourish from my grafts is all I need.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°You¡¯ll forgive me if I find that hard to believe. Especially given how your sisters seem intent on using me and those around me for their own devices.¡±


    Her eyes glinted with a mischievous light that immediately reminded me of Malia, but in a¡­plainer way? Pure, innocent troublemaking, untainted by craftiness or a web of manipulations. But I still had a feeling I wasn¡¯t going to like whatever she had planned.


    Rolling the galaxy with both hands, she set it adrift in the void. ¡°Does a seed resist the rain? Can it hold its roots within its shell, refusing to sprout?¡± Her eyes snapped up to mine, her smile widening. ¡°Can you?¡±


    I opened my mouth, but found my words stifled by unease. Or, rather, the sudden tingling in my hips. Like a disturbed nest of ants, a skittering sensation filled the hollow rings where the tops of my legs had been. I glanced down, but no miraculous growth dangled beneath me.


    ¡°The seeds are already in the pot.¡± The girl chuckled. ¡°They will flower as they will.¡±


    Well, that was just great. Not that I thought a faster recovery was bad, but I hadn¡¯t even seen her move in my direction, and yet she¡¯d been able to affect the very substance of my being. And what this whole interaction hinged on was the massive ¡°if¡± of whether she really expected no return on the investment. But then, if she¡¯d done something to me without even appearing to, was it really that much of an effort on her part? Her childlike persona was impenetrable, assuming it even was an act.


    My head hurt trying to work through all the possibilities. I just didn¡¯t know enough about these Primes. But I could see if I could get an answer to the question she¡¯d ignored before.


    She tilted her head again. ¡°What¡¯s that look for? Is the pain too great?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head. ¡°I was just wondering. Are you the missing sister?¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t be me. I¡¯ve never left my garden.¡± She looked confused. ¡°Unless you mean my oldest sister? But she¡¯s not missing, either.¡±


    I rubbed my forehead and sighed. ¡°The second Prime I met said she couldn¡¯t find and hadn¡¯t heard from one of her sisters in a long time. Considering the first one only spoke in prophecies and riddles, I only have her word to go on.¡±


    The girl nodded. ¡°She keeps to herself. But she¡¯s not missing, she¡¯s just afraid.¡±


    ¡°Afraid of what?¡±


    ¡°Do you know what they used to call us?¡± She grabbed another tuft of stars and smushed it into a lumpy clump. ¡°The Ends of the Earth. Because of what we saw, where we stood, what we were. But it isn¡¯t just the earth that will see its end.¡± Her face twisted in anger as she pinched off chunks from the cluster. ¡°All of the realms, those under and above, will cease when the oldest sings. So every year she hides and cuts out her tongue, and every year it grows back. And still she stays away, and keeps herself from singing, so that life and my garden may continue.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± What could I say to that? That was a horrible way to live. ¡°Can we help her?¡±


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t need your pity. It¡¯s her burden to bear.¡± The words sounded rote, as if she¡¯d repeated them often. Which was strange, considering she¡¯d been here alone for who knew how many centuries. ¡°And¨C¡±


    She froze, staring at something over my shoulder. When I turned, I didn¡¯t see anything unusual, just countless stars spread across the vastness. But she swam over me, her face riddled with confusion.


    ¡°A black star?¡± Head bent at an odd angle, she cupped empty space and stared at it as she circled the point. ¡°Someone poisoned my garden?¡± Breaking her stare with nothing, she locked her eyes on me.


    I shuddered. Now there was the predatory power I¡¯d come to expect from Primes. I raised my hands. ¡°It wasn¡¯t me.¡±


    ¡°You will sleep, and never come back here.¡± Sneering, she flicked her hand.


    I didn¡¯t feel any impact, nothing painful or even a touch, but my eyes collapsed against my will. Just before sleep claimed me, I cemented the memory in my mind. The last thing I needed was her doing something to make me forget our meeting. The existence of that black star felt important. When I woke up, I would figure out what.

 Chapter 100: The Brood

    Smooth scales slithered across my mouth. It was a comfortable sensation until tiny, clawed feet scampered across my face, poking my eyes and nose. A small, bundled weight bounced off my stomach, skittering away in a flurry of hisses. Claws raked my face in answer as the creature on my face darted after whatever was scampering across the flagstones. Groaning, I slowly opened my eyes.


    The air smelled like my maas, although the creamy white pavilion I lay under was new. My bones moaned in protest as I rolled on my side, my ribs audibly creaking. Everything hurt to move, including my knees, which had thankfully returned along with my legs during my slumber.


    Propped up on my elbow, I found the source of the disturbance to be two emerald-scaled lizards, no bigger than kittens. They had the most ridiculous proportions, with the coordinated grace of very young juveniles. Stumbling along on stubby legs, they had round bodies with stumpy tails and necks longer than their bodies and tails combined. Golden frills ridged their angular heads, and one snapped its tiny, triangular teeth at the other, which held a strip of worn leather in its mouth.


    A silver portal snapped open in my peripheral vision, and Phemonoe stumbled through it. ¡°Gods damn it, you little devil! Get back¨CCharax?¡±


    ¡°Hi.¡± I settled on my side, watching the empty-mouthed lizard pounce on its companion. They tussled, but the one who¡¯d stolen the leather refused to surrender its prize. Lots of snarling and snapping ensued.


    Phemonoe sighed and slipped over to scoop them up. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re awake again. They¡¯ve been almost as much trouble as Malia.¡±


    No sooner had she spoken the name than the violet of Malia¡¯s portal arced in the air, shearing the space by the fountain. It was hard to miss how upset she was, what with the flurry of sparks flying from her normally precise portal, the agitation twanging our bond, and the furious scowl on her blood-flecked face as she emerged through the rent. Before I got a chance to say anything, she collided with me and wrapped me in a tight squeeze. ¡°You stupid dumbass.¡±


    ¡°Love you, too. Hurts to breathe,¡± I gasped.


    Snakes writhing, she pushed herself up and glared at me. ¡°You deserve it.¡± She snuck a quick swipe at her eyes before flashing me a fang-filled smile. ¡°Did you miss the part where you fell out of the sky with half your body gone? And then didn¡¯t wake up for two years?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°That long?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± She jerked a nod, lines crinkling the corners of her eyes as she strained at the wetness. ¡°Phe¡¯s been keeping an eye on your mind, when she isn¡¯t chasing the twins, to make sure you healed properly.¡±


    ¡°Where did they come from?¡± I glanced over at the lizards, who¡¯d mostly settled down in the Oracle¡¯s arms. One was laying primly, nestled in her elbow, but the other had dropped its leather scrap in favor of chewing on her sleeve.


    ¡°Hasda¡¯s brood.¡± Her mouth quirked as she said it, a twist that conveyed an underlying meaning I didn¡¯t quite catch. ¡°But, more importantly, now that you¡¯re awake, Phe can finally tell us about whatever was so important she had to wait until you came to.¡±


    I put a finger on her lips and tilted in the Oracle¡¯s direction. ¡°What do you mean, Malia¡¯s been trouble?¡±


    After setting the hydras down, Phemonoe folded her hands in front of her and gave me a weary smile. ¡°We now occupy all of Aenea and half the land from it to Sunai. Further, Carthian ships have been harassing the Paeden coastline from the Aenean ports all the way up the islands. And she¡¯s been trying to get Seppo to launch his ship towards the Stitcher for at least a year now.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    I glanced back at Malia, who rolled her eyes.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mope,¡± she growled around my finger.


    Grunting, I strained up and kissed her jaw. ¡°When have you ever?¡±


    Her tail thumped against the bed. ¡°So, about that prophecy of yours.¡±


    Phemonoe dropped her gaze. ¡°I¡­couldn¡¯t reveal much before. But I explained that to Charax.¡±


    ¡°You did.¡± I struggled back up on my elbows as Malia shifted to lay across my lap. ¡°I take it the danger is passed?¡±


    ¡°Some of it.¡± She rubbed her wrist. ¡°Well, we¡¯re out of the shallows now.¡±


    ¡°So what can you tell us?¡± Malia¡¯s wings shivered.


    Shaking her head, Phe folded her arms and pursed her lips. ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t want to tell you. The branches that have been pruned involved your latest confrontation with the Sea Mother.¡± Her eyes took on a haunted look as she spoke. ¡°I saw paths where the Sea Mother broke free and conquered all, where Jade was taken and forced into her proxy, where¡­where Hasda fell in combat, Charax.¡±


    Malia and I stared at her blankly.


    She laughed nervously, her breath shaking. ¡°And those are the milder ones. The further into the depths we go, the worse the vision gets.¡±


    ¡°How bad?¡± Malia¡¯s voice was hard.


    Phemonoe shook her head. ¡°I cannot say.¡± She held up a hand before Malia could protest. ¡°This vision was not a normal divination. I could see myself talking with Charax before you went to Tingid, and one errant word would send the augury splintering into a dozen fume-filled pits. The paths would overlap, so even mentioning the danger to Hasda could lead to his maiming, or blindness, or death. Ends where he and Jade never met again, or her mind was so broken from the Sea Mother¡¯s control that she¡¯d lost herself and left him heartbroken.¡± Tears pooled in her eyes. ¡°It is so hard to see what I can say without breaking things.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re revealing this now,¡± Malia said, the edge in her tone dulled.


    Letting her head fall back, Phemonoe blew a breath into the air. ¡°I can see one road clearly now. Hasda will not die before becoming the next Carthian hero, so long as he concludes his Trials.¡±


    Malia¡¯s fangs clicked together. ¡°So he must remain on the path of his Trials? What if he fails them? Or we send him against the Sea Mother as his Trial?¡±


    Phemonoe laughed and shook her head. ¡°The natural path of his Trials, and that alone. Sending him on a suicide mission will kill him, so don¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°The Stitcher has an army of undead, correct?¡± I shifted my weight, grunting at the soreness in my wrists. ¡°Recovering the Staff that the Stitcher stole was supposed to be his Third Trial. So he can just complete it with impunity?¡±


    Frowning, Phemonoe searched our faces. ¡°No. Just because he is safe from death doesn¡¯t mean he''s immune from all harm. But¡­I can say this. Whatever happens, the Stitcher will be his final Trial. He will either be worthy of being a hero, or incapable of filling the role.¡±


    Malia hummed and stroked my leg. ¡°I¡¯ll make some adjustments, then.¡±


    A pair of splashes sounded from the fountain, followed by frothing water and snarling and snapping. The hydras hissed at each other, heads protruding from the water like swamp monsters. While they tried to puff themselves up and look intimidating, they lacked the fangs to put any bite behind their nips. A lunge, and the pair disappeared beneath the water.


    ¡°Kas! Mar!¡± Phemonoe darted over and dragged them out of the fountain, doing her best to disentangle them. ¡°Honestly, you two are the worst.¡±


    ¡°When did they hatch?¡± I asked as Malia curled closer.


    ¡°Mm, a month or so ago.¡± Her wing grazed my back as she settled. ¡°The male, Kas, has already eaten three of Phaeus¡¯ skewers and a quarter of an anvil. Mar is a princess by comparison.¡±


    ¡°And Hasda isn¡¯t raising his own because?¡±


    She gave me a sly side-eye. ¡°He¡¯s training with the troops I¡¯ve mustered in Frischii. It was the only way I could get him and Jade apart.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°And they needed to be separated, why?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know I very nearly gave him ambrosia.¡± Her smile blended coyness with annoyance. ¡°But I thought you¡¯d want a say in that, given how outspoken you were about it last time.¡±


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t ready for it then!¡±


    ¡°And now?¡± She gave me a slow, meaningful blink.


    I paused. Giving him ambrosia would push him towards demigodhood, although he wouldn¡¯t be able to cross the border fully until he¡¯d finished his Trials. But, perhaps, with the boost from the heavenly food, he could wield celestial steel. The fact that Malia had waited to discuss this with me meant she was less likely to carelessly throw him away, but getting some divinity in him wouldn¡¯t hurt.


    ¡°While you¡¯re ruminating, here¡¯s another straw to chew on.¡± She sighed and tucked her wings on her back, the feathers tickling my stomach. Her snakes hid her face from me. ¡°I laid an egg.¡±


    ¡°You what???¡±


    ¡°Am I interrupting something?¡± Phemonoe held the dripping hydras in the air, one in each hand.


    Malia smiled at her. ¡°Not at all. Go send those to Jade and tell her to expect me. Charax and I have something we need to discuss in private.¡±


    The Oracle gave us a look that said she thought that a thinly-veiled excuse, but she opened her silver portal and took the hydras with her, leaving us alone.

 Chapter 101: The Catch-up

    When the Oracle was gone, Malia rolled on her back and trailed a finger down my chest. ¡°I know you have questions.¡±


    ¡°Plenty. LIke how in the world that even happened.¡± I gave her a stern look before letting myself fall on the bed. While my body had healed, I still needed to recover my stamina, apparently. And my head was starting to spin from sitting up so long, never mind all of Malia¡¯s fun surprises. Staring at the pale cloth above us, I said, ¡°So we¡¯re going to have a kid?¡±


    Laughing, she slid off me and sidled up under my arm. ¡°Who knows? I don¡¯t even know if it¡¯s fertilized.¡±


    ¡°But you still laid one.¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm.¡± She purred and snuggled closer. ¡°Large, dimpled, light green with brown speckles.¡±


    I hugged her close. ¡°And how long ago was it?¡±


    ¡°Before Aenea.¡± Her tail flicked back and forth, messing up the sheets. ¡°I would¡¯ve told you sooner, but with the Sea Mother and Hasda¡¯s Trials, I didn¡¯t want you distracted during combat.¡±


    ¡°You mean worrying about you fighting after potentially giving birth to our child.¡±


    She swatted my side. ¡°Don¡¯t be so dramatic.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°So, when will you know if it¡¯s viable? And where did you hide it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you with the understanding that you¡¯re not going to immediately get up and go see it,¡± she said. Her snakes hissed in agreement. ¡°And I will personally keep an eye on you to make sure you don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Fine by me.¡± Sighing, I rubbed her arm. ¡°Just walking might be beyond me at the moment.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say I might end up owing Phaeus a favor by the time this is over.¡± She gave me a pinched smile. ¡°What with the destruction those hydras caused and now him incubating yet another divine egg in the depths of his forge. But at least he still owes me for that deposit of celestial steel I found near Frischii. Which, speaking of the region.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s where the Stitcher settled?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°He¡¯s in Batavii. The Frischians have cut ties and stuck to south of the Usull River, but I haven¡¯t been able to determine what¡¯s become of the Sivarians and Elthians. The Frischians are scared to resume trade while the undead roam free.¡±


    ¡°I take it you¡¯ve been conscripting from them.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± She sighed, the tempo of her tail flicks increasing. ¡°I¡¯ve also sent what Carthians I can, but Seppo refuses to deploy his trireme. The portals around Batavii work for now, but they¡¯re unstable. As best I can determine, the Stitcher displaced the spirits and whatever loose coalition of deities previously inhabited the region. But the Frischians have been tight-lipped about whom they used to worship.¡±


    I kissed the top of her head as she scowled. ¡°Have you talked to Azoria about assimilating them? Frischii isn¡¯t quite next to our border, but we¡¯ve traded with them enough that it wouldn¡¯t be too hard to incorporate them.¡±


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    She huffed. ¡°I¡¯ve already laid the foundation for our pantheon to welcome them into the fold. It¡¯s the Stitcher who¡¯s being a pain in the ass. He¡¯s gathered a few scattered spirits and started personifying the terrors of the forest.¡± Her snakes hissed as she shook her head. ¡°I think he¡¯s trying to build his own pantheon. At the very least, he¡¯s established himself in the region¡¯s psyche as a force to be feared, if not worshiped. And I can¡¯t displace him.¡±


    ¡°Have you made any forays into Batavii yet?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± She huffed again. ¡°I¡¯ve let Hasda mingle with the Frischians, and he¡¯s been a great help getting more of them to our side, but I haven¡¯t let him cross the border yet. It¡¯s been hard enough just keeping the Stitcher¡¯s soulless on the other side of the river.¡±


    My eyebrows rose. ¡°He¡¯s been pushing out of Batavii?¡±


    ¡°Has been for the past few months, now. I¡¯ve made sure he doesn¡¯t know any gods are around or opposing him, but his most recent incursions have felt¡­frantic. He sent more at once than he had before, almost enough to be called an expeditionary force.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the deal with these undead?¡± I stroked her cheek. ¡°Thane said the spirits he summoned couldn¡¯t harm them. He¡¯s not so incompetent that he couldn¡¯t raise the dead properly, even with how he wanted to switch his Office.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure that the Stitcher has the Ghorins¡¯ rod. These soulless he leads, they really have no spiritual connection.¡± Her eyes looked troubled. ¡°It¡¯s like they¡¯ve been scoured of all life, reduced to the base elements that compose their corpses. Not even mindless things¨Cit¡¯s like they never had minds to begin with.¡±


    ¡°But they can be killed?¡± I paused. ¡°Or, stopped, at least.¡±


    Sighing, she stretched back and kissed my chin. ¡°Physically, at least. The mortals have found success beheading them or cutting off their limbs, but that¡¯s about it. The soulless have no respect for bodily harm, and they¡¯re just intelligent enough to avoid traps. They¡¯re relentless, though, and once they start moving it¡¯s hard to stop them.¡±


    ¡°Fire?¡±


    She hummed thoughtfully. ¡°Haven¡¯t tried that yet. They¡¯ve only attacked during the day thus far. I¡¯ll put Hasda on it when I return.¡±


    I rubbed her shoulder and grunted. Soulless with no spiritual signature were effectively flesh-covered skeletons. I¡¯d want to test their durability, to see if their muscles atrophied or if the Stitcher was magically maintaining them, before planning too heavily. But they would likely still fall to fire, Malia¡¯s gaze, and hopefully the djinn¡¯s unnatural flame. While the djinn itself was supernatural, it was bounded by the mortal plane and had further devoted itself to augmenting Hasda. But things like floods, plagues, and hunger definitely wouldn¡¯t slow them down.


    However, the thought of something unstoppable brought back the memory of what felt like a fever dream. I told Malia about the chamber hidden in the depths of the mines and described the lakrabua to her, both their figure and the feeling of dread they induced. This segued into the return of the Spinster and my unexpected visit with the Stargazer during my healing coma.


    Malia lay and listened, her tail thumping a steady beat. When I finished, she sighed and slapped the bed. ¡°What is with these Primes and their obsession with you?¡±


    ¡°To be fair, I don¡¯t think the Stargazer was on purpose.¡± I hugged her close. ¡°And I¡¯m not sure I could find the chamber again. It felt like the Spinster sealed the passageway behind me, and even if it¡¯s still open, she¡¯s likely moved the lakrabua somewhere else since I tried to destroy them.¡±


    ¡°You know that¡¯s a loose thread I¡¯m not going to leave unchecked.¡±


    I pulled her closer. ¡°Just don¡¯t antagonize Jade if she isn¡¯t helpful. If she¡¯s the one who had to foot the power to break herself out of that prison, it¡¯s highly unlikely she¡¯ll have remembered anything useful after passing through the delirium of that crevice.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll send Thane to check, if I can pull him away from Azoria long enough.¡± She laughed. ¡°The way they¡¯re acting, they¡¯re liable to be the next bonded pair in the pantheon.¡±


    Rubbing her shoulder, I grunted. ¡°And that¡¯s a bad thing?¡±


    ¡°For executing my machinations in a timely fashion, yes.¡± She sighed and cuddled closer. ¡°Although, with you back, I suppose I don¡¯t have to send him on errands anymore. He¡¯s dreadfully slow about things sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Have they moved into each other¡¯s temples yet?¡±


    Malia snorted. ¡°Thane doesn¡¯t technically have a temple yet, he¡¯s been too busy throwing parties with all the minor deities growing his ¡®reputation,¡¯ instead of building a new residence. And while Azoria does her best to be discreet about it, I know for a fact that Thane isn¡¯t at half the feasts he throws and spends those nights with her. She always has this glow on her face the next day, Thane too.¡±


    Ah, right. Because the God of Death¡¯s temple was technically mine now, and the God of Revelry was a new Office without a sanctuary, that left Thane without a house in Nebesa. I hadn¡¯t been back to Nebesa to convert the temple to conform to my new designation, but with how little time I spent in the celestial realm, I didn¡¯t really need it. Thane wasn¡¯t homeless without a temple, since he had his maas and Azoria¡¯s bed, however his former abode was etched with too many gloomy reliefs to be easily transformed into a cheery party parlor.


    But that could wait. For now, we had Hasda¡¯s upcoming Trial to plan for, or rather, Malia needed to bring me up to speed on what she¡¯d already prepared. While Hasda was in the region of the Trial, it sounded like the portals were still cooperative enough to bring him back in time for the announcement. That left me some time to recover a bit more before we actually had to depart, which meant Malia and I would finally get some uninterrupted quality time together.


    I smiled as I hugged her close. Well, maybe just physical contact for now. But that was enough.

 Chapter 102: The Cage

    I didn¡¯t remember falling asleep, but I must have because I opened my eyes and found Malia gone. The side of the bed where she¡¯d been was cold, the sheets a rumpled mess. Darkness had settled over my maas, along with a cool breeze that jostled the warmth of the day. I felt rested, but nowhere near getting up and running laps around the fountain.


    Stars flickered through the canopy above the bed. There was something I was supposed to remember¡­ The constellations danced, swimming into new configurations. A dragon here, a rune there, mythical beasts and baser animals. Slowly they slid into a grid, hard lines like the bars of a prison. That didn¡¯t feel right¡­ But it was related to something important.


    My mind danced on the threshold of consciousness, and I couldn¡¯t drag my thoughts straight. The stars snapped back to their appropriate positions as I struggled awake. Stars. What was with the stars? Darkness was significant, too. I had told myself to remember this.


    The black star.


    In the jumble of waking up for the first time since fighting Tamiyat, I had forgotten to mention it to Malia. No legends in our pantheon spoke of such a thing, not even the annals of the reign of Seppo¡¯s mother. And I couldn¡¯t recall any of our traders picking up any stories of such a strange celestial object. The only foreign tale involving stars the Carthians had encountered thus far was of a child who plucked one for her wolf to fetch. But the star itself was insignificant and amounted to nothing more than evidence of her divinity to her people.


    Pale yellow flashed on my right as Seppo entered. Metal clanged and hissed, far more than normal for his exoskeleton. I rolled on my side and saw a bundle of rods in his arms. A moment later, Phaeus¡¯ ashy red portal flared to life behind our pantheon head, depositing the snarky dwarf on the flagstones. Face smeared with the remains of embers, he scowled through his beard as he dumped his toolbelt and a bundle of leather strips on the ground.


    ¡°First thing that happens when you wake up is they set me to work.¡± Arranging his tools on the stones, Phaeus jabbed a stubby finger at Seppo. ¡°No thanks for everything I¡¯ve been doing to keep the army supplied, ho no, I have to build a new frame for the cripple.¡±


    Seppo and I shared a look.


    The dwarf stopped his rummaging and glanced up. ¡°The invalid, you cranky old bastard. I built that exoskeleton of yours to outlive you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a cripple,¡± I said, pushing myself up on my elbows. Thankfully, my head didn¡¯t start swimming, but I could feel the remnants of a swirl at the base of my skull.


    ¡°You¡¯re not.¡± Seppo grunted as he offloaded the rods one by one to Phaeus. ¡°But you¡¯ll need some assistance getting around while your legs finish healing. I know there¡¯s no keeping either of you bedridden when you¡¯re injured, especially with Hasda¡¯s third Trial beginning soon.¡±


    He sounded upset, but I could see the smile tugging at his lips. I shook my head. ¡°Who¡¯s the other one?¡±


    He handed the last rod to Phaeus. ¡°Malia didn¡¯t tell you? She had another run-in with that Paeden plague god. While she didn¡¯t suffer the same degradation as last time, I suspect he exacerbated her previous injuries.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t stop her from kicking his ass.¡± Phaeus chuckled as he connected the first tube to a gasket I hadn¡¯t seen him produce. ¡°And the Paeden coastline looks like she flung my slag at it. Probably why they¡¯ve been so keen to claim ours.¡±


    Seppo nodded. ¡°Even with Synnefo¡¯s help, Resef has been hard pressed to contest their naval deity. While we haven¡¯t seen any of the Sea Mother¡¯s derketo, there¡¯ve been Paeden ones aplenty. I might have to set sail to protect our maritime supremacy, but that¡¯s a massive risk so long as the elder goddess is free.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Speaking of Tamiyat, we need to talk about how we¡¯re going to confine her.¡± I took a deep breath and laid back down. My head was relatively clear, but speaking even half-seated winded me. The night breeze ruffled the silk of the canopy. ¡°I found her old prison, and the door is wrecked. Not only that, it¡¯s surrounded by lakrabua, so I don¡¯t think we could repair it, even if I could find it again.¡±


    ¡°Malia couldn¡¯t find it, either.¡± Seppo set to clunking back and forth in his habitual pacing as we talked. ¡°She razed a few lesser Paeden seaports over it.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± I sighed. ¡°Defeating Tamiyat won¡¯t be anywhere near as easy as your mother. Since the Paedens set the precedent for how their ancestors are handled, I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll be able to kill her. That means we¡¯ll have to imprison her, which also raises the problem of where we¡¯ll contain her.¡±


    ¡°If her old cell won¡¯t work, what would you suggest?¡± Seppo said. His metal ankle braces clanked against the flagstones, ringing clashing with the bubbling fountain.


    I rolled my head back and forth on the pillow. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. The biggest problem is how we¡¯ll seal her. Even if we had a cage, the only lock we know of failed. Besides, I¡¯d rather use a method that doesn¡¯t involve isolating another deity from reality for the rest of eternity.¡±


    ¡°What was the crevice place like?¡± Phaeus asked. He gave Seppo a side-eyed look as he passed. ¡°I¡¯ve heard bits and pieces, down in my forge, but everybody seems content to let me work and leave me in the dark.¡±


    ¡°It was¡­strange.¡± I recounted the tunnel in the gap and the hive of the antechamber, leaving out the meeting with the Prime on the way out.


    Phaeus set the rods and leather down to stroke his beard. ¡°So it was a place apart, distinctly disconnected from the depths of the mines?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure the connecting tunnel was within the mines, either. The fabric of the space felt different.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm.¡± The dwarf picked the rods back up and lashed them together. ¡°That sounds awfully similar to how the maas work. Perhaps a different spatial foundation, since it¡¯s either Paeden or something they commandeered to contain the Sea Mother, but I think I could construct a new maas to hold the titan. The walls would be able to withstand her, at least. But even my best-fitting vault will have gaps an eldritch god could exploit.¡±


    ¡°The bindings will be a problem,¡± Seppo agreed. ¡°Did the door give you any insights into how they managed to detain a titan with the power of a god? A minor deity, no less.¡±


    I gave another head roll. ¡°The only thing I could think of was that they made Jade the weak point of the seal, then placed her inside the cell so no one outside could break in. I don¡¯t think they expected her to force her way out.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s just a matter of divinity, perhaps we could substitute a divine beast.¡± Phaeus set his contraption down, a brace with two long strips of leather on the upper and lower sections. Grabbing more rods, he set about making a second one. ¡°Or maybe we could dope up demigods with ambrosia, then stasis lock the cell to keep them from leaking the excess energy.¡±


    Seppo shook his head. ¡°Divine beasts are too rare to spare, and they¡¯re unpredictable.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d prefer not to lock anyone in with Tamiyat,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ve seen the effect it had on Jade. Even the strongest among us would buckle under Tamiyat¡¯s influence, given enough time. But binding her will be a difficult enough problem to tackle.¡±


    ¡°And for that, we¡¯ll need you back on your feet.¡± Phaeus finished assembling the second brace and hoisted the pair up to Seppo as he passed. ¡°Time for the fitting.¡±


    ¡°Can you sit up?¡± Seppo set the braces on the bed.


    I grunted and pushed myself upright. Getting my legs over the side of the bed took effort, but I managed it without seeing too many dancing stars. The braces were well made and only took a few adjustments to fit properly. However, I wobbled far more than I would¡¯ve liked when I tried to stand up. I downed the cup of ambrosia Seppo offered me. While the elixir took the edge off, I still couldn¡¯t stand without shaking.


    ¡°Try this.¡± Phaeus offered me a serpent-headed cane.


    I waved it off and summoned my Spear. From a great distance I felt the answering tug, and the weapon was sluggish in materializing in my hand. But it seemed mostly unharmed from its time in the astral plane. That sparked a memory from my battle with the Sea Mother and, concerned, I summoned my Sword. The tip clattered to the flagstones, the haft and remaining blade resting in my palm. Some scattered chunks and flakes sprinkled down after the severed end.


    Giving Phaeus a sheepish grin, I flipped the hilt towards him. ¡°I think I might have some more work for you as well.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re all the same.¡± Grumbling, he snatched the broken blade from me and gathered up its disjointed remains. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do. But, at this rate, I¡¯m going to exhaust my supply of celestial steel.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to Malia.¡±


    Phaeus grunted. ¡°You¡¯ll need to talk to her quick, if you want your Sword back before the feast.¡±


    Sighing, I settled back onto the bed. At least I could sit up without going dizzy. ¡°The feast?¡±


    Seppo nodded. ¡°Hasda¡¯s Third Trial. We¡¯ll hold it once you¡¯re feeling up to attending.¡±


    I groaned and lay back. The pending Trial, the construction of the prison, the burgeoning conflict with the Paedens¡ªso much needed doing. At least I could hit the ground running, metaphorically speaking.

 Chapter 103: The Haunt

    A few weeks of drinking ambrosia and toddering about my maas, and I finally felt up to attending a function. While the braces, Spear, and divine nectar helped me walk, I couldn¡¯t shake a spot of coldness that had settled at the base of my spine. Malia said she wasn¡¯t worried about it as her eyes said the opposite, and Phemonoe hadn¡¯t determined its cause despite her best efforts. It didn¡¯t seem to limit my range of motion or inhibit movement. After a few hours, it was little more than a numb void that I was coming to ignore.


    As I plunked my way up the streets of Nebesa, I had a stab of empathy for Seppo. It¡¯d been¡­a long time since his mother crippled him. He¡¯d mostly recovered, as gods tend to do, but sometimes his limp came back. I wasn¡¯t hobbling much. In fact, I had nearly reached the point where my Spear was for show as much as it was supporting me. Considering the damage the eldritch goddess had done, it would be a miracle if all I came away with was the ghost of the wound in my back.


    The minor gods roaming the thoroughfare straightened at my passing. It was embarrassing how few of them I recognized. Before my retirement, I could¡¯ve named at least half of them, but I¡¯d yet to learn even a tenth since my return. Malia would know, but she¡¯d disappeared over a week ago, so I made the trek alone. I might¡¯ve asked Phe to keep me company, but it was her turn to watch the hydralings, and those crittons were the last things we needed at Hasda¡¯s feast.


    Mar might¡¯ve had the poise to control herself, but she was still young. And her brother, Kas, well, he was an untameable devil. I¡¯d already lost two robes and a bedsheet to his teething. And his incorrigibility was infectious. It was hard to tell whether it was exasperation on Mar¡¯s part, or just trying to keep her brood mate out of trouble, but she ended up involved in most of Kas¡¯ destructive escapades. Getting at least one useful hydra out of this whole affair would make all the lost sleep and cloth worth it, though.


    When I entered the feasting hall, I found dryads hanging garlands of braided leaves, the foliage dripping with fall colors. The feasting table was bare, save a few sprigs of autumn wheat the dryads, or perhaps the satyrs, had sprinkled down its length. I settled into my seat, staying out of the way while I waited for the evening festivities to begin. While everyone likely already knew about the braces, it was still a good idea to project strength. With my legs still healing and rumors of Malia¡¯s reinjury flitting along the celestial grapevine, the last thing I wanted was an immediate visual reminder of the aftermath of my fight presenting itself during my entrance. So, I arrived early to sit, rest, and settle my legs out of sight beneath the banquet table.


    Satyrs joined the preparations, carrying trays laden with vegetables and meats of all varieties. Roasted gazelle, taken from the plains near Aenea, sat centerpiece and made a statement about our position in the land. Loutro had shifted from the God of Feasts to something we hadn¡¯t quite defined yet when Thane assumed the role of Revelry. As Thane dealt more with the drinks and socializing, Loutro had taken to preparing the food and providing the foundation for the party. What he¡¯d given Thane had been more an excess of his Office, duties he¡¯d delegated almost to the point of negligence on his own part. Although the satyrs and the dryads weren¡¯t technically his, with how often they served him they¡¯d almost become the symbols of his Office.


    As the first rays of orange streaked the sky, Thane slipped through a side door of the hall. He pulled up short when he saw me.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re here early.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°I could say the same to you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve new duties to perform, or haven¡¯t you heard?¡± With a flourish, he manifested a silver platter filled with crystal goblets. ¡°Ambrosia?¡±


    ¡°Once everyone¡¯s arrived, perhaps.¡± I glanced at his flashy, pomegranate-colored robes. ¡°New color?¡±


    ¡°For me, yes.¡± He vanished the tray with a flick of his wrist, replacing it with a golden drachma which he danced across his fingers. ¡°Not exactly the best idea to show up to a party dressed in all black, eh?¡±


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°And flashing that is?¡± I gave him a look. ¡°That¡¯s the one you won off Malia, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    He caught the coin and smiled at it. ¡°Well, considering it¡¯s the last bet she lost, I¡¯d say so. She went on a rampage after you returned, and no one¡¯s willing to put odds against her now. We¡¯d have none left to circulate if we did.¡±


    I nodded as he went back to spinning the drachma. ¡°So you¡¯ve adjusted well to your new position.¡±


    ¡°I have, but¡­¡± His eyes checked the entrances, his fingers spinning at a slower tempo. He stepped closer, his voice soft. ¡°Charax, I¡­it¡¯s not that I¡¯m ungrateful.¡±


    ¡°Just spit it out.¡±


    He caught the coin and stared at its face for a long moment. Finally, he said, ¡°It feels haunted.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°The coin?¡±


    Shaking his head, he laughed. ¡°No, not that.¡± His eyes met mine. ¡°It¡¯s like¡­like I never stopped being the God of Death. The weight still follows, and taints everything. This feast?¡± He waved his hand towards the table. ¡°As life gathers, it gives birth to a festival spirit. The spirit grows as the revelry progresses, blossoming into a chorus that celebrates the celebration that bore it. And then, it ages, slowing as the revelers ebb away, until it perishes.¡± Shrugging, he went back to spinning the coin. ¡°I know I¡¯m not much of a poet¡ªAzoria¡¯s always been better with literature¡ªand maybe I¡¯m just being overdramatic, but it feels like I¡¯m witnessing another death at every event. A metaphysical one. And I can¡¯t seem to change my perspective.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not being overdramatic.¡± I sighed, shifting in my seat. ¡°Death is a part of your history, so it¡¯s only natural that an aspect of it follows you now. By your own admission, you¡¯ve gained a reflection of birth and life as well. The challenge becomes how to incorporate those symbols into your iconography to build yourself up, instead of weighing yourself down. And an afterlife always follows death. What, then, is your underworld?¡±


    ¡°What indeed?¡± Frowning, he rubbed the coin with his thumb. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I¡¯ll have to think about it.¡±


    ¡°In the meantime, you can gather the spirits to yourself until you¡¯ve found their resting place.¡± I gave him a reassuring smile. ¡°You can start with this Trial.¡±


    ¡°I think I will.¡± He jerked a shallow bow. ¡°Thank you, Charax, for your continued guidance.¡±


    ¡°Bah.¡± I waved at his formality. ¡°You¡¯re not my apprentice anymore. You came into your own ages ago, and you¡¯ve no need to grovel.¡±


    ¡°Still, I appreciate your mentorship, official or otherwise.¡± Swapping the coin for a chalice, he sipped at a dark liquid.


    ¡°Well, while you¡¯re in a receptive mood.¡± I gave him a wide grin. ¡°Have you given any thought to a new temple yet?¡±


    He spluttered and had to turn away to keep from spraying his drink all over me. ¡°You could do with some subtlety sometimes, you know that? There are less sudden ways to ask about my love life.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°You as well. All of Nebesa knows you¡¯ve had no problems sheltering yourself, despite the fact you¡¯ve yet to establish your new sanctuary.¡±


    ¡°I move at a pace Azoria is comfortable with.¡± Leaning against the table, he eyed me over the lip of his wine glass.


    ¡°And Malia and I, bonded and with Offices so tangled I fear for our successors, have distinct abodes.¡± I sat back. ¡°Your own place might give you insight into your underworld problem as well. How can you hope to home those spirits when you yourself have no home? Or would you rather bring those with you into Azoria¡¯s sacred place?¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡± Swirling his drink, he stared at the cyclone that formed. ¡°A bit of my reticence was that shade of death plaguing me so, perhaps, now that it¡¯s defined I can move forward with my new temple.¡±


    ¡°Will you bond with her?¡±


    Dark spots stained the front of his robes as he sloshed his drink a little too quickly. ¡°She¡¯s mentally preparing herself for us to be a public pair. I haven¡¯t broached the subject with her.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Being bonded is a weight unto itself. It¡¯s not a fit for everyone. Don¡¯t feel the need to force yourselves that far if either of you don¡¯t think you can handle it.¡±


    ¡°Why did you two decide to bond?¡± He tilted the chalice, almost spilling more liquid.


    ¡°It felt right.¡± I shrugged at his questioning look. ¡°That¡¯s the long and short of it. Yes, our bond allowed us to synchronize our fighting at an unparalleled level. No, it wasn¡¯t a level road from the first. It took time to adjust, and we had plenty of conflict as we adjusted to the tether. There¡¯s a logic in favor and against the decision, no matter who¡¯s involved. Your heart can talk you into anything, if you give it long enough. But sometimes you have to trust your gut. Mine told me that, with all her problems, bonding with Malia was the right choice.¡±


    ¡°And you didn¡¯t regret it?¡±


    ¡°Never.¡± I paused. ¡°Well, there was a brief moment when our minds first touched and our hearts connected, when unfiltered ¡®us¡¯ had its maiden mixing, that I felt like, ¡®what have I just done?¡¯ But, no, the ups and downs are a part of the experience. And if she¡¯s worth bonding, she¡¯s worth weathering that storm for.¡±


    He downed the rest of the glass and set it on the table. After wiping his mouth, he said. ¡°You¡¯ve given me much to think on. It¡¯s almost time for the feast, and I should prepare to greet the guests.¡± He pushed off the table and headed for the door. When he reached the pillars, he stopped and turned back. ¡°Thank you. And, take care of yourself.¡±


    I raised an imaginary glass to him. Azoria could hardly do better with him. And he would do right by her. They¡¯d make a strong pair, but¡­ I shook my head as I watched him go. No new pair needed to be tested by war. I would do my best to see that its reach didn¡¯t touch them.

 Chapter 104: The Other

    The first of the guests arrived as noon crept past its zenith. Of the major deities, it seemed only Resef was absent, dealing with the Paedens on the Great Sea. That was probably for the best as Vrixia looked cold and absent, her distance growing as harvest time approached. The pair would dissolve and abandon each other over the winter, then recouple with the advent of spring, Resef showering Vrixia with affection and rain as they had for centuries now.


    Thane greeted the deities at the door, his bespotted robes exchanged for clean ones in the same carmine shade as before. Clad in storm gray robes, Synnefo nodded a curt greeting and settled near the end of the table, muttering to himself. Kydon followed after, wearing loose white shorts and a thin garment that barely passed for a shirt. The arbiter gave everyone a toothy grin as he passed, slipping into his seat at the middle of the table.


    Surprisingly, Seppo arrived early. His bronze exoskeleton hissed and clanked, but it seemed cleaner than normal, only a few stray lines streaking the alloy. When Tarrha entered, dressed in a partially-shredded drape, she turned all the minor deities¡¯ heads. A few of the side tables had already filled, but with the rumor of this being the final commencement feast, all of the wings would likely end up packed as well. As it was, Tarrha would likely empty a table or two before the celebration was over.


    Azoria, clad in white and blue, hung by the entrance until the rest of the pantheon arrived. At first I thought it was to stay near Thane as long as possible, but then I spotted the jeweled brooch pinning her upper garment, a ruby fashioned like a pomegranate, wreathed with emerald leaves. Suddenly Thane¡¯s wardrobe choice made sense, as did the blush on Azoria¡¯s cheeks. Phaeus, who¡¯d deigned to dust his smithing apron as his approximation of finery, must have whispered something to her as he passed, because her face went several shades of red deeper in his wake.


    Almost last was Ulti, who danced a sweeping bow to Thane as they entered. Their golden himation hid as much as it exposed, the glittering cloth wrapping down their left shoulder to encircle their right arm while leaving the counterparts bare. Their legs were likewise clothed in tension, their left side all hip, thigh, and calf, their right sequestered deep within the mantle¡¯s folds. Yet the flowing piece did nothing to impede their dance, which was graceful and fluid all the way to their seat.


    Murmurs fluttered under the roof of the feasting hall, eyes casting furtive, barely-disguised glances at the two empty seats next to me. Malia had yet to return from fetching Hasda from Frischii. And this was the final feast. Under no circumstances would Malia waste the opportunity to make the most spectacular entrance possible, so it was just a matter of waiting until she thought the proper amount of suspense had built.


    There were no doors to slam, but silence descended as if the air had been sucked out by such a disruption anyways. Wings spread, War Bow peaking over her shoulder, Malia swaggered in with not one, but two mortals flanking her. I saw Phemonoe outside, standing in the shadow of the pillar and frowning at Malia¡¯s back, before she turned and disappeared into Nebesa.


    Malia paid her, and the slowly bubbling hubbub, no mind as she made her way into the hall. Jerking into action, Thane dashed to the table and made room for a third seat near me. The wildness in his eyes matched the shock on Azoria¡¯s face, confusion and consternation manifesting on the gods¡¯ faces. Seppo hid his mouth behind his hands and gave me a measuring look.


    It was hard to know what to think. Hasda I recognized easily, but the comradery from the bulky lad next to him was just as unexpected as the man next to him. Roughly Hasda¡¯s age, or perhaps a few years his elder, he wore a tunic that flaunted the mass of muscles he¡¯d been blessed with. A fist-thick beard of curly black hair adorned his chin, the apparent inspiration for the shadow that peppered Hasda¡¯s face. But what caught my attention was the authentic warmth of his smile, which reached and filled his eyes. Whoever he was, he bore no mask of falsehood. His attention was on Hasda and the winged gorgon before him, and his disregard for the splendor of Nebesa was not arrogance, but a simple contentment at his current circumstances.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Well, she¡¯d certainly chosen an appropriate amount of drama. Bringing the War Bow into the feasting hall, especially during a celebratory event, was about the loudest declaration that we were at war she could¡¯ve made. Even during times of conflict, it was uncommon to bring weapons within the pillars. And then to come accompanied by a mortal who wasn¡¯t the subject of the Trials¡­that shattered all precedent. Not even the partners of previous champions had been allowed within Nebesa, let alone a commencement feast.


    Malia paused at the foot of the table, eyeing each god in turn. When she saw the hungry look on Tarrha¡¯s face, she scowled. ¡°Now is not the time for that. We have more pressing issues.¡± Snakes hissing, she leaned against the table and spread her wings. ¡°I come bearing news of this Trial¡¯s development. While it has not yet begun, its significance continues to grow. Ghorin coilna have infiltrated the region, bringing confusion about the true origins of the Staff that Hasda is to collect. Rumors of the Serynis Sisters, bound twins that Charax has fought once before, and the Weeping Queen, a former deity of the land, increase in frequency as the days go by. And the shadow of the Sea Mother thickens the air with its stench. I can¡¯t find the source, but she¡¯s close.¡±


    The shards of decorum tinkled in the silence that followed.


    Seppo was the first to find his voice. ¡°That is¡­unfortunate news. But it seems as if this will be a fitting Trial, proving Hasda¡¯s worth beyond all shadow of doubt.¡±


    Kydon nodded. ¡°Have you determined whether the Stitcher has achieved godhood himself?¡±


    Shooing the two men in my direction, she scowled at the arbiter. ¡°My task was simply to retrieve Hasda from his training grounds for this special occasion. It¡¯s a wonder I was able to determine as much as I did before returning.¡±


    Which was coded for she¡¯d tried her best and failed. Granted, we¡¯d still been cloaking our presence, so she likely couldn¡¯t have probed the Stitcher¡¯s divinity without alerting him to our proximity to Frischii, but Malia had her ways, and they usually worked. The Sea Mother¡¯s presence might have interfered somewhat, or the Serynis were doing more than just being rumors. Whatever the case, she¡¯d probably need a good fountainside massage to destress before we left.


    Hasda and his companion sat down next to Malia¡¯s empty seat. After going back and forth with Kydon for a bit longer, Malia slid into her place as well. She pointedly avoided looking at me or the humans while she carried on her report. No, the Stitcher hadn¡¯t left Batavii. Yes, the Frischians still feared trading beyond their normal grounds because of the undead. Yes, the fire had worked, but it was more effective at night, when the sun wasn¡¯t drowning out its light. No, they still hadn¡¯t found an effective way to deal with the zombies beyond decapitation.


    Tarrha kept trying to start a conversation with the new mortal, and Malia kept flicking her wing in front of his face. Eventually Tarrha gave up and switched to Vrixia, who sat next to her, although the way the beauty goddess kept glancing his way said she hadn¡¯t abandoned the hunt. But when Phaeus poked his arm and launched into a sales pitch for a war hammer, Malia let them be.


    Everyone not engaged in conversation with Malia kept glancing between me and the man. There was something I¡¯d clearly missed. Maybe he had a storied history, or had established himself with our pantheon during my absence. Eventually, I had enough of the looks and tugged at Malia¡¯s elbow.


    ¡°Yes?¡± she hissed, not even facing me.


    I sat back and folded my arms. ¡°We can do this with an audience, or you can calm down. You¡¯ve already made your scene with your arrival. And put that Bow away.¡±


    Baring her teeth, she folded her wings to block Hasda and the man while vanishing her Bow and Quiver in one smooth motion. Her smile was carved, her eyes devoid of gleam. ¡°It would be best to wait until after the feast.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have said anything, if you weren¡¯t acting like someone stuck a live coal in your cloaca.¡±


    That got an eye twitch out of her. Her smile broadened. ¡°This is Thrax, Hasda¡¯s chief general and foremost bodyguard. Their meeting was my gift to Hasda.¡±


    I frowned. That was far from everything. What wasn¡¯t she saying?


    Giving an exasperated sigh, Malia rolled her eyes and leaned in. ¡°This is a champion¡¯s feast.¡± Straightening, she flashed Seppo a fang-filled smile. ¡°Perhaps we should begin, before the hour grows too late.¡±


    As Seppo rose, it hit me.


    Oh. Pek below, no wonder everyone was staring. Malia had brought her champion to Hasda¡¯s feast.

 Chapter 105: The Thread

    The gods watched me as Seppo waxed eloquent with the opening ceremony, far more interested in my reaction to this revelation than our head¡¯s exuberant gushing over Hasda. Malia had brought a champion¡ªor former, or hopeful, I wasn¡¯t sure which¡ªwhich she¡¯d selected and trained during my absence. That was all fine, while I was gone, but with my return and our Offices linked, it presented a host of potential problems. Granted, our intermingling created a country¡¯s worth of unexplored territory, but that did nothing to erase precedent.


    While the Carthians could have many champions, gods, even pairs, only ever supported one. This, in theory, allowed the budding hero¡¯s patron deities to give their undivided attention to their development, but it also had a practical aspect. Multiple champions divided the adoration of the masses, which made it harder to elevate a storied warrior beyond their mortality. A single hero could rise to minor godhood, but even a second could prevent both from receiving enough devotion to reach demigod status. Not every champion would ascend, of course, but having the possibility was always nice.


    During the reign of Seppo¡¯s mother and the titans that came before her, petitioners competed with the champion apparent for titanic blessings. It wasn¡¯t that the titans had limited power to spare, but rather that they enjoyed the intrigues and alliances such contests fostered. But it also bred a certain brutality in them. Tuvidhes, one of the last ¡®heroes,¡¯ was notorious for consuming the body parts of hopefuls he slew in combat or quite literally stabbed in the back. I made sure to secure him deep within Peklo after we overthrew Seppo¡¯s mother.


    We put our candidates through Trials, true, but we did so more to elevate them and prepare them for their divinely ordained tasks, if not godhood itself. Hasda we intended (or at least Malia did) to lead our armies against the Paedens, and so training him against divine beasts would give him the experience he needed to stand against the enemy pantheon. Having both Gods of War as his patrons set him well down that path. So where, then, did that place this newcomer? And how did he factor into Hasda joining the pantheon?


    Malia sat with both arms on the side of her chair closest to me, speaking out of the side of her mouth. ¡°I would¡¯ve told you sooner if I¡¯d planned to bring him.¡±


    ¡°Malia, you¡¯ve known me long enough to know I¡¯m not going to be upset you had champions in my absence.¡± I filled my plate and toasted with Seppo. ¡°If anything, I¡¯d have been shocked if you didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that.¡± The muscles on her jaw worked as she kept her smile firmly in place. ¡°You called me callous. Well, here is a loose thread with his life intact.¡±


    I blinked. Oh. OH.


    ¡°You were going to kill¡ª¡±


    She cut me off with a glare. ¡°Not in front of the children. But yes, I was. And for your sake, and now Hasda¡¯s, I refrained.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°That¡¯s a good thing, though. So why are you so worked up?¡±


    Snakes squirming, she raised an eyebrow at me. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t it be?¡± I shrugged. ¡°Of course I have plenty of questions, like what you were thinking, unveiling him here, and what schemes you still have in store, but why would I be mad that you didn¡¯t, er, retire him?¡±


    Arms folded, she sat back and let her wings shroud her face. ¡°Because his presence detracts from the potential to ascend your chosen?¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    I coughed to hide my splutter. ¡°How did you know? I haven¡¯t even tried to find a path for him yet.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a terrible liar.¡± She peaked out from under her wings. ¡°It was written all over your face the moment you thought of it. ¡®She will discard him the moment he¡¯s no longer serviceable, so I must find a way to protect him.¡¯ Am I far off?¡±


    ¡°I really haven¡¯t done anything,¡± I said, ignoring my burning cheeks.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been bonded how long?¡± She laughed. ¡°Even without the paternal defensiveness you¡¯ve been radiating like a too-full hearth, it wasn¡¯t hard to guess, given our history and your not-so-subtle remarks over the centuries.¡± Sighing, she tucked her wings against her but left her arms folded. ¡°And you¡¯ve done nothing to discourage him from associating with that lamia. You had to have known how that would affect him, ambrosia or not.¡±


    I took a swig from my drink as I considered my response. ¡°So you were worried I would perceive this as you undermining my efforts and knee-capping his progress.¡±


    ¡°I was worried you would be upset, yes.¡± She huffed and smacked the table. ¡°And this complicates everything! I knew how to deal with spares. But now there¡¯s an extra strand tangling up the tapestry, and I can¡¯t pluck it without a certain someone pitching a fit.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°And here I thought you¡¯d had a change of heart and done it out of love.¡±


    She stuck her tongue out. ¡°You¡¯re an ass sometimes, you know that? Even a little contrition for all the problems you¡¯ve caused would be appreciated.¡±


    Seppo loudly cleared his throat. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad we¡¯re not going to see a brawl at the feasting table.¡±


    ¡°No, but there might be one in a maas later,¡± Malia muttered under her breath.


    ¡°With that out of the way, are the terms of the Trial agreeable?¡± he continued, giving Malia a side-eyed look.


    She flashed her fangs. ¡°Kydon, be a dear and repeat them exactly. This is the final Trial, after all, and I want to be absolutely certain of what you forgot to exclude.¡±


    The ogre stood up and grunted. ¡°Hasda is to retrieve the Staff in the Stitcher¡¯s possession and lay the undead to rest. Regardless of whether the Staff is responsible for their resurrection, the necromantic abominations must be dispatched as well for the Trial to be considered concluded successfully. His patrons may not interfere with any deities relating to the Staff or the zombies. Given the instability of the region¡¯s current mythology during this transitionary period, gods may ally themselves with the Stitcher while opposing you. Were that to occur, you would be required to withdraw and leave Hasda to handle them.¡±


    Feathers rustled as Malia flicked her wings. ¡°And the Sea Mother?¡±


    ¡°She has no bearing on Hasda¡¯s Trial. Yes, I am aware of her potential proximity to the region.¡± Kydon folded his hands in front of him and dipped his head to Seppo. ¡°After careful consideration, our head has advised that the Sea Mother takes precedence over the Stitcher. Should she breach the celestial or mortal realm during Hasda¡¯s Trial, you are free to use whatever tools at your disposal to resist her, and you may withdraw Hasda from his testing without repercussions.¡±


    ¡°And her deities?¡± Malia rested her chin on her interlaced fingers.


    Kydon blinked. ¡°I was not aware that she had added divine beings to her train.¡±


    ¡°She hasn¡¯t, yet.¡± Eyes sparkling, Malia watched the arbiter squirm. ¡°But she¡¯s been dragging her net wherever her words will carry. It¡¯s no secret that she¡¯s attempted to recruit from our numbers and the Paedens. We know that none have defected from our pantheon, but who¡¯s to say that all the Paedens revile her? And the scattered spirits and divinities in Frischii, bereft of their followers and homeland, might see the allure of sheltering beneath a titan¡¯s wings.¡±


    Seppo hummed into his mug. ¡°Destroy any deity who swears fealty to the elder goddess. She can¡¯t be allowed a foothold beyond the astral plane.¡±


    ¡°Even the Stitcher?¡± Malia settled atop her own drink, fingers dancing against its side.


    ¡°I¡­¡± Lost, Seppo looked to Kydon.


    The ogre shook his head. ¡°The terms of the Trial are that Hasda retrieve the Staff from the Stitcher and send sleep to the unslumbering. If Hasda is to lead our troops, whether that be against the Paedens or the absconded armies of the Sea Mother, then he must be prepared to face even a god with a titan¡¯s blessing. Even if we keep the Sea Mother at bay, there is a very real possibility that Marudak will field deities empowered by his excess. Better to see how Hasda handles such an encounter now than later, when he could be the crux of battle.¡± Giving Malia a stern look, he held up his hand preemptively. ¡°But, I will give you this. The qualification is the retrieval of the Staff. Once Hasda has secured that, the Stitcher loses his protection. But Hasda must be the one to secure it in his possession, completely, before you may move against the Stitcher.¡±


    Malia slitted her eyes and stared him down for a bit. Finally, she huffed and sat back. ¡°If you insist. No complai¡ªconcerns, Charax?¡±


    ¡°None.¡± I shook my head, then leaned over and whispered, ¡°You have loopholes already?¡±


    She pursed her lips in an unhappy smile. ¡°Perhaps.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Why did you bring that up about the Stitcher? You think Tamiyat will get to him?¡±


    ¡°About that.¡± Her eyes flashed as she unfolded her arms. ¡°I¡­may have lost Lazuli at the border of Batavii.¡±

 Chapter 106: The Unblessed

    Malia had really outdone herself this time. Lazuli going missing meant that Malia had unfrozen her, cut her leash, and then left her unsupervised long enough to lose her. But what had possessed her to risk losing her favorite toy? I said as much, and she snorted.


    ¡°We had no sign of the Sea Mother for months. I needed a sniffer.¡± She shrugged. ¡°She worked, until the earth swallowed her.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°And how did that happen?¡±


    ¡°How should I know?¡± She speared a piece of lamb and chewed it aggressively. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t be lost if I did, now, would she?¡±


    ¡°I can help you lose something else,¡± Tarrha said, playful eyes on Thrax.


    Malia snapped her fingers at the love goddess. ¡°You keep your wretched hands to yourself.¡±


    Tarrha gave her a pained look. ¡°You like my wretched hands.¡±


    ¡°I like them where they are: off my mortals.¡± She bared her fangs.


    A coy smile crept across Tarrha¡¯s face. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll have to assume a mortal veil, then. Dearest Thrax, do you prefer dark hair, or fair?¡±


    His loud laugh blasted through whatever retort Malia had prepared. ¡°My greatest respects to you, most divine goddess.¡± Genuine mirth bubbled in his eyes and rounded his cheeks. ¡°What I say, I say in praise of your elegance and reputation. But you must forgive me, a simple mortal. I have my brother¡±¡ªhe thumped Hasda¡¯s shoulder¡ª¡°and I have spent enough time amongst snakes to know when I see a forked tongue. All due glory and honor to you, heavenly vixen. But I will not be snared within your den.¡±


    He deftly ignored how he made her jaw drop by tucking an arm and giving me a seated bow. ¡°Mighty warrior, much have I heard of you, and glad I am to be within your presence. Goddess Malia has oft spoken of your many accomplishments.¡±


    I paused, my drink halfway to my lips. ¡°Is that so?¡±


    Malia diverted her eyes by glaring at Tarrha again


    ¡°So, how long have you been, er, under her wing?¡± I set my glass down. I¡¯d prefer not to spray liquid everywhere being caught off guard by a stray phrase. Someone with the wit to immediately disarm Tarrha with backhanded compliments was bound to lay snares for unexpected laughter.


    He gave me a smile as broad as his shoulders. ¡°It has been many years since I was first greeted by a vision of her. She has blessed and prepared me for many perils, so that I may protect my people as we travel to new and wonderful lands.¡±


    ¡°And do you know why you''re here now?¡±


    ¡°As the goddess wills, so I am here. I do not understand the whole of what has happened today¡±¡ªhe gestured at the gathered gods¡ª¡°but I know my place, and it is to serve as Hasda''s right hand as he seeks to save his own people, as he has already saved mine. For that, he is my brother.¡±


    My face scrunched, and I had to purse my lips to keep from frowning. That wasn¡¯t the talk of a champion, hopeful or former or otherwise. How, then, had Malia framed his role to him? And that final comment. Yet more history to catch up on.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°Oh? Hasda saved your people?¡± I wiped my mouth to cover my annoyance at missing Hasda¡¯s heroic deed.


    Thrax beamed. ¡°It is as you say. He appeared in the midst of the Sleepless as a legend walking, wreathed in fire and sword aflame. At the sight of him the soulless fled, and he has driven them back every time since. They fear him.¡±


    ¡°You told me to try fire.¡± Malia gave me a sour look. ¡°The undead gained a foothold in Frischii. Since I couldn''t drive them out myself, I set Hasda on them. He handled them well.¡±


    ¡°Ah, so that¡¯s what you meant by ¡®training.¡¯¡± I nodded to Thrax. ¡°And you¡¯ve been assisting Hasda in repelling the undead?¡±


    ¡°It is a simple thing, my aid to Hasda.¡± The man smiled broadly and thumped Hasda again. ¡°While his fire keeps the Sleepless at bay, it does not consume them completely. He slays them, and I throw the bodies away so that they don¡¯t hem him and overwhelm him. Even a god may be overcome with sufficient numbers.¡±


    ¡°He guards my flank as well,¡± Hasda said, grimacing a smile through Thrax¡¯s heavy-handed appreciation. ¡°And he¡¯s been fantastic with the troops.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I am nowhere near the leader that you are.¡± Thrax took a deep drink before continuing. ¡°Helming the host has never been a great strength of mine. Even before Hasda¡¯s arrival, I served more as guide and vanguard for the caravans of Curnerein. It has been three years since I first entered Frischii, and the trade goes well.¡±


    That didn¡¯t sound like the talk of a champion, even one demoted to bodyguard. I gave Malia a look.


    ¡°I tried for years to get him to see the connection between trailblazing and captaining.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Cultural inferiority complex from their association of stewardship with escorts.¡±


    ¡°So a glorified caravan mercenary?¡± I felt like I was missing something. While that would explain his lack of ambition and disgruntlement at being replaced as champion, it did nothing to shed light on why Malia had recruited him in the first place.


    ¡°He has a natural affinity for weapons.¡± Chin in hand, Malia tapped her lips. ¡°Tell me, do you see the touch of any other god upon him?¡±


    I frowned. ¡°No?¡±


    ¡°So no blessings that you can sense.¡± She was setting up to reveal something, and enjoying herself in the process.


    ¡°Not unless they¡¯ve been masked.¡±


    ¡°And I have yet to give him ambrosia.¡± Her fangs glistened in the afternoon sun. ¡°When I found him, he was neck-deep in a sortie against kilt-clad kinsmen. Brow dry, laughing, and completely unfazed by the axe of pure celestial steel he wielded.¡±


    ¡°Let me see your hands.¡± Malia leaned back as I reached across to grip Thrax¡¯s wrist. Neither palm was branded. Lined, calloused, and leathery, yes, but not a bit withered. His grip was firm, his forearm far from eroded. No sign whatsoever that he¡¯d employed celestial steel.


    He smiled as I let go. ¡°The serpentine goddess reacted much the same when she first revealed herself to me.¡±


    I tried not to frown too much as I sat back. ¡°Where did you find celestial steel? What smith fashioned it for you?¡±


    ¡°It was a family heirloom.¡± He shook his head. ¡°My father¡¯s father did not know its origin, and only a vague rumor alluded to its heritage of faraway highlands.¡±


    A hereditary resistance to celestial steel? Most mortals experienced extreme scarring on whichever limb employed the metal, and sudden madness in rarer cases. Even Hasda, with his exposure to Nebesa and direct, divine tutelage would still need ambrosia before he could wield a blade with an alloy diluting the metal to a sixteenth its full strength. No wonder Malia had picked him. A simple mortal swinging unadulterated celestial steel like a plaything¡ªwithout succumbing to irrecoverable illness¡ªwas a remarkable thing indeed.


    ¡°You¡¯ve felt nothing strange while using the axe?¡± I said. ¡°No headaches, muscle convulsions, hallucinations?¡±


    His white teeth filled his smile. ¡°It is, if the mighty god will forgive my irreverence, like hearing an echo from years ago. These are much the same questions that the great goddess Malia asked of me.¡± He shook his head. ¡°While the axe holds great familial significance, in battle it is as any other to me. That it resists the touch of thieves has been a boon, however, and has aided me in my service to the several trader trains that I have shepherded through the wilderness.¡±


    ¡°It would do that, yes.¡± I grunted. ¡°So you and Hasda work well together?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, very well indeed.¡± It was a wonder his cheeks didn¡¯t split from all the smiling he did. ¡°He is a fantastic warrior and a good friend. But, if I must find fault, it is that his love of wrestling does not match mine.¡±


    Hasda nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone does. This man would wrestle the clouds from the sky, if he could reach them, and no sickness could stand between him and a bout. The first time he challenged me, he was scratched up and shivering from wrangling a wild boar during a fall downpour.¡±


    ¡°I still won.¡± Thrax speared his meat and chewed it slowly.


    ¡°And you spent a week recovering because you couldn¡¯t stop shaking afterwards.¡± Hasda gave him a look that was the spitting image of my own choice expression of reprimand.


    It was strange, seeing how much Hasda had grown from the drooling toddler Malia had left on my doorstep. A competent commander with a dedicated, if detrimentally-driven, second, and a completing half keeping watch over their brood. And he approached the end of his Trials, poised to successfully conclude them. With Malia seemingly fully behind his ascent past demigodhood, it left me hopeful for his future.


    Assuming, that is, we could beat the Sea Mother. And that was going to be a Trial unto itself.

 Chapter 107: The Hithicahm

    Waking up to a faceful of rain was not the way I wanted to rise from my after-celebration stupor.


    Hasda and Thrax had recounted their skirmishes against the Stitcher¡¯s undead, and how they planned to strike into Batavii before the Stitcher found a counter to the djinn. When Jade arrived late in the evening, after being relieved of hydra duty by Phemonoe, she and Hasda had spirited themselves away for some alone time before his Trial. Tarrha had gotten to Thrax shortly thereafter, since a group of minor gods had thronged him in Hasda¡¯s absence and the love goddess found them an excellent smokescreen from Malia. I wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d gotten away completely unseen, but Malia was rather engrossed with Phaeus at the time, debating the particulars of the alloy he¡¯d smithed Hasda¡¯s newest swords from. Others had paired off as Ulti crept off to dance across the night sky, Malia and I staying to talk with Seppo about officially integrating Frischii, Batavii, and the other territories in Curnerein.


    Thoughts of such logistical problems fled as Resef stormed into the hall, dripping wet. Not angrily, but chased by dark thunderheads. If he was manifesting a tempest, then the contest for the Great Sea was not going in his favor.


    Seppo jerked awake mid-snore. ¡°Eh, what¡¯s all this?¡±


    ¡°My apologies, Seppo.¡± Resef¡¯s thick hair clung to his forehead as rivulets striped his face. ¡°I held out as long as I could, but the time has come. We need your trireme.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t handle your one domain?¡± Malia shielded herself beneath her wings, resting her head on her arms.


    ¡°The Paedens will never claim the Sea, so long as I remain.¡± His eyes clouded like the sky outside. ¡°But I cannot rebuff them and defend our ships at the same time. Even with Synnefo¡¯s return, they are gaining leagues. Their sea goddess fields more and more derketo against us, and if I whip the waters so that they drown, I capsize as many of our fleet.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Their goddess is slippery. It¡¯s hard to keep her at bay for long.¡±


    ¡°And none of your creatures have been of help?¡± Seppo was standing by this point, and half turned to start pacing, despite the rain.


    Resef shook his head. ¡°What derketo we had have defected to their Paeden brethren. Every battle sees the poccahm¡¯s numbers dwindle, and the derketo have learned to avoid their screams. And the hithicahm cannot roam uncontested. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s Paeden or something more ancient, but a divine chimera that¡¯s part otter, part shark lurks in the depths and chases the heels of the hithicahm unseen. I cannot contain it while fighting the Paedens.¡±


    The hithicahm was Resef¡¯s divine beast, a powerful monster with a piscine horse for its upper body and fully fish behind. Its descendents, the poccahm, had traded the equestrian head for that of a seal, their hooves for webbed claws. Called sea wolves by our mortals, they had a hypersonic cry that could boil the ocean and shred the skin of anything caught in the jetstream. In the past, they¡¯d been our foil to the derketo, but the Paeden¡¯s aquatic beasts finally adapting to ours meant the battlefield was leveling.


    Malia stirred, hunger creeping into her eyes. ¡°A new divine beast?¡±


    ¡°While I would appreciate your help, I would not draw you from your champion¡¯s Trial.¡± Resef wrung the base of his shirt, more a nervous habit than to dry it, as the rain showed no signs of lessening. The few straggling minor gods, roused by his storm, scurried out of the feasting hall after collecting their things. The Sea God paid them no mind as they left. ¡°Seppo, I hate to sound ungrateful, but Synnefo has been of little use. He is oft lost in his own thoughts, and what tempests he raises against the Paedens feel¡­half the strength of those Zephyrus could manage. It is as if his heart isn¡¯t in the defense.¡±


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°He has always kept to himself.¡± Seppo stumped back and forth, displacing a few small puddles that had formed on the floor. ¡°Very well. Recall what mortals you can and I will launch. Charax, you and Malia should collect your, er, fosterlings and head to Frischii. Kydon went ahead of you last night and awaits your arrival.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get Thrax.¡± Malia pushed herself off the table.


    I caught her arm. ¡°I¡¯ll get Thrax. You collect Hasda.¡±


    ¡°I have spent more time with Thrax.¡± Malia gave me a cool look. ¡°And I¡¯d rather not disturb Hasda if he¡¯s presently involved with Jade.¡±


    ¡°Then knock before you enter.¡± I met her scowl with a grin. ¡°You¡¯d have no qualms about walking in on Thrax. No picking fights right before we¡¯re supposed to leave. Besides, don¡¯t you have surprises to prepare? Kydon already has a head start on weeding them out.¡±


    ¡°Bastard.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d directed that at me or the Arbiter but, given the way her snakes writhed around each other as she left, it likely included us both. It was strange. Malia was rarely possessive of her champions. True, she didn¡¯t like others meddling, but she never gave up the opportunity to create indebtedness or favorable advances. Tarrha must have done something to piss her off if she was passing on a banked favor. While I had no plans to pry, I did want to get to know Thrax a little better before we arrived. And leaving Malia to ambush Tarrha would be a poor way to lose Hasda¡¯s bodyguard.


    Tarrha¡¯s temple, however, held no gods. Incense from supplicants and her host of suggestively-clad priests filled the halls, but the goddess had left sometime in the early morning. The priests were unsure if Thrax had accompanied her the night before, but she¡¯d departed by herself. I thanked them and went in the direction they indicated.


    A few streets later, I entered the agora. Less a marketplace and more an open-air parlor, the agora was ringed by steps that dualed as reclining seats. Four fountains formed a square in the plaza, water dancing with bubbles and nymphs. A bonfire roared in the center, salamanders, spirits, and phoenixes roosting in the logs. Minor gods mingled with leafy dryads and thick-furred satyrs. And yet, Tarrha was not among the scattered groups. But the soldiers I saw gave me an idea.


    Dipping my head at the various greetings, I made my way to a side well that led to a nearby training grounds. Though not the facilities that Seppo¡¯s elites used, it nevertheless had a considerable array of arenas and courses for the celestial troops. Wooden observatory towers rose into the sky, spaced irregularly around the training pits. It¡¯d been a good few centuries since I¡¯d last climbed one, but I could still feel the grain of the rungs on my palms.


    Thrax was, of course, in the middle of one sparring pit, surrounded by bare-chested warriors. While they¡¯d stripped down to leather skirts, Thrax wore what could charitably be called a loin cloth. Six on one, he had a stave to their swords, they with shields and he without. His scar-pocked skin glistened with sweat, but he smiled broadly, his breathing unlabored.


    The crack of wood on wood filled the air. Thrax whirled the staff, repulsing the pair on his flank while pressing against the two in front. One chopped on his left as another thrust from his right, but he bent like a willow and dodged. Grabbing the downward stroke, he flipped the soldier over his shoulder and threw him into the one striking low. Dust flew as the soldiers picked themselves up and reformed their ring.


    Thrax moved with a grace that belied his size. Fire-side stories loved that phrase, bards relishing the thrill of a massive warrior who could move with speed. It¡¯s easy to forget what that actually means in practice. In that ring, Thrax carried himself like a lion. Poised, wary, coiled power. Sure footsteps. Quick, yet solid, strikes. He could handle himself and then some with ease.


    He hadn¡¯t quite attracted a crowd, but his performance had garnered quite a bit of attention. Several of the observatory towers were occupied, the nearest with Tarrha peering over the edge. She must have felt my gaze, because she gave me a sour frown, mouthed ¡®he will be mine,¡¯ and then vanished, teal portal flaring behind her.


    I shook my head. That woman. Thrax¡¯s position was awkward enough without her throwing contention into the mix. When a candidate had been claimed by a god, no other deity could bind them. Support them, yes, and shower them with gifts, but the preeminent patronage belonged to the god who¡¯d named the champion as their own. Normally, this was because a candidate¡¯s failure resulted in their untimely end, and if they survived a Trial they failed to pass, they would be released to the mortal realm to live out the rest of their days in peace.


    However, Thrax inhabited that strange space of transition. In the off-chance that a retiring god had a champion hopeful, they would either be gifted to the new god or taken with the old as a priest. Malia was neither, welcoming back an old partner and merging her current Office with one she¡¯d once held. Instead of relinquishing Thrax, she¡¯d retained him. While he seemed happy with his demotion, I couldn¡¯t trust such affability would remain, no matter what he thought of Hasda. Human hearts were fickle things.


    Such thoughts swirled around my head as he finished his sparring and joined me outside the pits. His smile was broad and genuine, and I hated to lay such mistrust at his feet. But I would watch him, during this final Trial, and make sure he hid no guile. Malia¡¯s about face was a recent development. Her hidden scheming tendencies tended to rub off on her followers.


    For Hasda¡¯s sake, I hoped Thrax was as honest as he seemed.

 Chapter 108: The Ambrosia

    After collecting Thrax¡¯s few possessions, mostly spare clothes and his celestial steel hammer, we met up with Malia and Hasda in my maas. Hasda wore his corrupted armor, though he looked far healthier than he had in months. The ugly purple weld remained but the djinn¡ªSaran, if I remembered correctly¡ªhad muffled his aura. Surprisingly, the scabbard by Hasda¡¯s side was bare. With how many practice swords he¡¯d gone through, I¡¯d have thought he¡¯d want real steel in his hands again, but he didn¡¯t even have a hunting knife in his belt.


    Wings folded, Malia wore her War Bow strapped to her back. She glided across the flagstones, scales catching the early morning sunlight. Those weren¡¯t the only things glistening, however. Her eyes had that scheming look again, and suddenly she was carrying a long, leather-swaddled bundle, a wineskin bouncing against her hip.


    I paused, halfway through my portal. Thrax hadn¡¯t noticed the change and went through without hesitating.


    ¡°Have my dashing looks left you starstruck again?¡± Malia flashed me a coy smile.


    I grunted and snapped my portal shut. ¡°The beacons of your eyes warn of an impending plot.¡±


    Throwing her head back, she trilled a laugh that ended in another fang-filled smile. ¡°Are my gifts truly so terrifying?¡±


    ¡°For those receiving them? Sometimes.¡± I grinned at her frown. ¡°Who is the fortunate recipient this time?¡±


    ¡°Your verboseness lies near to mocking.¡± Sliding up to me, she snuck a kiss before turning to face Hasda, who¡¯d followed her over. She set the bundle down and unfastened the wineskin. ¡°The time has come.¡±


    ¡°Is that¡­?¡± I sniffed the air. Yep, definitely ambrosia.


    ¡°Don¡¯t scowl like that.¡± She swatted my arm. ¡°It¡¯s diluted, and necessary for the second surprise.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Hasda asked as Malia handed him the skin.


    ¡°Just taste it.¡± Malia gave him a reassuring smile.


    Shrugging, Hasda raised the skin and downed the contents. His eyes watered a little, but he drank the whole without a fuss. When he finished, he wiped his mouth and handed the pouch back. ¡°That was¡­strange. But not horrible.¡±


    Malia and I waited for something to change.


    Nothing happened.


    No surge of power, no convulsions, no raving or foaming at the mouth. His muscles gained perhaps a hair of definition, but they didn¡¯t inflate to ridiculous proportions. His abdomen likewise remained at its proper size and in its proper place.


    I released a breath I didn¡¯t realize I was holding. Not that I thought he would react poorly to ambrosia, but there was always the chance that he was allergic. Most mortals could handle diluted ambrosia, regardless of whether they¡¯d visited Nebesa before. Usually they would be healed of defects, handicaps, and recent injuries. Sometimes, however, their mortal frame became confused instead of rejuvenated, going into overdrive as it grew in unintended ways. These were very rare cases and easily reversible with a god present, but it wasn¡¯t a pleasant experience.


    Hasda wasn¡¯t even breathing hard. His training had conditioned him well, and I suspected the djinn¡¯s influence had only increased his affinity for all things divine. A healthy glow permeated his skin, not enough to erase all of the paleness from his time with Saran and also not enough to make him literally luminescent. But his color returned. I hadn¡¯t realized how much he¡¯d lost until he got it back.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Everything feel okay?¡± I smiled at his confused look. ¡°No headaches? Double vision? Thick tongue?¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t poison, was it?¡± His eyes looked at the wineskin in disbelief. ¡°My spine tingled a little, but that¡¯s it. I thought it tasted fine, though.¡±


    ¡°That was mixed ambrosia.¡± Malia retrieved her bundle from the ground and slid next to Hasda. Looking him up and down, she nodded, satisfied that he¡¯d handled the draught well. ¡°Without it, this would steal your life force and permanently maim you.¡±


    He had a stiffer spine than mine, not flinching away from the bundle as Malia disclosed its contents. Inside lay a silvery-blue blade, longer and thinner than a standard falcata, but less curved and not as wide. The cutting edges¡ªhalf of the back and all of the front¡ªhad been sharpened to a fine point, and had scored the leather in several points as Malia had carried it. Phaeus had outdone himself on the curved hilt, substituting a serpent for the normal equestrian decoration. Something about the way the dwarf had crafted the ornamentation suggested a lamia, although I couldn¡¯t put my finger on why I thought that until I realized that Phaeus had worked powdered green stone into the eyes: jade.


    It was a worthy sword, most of all because it had been forged of an alloy of celestial steel. Its presence explained Malia¡¯s insistence on the ambrosia before giving this gift.


    As Hasda picked up the sword and admired its length, Malia said, ¡°I had Phaeus fashion this with an alloy of mortal and celestial steel. You will find it more resilient than the blades you¡¯ve been using, despite its lightness. Be wary, though. Even with only a quarter celestial steel, it will still drain you, so watch how fatigued you become while fighting with it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡± His eyes glistened. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°As for you,¡± she continued, turning to Thrax, ¡°my gift is far less flashy, but far more dangerous.¡± Dropping the leather, she revealed an ivory, plum-sized fruit. ¡°Eat this in your time of greatest need, and only then. It will give you the strength of gods for a space, but it will tax you in mortal years for it. Don¡¯t worry about misplacing it or carrying it with you, because it will be at hand when you have need of it.¡±


    The burly man cupped it in his hands, bowing deeply. ¡°The great goddess is too generous by far. I am humbled and deeply honored.¡±


    Malia snorted. ¡°Pray you are not deeply dead after you partake of it.¡±


    I gave her a sideways look. ¡°Where did you get a mushush? We razed every grove when we overthrew Seppo¡¯s mother.¡±


    ¡°Every grove you found.¡± Her eyes sparkled. ¡°And no, even if I let you waste my garden over it, you wouldn¡¯t be able to exterminate the whole of the breed. I have eggs in other nests.¡±


    That made me choke on my protest. ¡°You laid another egg?¡±


    Hissing, she smacked my shoulder. ¡°I did no such thing. A turn of phrase, you thick-headed idiot.¡±


    I grinned. ¡°Well, if you haven¡¯t, I could always help you make anoth¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut.¡± Putting a finger on my lips, she massaged the bridge of her nose. ¡°Should¡¯ve gotten you out of that bed earlier. Phemonoe was warned to keep your mind safe from fracturing, not brain rot.¡±


    ¡°Which reminds me.¡± I gave Hasda¡¯s chestplate a stern look. ¡°Djinn, we need to talk.¡±


    A pair of eyes coalesced on the metal, the welt angled between them. ¡°If you wish to chastise, I do not need to manifest to receive it.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Actually, I wanted to say that I appreciate whatever you¡¯ve been doing. Hasda looks better than he has in a long time.¡±


    Hasda opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. I wasn¡¯t sure what that look was for, but he had a concerned look on his face.


    The djinn¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Ah, mockery. Well, I would appreciate being left to face such ridicule without my partial visage present.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re an ungrateful ass.¡± Malia snapped. ¡°Charax does not lightly level praise, and you would do well not to spit in his face when he does.¡±


    I set a hand on her arm. ¡°What do you mean, mockery?¡±


    The djinn rolled his eyes. ¡°From where does his haleness hail? Bound by better than bond, which way do the scales balance?¡±


    ¡°Hasda?¡± I looked at him in askance.


    He shrugged and rubbed his neck. ¡°He has been withdrawing into the armor a lot, recently. He¡¯s sick, or starving. I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s wrong.¡±


    ¡°Devoid of life, obstructed by oath, serving despite my sentence.¡± The djinn sounded hollow despite how full of bitterness he was.


    ¡°You can be obtuse in there or out here.¡± I folded my arms. ¡°This is Hasda¡¯s final Trial, so if you¡¯re going to help him, you need to be in prime condition. And if you can¡¯t, or won¡¯t, I¡¯ll keep you here so that he can focus fully.¡±


    ¡°Stupid, insolent, ignorant simpleton.¡± Saran came all the way out now, head, arms, and torso floating in front of Hasda. Practically a skeleton, his cheeks had deeply sunk, leaving his eyes bulging, and his peeled lips bared his teeth in a wasted leer. ¡°How long have you meddled in the Sea Mother¡¯s affairs, and you fail yet to grasp the significance of events dancing on your very eyelids?¡±


    ¡°Then explain it to me.¡±


    ¡°It is not that I am bound to armor which makes me what I am.¡± He thrust an angry finger at the warted metal. ¡°How could you have pulled me from the killing field, and not realized?¡± He sneered, shaking his head. ¡°Tuzshu were more than warriors because of the djinn they bonded with. Without their warriors, the tuzshu were incomplete, a half-form, yet without the djinni the tuzshu could not be.¡± He barked a laugh. ¡°And I am tuzshu, through and through.¡±

 Chapter 109: The Nirarin

    I scowled at the djinn. ¡°You¡¯re still talking in circles. Hasda, does this make any sense to you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he began, but the djinn cut him off.


    ¡°Of course he doesn¡¯t understand. He never thought to ask.¡± Saran sneered.


    Sighing, I reached for the djinn. Hissing, he jerked back, half submerging himself in the armor. Keeping my fingers within snatching distance, I gave him a level stare. ¡°Straight answers, or I will pull you from the armor and put you to earth. What are you babbling about?¡±


    The djinn watched my fingers, like a serpent entranced. ¡°You know nothing of the various kinds of spirits, as you proved by binding me to armor. I am of the tuzshu, who are incomplete without a mortal host. When warrior and spirit become one, their union culminates in a perfected being¡ªa tuzshu.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain why you¡¯ve deteriorated so much.¡± I pulled my arm back and put it around Malia as she slid next to me.


    ¡°Because you have sworn me to starvation with your oaths.¡± A look of pure disgust filled its face. ¡°Even the lowest nirarin would not have been so stupid.¡±


    Malia stirred. ¡°Nirarin?¡±


    ¡°The oath-holders.¡± The djinn¡¯s laugh was mocking. ¡°What? You thought the ancients let their god-killers run loose?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense.¡± I scowled at the djinn. ¡°If the tuzshu djinn were bound by oaths before, why are you starving now? You swore an oath even from the first day we knew you.¡±


    ¡°Because,¡± the djinn hissed, ¡°you have prevented me, at every step, from fulfilling the completion of the bond. I am a drifting half, forced to restrain myself to the point of extinction by the vows levied upon me. But even a faded existence is better than total annihilation.¡±


    I frowned. There was always the possibility that the djinn was bluffing, or had outright fabricated everything, but then again, he could be telling the truth. I had never pressed the djinn about the exact nature of his bond with Hasda. If theirs was an assimilative bond, then it might have progressed to the point where the djinn would have to pull back to maintain the same level of symbiosis as before. But he hadn¡¯t deteriorated so after the second time I¡¯d confronted him.


    Unless this was what two years had done to him since then.


    I shook my head as my scowl returned. ¡°What happens when the union completes?¡±


    ¡°We become full-fledged tuzshu, able to move as one.¡± The djinn sounded cautious, as if it wanted to reveal as little as possible.


    ¡°Can you fulfill the bond without Hasda losing himself?¡± I remembered the look in his eyes as he¡¯d battled with djinn fire engulfed armor, and the lack of Hasda in that look. ¡°Is it permanent?¡±


    ¡°Loss? The birth of a tuzshu is a glorious thing.¡± Saran did his best to sound reserved, but he couldn¡¯t keep the excitement from his voice. ¡°It is a metamorphosis of the soul. How to describe it to one who could never experience it? While we remain distinct, during battle we become as one. ¡®Losing yourself.¡¯¡± The djinn spat. ¡°How crass. Battle frenzy is a poor metaphor for the harmony that is a tuzshu consumed in conflict. It is an unparalleled ecstasy, permeated wholly by each other, every sense alert, every thought heightened near divine. Nothing can match a tuzshu in battle except, perhaps, the gods themselves.¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°Funny you should mention that,¡± Malia said coolly. ¡°Given that the purpose of the tuzshu was to overthrow and slay the gods.¡±


    ¡°And that is why they were constrained by the nirarin,¡± Saran snapped. ¡°Our oaths kept us from moving against the pantheon that had bound us, as Charax, despite his ignorance, has managed to do. I can no more move against a single Carthian deity than I can complete the tuzshu bond with Hasda.¡±


    Malia tugged at my robes and motioned me aside. Leaning close, she whispered, ¡°I talked to Jade about the tuzshu. They followed the Sea Mother, not the Paedens. But, the Paedens were able to bring them down from within, and a faction served against the elder goddess.¡± She jerked her head towards the djinn. ¡°We could use him. Especially if the Sea Mother is in Batavii.¡±


    ¡°And risk Hasda?¡± I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t trust that this is just a ¡®transcendent state¡¯ they can assume and drop at will.¡±


    Malia folded her arms and flicked her wings. ¡°Given Phe¡¯s portents, I think it¡¯s a risk worth taking.¡±


    ¡°Given exactly what she said, he¡¯d as likely emerge maimed as unscathed.¡± I met her glare with my own. ¡°This is the last Trial. I don¡¯t want to jeopardize him or his chances of success by introducing any unknowns, particularly one as volatile as this.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you let him decide?¡± Her eyes flashed.


    I blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    Snakes slithering, she poked my shoulder. ¡°He¡¯s been with Saran for years now. Perhaps he knows more about this djinn and the nature of their bond than you do.¡± Smiling, she gave me one of those adoring looks meant to disarm. ¡°You¡¯re being protective, which is admirable and one of the things I love about you, but you can¡¯t protect him forever.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I need to let him stick his hand in a hornet¡¯s nest to see if he¡¯s allergic.¡±


    ¡°Confronting a hostile god sits at the center of his final Trial.¡± She laughed. ¡°What better way to protect him than to let him protect himself?¡± Her smile faded, her face serious. ¡°The god-killers weren¡¯t just a part of why the Paedens successfully overthrew Tamiyat, they were integral to it. We will have to confront her eventually, and we may need Hasda¡¯s help. I have done my best to position us so that we can handle her when she arrives in full strength, but¡­¡± She shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ll need every weapon in our armory.¡±


    I let out a long sigh. She had a point. Once Hasda became a champion, Malia and I could only shepherd him so much. Even less so if¡­once he became a minor god. And I had to admit that what power the two, working in tandem, had already displayed was impressive.


    ¡°All right.¡± I frowned. ¡°But I don¡¯t have to like it.¡±


    She smiled as she took my arm and dragged me back over to Thrax and Hasda, who had moved next to the fountain, admiring the mushush Malia had gifted Thrax. The djinn floated behind them, watching me warily.


    ¡°Come here, lad.¡± I waved him over, trying to keep the sadness out of my voice. It still sounded heavy, even to me.


    With a glance to Thrax, he walked up to us. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°That¡­djinn of yours. Do you trust it?¡±


    He tilted his head. ¡°Well, I know you mistrust him, but he¡¯s proved himself reliable.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll leave the decision up to you. Djinn.¡± I snapped my fingers at the spirit. ¡°I¡¯m relinquishing you of the binding preventing you from completing the bond, but it is Hasda¡¯s decision to finish the process.¡±


    The djinn¡¯s eyes flickered, and he sank into the armor with a small smile. ¡°You are too kind.¡±


    Hasda looked troubled. ¡°Should I?¡±


    ¡°It is your decision now.¡± I patted his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll make the right choice.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but¡­¡± He frowned. ¡°What would you suggest? I would appreciate your advice.¡±


    That set a bonfire of pride in my heart. Absolutely beautiful child.


    ¡°Proceed with caution, and do not lose yourself in or to it. I don¡¯t trust this spirit, and I would watch everything it says for a hidden third, or fourth, meaning.¡± Sighing, I folded my hands together, rubbing my palm with my thumb. ¡°But, I must admit that the road ahead will be full of hardships and enemies pitched against you. You may have need of such power in your upcoming Trial, and almost certainly after that. If you can conclude your Trials without it, that would be best, but it may not be possible.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°And you? What do you think, Malia?¡±


    ¡°I would have joined with the djinn from the first.¡± She hugged my arm with a smile. ¡°But your father is right. Sometimes caution is the best expedient. While I am the better hunter between us, he¡¯s found two snares with his wariness that I did not.¡±


    ¡°Thrax?¡± His voice held no uncertainty as he asked.


    The big man folded his arms and hummed. ¡°I think, perhaps, your celestial parents have found themselves with a dragon hatchling, when they thought they had a lizard.¡±


    ¡°So you would advise against it?¡± Hasda glanced at his armor.


    Thrax shook his head. ¡°What better wisdom could you ask for than that of the heavens? They bid you be vigilant, but do not forbid that which they now leave open to you. So I would follow the path they have shown with eyes wide open.¡±


    Rubbing his chin, Hasda nodded slowly. ¡°Then I will wait, until I can wait no more. But I will have to discuss the process with Saran, so I know what to do before the heat of battle.¡±

 Chapter 110: The Numb

    Shortly after Hasda¡¯s decision, we embarked on our journey through the maas to his final Trial. A few dry, sandy maas and Tarrha¡¯s, which was surprisingly aquatic, later and we entered the final maas before Frischii. Like the land beyond, the maas was smeared with forests, swamps, and humidity that thickened the air with oppressive heat. Thankfully, none of the gnats that would plague us on exit lived within the maas system, but the condensation that beaded our skin was certainly unwelcome.


    Curnerein delivered on the midges and mosquitoes as soon as the portal opened. We came out to the south of Kirunadh, the northernmost village of Frischii. It was a village besieged, surrounded by a pike-filled moat and wooden walls that ended in the moat¡¯s embankments. Staves had been into the ground near the edge of the outside ring, angled away from the moat, and several held decapitated, gray-skinned corpses impaled upon them. Despite the heat and bright sun, the archers in the watchtowers burned torches in easy reach.


    What people we saw foraging outside the village wandered with eyes as dead as the land felt. No furtive movements, no cautious glances over their shoulders as they checked for an undead swarm. They¡¯d passed beyond jaded to utterly numb.


    In contrast, the soldiers drilling on the fields seemed lively, almost excited. Their movements snapped, practice swords and staves cracking against each other with enthusiasm. Sandaled feet bounced on the springy ground, tunics glued to sides by sweat and muggy air.


    Distinct from both groups was the man who stood a few spans from the village gate. When he saw us, he stumped over with his staff, a scowl crinkling the sweat on his face. Bowing, he revealed a bald patch in his otherwise full, dark hair. ¡°It is good that you have returned, Lord Hasda. And greetings, to his gods. Your arrival is a welcome and blessed event.¡±


    ¡°A blessing upon you, Master Salason, and a pox upon this accursed heat.¡± Malia fanned herself with a wing. ¡°What news have you? Has the Weeping Queen shown herself?¡±


    The man shook his head. ¡°We have tried to contact the Sivariians, but they stay in their swamps. Rumors say Vythar has settled with the Elthiians after his brother Oophan¡¯s death, but the Stitcher still holds Balphar¡¯s Hall. The Sleepless still come but, ever since Hasda repelled them, they have kept no camp on our side of the Fyrisard.¡± He coughed. ¡°Is this plague finally to be ended?¡±


    ¡°Very soon.¡± Malia gave him a reassuring smile. ¡°Our heroes have rested and prepared, and before summer¡¯s end Frischii shall be free of the soulless.¡±


    ¡°Not before the Trial begins,¡± Kydon rumbled.


    We all jumped a little. No one had seen the half-troll arrive, and his portal hadn¡¯t given him away. He must have figured out a way to cloak it. I¡¯d ask him about it later.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to commence it immediately?¡± I turned to face the grinning ogre.


    ¡°You would give me free rein over the finer details?¡± His toothy smile was almost a leer.


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Malia snapped. Her wings beat the air in agitation, both at the Arbiter and the weather. ¡°What did you have in mind?¡±


    ¡°I must search the Trial grounds for any gifts you might have hidden.¡± Kydon scanned our surroundings, as if he could already see a handful of concealed stashes. ¡°But, as I understand that the land across the river is held by the Stitcher, anything stockpiles you¡¯ve laid beyond it shall be permitted.¡±


    ¡°Only beyond? What of those within?¡± Her eyes sparkled at his frown.


    ¡°If it is within the Frischiian banks, then no. The banks shall terminate at the point where Hasda¡¯s knees are hidden by the waters of the Fyrisard.¡±


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Malia nodded. ¡°It is acceptable. What gods are barred from direct involvement?¡±


    ¡°Only you and Charax, who are limited to advising your champion during the Trials and withdrawing him if you fear for his life, as is tradition.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°Although my gut says that your proxies should be disbarred as well. You know how your hands are tied by the rules of the Trial, and that other gods may meddle as they wish. Why, then, would you ask now?¡±


    A ghost of a smile flitted across her lips. ¡°No reason.¡±


    ¡°I heard about how you released Vetor in Tingid.¡± The ogre folded his arms. ¡°So, as Peklo falls within your jurisdiction, I must add that the souls of fallen legends, though not divine, strictly speaking, constitute divine puppets, and therefore direct extensions of you. Please refrain from unleashing any upon this Trial.¡±


    ¡°As much as I¡¯d like to contest that, fine.¡± She pursed her lips.¡±And the gifts on this side which you fail to discover?¡±


    ¡°I will find them.¡± Kydon bared his teeth and flexed his muscles, drawing his shoulders up. ¡°Three days, and then the Trial will commence. You may finish your preparations while I search.¡±


    ¡°Hope you enjoy your surprise. I picked it especially just for you.¡± She gave him an innocent smile.


    Scowling, the Arbiter said nothing as he stumped off.


    The village elder clasped his hands and bowed slightly. ¡°All is well?¡±


    ¡°As well as it may be, Master Salason. But this heat withers me.¡± She flurried her wings. ¡°I will retire to my dwelling. It is still furnished, I hope?¡±


    He nodded vigorously. ¡°It is as you left it, great goddess, but I fear that we have no abode prepared for your fellow pantheoner. The village is small, as you have well seen from your time among us, and with the attacks¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite all right,¡± Malia said, cutting him off with a flick of her hand. ¡°My mate requires no separate quarters.¡±


    ¡°I am relieved.¡± And he was. He stood a little straighter, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.


    ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse us, we¡¯ll be taking a reprieve in our accommodations. We¡¯ve a few days before we begin in earnest, and I must bring my husband abreast of the events at hand.¡± Curling a wing around me, she ushered us towards the village. Glancing over her shoulder, she dismissed Hasda and Salason in the same breath, the former to the troops and the latter to whatever business he had to be about. Thrax trotted in Hasda¡¯s wake as the pair made their way to the field, and the elder disappeared amongst the foragers.


    Despite the rustic aesthetic, Kirunadh had a drawbridge of sturdy oak, raised and lowered by braided ropes. The path outside the village was spongy although well-beaten, but inside the town the ground was harder packed, mud mingled with dust and hay. I wasn¡¯t sure where they¡¯d gotten the straw from, because it didn¡¯t match the wild grass that grew in the area, but it served to keep the village from being a mud pit within the walls.


    Our tabernacle looked no different from the wooden huts the mortals inhabited, save perhaps for its height and the twiggy wreath on the lintel that might have been a gorgon¡¯s head. Two gray stones hung where eyes might be, thin sticks for fangs, and scattered feathers intertwined in the circle, though not clustered in wings.


    Malia pushed the thin wooden door open and ushered me inside with a flourish. Heat blasted from within as the trapped air escaped outside. Within was a simple bed, rough table, and a wardrobe that was little more than boards nailed together.


    ¡°This is it? I¡¯m surprised you haven¡¯t plastered war plans floor to ceiling.¡± I ducked through the doorframe and straightened. While the door was too short, the ceiling was high enough that I could stand comfortably.


    Chuckling, Malia slipped in behind me, her wings the only thing too tall for the frame. ¡°Since the Stitcher is Hasda¡¯s responsibility, there¡¯s been nothing to do but repel and defend. Such a simple existence has required little planning.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± I gave her a look, although she didn¡¯t see it since she was rummaging in the wardrobe. ¡°And what gifts did you leave for Hasda this time? And Kydon?¡±


    She snorted a laugh as she brought out a map and spread it on the table. ¡°Now there¡¯s a surprise.¡±


    I came up behind her and hugged her, careful of her wings. ¡°Care to share?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s going to waste three days looking for something that¡¯s not there.¡± She settled back into me with a contented hum. ¡°And yes, I¡¯m serious. No gifts, no surprises, no secret stashes.¡±


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I put my hand to her forehead. ¡°Are you ill? Residual effects from that plague god¡¯s poison?¡±


    She was so pleased with herself she was practically purring. ¡°Kydon doesn¡¯t know about my garden, so those are free game. Not to mention that others may move in our stead without violating the rules of the Trial.¡± Sighing, she leaned forward to absently tap the map. ¡°But Hasda has grown independent, and he¡¯ll be more satisfied finishing this Trial on his own, as much as he can. I won¡¯t move unless absolutely necessary, so his glory isn¡¯t soured. However¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    Her eyes flashed as she looked up at me. ¡°I¡¯m going to enjoy irritating the fire out of that stupid oaf when he comes up empty-handed. Not all gifts are corporeal. I wonder how long it will take him to realize?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re diabolical.¡± I kissed the top of her head.


    She giggled. ¡°¡®Effortless¡¯ and ¡®thoughtless¡¯ are no twins, though they can be companions.¡±


    A horn sounded somewhere in the compound.


    ¡°The last player on the stage.¡± Her fangs peeked out as she smiled. ¡°Come, let¡¯s see the Sleepless. We can discuss the lay of the land later.¡±

 Chapter 111: The Sleepless

    The archers¡¯ bowstrings twanged well before we reached the wall. As we approached, I watched them light their arrows with the nearby torches before launching them at unseen enemies below. I climbed a ladder to reach the top of the wall, Malia flapping up beside me.


    Ah, so that¡¯s why they¡¯re called the Sleepless.


    A pack of no more than twenty, the gray-skinned undead moaning and careening away from the flaming arrows looked like mortals who¡¯d lived without a night¡¯s sleep of any kind, ever. Waxy bags folded over each other, layer upon layer, from beneath their sunken eyes all the way to their jaws, leaving their cheeks streaked with twin columns of dark ripples. Every soulless had a black hole in their chest that punched all the way through, the edges ragged despite the perfect circle bored through their ribs.


    Those macabre features aside, the Sleepless looked composed of normal mortals. No nauseating smell of decay, no decomposition compromising their bodies, no exaggerated features¡ªalthough most looked as if their muscles had atrophied a bit. And their eyes, while clouded with cataracts, held a certain intelligence not often wasted on reanimated corpses. They worked together, avoiding the fiery volleys, and snarled and clacked their teeth at the spiked moat. When a few clustered and attempted to build a bridge of impaled bodies, the archers focused their fire on the breach and the soulless fell back with half their original number. Soldiers slipped from sally ports to pry the burning corpses off the pikes and repair the moat as the surviving undead disappeared in the distance.


    Malia scowled at the retreating lifeless. ¡°Strange.¡±


    ¡°That there were so few?¡±


    Nodding, she folded her arms. ¡°They¡¯d been sending ever-increasing hordes until Hasda unveiled his fire. After that they ceased, but why they chose now to resume their raids seems entirely too convenient.¡±


    ¡°Could they have been scouting?¡± I watched the soldiers hack at the bodies with hatchets. Though their spirits didn¡¯t display the numbness that had plagued the villagers, it certainly colored their actions. ¡°Unless their numbers have been reduced drastically.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know how many they started with, or whether replenishing their troops requires heavy investment.¡± Her tail thumped against the stones. ¡°I¡¯ve attempted to fly over the land, but the forest obscurs most of Batavii, and the air above the one clearing I found near its center, where the capitol and the Stitcher should be, was barred.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I gave her a concerned look. ¡°What stopped you?¡±


    ¡°The Sea Mother.¡± She nearly spat venom saying the name. ¡°It wasn¡¯t an impassable barrier, like that erected by the Paedens in Aenea, but a viscosity to the air that made it unflyable. No sign of her storms yet, and her aura has yet to spread. But she¡¯s there.¡± Sneering, she glared north, the same direction the Sleepless had retreated.


    I frowned. ¡°As worrisome as her presence is, I¡¯m more concerned about the ¡®why.¡¯ What could have brought her here? It¡¯s highly unlikely she knows about the Staff, and even more unlikely she¡¯d have a use for it.¡±


    ¡°The Stitcher is a god, albeit without a pantheon. She could be after him.¡±


    ¡°That is a¡­distressing thought.¡± I shifted my weight to my other foot.


    Malia shrugged. ¡°I suspect, but nothing¡¯s confirmed. She did try to recruit you, though, and she¡¯s stuck without a proxy.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of, where, exactly, did Lazuli disappear?¡± I got a sinking feeling in my gut at Malia¡¯s sheepish avoidance of my eyes. ¡°You¡¯re going to say somewhere around that aerial barrier, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Under the canopy of the Bataviian forest, but yes.¡± Her snakes wriggled as she rubbed her shoulder. ¡°And yes, shortly after, Tamiyat¡¯s presence felt heavier. But nothing like if she had escaped the astral plane.¡±


    ¡°What of the local gods?¡± The Stitcher had displaced somebody, but I¡¯d never gotten the details on who, and the last I¡¯d heard Curnerein had dwindled to a land with spirits barely cresting demigod-like powers.


    ¡°Balphar was the chief deity of the region, until the Stitcher slew him with the Staff.¡± Wings twitching, Malia swayed in place as she scanned the horizon. ¡°That was what originally caught my attention, rumors of a weapon that could kill gods. But it turned out that the Bataviians'' faith was weak enough to allow for their god to be shorn from them, so I¡¯m less certain that it¡¯s a property of the Staff itself. Balphar had two sons, Oophan and Vythar, and a nameless daughter, whom I¡¯ve found no traces of. When the Stitcher killed Balphar, it corrupted the myths surrounding Frijorro, his wife, who dissolved into the Weeping Queen from her grief. And then her mind fully shattered when Oophan failed to avenge his father and was likewise slain.¡± She shook her head. ¡°That death cemented faith in the Stitcher as a proper deity, especially since Oophan had barely a cult to his name. I¡¯ve tried to contact the Weeping Queen, but she has sequestered herself deep in Sivarii. The mortals claim the swamps sprang from her tears, but I know for a fact that the bogs predate her fall.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°What of the other son, Vythar?¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t been able to communicate with him either.¡± Frowning, she pointed west. ¡°He¡¯s settled in Elthii, which borders Batavii, but it¡¯s also across the Fyrisard. While I can fly across with ease, the Frischiians refuse to cross the river as long as the Stitcher and Sleepless remain. And his mortals cower and flee when I approach, so I haven¡¯t been able to request an audience. After the third attempt, I gave up because the soulless have yet to turn their attention west, and I didn¡¯t want to draw the Stitcher against them.¡±


    ¡°And the Ghorin tree-walkers?¡±


    ¡°East, in the Sivarii swamps.¡± She gave me an annoyed look. ¡°I know they¡¯re in there, but they slink away whenever they sense me coming. And I got annoyed with the beasts of the bogs, so I focused on shoring up the Frischiian defenses.¡±


    A pulse sounded from the east, presumably originating from Sivarii. I glanced at Malia, but she didn¡¯t seem to notice. ¡°What creatures?¡±


    ¡°Long-necked, scaled leopards that strike from the trees.¡± Her tail flicked. ¡°Other nuisances, like the bat-winged frogs and the crocodile chimeras hiding beneath the water. But it¡¯s the haze of sorcery surrounding them all that allows them to be a divine nuisance. I fear the Weeping Queen is leaking her magic all throughout the marshlands.¡±


    I slipped my arms around her waist and pulled her close. ¡°So, as chaotic as any ungoverned land.¡±


    ¡°Yes. But it¡¯s refusing to take any shaping from me.¡± She scowled but leaned into the hug, then pulled back a little. ¡°It¡¯s too humid. I suppose that does cover the state of affairs in Curnerein, though.¡±


    ¡°Anything to the south worth mentioning?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°No more than a handful of villages, much like this one but less heavily fortified, scattered through Frischii. Half as many marshlands as fields, and the land is firmer than Sivarii as well. I gleaned what troops I could from their stock before coming here.¡±


    Another pulse bumped against me.


    ¡°Did you feel that?¡± I whispered.


    ¡°Feel what?¡± She looked up at me, confused.


    ¡°There¡¯s been two emanations now, both coming from the swamps.¡± A third hit me as I was talking. ¡°Make that three.¡±


    Gently, she pulled away and glanced between me and the east. ¡°I sense nothing, although I felt the ghost of your perception through our bond.¡±


    I summoned my Sword. ¡°Do you recognize it?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°The Weeping Queen has an ashy feel to her aura, and it fades the further away from Sivarii you go. I don¡¯t know what that could be.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll check it out.¡± I hopped off the wall, Malia right behind me. When she reached the ground, I caught her arm. ¡°By myself. For whatever reason, it¡¯s not affecting you, so you won¡¯t be able to track it. And someone needs to guard Hasda.¡±


    ¡°Thrax has been¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not questioning his ability.¡± Another pulse slapped my back, almost insistent this time. ¡°But Lazuli is loose, and I doubt Kydon will abandon his search to shield Hasda, no matter that the Trial hasn¡¯t yet begun.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± She hissed and snapped her tail, her Warbow settling into her hands. ¡°But if she shows herself, it¡¯ll be the last time she does.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll do fine.¡± I kissed the top of her head then set off after the source of the pulses as yet another hit my chest.


    Villagers and guards bowed as I jogged out of Kirunadh. The soldiers in the fields, ringing Hasda and Thrax, practiced with swords and spears coated in flaming oil. Overhead, wispy clouds did little to reduce the heat of the afternoon sun. And mud returned to the springy soil as I made my way further from the village.


    The nearer I got to the swamplands, the muggier the air became. By the time I saw the first trees of Sivarii, the air was so thick with humidity that it felt like I was breathing underwater. Black water poorly reflected the sunlight, the pond scum patchy and disrupted by fins of aquatic beasts I didn¡¯t recognize. While the shadows from the overhanging trees and the murky marsh water made it hard to see the beasts clearly, I was fairly certain they were crocodilian. Their heads were, at least.


    A final pulse.


    The world changed as I stepped beneath the canopy of the swampland, as if the sun had been snuffed out. Blacks, grays, and pasty blues painted the world in nocturnal hues. The humidity fled with a gasp, leaving the air to crackle in its absence. And the lighted land behind me was gone, as if I¡¯d stepped through a portal into a maas. But it felt like a crypt, more than a land for the living.


    I sighed. Well, only one way forward, then.

 Chapter 112: The Weeper

    From the depths of this barren, beryl realm fluttered a faint pulse. The energy felt colder, matching the lifeless atmosphere around me. Soft light, diffused by the dark trees and milky water, dulled the land. Not quite white, not quite blue, the ambient glow surrounded all and had no discernable source. As present was the light, so absent was life. No ghosts, no apparitions of the creatures Malia had described, not even ripples of uncertain origin marred the surface of the pallid swamps around me.


    Another pulse, sharper but with less force, pinged my ribs. Something in the transition had thinned me, because I felt almost gaunt again. Not skeletal, because I still had my skin and muscle, but I¡¯d lost some of the padding I¡¯d developed. Grunting at the mud sucking my feet, I trudged towards the source of the pulses.


    The closer I got, the thinner the trees grew. Concerningly, the water also grew murkier, flakes of ash filmed the water. The particles clung to my shins and, when I tripped, my hands and wrists. By the time I reached the glowing throne of bone, all of my limbs were gray from the filth.


    I had no time to wonder at the white-haired woman draped across it and weeping hard. Behind me, water sloshed as beings moved in my wake. A pair of twiggy figures, one with a gnarled staff, approached, trailing vines that connected them to the nearest trees. A wooden spear grew in the hands of the staffless one. Leaves fluttered across its face, forming a scowl. Its companion brushed a hand covered in budding flowers against its shoulder.


    ¡°Peace, Grugwyn,¡± the staff-bearer said, his voice hoarse with age. ¡°He answers my call.¡±


    The woman¡¯s sobs answered the coilna¡¯s frown. And they were coilna, the Ghorin elementalists who walked the trees. Their spirits could flow like water through the wood, flitting from branch to branch like ephemeral squirrels. These humanoid forms, their geas, were how they interacted with the outside world, although their elven kin required no such avatars. What they were doing here, in this proto-underworld, I didn¡¯t know, but the elder seemed ready to share.


    ¡°We seek the staff that Grimshaw¡ªthe one your mate calls the Stitcher¡ªhas fashioned.¡± Ynyr, the older coilna, rubbed his own. ¡°It is not our heirloom, but it is as a tainted cousin.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s not yours, why are you here?¡± I gestured towards the wail-filled throne. ¡°For her?¡±


    Leaning heavily on his staff, Ynyr sighed. ¡°Her state is our responsibility. Grimshaw was of the Ghorin, before he sought to make a name for himself. Failing to do so among his brethren, he fled reprimand to establish his own dynasty.¡± He shook his head. ¡°We did not think he would go to such measures, and that was a dire misstep.¡±


    ¡°A Staff of Power should be used for growth, not destruction,¡± Grugwyn growled, his leaves rustling in unseen wind. ¡°There was naught but one before, and its cultivation was a thing of beauty. But to twist one so, killing even gods¡­¡±


    ¡°Has he ascended?¡± I shivered at a piercing cry from the distraught woman.


    Ynyr shook his head. ¡°We are unsure. Our gaze has been elsewhere.¡± He looked past me with a pained look. ¡°She will not hear us, nor heed our healing. Your mate she hid from but, perhaps, she will listen to you.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°I can try.¡±


    Ynyr grabbed my sleeve as I turned. ¡°One thing. Don¡¯t drink the water.¡±


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t planning on it?¡± I gave him a confused look.


    ¡°She may not offer, but even so.¡± The coilna thumped his staff, which emitted a pulse much like the ones I¡¯d felt before.


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± I frowned and thumped away. Behind me, the coilna rewound into the trees, receding up their vines. The mud underfoot firmed as I approached the throne, the ash thickening the water. Past a certain point, the surface of the water went completely still. Not even my thrusting steps rippled the film, the rings clinging to my calves.


    Ash made it hard to tell where the woman¡¯s dress ended. Draped as she was across the seat, facing away from me, the train of her dress flowed into the water well below its surface. Capillary action had stained it, both with wetness and with ash. I wasn¡¯t sure what its original color had been, but the ambient light and cloying ash gave it a glowing, glaucous hue. Sound faded around us, save for her sobs.


    When I was a stone¡¯s throw from the throne, she jerked and sat up. Tears had furrowed tracks through the grime on her face, her eyes shriveled instead of puffy. Mourning had thinned her, but not so much as to make her sickly. And yet, she had retained a level of beauty and grace. The way her bones protruded from her arms spoke of weakness, but her eyes held resilient strength and a hint of madness.


    ¡°What news have you, death walker?¡± she rasped.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that was my question.¡± I shifted beneath those crazed eyes.


    Fresh tears streaked her face as she quaffed from a stained silver chalice. Where, or when, she¡¯d gotten the goblet I didn¡¯t know, but its contents inked a black smile at the corners of her mouth. Glass empty, she scooped a fresh drink from the water beneath her and clutched at the cup.


    ¡°Then they are truly lost.¡± She stared into the chalice, coughed a sob, and tipped the glass to her lips again.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m new to these parts.¡± Something about the way the drink stained her mouth left me unsettled. ¡°Who is lost?¡±


    ¡°You walk amongst death, yet you cannot see it?¡± Manic laughter slipped between her wails. ¡°I had hoped¡­you are so strong. Yet you cannot gather them to me again.¡±


    ¡°If I knew whom, perhaps I could.¡± Slowly, I circled around the throne, angling to get behind the seat. Her nails skittered across its back, and I was curious if there was an inscription she was mindlessly playing with in her grief. Her mind was certainly in no shape for answering questions, so I¡¯d glean what I could. ¡°Do you mean your children?¡±


    ¡°One has already come, though you cannot return him.¡± She sucked at her drink, tears mingling with the ashy water. ¡°One is known yet just as lost. One is lost yet might return. What one might fill this void?¡±


    ¡°Loss leaves a ragged hole that will fester and puss, if you don¡¯t tend to the wound.¡± I frowned as I saw the back of the throne. Only the gouges from her nails marked it, nothing remarkable about the material itself save its resemblance to bleached bone. But, in the curious light, it was hard to be sure. ¡°You risk being stripped by fate of your surviving family if you refuse to stir yourself for them. What of your son? Your daughter?¡±


    ¡°Eyes, yet he cannot see. Ears, yet he cannot hear.¡± Sniffling, she upended the chalice and finished her drink. Racked by silent sobs, she stretched and scooped another drink. ¡°My light has gone from me, my love poisoned. No scouring more toxic than that administered by once favored hands. The chains which bind me, hold me together. You bid me leave them, yet it is by their strength that I would lift them.¡± She tipped her glass to me. ¡°Would you understand? Shed the scales that blind you?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°You¡¯ll forgive me if I don¡¯t drink ashes where no fire has burned.¡±


    ¡°My family may not seem much to one such as you, but it is my greatest treasure.¡± Shivering, she withdrew the goblet and drank deeply.


    A suspicion I didn¡¯t like tingled above my elbows. I pushed against the astral plane, transitioning just enough to gaze upon the Weeping Queen¡¯s ghostly realm with transcendent eyes. The spectral swamplands trembled beneath my feet, the plane struggling to hold under the weight of that soft gaze, but it showed enough.


    Shards of divine aura, fainter than shadows at noon, floated on the surface of the swamp like flotsam. Two distinct entities, one younger, the other older, had been cremated and their¡­ashes scattered.


    And she was drinking them.


    When I detransitioned, I found her staring at me with a deathly pale face.


    ¡°Go,¡± she whispered. Ash-flecked water sloshed on her dress as she clutched her chalice close.


    ¡°Let me help you.¡± I took a step towards her, hand outstretched, and she cowered away from me. I sighed.


    The faith of her people had been so weak¡ªthe foundation of her pantheon little more than her family¡ªwhich left their pantheon susceptible to annihilation. And the Stitcher had obliterated them.


    If her surviving son planned to confront the Stitcher, he would likely meet a similar fate. Without a stronger cult or the support of an outside pantheon, he had practically no hope of reestablishing the beliefs that had preceded the Stitcher. I could help him, but I had to find him first. And maybe I could help put his mother back together in the process.

 Chapter 113: The Sivariians

    The Weeping Queen shrank away from me, sinking into a corner of the throne. Chalice held like a ward, she stared spears. ¡°Leave, before you destroy what little is left of my family.¡±


    Her sudden lucidity led me to question her previous mania. I held my hands up placatingly. ¡°You don¡¯t have to suffer alone.¡±


    ¡°Ah, but I¡¯m not.¡± A bit of her former lunacy glittered in her eyes. ¡°My husband will return to me in the only way he can.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± I looked at the scattered ashes around us, the divine essence so shattered that I couldn¡¯t feel it, even knowing it was there. ¡°But he¡¯s gone. Whatever destroyed him, he¡¯s not coming back.¡±


    ¡°Tell me.¡± Her knuckles were white on the stem. ¡°If we are the keepers of mortal souls, who tends to ours?¡±


    I frowned. ¡°We take care of ourselves.¡±


    Her smile was vicious. Eyes locked on mine, she bent over the arm of the throne and scooped another draught from the swamp. ¡°And so, I take care of my own. If you cannot return them to me, then why are you still here?¡±


    I grimaced as she flared her aura. From her scowl, she was going for intimidating, but the sheer imbalance between us just made her all the more pitiful. Even Hasda, without ambrosia, would have been able to contest her with ease.


    Sighing, I shook my head. ¡°If you change your mind, you can find me among the Frischiians. Our champion will avenge you, regardless.¡±


    She said nothing, merely sipped from her goblet and settled into the throne. Frowning, I turned and left. I couldn¡¯t force her to accept help, and in her current state of grief she seemed only to grasp reality insofar as it served to remind her of what she had lost, and how she thought she could recover it. Her mind was shrouded by a haze thicker than the ashes clouding the swamp.


    What was strange, though, was the lack of mortal ashes among the divine. If this was their underworld, then some of their followers should have been cremated and their ashes scattered among those of their gods. Even a proto-pantheon would have at least one soul in its spectral realm.


    Maybe the Sleepless, roaming the land of the living, were why no dead rested in the swamplands, but they resided in Batavii, and Sivarii lay beyond the Fyrisard. The Stitcher couldn¡¯t have cleaned out all of the Sivariian tribes without the Frischiians knowing about it. So where, then, were the mortal dead? I was missing something as, perhaps, this infant pantheon had been.


    The Weeping Queen wasn¡¯t their God of Death, although she¡¯d made this realm, in her sorrow, her abode. When she¡¯d sensed the nature of my Office, she¡¯d immediately latched onto that singular hope I provided. Perhaps they¡¯d had no shepherd of the afterlife, but then, who had torched the gods? The Stitcher¡¯s motif was squarely necromantic.


    Mysteries that maybe Malia had inklings of answers for, but I did not.


    When I reached the edge of the forest, the weeping returned. Grugwyn and Ynyr separated from their trees, glancing between me and the distant throne.


    ¡°What did you learn of her?¡± Ynyr asked, his staff piercing the film.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Not as much as I would¡¯ve liked, and what I did I didn¡¯t particularly like.¡± Though the ambiance behind me dimmed slightly, the wailing maintained its volume. ¡°She hoped I could resurrect the fallen gods. When she saw that I couldn¡¯t, she withdrew. This realm is also fragile, as I discovered when I found out why you said not to drink the water.¡±


    Leaves crinkling, Ynyr hummed. ¡°It is more than we have gleaned.¡±


    ¡°What roles did her pantheon fill?¡± I shrugged at their confused looks. ¡°A family of five, with the head gone and the children scattered, and none of them handled the dead?¡±


    Grugwyn hooted, fluttering the leaves ringing his mouth. ¡°The Sivarii have no fear of death. Their dead are given to the swamps, their rituals as primordial as they are primitive.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps observing them would give you better insight.¡± Ynyr stirred the waters with his staff, clearing away the ashes.


    The ground beneath us thinned, and while Ynyr and Grugwyn exited with grace, I fell through as the membrane collapsed beneath me. Pond scum plastered my robes and splattered my face as I took a hard seat in warm marsh water. A spiny, frilled mammal slipped away beneath the surface, a withered hand waving from its trailing tail.


    Grugwyn projected next to me, his avatar droopy from the weeping willows he pulled his leaves from. ¡°A good omen, that.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± I climbed to my feet and tried my best to wipe the sludge from my hands and legs.


    ¡°A huzivann, very rare,¡± he said as Ynyr joined us. ¡°The Sivariians view them favorably. When they release their dead to the waters, if a huzivann appears, they believe that the creature will guide the body to an honorable resting place.¡±


    ¡°The unflattering truth is that the huzivann are scavengers, and the corpse is sequestered in its den.¡± Ynyr looked in the direction Grugwyn had pointed. The dark-furred creature was long gone. Stirring the water with his staff, Ynyr set out after it. ¡°If you feel eyes on you, watch the trees. God though you are, the oglelovs are greedy creatures and might test their mettle against you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye out for them.¡± Most of the trees around us were willows with roots like mangroves, and neither branch nor root held enough cover to hide the serpentine leopards. Nevertheless, I kept an eye on the canopy as we made our way to the Sivariian village.


    As we trekked, however, the only thing that assaulted us was the humidity. The muggy air was suffocating, and even the coilna wilted in the heat. Their anchoring vines snapped sluggishly from trunk to trunk, lagging further and further behind with every transition. Legless toads with leathery wings and a slender, sting-tipped tail flapped from the trees, occasionally diving behind us and struggling beneath the water with smaller prey. Ynyr named them as dawlyrs, and said their venom caused swelling and discomfort but was non-lethal to larger creatures. They were also a delicacy for elderly Sivariians, although the next generation preferred a serpent that lived in rotwood and wore slimy skin, like a worm, rather than the scales of its brethren.


    It wasn¡¯t long before we came upon the people themselves. Long, unkempt hair hung from most heads, necklaces with dangling dried animal bits bouncing against brown-scaled leathers that likely came from the rumored oglelovs. A few of the men held long-stemmed pipes in their mouths, puffing hazy yellow smoke. Children in mud-stained smocks chased each other and furry, six-legged critters, around thatch roofed pavilions, gathering places that doubled as dwellings. Laid back villagers sat in rough, wooden rockers, lazily watching our approach.


    Their general disarray seemed an almost aesthetic decision. The pavilions were deceptively organized, aisles straight enough to see down testifying to the planning that went behind the settlement¡¯s construction. But the air of indifference that hung over the Sivariians was hard to differentiate from apathy.


    I turned to ask Ynyr about this, whether the Sivariians had always been so casual or whether the loss of their gods had stunned them to stupor, and found both coilna gone. Leaves rustled in the distance behind me, but on every tree, no specific two, making it hard to tell which way the elven druids had gone. They were no Carthian people, so they showed no disrespect by their sudden departure, but it still struck me as odd. Why struggle all the way here, only to leave the moment we arrived?


    No elders rose from their chairs to greet me as I stepped from the water proper to the spongy ground of the village. The children ran past¡ªor into¡ªme with no regard for my presence. Eyes tracked my progress, but they didn¡¯t seem to register what they saw. It was as if the whole village were dreaming, yet awake. It wasn¡¯t until I came across a group of hunters seated around a pavilion table, drinking themselves into a stupor, that I found a potential source for the lethargy.


    Dark liquid sloshed in oaken tankards, eerily reminiscent of the Weeping Queen¡¯s ashen draught. No flakes flecked the drinks, however, and the shade of death was absent as well. No, this wine came from a sable berry I didn¡¯t recognize, a dimpled fruit that resembled a cranberry crossed with a blackberry. Thumb-sized, a crushed handful refilled an empty tankard, the drained flesh dumped into a bronze libation bowl. But no effigy was carved in the pavilion lintel, no icon on the mantel above the hearth. So who, then, was the offering saved for?


    As the men painted false mustaches on their lips, their eyes dulled. Laughter became blunted, subsided to rumbles that would have been growls from soberer men. By the time they¡¯d drained their mugs a second or third time, they were all of them subdued, drinking mechanically.


    Something was very wrong with this place. I sensed no sorcery, felt no gods lurking in the shadows, and yet I knew someone had to be behind this. The stupor of this place went beyond human depression. Total oblivion had settled here, and I was going to find out who¡¯d sent it.

 Chapter 114: The Offering

    The men toasted my departure, the rowdiest action any group had demonstrated thus far. As I continued scouting the village, I found some so stupefied that they didn¡¯t even mark my passage. Most at least watched me walk by, but a few bore faces so stained by the numbing berry brew that they were practically bearded. Near the center of the village, however, I found the strangest of all.


    Furniture surrounded an empty pavilion in haphazard piles. The hearth lay empty and partially deconstructed, several of its stones amidst the piles of chairs, tables, and trunks outside. In the middle stood a half-naked man, eating crushed berries by the fingerful from a bronze libation bowl. Stringy hair was a tangled mess on his head, twigs and mice bones twisted amongst the strands. Sucking blackened fingers, he watched me with sharp, gray eyes.


    There was something¡­unnerving about the intensity of his stare. It took me until I reached the tumbled furnishings to realize that he simply wasn¡¯t blinking. From the moment we locked eyes, and likely before then as well, his eyelids hadn¡¯t shuttered even a fraction. Wide-eyed, unending stare, almost like a snake. I made it through the ring of chattels but paused at the threshold of the pavilion.


    The man tilted his head sideways when he saw me, black juice dribbling from the corner of his mouth. ¡°Hello.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s sacrifice is that?¡± I gestured at the bowl.


    The man shrugged and stuffed another mouthful in, sucking at his fingers. ¡°Not yours. Not yours. Not yours.¡±


    ¡°So I gathered.¡± My skin prickled as I leaned across the threshold. Frowning, I pulled back. The man was clearly mortal, so it wasn¡¯t his power at work, but something was. ¡°Are you waiting for someone to claim it? Or claim you?¡±


    He giggled, slurping up more pulp. ¡°Cannot claim what has been claimed, can you? You can, but I cannot. Can I?¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± I scowled at his chittering laugh. ¡°Why is it that the only villager who will talk is the only one with no sense?¡±


    He proffered me the libation bowl. ¡°Bjurberry?¡±


    ¡°Is that what it¡¯s called?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Where do they come from? None of the trees I¡¯ve seen in the swamps produce fruit like these. Or fruit of any kind, for that matter.¡±


    He frowned at the bowl, which he¡¯d almost emptied. ¡°They grow here. Here, see?¡±


    When he finished off the last of the bjurberries in the bowl, the pavilion flashed. A pulse, not unlike the one Ynyr had created, burst from the hearth and washed over our surroundings. The wooden pavilion transformed into a rough temple of red wood, dark earth covering its floor beneath a haze of sooty incense.


    Behind me, the ring of discarded furniture crumbled into piles of coppery weapons in awful disrepair. Green patina coated dented swords, warped spears, and dull arrowheads. Punctured helmets lay amidst perforated kite shields of ancient leather. Thankfully, I didn¡¯t see any bones among the armor, but the scattered piles radiated death nonetheless.


    In the wake of the pulse, the humidity fled. Strange blue light glowed above the trees, which had lost their leaves and stood like skeletal sentinels in the swamp, a purple glow undulating in the waters beneath their roots. But, no, the branches weren¡¯t bare. Clusters of dimpled bjurberreis hung from the branches, along with bleached rodent and bird skulls.


    And walking towards us from the depths of the marsh was a copper-haired witch who didn¡¯t belong.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡°You have found our priest,¡± the Serynis Sister said as she approached.


    ¡°Him? He¡¯s not exactly all there, so I don¡¯t see how he could fulfill his duties.¡± I stepped to the side, careful not to stab myself on the rusty weapons. ¡°And you¡¯re an Ibithian entity. What are you doing in Sivarii?¡±


    ¡°Born of, but not belonging to.¡± Dark veins, jagged like lightning, wreathed her pale green forearms. Thick, juniper green leaves made up her new dress, and shinguards of shaggy bark wrapped her legs. What aura she had was pitiful, barely a fraction of when she¡¯d ascended, and there was no sign of her sister. Her yellow eyes flashed as she reached the edge of the ring. ¡°We were nothing but a transient horror to the Ibithians. No love to be had, no gifts to be given, driven away by those who should have feared us.¡±


    ¡°They drove you away?¡± I shook my head. ¡°The Ibithians might be reclusive, but they¡¯re very devoted.¡±


    ¡°Devoted to the hydra, but not to us.¡± She bared her teeth, which were all sharpened fangs. ¡°Here, we find appreciation, terror, worship.¡±


    I frowned. It wasn¡¯t impossible for deities to migrate from their place of conception and establish themselves elsewhere. Malia had mentioned that the Stitcher was fostering worship of the swamp horrors, which would lay a foundation for the Serynis to set herself¡ªthemself?¡ªup on. But the Weeping Queen still held the lands, and a confused and floundering pantheon made for a poor new home.


    Keeping her distance, she picked her way through the degraded weapons and accepted the empty bowl from her priest. With a flourish, she refilled the bowl and pressed two fingers to his forehead. He smiled as he faded from this strange place, taking the bjurberries with him.


    I watched as she entered the primitive temple unopposed. When I reached the threshold, I swept my hand past it carefully and found the same minor resistance as before. This time, however, the warding betrayed its source.


    The Serynis glowered at me. ¡°There is no need to flaunt your superior strength. We saw plenty before our rebirth.¡±


    ¡°Where is your sister?¡± Subtle currents played around my fingers, which still trailed in the ward up to the top knuckle.


    ¡°We are as we were.¡± Her golden eyes glared at my fingers, still embedded in her ward. ¡°Please withdraw yourself.¡±


    Pulling my hand away, I met her glare with a smile. ¡°What¡¯s your pantheon, then? This land is inhabited, and though the Weeping Queen is racked with grief, I¡¯ve yet to see her withdraw her claim to the region. So have you pledged your allegiance to her?¡±


    ¡°It was not her, but her husband, that we sought sanctuary from. A new patron has taken us beneath his wing, but he demands¡ª¡±  Black vines bled from her veins, coalescing into a thick spike she grasped in both hands. She brandished it like a weapon, staring me down and trying her best to be intimidating. ¡°What he demands is of no concern of yours. Why are you here? Have you come to slay the survivors? Mock us in our homelessness?¡±


    ¡°You youngsters are always so full of yourselves.¡± I snorted as she pointed the spike at me. ¡°I didn¡¯t come to ¡®finish you off,¡¯ I didn¡¯t even know you were here. If you really want to continue where we left off, we could, but unless you make yourself an enemy of Carthage I¡¯ve no need to fight you now.¡±


    ¡°Strange, given how eagerly you slew our coven.¡± Her eyes flashed.


    ¡°You were trying to steal my son.¡± I pushed the point away from me with a finger. ¡°Why do you think I didn¡¯t chase you? The threat was gone.¡±


    Her brow furrowed. ¡°That mortal? But he was no get of yours. Not even a passing resemblance.¡±


    ¡°He has my blessing, and I have raised him as my own.¡±


    At first I thought her shock was about my revelation, but then I heard thrashing in the water behind me.


    The Serynis¡¯ black-haired sister breached the water, brandishing a mottled, coppery sword. Surrounded by orange will-o¡¯-wisps, the merrow snarled and slashed at the ghostly lights. A breathy moan filled the air, floating beneath the witch¡¯s enraged cries.


    Although the witch was still as pale as a corpse, she had developed more fish-like features since our last encounter. Webbed fingers struggled with the slippery hilt of her sword, gills fluttered on her neck, and eyes a uniform cloudy black made it hard to tell where she was looking. From the way she staggered, she still had her legs, although she¡¯d grown a spined tail that helped her balance.


    There was something strange about the orange balls dodging the merrow¡¯s swipes. They taunted more than enticed, vibrating with every wordless whisper they uttered. Rather than trying to lead the piscine sister deeper into the swamp, they bobbed and weaved around her head, flitting up out of reach, never dipping into the water.


    The Serynis behind me growled, shivering with rage as she watched the will-o¡¯-wisps provoke her sister. ¡°Not again.¡±


    ¡°What are those?¡± As I watched, the spheres expanded, mellowing from orange to yellow as they grew.


    She pushed past me with a snarl. ¡°Leave.¡±


    The merrow sister slashed a light in half, scattering its pieces like a blown dandelion puff. Sparkling, the particles swirled back together and skittered away whole. A new ball replaced the old, taunting from a slightly further distance. As the merrow¡¯s rage grew, her bond with her sister became visible, a glowing, murky green thread connecting their chests.


    In response, the spheres also brightened, turning a light yellow. Peach-tinted aura clashed with the mossy energy radiating from the Serynis. I¡¯d never seen any deity take the form of a will-o¡¯-wisp, but they must¡¯ve been from the way they were able to resist the Serynis¡¯ power, pitiful though it was. They pushed against each other like toddlers fighting over the same toy.


    The image dissolved, leaving me standing in the ring of scattered furniture once more.

 Chapter 115: The Priest

    With the pavilion behind me bare, no sign of the Serynis¡¯ priest anywhere, I left the village and crossed the swamps, making my way back to Kirunadh. Neither the coilna nor the Sivariians showed themselves during my egress, which was strange because I was definitely back in the mortal plane. The croaking, clicking, crying swamp animals spoke to that.


    As I¡¯d entered Sivarii through the primitive underworld, I hadn¡¯t felt the wet heat, and the lethargy of the people had distracted me from it while I was in their village. With nothing vying for my attention on my return journey, I was left with a heavy reminder by the way my robes sagged against me and the sweat sheathed my skin. Before long, I was wiping beads off my brow to keep from being blinded.


    Shadows fell across the amber scum. Something moved in my blind spot, rustling leaves forewarning me. I spun and came face to face with an oglelov¡¯s feline frown. Light green eyes stared at me from a face covered in sunset orange scales instead of fur. Its neck, covered in the same plates, extended several arms¡¯ length from the tree overhead, where its scaly, four-legged body had rooted itself to a branch with knifelike claws.


    When it realized its ambush had failed, it flattened its ears and hissed. Its neck bunched in alternating bends as it withdrew, fangs bared. I grunted at its angry yowls and continued on. With how aggressive they were reputed to be, I was surprised that only the one tried an attack before I made it out of the swamp. I saw at least two others, but they hissed and withdrew into the foliage when they saw me.


    A sudden chill hit me as the third oglelov retreated. The smell of sea water crept beneath the humidity, trailed by a soft growl of thunder. Then it passed, leaving the full stench of the bog behind. I looked around sharply, but the only movement was the oglelov moving behind the leaves. It was strange, that surprise scent of the Great Sea. I didn¡¯t like how it brought Tamiyat to mind, despite the fact that I couldn¡¯t feel even a hint of her presence.


    Worse was the tug on my bond that followed. Malia had engaged some enemy, which meant the threat was large enough to justify revealing herself. I lengthened my strides, speeding through the swamp.


    As I broke the treeline, I found Kirunadh nearly overrun by the Sleepless. The Stitcher had fielded so many that the piked trenches had been bridged by impaled corpses, their undead fellows swarming the walls. And while the last troop had been little better than civilians, this legion was kitted for war. Crude clubs and spears met their more sophisticated counterparts, brandished and bashed against the defenders no matter how many times the wood was cleaved. While the Frischiians wore armor, the Sleepless marched naked, covered head to toe in caked mud save for their necks, which were wrapped in ribbed leather gorgets.


    The strangest thing was the way these undead ignored the torches and flaming arrows bombarding them. It wasn¡¯t that the clay plastered to their skin dampened the fire enough for them to trust its fireproofing, but rather that they simply didn¡¯t react at all. They charged as if blind, and as I neared their flanks I realized that it wasn¡¯t simply a metaphor¡ªthe Sleepless attacking the city stared with empty sockets. Some had had their eyes gouged out, others bore signs of cauterization, but one and all had been stripped of their sight.


    Shrieks filled the air, piercing the undead moans and cries of the living. Above the village, Malia seared the sky with her gaze as she chased a kite-winged harpy.


    Well, at least she¡¯d found Lazuli.


    The avian darted through clouds and around Malia with grace and speed beyond her station. Twisting and diving, she narrowly avoided Malia¡¯s grasp time and again, although my gorgon was closing the gap with each pass. Lazuli wasn¡¯t radiating the Sea Mother¡¯s borrowed aura, although glimpses of it flashed in nauseating waves as she avoided Malia.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Below, Thrax and Hasda fought in loose coordination near the bridge, which had been raised to seal the village. The djinn¡¯s purple fire cloaked Hasda and flickered along his sword, arcs trailing as Hasda carved his way through the Sleepless horde. Thrax was a whirlwind butcher behind him, his celestial steel axe pulverizing the undead. His blows followed inhuman paths, continuing through swings where most would pull up as their joints found their limits. But Thrax¡¯s arms bent unnaturally behind and around him, and every sweep of them left crude dismemberment in their wake.


    Most bizarre of all was that Kydon was likewise engaged in battle, and the form of the reanimated he fought. Up to now, both in Malia¡¯s reports and my own observation, the Sleepless had all been human. The amalgamations contesting Kydon¡¯s pike, however, bore witness to what had become of the Bataviian livestock. Sinew bound multiple arms and legs together to form compound limbs, terminating in cloven hooves where hands had failed. Mixed among the human heads were scraggly goats, long-horned bulls, and slobbering pigs. Each monstrosity reached at least the height of our half-troll arbiter, most standing head and shoulders above. And they outnumbered him six-to-one.


    Despite being outnumbered, the gnarled arbiter held his own against the mishmashed undead. A quick twist dislodged all but the six-limbed behemoth tangled on the head of his pike. Beating it against the ground, he knocked it half unconscious before swinging it into its compatriots. Two of the beasts charged, hitting the pike at different lengths and splintering it. With a roar, Kydon laid into the brutes with the remaining half of the shaft.


    I only realized I¡¯d drawn my Sword when I heard the wet sounds of corpses squishing underfoot. I¡¯d carved a straight path through their flank, angling for Hasda and Thrax. The noise from the fallen Sleepless drew the attention of those immediately around me, and they tried to form a press to stop me. If they had consciousness, I left them little time to contemplate how pathetic their attempt to stop me had been.


    And they really were soulless things. I''d made it so far without realizing because the demise of dozens freed not a sliver of spirit. Each collapse held no more weight than that of a felled tree. Though they had the form and function of former humans, now they were simply...things. It was almost too easy to part them with the edge of my blade. Simple sweeps cleared a path, and before long I¡¯d reached Hasda and Thrax.


    While they were holding their own quite well, they couldn¡¯t keep the horde from going around them and across the makeshift bridge formed from the fallen Sleepless in the moat. Defenders atop the wall fought on both sides of the breach, but they were being steadily driven back through sheer numbers. I slammed into the river of bodies, stemming the excess flow.


    ¡°Thanks, Dad.¡± Hasda¡¯s eyes were filmed with the same fire that limned his sword, although he was himself beneath that flame. His sword darted, piercing caked mud and splitting the undead.


    ¡°How many are inside?¡± I carved an arc behind us, giving Hasda and Thrax space to fight on surer footing.


    Thrax bludgeoned a body back into the throng. ¡°Not many. But enough to cause problems.¡±


    ¡°And the troops?¡±


    ¡°I have squadrons keeping the rear wall safe from more body bridges. Most of the rest are defending from inside the city.¡± Hasda swiped at a Sleepless. ¡°Why are you fighting? I thought the Sleepless were my responsibility.¡±


    I cleared another swathe in front of us. ¡°Kydon engaged them, which means we''re free to get involved as well. And your Trial, which Kydon hasn¡¯t officially begun yet,  is between you and the Stitcher.¡±


    Thunder trailed Lazuli and Malia as they shot past us. The Sleepless recoiled at the noise, the nearest collapsing as Hasda and Thrax took the opportunity to put them in the dirt. A touch of the djinn¡¯s fire turned the deanimated corpses to ash.


    While Hasda¡¯s sword sang, the alloyed metal vibrating as its diluted celestial steel sought to make its voice heard, Thrax¡¯s axe gave muffled grunts, its divine metal bestial. Already I could feel the change in Hasda¡¯s elevation, his spirit scraping fingertips against demigodhood, but Thrax was a roar of pure mortality. The man was refined human will wielding a deific, feral weapon.


    My sidetracked observation was cut short by a concussive blast coming from Kydon¡¯s direction. One of the bloated brutes had collapsed, its limbs splintering and flying in all directions as its agglomerated body exploded. Kydon stood in the wreck of its ribs, his pike driven into the ground. Around him, the other composite undead wavered, then retreated with unsettling wails.


    Hearing the sound, the Sleepless around us fell back as well, abandoning the ones that had already scaled the wall. An uncanny silence settled on the retreating undead, their soundless movement punctuated by the bellowing moans of the behemoths. Hasda and Thrax set about clearing the stragglers, while the defenders cleared the battlements, shoving corpses and struggling Sleepless off the wall into the moat.

 Chapter 116: The Amalgam

    Lightning wreathed Lazuli as she chased the fleeing Sleepless. The kite harpy outsped Malia, her wings shrieking from the air and exertion. Outpaced, Malia summoned her Warbow and fired a parting shot at Lazuli.


    It missed.


    In a flash, the harpy darted away and disappeared in the distance.


    Malia¡¯s dissatisfied snarl shook the ground. The air warbled as she vented her frustration by scything the routed undead with her gaze. No longer protected by their aerial goddess, the Sleepless quickly succumbed to my gorgon¡¯s wrath, disintegrating and leaving their final resting place toxic and discolored. Malia glared at the spot where Lazuli had disappeared, but stopped when I tapped our bond.


    ¡°We need to secure Kirunadh and regroup before we pursue.¡± The frustration pulsing through our bond was more than just hers. Going after Lazuli was tempting, but also foolish. Though her retreat looked genuine, especially given how poorly she fared against Malia, there was always the chance that it was a feint to draw us away from the village.


    Malia dipped towards me, then snarled and arced over the wall, showering arrows upon the Sleepless still inside. Thrax and Hasda went inside as well, cutting down the few undead cloying at the gates. I made to follow, but Kydon waved me over.


    The hulking corpse of the strange, reanimated monstrosity lay at his feet. Wisps of smoke curled from its shattered chest, mismatched ribs protruding from the opening like grasping fingers. This particular beast had had three heads, one goat and two cows, although as I drew closer I saw the score of rat heads that clung where its neck should have been. Hooves, both cloven and not, terminated the ends of its woven-legged limbs, and a stubby tail bent at an odd angle from beneath its fallen form. Worse than the smell of decay was the stench of burnt hair and flesh that belched from its death wound.


    Kydon glowered at the corpse as he poked it with his pike. ¡°Have you seen anything like this before?¡±


    Shrieks erupted behind us and were abruptly cut off. Malia¡¯s roar filled the air, and the sounds of conflict died out.


    I shook off the frissons and nudged the corpse. ¡°Never. Malia¡¯s reports didn¡¯t mention anything like this, either. As far as I know, the Stitcher has stuck to human remains thus far.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I was afraid of.¡± He poked at the rotting, pulsing flesh with his pike. ¡°The Stitcher is advancing, if he¡¯s piecing together amalgams of other creatures.¡±


    ¡°If he¡¯s testing his limits, he can¡¯t have made that many.¡± I watched as he pulled the chest open, strands of muscle snapping like dry rotted ropes. ¡°I¡¯m surprised he didn¡¯t start with the Sleepless, though.¡±


    ¡°Something in the sorcery, perhaps?¡± With his head halfway in the thing, his voice bounced around the cavity in a wet, uncomfortable way.


    I frowned. ¡°Unlikely. Dead flesh is dead flesh, and the Sleepless are soulless. So there¡¯s no spirit bound to the frame that would protest at something inhuman joined to its frame.¡±


    Brown blood spurted across Kydon¡¯s face as he cracked the ribcage fully open. ¡°He¡¯s directly controlling them, then?¡±


    ¡°That, or he¡¯s bound primitive instructions to them.¡± I moved around the heads, scanning the necks for signs of glyphs or wardings. ¡°Long-distance orchestration of such a large force would be incredibly taxing, mentally and magically. Preset orders cast into the corpse as they¡¯re raised would allow for greater utility without much exertion, but it makes them more disposable.¡±


    ¡°How much complexity can be bound in the instructions?¡± Rat heads popped like grapes as Kydon worked to remove the goat head. ¡°So far, they¡¯ve only attacked and retreated.¡±


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never tried necromancy myself, but from what I know of it, the directions could be fairly sophisticated.¡± I stepped back as he dropped the severed head. ¡°But the more detailed the commands, the longer it would take to bind them. Simple instructions are quicker and easier to produce en masse.¡±


    The half troll extracted the neck vertebrae and cleaned them of the decaying flesh. With most of it removed, he turned the bones towards me. ¡°I can¡¯t sense how he enchanted this thing. Do you see anything I missed?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°If it¡¯s in the muscles, it likely burned away when you felled it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a shame.¡± Kydon pried open a bovine eye and stared at it as if it held answers. ¡°The Sleepless are the same?¡±


    I paused. When I¡¯d cut through the undead, I hadn¡¯t felt the bodies release any trapped spirits. Hasda and Thrax had dropped empty husks as well.


    When I told him as much, Kydon sighed and straightened, flicking blood off his hands. ¡°This is the largest swarm the Stitcher has fielded, yes?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Of course, he could¡ªand should¡ªbe holding his largest force in reserve. We¡¯ve yet to find out how many bodies the Stitcher has left.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll find out soon enough. Hasda should try fording the river tomorrow¡­¡± He trailed off and stared past my shoulder.


    A pair of figures emerged from the eastern treeline. The Sleepless had fled to the north, so it wasn¡¯t Lazuli or any of hers, and none of the villagers had come out following the attack. Considering her strange garb and feathered companion, it wasn¡¯t hard to guess that this stripling of a girl wasn¡¯t one of ours. Her drab green cloak was filthy from dirt and ash, her dark clothes and sun-kissed face smeared likewise. Crouching, she crept from the shadows of the forest with a staff gripped before her.


    The black-feathered stork beside her, however, towered proud as it broke the treeline. Smoky soot showered from its sides as it sauntered out, creating a false fog around it. Fully head and shoulders taller than the girl, the bird might easily have matched Hasda in height. Oddest of all was its bill, broad and spade-like closer to its head, but from the tip extended a silvery protrusion, longer than the stork¡¯s neck.


    Kydon firmed his grip on his Pike while I summoned my Sword to my side as we made our way towards the advancing pair. When the girl noticed us, she buried herself against the bird¡¯s side, peeking through its wing. Kydon and I covered the distance between us faster than the girl and her bird. Both seemed mortal, and neither exuded an aura as we approached.


    When we were a human¡¯s stone throw from each other, Kydon stopped and planted the butt of his Pike in the earth. ¡°State your business.¡±


    The girl straightened but kept her hand buried in the bird¡¯s feathers. ¡°My Cika leads. I follow.¡±


    ¡°Cika? That your friend¡¯s name?¡± I smiled at her angry scowl.


    ¡°All kavak are Cika. This Cika is mine.¡± She bared her teeth at me, a growl in her gaze. I¡¯d never thought a look could convey sound, but she managed it.


    ¡°The ore dowsers?¡± Kydon gave the stork a thoughtful look. ¡°Seppo¡¯s talked about getting one of these.¡±


    Now the girl really did growl, shoving her staff between us and the bird. As she shifted, the fox tail dangling from her belt slipped out. Still snarling, she flailed and tucked it back in.


    Brow arched, I took a step to the side. ¡°That¡¯s a metal sniffer? Explains why it looks like Phaeus got his hands on its beak. Did we know the Elthiians had them?¡± I watched her face. ¡°You are Elthiian, yes?¡±


    She wrinkled her nose at me.


    ¡°We do now.¡± Kydon gave the girl a thoughtful look.


    ¡°You will not take him from me.¡± She clacked her teeth at us. Behind her, the kavak spread its dark wings, trying to look intimidating and dusting them both with ash.


    I held up a hand. ¡°And we have no intention of doing so. You must admit our curiosity as to how you came by such a rare creature, and how you¡¯ve survived so long on your own with undead roaming the land.¡±


    ¡°The ash keeps us safe.¡± She tightened her grip on her staff.


    Kydon and I exchanged a look.


    ¡°Malia has said nothing of this,¡± Kydon began, but I shook my head.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think the Sleepless have exhibited any aversion to it, otherwise she would have taken advantage of it.¡± I turned to the girl. ¡°Do you serve the Weeping Queen?¡±


    She hissed and shrank into the plumage. ¡°She has abandoned us. Vythar will avenge...¡±


    We waited, but she remained silent.


    ¡°Vythar is the surviving son?¡± I asked.


    She nodded once. ¡°He is fierce, and protects us from the soulless.¡±


    The tremble in her legs had nothing to do with fear. I gave her a stern look. ¡°When was the last time you ate?¡±


    ¡°I can fend for myself.¡± Teeth bared, she feigned competence and just ended up shaking more.


    Vanishing my Sword, I nodded to Kydon. ¡°Let¡¯s get her inside and get her fed. She can answer better once she¡¯s rested.¡±


    Her face tightened with hollow haughtiness. ¡°I will be no prisoner.¡±


    ¡°No, but you will be malnourished if you keep guessing which roots are edible.¡± Kydon, Pike likewise gone, ambled over.


    She pulled back, pushing the bird away as well. Squawking, the stork perked up, blinking at the village, and then jerked away from her grip in a sprint.


    ¡°Cika!¡±


    Kydon caught her as she stumbled. In a blink, the kavak had raced across the field to the bridge and darted inside the village. Picking up the unhappy girl, Kydon carried her past me. ¡°I will see her fed while you find the bird.¡±

 Chapter 117: The Stab

    The Elthiian girl, whose name turned out to be Nika, protested being carried until her stomach quaked and her arms shook. Then she sank down in Kydon¡¯s arms and glowered at him for the rest of the trip. We split after crossing the bridge, the Arbiter to find a place to rest and feed Nika, and I to find her errant kavak.


    Malia started tugging on our bond almost as soon as I was through the gate. It didn¡¯t take long to find her and the strange scene she¡¯d created.


    Charred Sleepless lay scattered across the street, steam rising from their inert forms. Blemishes dotted the swathes of decay that Malia had inflicted on the village earth, the aftermath of her gaze sweeping back and forth over the deformed undead. Most of the huts seemed to have survived her rage, although a crack fissured the flaky dirt of the dwelling nearest her. Her wings shivered with rage, but not at the corpses.


    Hasda opposed her, one arm wrapped around the neck of the kavak, his other hand stroking its long bill. The djinn fire was banked, and the angry welt of his mended chestplate was already buried beneath a thick layer of ash. He made soothing sounds to the stork as he met Malia¡¯s glare.


    Not quite between them, Thrax stood with one hand on Hasda¡¯s shoulder and the other stretched out to Malia. His axe hung at his side, its head crusted with blood and bits of gore. While his stance was defensive, he dipped his head in deference to my wife.


    ¡°This yours?¡± Malia snarled out of the side of her mouth as I approached.


    Frowning, I slowed to a walk. ¡°We found a half-starved Elthiian girl. That¡¯s hers.¡±


    ¡°This¡­creature nearly killed Hasda.¡±


    ¡°He was just excited.¡± Hasda tightened his grip, shielding the stork. ¡°I told you, he said my chestplate smelled exactly like the ore in his dreams.¡±


    Carefully, I slid next to Malia and put a hand on her arm as I parsed what Hasda had said. It¡¯d been a while since I¡¯d last heard of him exercising his ability as a Beast Whisperer, able to talk to any animal, but he¡¯d probably done so quite a bit with his hydras while I was recovering. What we knew of the kavaks were that they scented mineral deposits beneath the earth, not refined and fashioned metals. Our information could easily have been incomplete, given how few peoples and pantheons produced them.


    However, the kavaks were a mortal, if magical, breed. They weren¡¯t divine beasts. They had no legends associating them with fate or foretelling. They certainly didn¡¯t dream of distant lands and unknown alloys. But the way Hasda spoke of the bird¡¯s dream gave it an air of prophecy, which got my hackles up.


    ¡°Hasda, why did the kavak dream about the metal in your chestplate?¡± I watched the bird shiver beneath his grip.


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t sure.¡± Hasda kept stroking the long beak, his eyes never leaving Malia¡¯s. ¡°It felt important, though. Like its presence was necessary for Elthiia¡¯s survival, and its absence would lead to its downfall.¡±


    I gave Malia¡¯s arm a light squeeze. ¡°What else is bothering you about this bird?¡±


    ¡°Celestial steel coats its beak,¡± she spat. ¡°Impurely, but the alloy is there. I heard the metal sing when it struck his armor.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s not divine?¡± From what I could see, the metal sheathing its beak was mostly silver, veins of iron spiderwebbing the lighter metal. Maybe Malia could sense something that I couldn¡¯t, but I hadn¡¯t felt any godly aura from the kavak before. Now was no different, either.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    She shook her head and watched it as if she expected it to explode in Hasda¡¯s arms. ¡°I don¡¯t like that ash.¡±


    I frowned at the dust. It felt like normal ash to me, as normal as fire-free, avian ash could, but symbols could be finicky in an infant realm or a pantheon in chaos. The fact that this was the second unusual use of ash should have tipped me off sooner. While the kavak had never been historically tied to a deity, nothing prevented them from evolving or being adopted by one.


    Sacred animals were elevated by a god¡¯s favor, but not so much that they transcended the mortal realm. The fact that the kavak were already imbued with magic would enhance any boons granted to them, but not to the degree that they became divine beasts¡ªonly the most outstanding creature would have the pull needed to rise above its kind to that level, for those who were not the only ones in existence. If the Weeping Queen had linked the storks to her iconography via the ash, then the flakes should at least give off some indication of her influence.


    And yet, they did not. Perhaps the ash wasn¡¯t even hers. Not all of what had tainted her swamp had been the cremated remains of her divine family, but she¡¯d hoarded it all. Consumed it, while the kavak freely gave. The symbolism opposed each other, and not in a way that showed a direct contradiction, more an aversion to coupling. It was a tenuous connection at best, and without the Weeping Queen plainly manifesting her association with the storks, it wasn¡¯t one I could make. But I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was there, and it was likely the same intuition that had Malia so ruffled.


    When I mentioned the potential link to Malia, she folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at the kavak. ¡°It should be hers, but it¡¯s not. I don¡¯t like it.¡±


    The bird clicked its bill beneath Hasda¡¯s hand.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t like you either.¡± Hasda struggled with the stork as it tried to wrestle out of his grip. ¡°That was the polite translation.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll like me a lot less when I pluck his scrawny hide and reclaim that celestial metal he has no right to.¡± Her voice was cool, with a brittle winter bite beneath it.


    I nudged her. ¡°Let¡¯s let Hasda calm the bird without antagonizing it more. He can learn what it knows while we go see how Kydon is treating the Elthiian girl.¡± Pulling her away from the bird, I gave Hasda a look. ¡°See if you can stable the bird somewhere while we¡¯re gone.¡±


    Still grumbling and glaring daggers, Malia let me drag her from the scene. Thrax looked awkwardly between us and Hasda, so I waved for him to follow. Falling in behind us, he set about scrubbing his axe clean while we walked. The Sleepless flesh was unusually sticky, clinging worse than tar to the metal.


    Villagers shuffled through the streets as we passed, carting out the dead and undead. Unlike the Sivariians, the Frischiian numbness didn¡¯t leave them unresponsive, and one was able to point the way to the hut where Kydon had taken the Elthiian girl. That section of the village had seen less action than the rest, and the hut itself was nearly untouched from the incursion, save a streak of ash on its front wall.


    Skirting in front of Malia, I opened the door and stuck my head in. To my surprise, Kydon stood in the center of the room, towering over the girl, with the biggest grin on his face. Scowling, the girl glared at him like Malia¡¯s pupil. Her clothes looked even dirtier inside, the gray almost overtaking the green, and she sat surrounded by a puddle of ash. An empty bowl lay beside her, the food residue disguised by more ash.


    ¡°What¡¯s got you all excited?¡± I asked as I ducked through the doorway.


    He uncrossed his arms and opened his hand, exposing a small, obsidian dagger. ¡°She tried to stab me.¡±


    ¡°You?¡± I glanced between the pair. Even if she stood on the tips of her toes, I wasn¡¯t sure her head would reach Kydon¡¯s hips. His arms were thicker than her shoulders were broad. It was comical how much he dwarfed her, not to mention the divine disparity.


    Malia tucked her wings as she slithered in, measuring the girl with a look. ¡°Not a speck of power in her. Are you sure this tiny little thing managed to get all the way from Elthiia to here by herself?¡±


    ¡°She has tenacity.¡± If ever a rumble could purr, Kydon demonstrated it now. I¡¯d never seen him so happy.


    Malia gave him a surprised look. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were looking for a champion.¡±


    ¡°Not quite.¡± The ogre grinned and held the dagger, hilt out, to the girl. ¡°But I admire the strength of her spirit.¡±


    Nika snatched it and slid the blade beneath her cloak. ¡°You mock me.¡±


    ¡°Child, do you know what he is?¡± Malia gestured at our arbiter. ¡°A half-troll, half-ogre¡ªbut full-blooded¡ªCarthian deity. You¡¯d have more success pushing over a tree. And you,¡± she said, circling to the right, ¡°are an unblessed mortal of no seeming consequence, save for your avian companion.¡± Her eyes locked on the girl¡¯s. ¡°Tell me about him.¡±


    ¡°I think not. And I¡¯m not a child.¡± Nika glared back at Malia.


    Flicking her wings, Malia leaned down to be level with the girl. ¡°You think too highly of yourself and your abilities. Confidence is admirable, child, but stupidity will get you killed.¡±


    ¡°Your skin is softer than his.¡± The black blade flashed, back in her hand again.


    Malia chuckled. ¡°I think you¡¯ll find my hide harder to skin. But that was not a threat, young one.¡± She tipped her head towards the empty bowl. ¡°We have sheltered and fed you, and will continue to do so as long as you need to recover. We will even provide you an escort, if needed, when you return to your home.¡±


    ¡°You would follow, and steal the secret of our Cika.¡± She scowled at Malia and kept her dagger out.


    Malia frowned and righted herself. ¡°Well, that was my honey. Would you like the vinegar?¡±


    I put a hand on her arm. ¡°Let¡¯s¡­¡± I trailed off, glancing around the room. Someone was missing. ¡°Where¡¯s Thrax?¡±

 Chapter 118: The Shades

    Thrax, it turns out, had not come inside. The door was still open, with Thrax leaning against the wall of the hut. Polishing his axe by rote, he stared off into the distance.


    ¡°Everything okay?¡± I crossed his line of sight and leaned against the wall next to him.


    The burly man smiled and shook his head. ¡°Forgiveness, eminent god. Merely seeing ghosts.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°I know a thing or two about that. Any in particular?¡±


    ¡°For a moment, I thought that girl was the same as one I¡¯d lost years ago.¡± He switched from parallel strokes to a circular motion on the axe head. ¡°One of the few excursions that darken my mind and blemish my reputation as a reliable guide and guard.¡± Falling silent, he lost himself in the gleam of the celestial steel. A shake, and he began polishing anew. ¡°I was young, but vigilant of the wrong things. While looking for raiders in expected places, I misjudged the ingenuity of the bandits. The family in my care was lost to me. I still hear their daughter¡¯s screams.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Mistakes which befall during our best efforts are often the heaviest burdens to bear. They can shape us, or destroy us.¡±


    Thrax gave me a sad smile. ¡°Such have certainly sculpted my character.¡± His polishing slowed as he watched the villagers hoisting a handful of undead corpses over the wall. ¡°In my culture, death is a monument to life. The meaning of one¡¯s work is only fully realized when it has ended. But building such a conclusion weighs upon those whose hands are dusted with laying its foundation.¡±


    ¡°And how many of these monuments have you constructed?¡±


    He paused to glance at the sheen on his celestial steel, then went back to polishing. ¡°Many, and yet not so many.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°It was much the same when I spoke with the majestic goddess Malia. We Nsalians do not have an ¡®afterlife,¡¯ as you would call it. Those whose lives you¡¯ve touched in life become the pallbearers of the fragments of your soul, a foundation in truth for your monument to life.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°When are these souls you carry laid to rest? If you are the pallbearers, then there must be a grave.¡±


    ¡°It is a metaphor, great one.¡± Thrax shook his head. ¡°When we die, those fragments become a seed basket for the Bird Who Dwells Amongst the Stars. Holding that offering shatters our own soul, to be gathered and borne by those we have touched in our own lives.¡±


    ¡°What of your gods? You have no God of Death?¡±


    He smiled and shrugged. ¡°The Bird Who Dwells Amongst the Stars¡ªTazzanin a Ukan d¡¯Ignwa Ydad, in my native tongue¡ªis all: our father, mother, and guardian. It is not a god like you would understand it, marvelous one, but we honor and serve it nevertheless. Your favored Malia called it a ¡®celestial beast,¡¯ a crude term but perhaps the most apt analogy in your language.¡±


    I would have to visit Nsalia and see this celestial beast sometime, if it existed at all. Mortals had worshiped divine beasts before, but calling the Bird celestial implied a higher plane. I¡¯d never heard of the titans having divine beasts¡ªtitanic beasts?¡ªon their level before. Not even Seppo¡¯s mother had had such a thing: all of her menagerie had been strictly divine, no matter how powerful they¡¯d been.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Knowing Malia, she¡¯d have already seen and assessed this celestial beast, assuming it was real. Many mythologies of smaller or more isolated peoples had made such outrageous claims before but, when investigated, crumbled into empty fables. It was probable that Thrax¡¯s people served a god, or titan, who hid behind the avian symbolism for their own personal reason.


    What concerned me more was that, if such a transcendent creature truly existed, it would likely offer little comfort to those under its wings. Divine beasts were unbothered by the concerns of mortals. How much more so would a celestial beast be? Unless it was an exception, like the Kydonian tiger that had taken to tailing Hasda, and had turned its eyes earthwards, the Bird was unlikely to pay them mind beyond its soul feasting.


    Leaving Thrax to bear his burdens alone.


    It made sense, then, that Nsalian belief would blossom around an ideal whose central tenet was carrying one¡¯s cares by themselves.


    ¡°If you wish, I could provide some comfort by laying a few of the souls to rest.¡± I nodded at his confused look. ¡°Both Malia and I deal with the realm of death. It¡¯s not good to leave such to fester unattended for long periods. Maybe you¡¯ve seen the destruction it causes. I certainly have.¡±


    ¡°The god is most gracious.¡± Thrax bowed his head. ¡°But, I must humbly decline. These are my burden to bear, and they are not so whole as to be wholly laid to rest, should you try. Each shard goes to fashion the whole of the seed that the Bird forms. It is a weight, to be sure, but not one so fearsome as you suggest.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m here if you ever need to talk. Even a manageable burden can become imbalanced and capsize you.¡±


    He bowed his head again. ¡°You are a generous and benevolent god.¡±


    When he raised his head, his eyes still looked troubled. Not at the villagers, who¡¯d nearly cleared the undead bodies in this section, but at what I wasn¡¯t sure.


    ¡°It is the dogs,¡± he said when I asked. ¡°Or, that there are no dogs, excellent one.¡±


    I frowned. Now that he¡¯d pointed it out, I hadn¡¯t seen a single pet in the village. With the presence of the undead, it made sense the villagers would have scant animals, but not none. Dogs and geese would both warn against the approach of the Sleepless when eyes failed, or before an advance could be seen, so to forgo the animals entirely was unusual.


    ¡°Were there dogs here before?¡± I shifted as I felt something tickle my bond. Maybe Malia was finishing up with the girl.


    Thrax nodded. ¡°On my last visit, leading a Tarsic convoy of mineral traders, I saw them everywhere. Almost every family had one, if not two.¡±


    Crossing my arms, I scowled at the empty huts around us. ¡°And you¡¯ve seen no sign of them since we arrived?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°If the great god has not, how would I have caught what you missed? If I had not come before, I would not have known they had such beasts before, such is the absence of their presence.¡±


    As if there wasn¡¯t enough chaos and uncertainty in the region. I sighed. ¡°If you see so much as a buried bone, let me know. Something¡¯s awry when the animals flee, if that¡¯s what they¡¯ve done.¡±


    ¡°It is as you say.¡± The muscles of his shoulders bunched and relaxed as he worked the steel.


    Feathers rustled as Malia dipped through the door. Eyes hard, she snarled curses under her breath.


    I caught her arm and tugged her towards me. ¡°That well?¡±


    ¡°I would take a thousand of you, when we first met, than question that insufferable git again.¡± She flared her wings, her snakes bobbing and hissing.


    ¡°But you learned something.¡±


    ¡°Confirmed what I already suspected,¡± she snapped. Thrax redoubled his efforts on his axe, keeping his head down. Malia didn¡¯t notice his discomfort. ¡°What was already plainly written on her face, though she denied it.As if she were the god, and I the mortal.¡±


    ¡°Which was?¡± I asked, soothing.


    She huffed. ¡°That they serve the Weeping Queen¡¯s son, Vythar, and that they prepare for war against the Sleepless. That they seek to avenge Balphur, or die trying. And that that intolerable little brat has snuck off with her bird, something expressly forbidden or thereabouts, and she thinks to outsmart me.¡±


    ¡°Did Kydon kick you out?¡± I pulled her closer, gently.


    This time she settled against me. ¡°I actually left before he suggested it, though I could see it in his eyes. And I suspect, though of course that hellion won¡¯t admit it, that she¡¯s been followed by a guardian or caretaker. How far behind they are, I¡¯m not sure, but I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they arrived before day¡¯s end, given the significance of the bird she¡¯s taken.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°The kavak are special. Seppo wanted one before.¡±


    Malia shook her head. ¡°Not just that. Apparently there are two kinds, the greater and lesser kavak. Of the two, the lesser are the more precious, because they can seek or far more successfully than their betters. The lesser find the ore, and the greater bond it, since the greater are the fighters. And that is the secret that should have remained within her village.¡±


    ¡°But if hers is the rarer and more valuable breed, how did she get out of her village with it?¡± I let go as Malia pulled away to pace.


    ¡°She¡¯s likely either extremely skilled, or related to someone of enough significance to get away with¡ª¡±


    The door slammed open, and Kydon carried Nika out by her shirt, the biggest grin on his face that I¡¯d ever seen. His robe had a giant hole in the front, exposing a fresh scar on his tan skin.


    ¡°I think,¡± the ogre said, ¡°that I shall keep this one.¡±

 Chapter 119: The Riders

    We all stared, but not as much as Nika, who had eyes only for Thrax. Her mouth opened and fluttered a bit, before snapping closed as her face went completely red. Focused on his axe, he didn¡¯t notice, or at least didn¡¯t react if he did. But it had been many years since I¡¯d seen a mortal so immediately smitten. In peak form, Tarrha would have been hard pressed to inflict infatuation so quickly.


    Malia hid her smile behind her hand. ¡°She nick your heart, too?¡±


    ¡°Her spirit is indomitable! She has absolutely no propriety, no respect for convention.¡± The last time Kydon had grinned this broadly, he¡¯d outmaneuvered Zephyrus over flooding season. ¡°I could not ask for a better candidate.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t recommend conscripting your champion.¡± I breathed a laugh as Nika gave up trying to catch Thrax¡¯s eye and settled for glaring at us again, her face still considerably flushed. ¡°She¡¯s more likely to sabotage the tasks and slit your ankles.¡±


    Kydon¡¯s smile stretched his face near to breaking. ¡°It has been far too long since I have schooled one so spirited. I shall enjoy the challenge.


    ¡°Your claim might be contested.¡± Thrax slid his axe into his belt and shifted off the wall as something chirped and clattered up behind us.


    A trio of mounted kavak riders, lances pointed skyward, trotted their birds within a stone¡¯s throw of our accidental gathering. Feathers powdered dark gray by ash, the birds were larger than Nika¡¯s, their beaks a uniform dirty bronze, as opposed to the collage that coated Cika¡¯s bill. The lead bird¡¯s rider holstered his lance and dismounted.


    ¡°Unhand the girl and return her to us.¡± The look the man gave Kydon was reprimanding. Though perhaps a little shorter than Hasda, he held himself high with assumed authority. ¡°Where is her companion?¡±


    Malia¡¯s wings snapped in annoyance. Before she could answer, however, Thrax had slipped between us and the riders, arms spread and smile wide.


    ¡°It has been many years since I last traversed these lands.¡± His eyes and teeth flashed as he approached the men. ¡°Yet, I remember that the divine were held in high regard here. Perhaps you are unfamiliar with their forms? I would be honored to enlighten you.¡±


    ¡°Divine or not,¡± the man said, sliding his gaze over us before returning to Thrax, ¡°that girl has absconded with a tribal heirloom. Return her and that which she has stolen, so that we may reprimand her among her own. Privately.¡±


    ¡°What kind of punishment will you mete?¡± Thrax¡¯s voice held an edge to it I¡¯d never heard him use before. ¡°Dishonor? Debasement?¡±


    The man frowned. ¡°Whether we have her stripped of rank or set to tentkeeping is not for outsiders to concern themselves with. Release her to us at once.¡±


    Shaking his head, Thrax planted his hands on his hips. ¡°My axe is freshly polished. It would be a shame for it to require further cleaning.¡±


    ¡°Alas, we¡¯ve ridden our birds hard,¡± the man replied. ¡°I would hate for mine to sprain its neck.¡±


    ¡°What did you do to Duszan?¡± Nika snarled.


    ¡°There are Sleepless about, Nika-durla.¡± He talked out the side of his mouth, never breaking his staring contest with Thrax. ¡°He is safe at home. Vythar sent us in his stead, to see you safely home.¡±


    ¡°Kloka-mouthed bastard.¡± Still dangling from Kydon¡¯s grip, she struggled and spat at the riders. ¡°Duszan would never.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Watch your language, ill-bred b¡ª¡± His words cut off as the edge of Thrax¡¯s axe kissed his neck.


    A vein popped in Thrax¡¯s neck as he leaned down, inches from the man¡¯s face. ¡°Many kinds of people I have met during my travels. I have found that those who speak with such violence tend to act such. Men with no respect for their children, men who take more tender care of their animals than their women, these are monsters wearing stolen skin. Is your god so poor, that he must settle for devils?¡±


    ¡°Where did you get that weapon?¡± The man glanced at the axe, not with fear, but eager interest veiled by suspicion. His hands twitched as if he wanted to snatch it away from Thrax.


    ¡°A djinn from my ancestor¡¯s well. Enchanted to only cut those whose hearts are corrupted with evil.¡± Thrax¡¯s smile was cold. ¡°Would you like to see?¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t how nebotsvo works.¡± Frowning, the man held up a hand as his companions shifted their birds forward. ¡°We have been hunting deposits of such metal for a long time. If you¡¯ve found that within our territory, the law requires you turn it over to us, and show us the location of the deposit.¡±


    ¡°Lucky for us, this isn¡¯t Elthiian territory, nor is that axe¡¯s home Elthii.¡± Malia slid forward, wings snapping. ¡°You¡¯ve failed to introduce yourselves, as is proper. You¡¯ve insulted us, implied us thieves, and forgotten your station as mortals beneath your betters. If Thrax had taken your head from your shoulders, he would have left a handful more slights unavenged. So tell me, why do you deserve to continue living on Carthian land?¡±


    ¡°Strange, Vythar ruled when we left.¡± It was kind of admirable, the man¡¯s determination, despite him being an ass. ¡°Curnerein still belongs to the House of Balphar.¡±


    ¡°From my observations,¡± Kydon rumbled, ¡°that pantheon stands but a stiff breeze from collapsing. Upon our return, we found Frischii lay barren and godless. Where is this Vythar, to enforce his claim?¡±


    ¡°So you claim Curnerein for Carthia?¡± The man¡¯s voice was tight.


    Kydon looked at Malia and me.


    ¡°Not a martial claim.¡± I sighed. ¡°We are traders, not conquerors. But Vythar¡¯s father failed to defend his House, his wife, his children, and his lands. Frischii has hidden beneath our wings since before his fall. In all that time, where was Vythar to guard his father¡¯s flock?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Rule of the land is the concern of the gods. If he wishes to contest, he must be present to speak with.¡±


    Malia set a hand on Thrax¡¯s shoulder, who took a step back and holstered his axe. My gorgon kept her eyes on the lead rider as she circled towards the other two. ¡°I¡¯m interested in how you know celestial steel, and that you seem to think its ore resides within Curnerein.¡±


    ¡°Balphar mastered all metal during his time. We remain to gather his scraps.¡± The man turned and did his best to look like he was striding in step with Malia, rather than scurrying to keep her from flanking him. His riders backed up.


    ¡°Scant copper and inferior iron is a far cry from all ore.¡± Eyes hooded, Malia slipped in front of Thrax. ¡°How much of this ¡®nebotsvo¡¯ does Vythar have?¡±


    Scowling, the man climbed back atop his bird. ¡°The girl, if you please.¡±


    ¡°She is under our protection.¡± From the way her wings twitched, she was restraining herself from summoning her War Bow.


    Hanging from Kydon¡¯s hold on her, Nika muttered just how good she thought our protection was and where she was going to stab it.


    ¡°You have no authority to claim her.¡± Anger clouded the man¡¯s face. ¡°Return her and her bird to us at once.¡±


    Kydon smiled and lumbered towards the riders, depositing Nika in Thrax¡¯s arms as he passed him. ¡°Then it should be a simple matter for your god to validate his superseding proprietorship. Although he doesn¡¯t merit a summit, he ought to at least be able to hold an official conference.¡±


    ¡°We do need to meet with him.¡± Malia eyed the trio thoughtfully. ¡°Regardless of whether he wants or will accept our help, he needs to understand where we stand.¡±


    ¡°If you really wish to help, unhand the¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand your position.¡± I frowned at his glare from being cut off. ¡°Although we¡¯re not conquerors, we are at war. We now have three unknown variables, demanding a fourth be released into their custody, to be taken to a deity¡ªhowever minor¡ªwho hasn¡¯t made his position clear. You could be spies, appearances notwithstanding. So we¡¯re not releasing the girl to you, and you¡¯re not leaving here without an escort we trust. The last thing we need is a secondary ambush while we deal with the primary threat.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d been meaning to scout the river one last time before the Trial begins tomorrow.¡± Kydon nodded to himself. ¡°Then it¡¯s settled. Prepare yourselves to ride. I will accompany you back to Comann and meet with your god. If I am satisfied, then you may return with me to retrieve your charge. But I mean to do some convincing of my own.¡±


    The head rider spluttered, flush creeping into his face. His companions looked ready to bolt, though they seemed more afraid of the offense their captain was giving unfamiliar deities. Before he could protest, Kydon grabbed the kavak¡¯s lead and dragged the bird towards the village entrance.


    ¡°The time has come,¡± he said as he led the bird away. ¡°I will speed them on their way, but if I haven¡¯t returned by sunrise, begin the Trial.¡±


    ¡°We could wait until you get back.¡± Malia gave him a slight smile. ¡°I¡¯m interested to see what you find.¡±


    The ogre paused, ignoring the increasingly irate Elthiian beside him. ¡°Normally, I would agree. But I¡¯ve already satisfied myself with my search for your caches, and I¡¯ve been¡­advised by Phemonoe that the Trial suffer no delay. May Hasda succeed in his task.¡±


    I really hated the void that settled in Kydon¡¯s absence. Phe hadn¡¯t warned me of a new foretelling, and from Malia¡¯s surprise the seer had kept her in the dark as well. If a new vision involving the Trial had come to Phe, then we had to stay vigilant. She¡¯d said this would be Hasda¡¯s final Trial, and I fully intended him to survive it.

 Chapter 120: The Eve

    The rest of the day passed swiftly beneath a haze of unease as Hasda¡¯s warriors prepared to embark at daybreak. Thrax led most of the preparations, Nika trailed him like a lost puppy around the compound, and Malia tailed them both. Maybe Hasda would have been better served assisting Thrax, but I wasn¡¯t going to let this last secure respite go to waste. Phemonoe had more or less assured his safety through this final Trial, but not even she had seen a certain fate beyond that.


    So I dragged him away from tending the kavak under the pretense of a final bit of training.


    His quarter-part celestial steel sword looked good in his hands, and the blade flowed smoothly as he went through the various stances and forms. I tested his balance and reflexes with a blunted sword that the village smith assured me wouldn¡¯t crumple in my grip. Not like I¡¯d be putting my full weight behind my strokes, but at least the metal didn¡¯t buckle when I squeezed the grip.


    Before we sparred in earnest, I also had him test his connection with the blade. Despite the ambrosia he¡¯d consumed, he couldn¡¯t do more than sense a faint tingling in the metal. When he¡¯d risen closer to divine, he¡¯d be able to imbue the blade with his power, so it was a further concern how mortal he still remained. But he was able to sheath the blade in djinn fire, which crackled like a burning log when it came in contact with the alloy.


    Immaterial limits probed, we switched back to the physical. A few questing strikes, and we fell into a comfortable rhythm.


    ¡°You need to keep your wits about you once you¡¯re across the river.¡± I grunted as he caught my overhead strike and turned the blade. A quick reverse sent him dancing back. ¡°We haven¡¯t been able to gather any information about the Stitcher, other than the Sleepless likely have some level of independence. So grabbing the Staff won¡¯t keep the undead off your back.¡±


    ¡°That would explain why they¡¯ve been able to deploy maneuvers while attacking the village.¡± He parried another strike and swept at my feet.


    Right. He¡¯d been here, fighting the undead, while I was recovering from my injuries. Dodging his sweep, I cracked down on his sword hard enough to nearly rattle it from his hands. ¡°As soon as you reach the other riverbank tomorrow morning, the Trial begins and our hands become tied. If you¡¯re overwhelmed, I can pull you out, but you¡¯ll fail the Trial.¡±


    He disengaged and circled left. ¡°I¡¯ll be okay, Dad. Thrax and Saran will be with me as well, and my men have proved themselves against the Sleepless this past year. I have every faith in their ability.¡±


    ¡°Even so, they¡¯re still mortals. As are you.¡± I cut off his flank by pressing the attack. He caught a few of my strikes, but my sudden reverse slipped through and rapped his ribs.


    Panting, he rested on his sword and smiled. ¡°This isn¡¯t goodbye. Unless you¡¯re going somewhere after the Trial?¡±


    I scowled. ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°Great. Because I¡¯m going to need your help learning how to lead an army.¡± His smile broadened. ¡°That¡¯s a little bigger than village defenders.¡±


    ¡°It might not be goodbye, but it¡¯s still an end.¡± I sighed, trying not to show how much I sagged rather than rested on my own sword. ¡°It has been a while since I last raised a champion. No matter the century, it never gets easier. Especially since so many mistake their celebratory torch for a funeral pyre.¡±


    Lifting his sword, he shifted to my right. ¡°The only pyres in my future will be cleansing the earth of the undead.¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    I grunted and swung my sword up as well. ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to that.¡±


    We went through a few more forms, Hasda keeping pace quite nicely despite the length of our sparring session. Our rhythm flowed, metal kissing metal at a constant tempo. When he stumbled, however, I pulled my strike. It wasn¡¯t like him to suddenly lose focus. He looked northward, frowning.


    ¡°Perhaps we¡¯ve trained enough.¡± I¡¯d have thought he wanted to watch the sunset, if not for the direction he gazed.


    ¡°I felt something strange.¡± His frown deepened. ¡°It was faint, but it felt large, for how far away it was.¡±


    My sword clanged against the ground as I dropped it out of habit. Only my celestial weapon vanished when I did that. I shot the steel a frown. ¡°What kind of feeling?¡±


    ¡°Almost like the hydra, but¡­¡± He shook his head, sheathing his own blade. ¡°It was tainted, somehow. And not quite as uniform. If that amphora I broke had a spirit, it would probably feel like this.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow at his back. ¡°The one when you were six?¡±


    He grinned over his shoulder at me. ¡°So it was your favorite.¡±


    ¡°It was the most convenient one. I had to get a new one from the village.¡± I scowled at his laugh. ¡°That¡¯s besides the point. How far away do you think this shattered spirit is?¡±


    ¡°Hard to say. Much farther than any of the patrols I¡¯ve taken have traveled.¡± He stared off into the distance for a moment, then jumped as his stomach rumbled. ¡°It¡¯s almost time for dinner.¡±


    ¡°That it is.¡± I patted his shoulder as we started back to the village. ¡°I¡¯ll have your mother check the riverbank before nightfall. Until sunrise, we can do at least that much.¡± He was smiling at me strangely. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the first time you¡¯ve called her that.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°It was?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°I was wondering if you ever would. Been waiting almost forty years to hear it.¡±


    I stumbled but quickly caught myself. Ambrosia wouldn¡¯t de-age him that quickly. ¡°You¡¯re barely thirty-five. Don¡¯t be in such a rush to become old.¡± Sighing, I shook my head. ¡°But yes, I suppose she is. With or without my knowledge, she¡¯s had just as much a hand in raising you as I have.¡±


    ¡°What am I being accused of?¡± Wings flapping, Malia descended next to us and curled up on my arm. It was hard to read the look in her eyes because, on the surface, she had that playful gleam, but something underneath that sheen held unease.


    I nudged her with my shoulder. ¡°Sticking your nose wherever it finds purchase.¡±


    She scowled. ¡°I very clearly heard something different.¡±


    ¡°Then you know both the charge and the verdict.¡±


    Her snakes hissed as she wrinkled her nose at me. ¡°You¡¯re no fun.¡±


    Hasda cleared his throat. ¡°I just wanted to say, on the eve of this final Trial, that I¡¯m grateful for all you¡¯ve done for me these years. You¡¯ve been amazing, and I wouldn¡¯t have grown into half the man I am today without you.¡±


    He had his eyes on the horizon, marching in step next to us.


    Malia squeezed my arm and slid closer. ¡°Your father has never been good with expressions of heartfelt appreciation, but he¡¯s very proud of you all the same.¡±


    I shot her a look, then grunted. ¡°We¡¯re both proud of you. And no matter what happens during this Trial, we will always love you and watch over you.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± He grinned, his hand drifting to the back of his head. That signature sheepish gesture sent memories flinging themselves against my recollection, snapshots of his years growing up in my abandoned temple, getting caught sneaking off (or back from) the woods at night, all those wonderful images of his best behaved years.


    It was a nice moment promptly interrupted by ill fortune.


    Malia¡¯s fingers dug into my arm as her eyes snapped forward. ¡°Did you sense that?¡±


    ¡°I was hoping I hadn¡¯t.¡± Someone Veiled was sprinting towards the village, someone injured and in an urgent hurry.


    Hasda and I sprinted for the gates, Malia taking to the skies. When we arrived, we found Kydon clawing out of his Veil, deep gouges on his bald head and blood coating the left side of his face and chest. Irritated lines crisscrossed his arms and torso, and something had taken several bites out of his shoulder.


    ¡°Ambush.¡± His nostrils flared as he sucked in breath. ¡°In the river.¡±


    ¡°Vythar?¡± Malia asked.


    The half troll shook his head. ¡°A pair of minor goddesses. I didn¡¯t recognize them.¡±


    I scowled. Even caught off guard, Kydon should have been able to fend for himself better than this. Which meant an answer I likely didn¡¯t want to hear. ¡°Minor deities did that much to you?¡±


    Kydon shrugged, then winced as he felt the chunks of missing flesh above his collarbone. ¡°Proxies. Their empowerment was very inconsistent, but the taint was distinct.¡±


    I frowned and fought the urge to cross my arms. ¡°Not of the ancient, naval variety, please.¡±


    He jerked a nod.


    ¡°And these goddesses wouldn¡¯t happen to be merrow or sylvan, would they?¡±


    He nodded again.


    I sighed. Of course the Serynis had sided with the Sea Mother.


    ¡°Those two from Ibithia?¡± Malia let the question hang. ¡°I¡¯ll make some adjustments. Hasda, be a dear and tell Thrax to start readying the troops. We move tonight.¡±

 Chapter 121: The Unendowed

    Orders given, Malia winged off to do her own preparations. After waiting for my confirmation, Hasda dashed into the village to find his right hand. When I turned back to Kydon, I found him munching on gelled ambrosia covered in grime, hair, and other dark particles I didn¡¯t want to contemplate.


    ¡°Nasty pair, those,¡± he said, spittle dribbling around the lumpy curds. ¡°They weren¡¯t proxied last time?¡±


    ¡°The Serynis?¡± I shook my head. ¡°They Ascended when we fought them. And the last time I saw them, they¡¯d still been¡­¡±


    I scowled. Not a month past, they¡¯d been unaligned. Or was it a week? It felt like just yesterday I found them in that strange, underworld-adjacent realm, lost and without a pantheon. So if the Sea Mother had claimed them, it must have been extremely recent. Given that Lazuli was in the area, it wasn¡¯t surprising that Tamiyat had also given away her location.


    But ¡°extremely bad¡± didn¡¯t even begin to cover her sudden arrival. What interest did she have in Curnerein? What use were the Serynis, who likely couldn¡¯t handle a fourth the power that Lazuli could, to her as proxies? And, most importantly, why now?


    I winced as fresh flesh knit itself across the gap in his shoulder. ¡°How did Vythar react to our proposal?¡±


    ¡°I would have flogged his arrogance out of him, if he were one of ours.¡± The half-ogre rolled his good shoulder, then gingerly tested the new muscles on the other. ¡°He demanded that we return the kavak¡ªthe girl was barely an afterthought to him¡ªand that we abandon Curnerein to him. He claimed that revenge was his alone, and the land his birthright as Balphar¡¯s only surviving descendent.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Blinded by rage. I did not hear him mention his mother once. Only his own pain, and the justice he sought.¡±


    ¡°So no help from that front.¡±


    ¡°Ah, an enemy, no less.¡± He gave me a crooked grin. ¡°The warriors I escorted, he sent back as my escorts. They did not survive the Serynis at the river. Even without knowing this, Vythar has said that there is a spear for my back, if ever it graces his sight again. Once Hasda crosses the river, he¡¯ll have to keep a close eye on his front and his flank.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Seems foolhardy. How strong is he?¡±


    ¡°Considering his youth, he could become something.¡± Kydon chewed on the congealed ambrosia a bit. It gave him a distinctly bovine look. ¡°As he is now, it¡¯s a testament to the training of his lancers that the Stitcher hasn¡¯t overrun his meager holding.¡±


    ¡°Did he give any indication of his powers?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the thing.¡± He smacked his lips and sucked off another chunk of ambrosia. ¡°For all his vainglorious puffing, I don¡¯t think he¡¯s much endowed. He may not have even figured out what he can do, or how to control it yet. He¡¯s extremely young.¡±


    ¡°Definitely inexperienced, if he thinks he can fight multiple fronts on his own.¡± I sighed. ¡°As if there weren¡¯t enough rogue godlings running around already. We have free rein to move against the Serynis now, correct?¡±


    Kydon nodded. ¡°Full proxies or not, they¡¯ve aligned themselves with the eldritch goddess. Vythar walks a fine line between his opposition being against the Trial and against us specifically. As for any other gods, it will depend on their allegiance to the Sea Mother.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope these are the only ones we have to deal with.¡±


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    As the sun kissed the western horizon, Malia descended next to us. ¡°That barrier is still blocking the Stitcher¡¯s domain.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°It still feels like the one in Aenea?¡±


    She gave Kydon a once over, lips pursed. ¡°There¡¯s something about this one that I can¡¯t quite put my finger on. It¡¯s almost as if the weave is different.¡± A small grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. ¡°But, this time, we don¡¯t have to keep a low profile. Once Hasda¡¯s through, we¡¯ll see how it holds up against my celestial form.¡±


    ¡°Remember, once he¡¯s across the river, no assisting him.¡± Kydon met Malia¡¯s gaze with a level look. ¡°That includes providing a diversion by assaulting the Stitcher¡¯s barrier.¡±


    Her snakes flicked their tongues as she tossed her head. ¡°We¡¯re not allowed to observe the Trial?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡ª¡±


    She glared at him. ¡°If we breach the barrier at the same point that Hasda crosses, would that suffice?¡±


    ¡°At the same time, yes.¡± Kydon slurped the last of the ambrosia down. ¡°If you stagger your entries, it could be construed as distracting the Stitcher from Hasda¡¯s advance. So you¡¯ll need to keep pace with Hasda and take the barrier down as he enters Batavii.¡±


    ¡°How far beyond the river does the barrier begin?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Perhaps a mile from the Fyrisaard.¡± Malia¡¯s wings twitched as she folded her arms. ¡°The last time I scouted the Strixenvaas, I was able to go much deeper above the forest. Now, the barrier stops no more than a few hundred paces from the edge of the woods.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s why you came back so quickly.¡± I sighed. ¡°How certain are you that a celestial touch can break it? Revealing that one of us can transcend gives away enough already, let alone both of us.¡±


    ¡°The Sea Mother is the only entity who matters, and she already knows about our celestial forms.¡± She waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Once Hasda finishes with the Stitcher, I¡¯ll clean up whatever remains.¡±


    ¡°While you are free to dispose of the Stitcher once the Staff has been retrieved,¡± Kydon rumbled, ¡°please refrain from annihilating the local pantheon. This is still a Trial, despite our expanded claim over Frischii. None of our minor deities are ready to assume the full responsibilities of a worshiped god, either, although there are a few promising candidates.¡±


    Malia¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°Once the Stitcher is gone, the Sleepless will need to be scoured from the earth. I don¡¯t know what kind of failsafes he¡¯s put in them but, given his tenacity thus far, I would be highly wary of a ¡®berserk¡¯ mode, should he fall.¡±


    Kydon nodded. ¡°Still, leave someone behind to hold the land once we¡¯re gone. Preferably more than just Vythar.¡±


    I jerked upright. For a moment, I thought I¡¯d seen an orange ball of light floating in the distance, like the ones that had made up the Weeping Queen¡¯s daughter, but as I squinted at the spot I saw nothing. They asked me about it, and I told them of the strange form the missing child had taken.


    Head tilted, Malia folded her arms. ¡°Strange. I didn¡¯t sense anything, and I have yet to see anything like that anywhere in Curnerein. If this daughter had shown herself before, I¡¯d have known.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°I¡¯m not completely sure of what I saw myself. When I visited Kirunadh, it was a very surreal experience. Not quite Sybil-grade, but certainly pushing the edge of reality.¡±


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s go ascertain the reality of Hasda¡¯s preparations.¡± Malia slid her arms around mine and tugged me towards the village. ¡°We¡¯ll let you know before we leave. And you should probably determine what you¡¯re going to do about that little scamp you wanted to claim, given how her deity reacted.¡±


    A broad grin split the half-troll¡¯s face. ¡°I think, given how the meeting went, she¡¯ll be inclined to remain with us for a bit. She is perhaps more possessive of her bird than her god, and will be reluctant to part with him, or have him stripped from her. That was the fate Vythar implied would befall her upon her return.¡±


    After we¡¯d gone our separate ways, Malia tugged on my arm. ¡°Do you know what Hasda¡¯s planning?¡±


    ¡°We hadn¡¯t discussed it.¡±


    Malia chewed her lip the way she always did when annoyed. ¡°He¡¯s put Thrax in charge of the primary force, and is sending him across the river northeast, closer to Elthii. He was banking on drawing the Sleepless towards a potential ally while he took a smaller group into the heart of Batavii to extract the Staff while the Stitcher¡¯s eye was elsewhere.¡±


    I frowned. It was a solid plan, given that, normally, the living banded together against the undead. But with the demeanor Vythar had shown, there was enough reason to doubt that Thrax¡¯s company wouldn¡¯t find themselves pincered between lances and lifeless.


    But there was another, bigger problem. ¡°Hasda¡¯s attempting a stealth crossing, and we have to light a beacon above his head.¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡± Malia¡¯s snakes hissed. ¡°Can you breach the barrier on your own?¡±


    My eyebrows crinkled. ¡°You¡¯re going to cross with Thrax?¡±


    ¡°Unless you have a better idea.¡± Malia huffed a sigh. ¡°Hasda is using Thrax as a part of his strategy, but Thrax himself isn¡¯t bound by the rules of the Trial. By attacking the barricade together, it salvages as much of his intended diversion as we can without voiding the Trial. And I want to give Vythar one last chance to see reason.¡±


    ¡°You mean show him who he¡¯s snubbing.¡± I kissed her head. ¡°A more diplomatic approach might serve you better, this time. His ego is already bruised enough without you broadcasting just how unendowed he is.¡±


    She turned her head to kiss me back. ¡°I¡¯ll take it into consideration. Wait with Hasda at the barrier. I¡¯ll signal when it¡¯s time to strike.¡±

 Chapter 122: The Hollow

    As night crept along, so did Hasda. Eight men made up the complement surrounding him, handpicked by Thrax from amongst the villagers. Thrax himself had taken three dozen, leaving Kirunadh with a meager handful of warriors to protect the village in case the Stitcher decided to ignore both incursions and attack the village directly. Nika, riding her kavak, had shouldered her way into Thrax¡¯s troop and refused to be turned. Under Malia¡¯s watch, they¡¯d split off hours ago and long since disappeared from sight.


    Hasda¡¯s men had made good time as well, reaching the riverbank with hours of moonlight left. A pair of dugout canoes had been hidden in the hollow of a nearby hill, and were quickly recovered and launched into the water. The current was gentle, which was good since they had to make multiple crossing to bring everyone across.


    Kydon and I watched from beneath the Veil. Watched, and waited. Thankfully, the Serynis didn¡¯t show themselves, or had vacated the area. The mortals crossed without incident.


    On the other side of the river, it was much the same. No signs of any opposition. No snares, no Serynis, no Sleepless. A  clear sky admitted light from a moon three-quarters full. Off in the distance loomed the Strixenvaas, its barricade invisible and as yet undetected. But a short march later, we were close enough to feel its opposition. The pair who¡¯d been designated as scouts shivered and turned back when they reached it. Hasda called a halt, and the men took to ground, slipping under soft blankets as they waited for the barrier to come down.


    In the shadows of the forest, tangerine-colored orbs drifted around the tree trunks. First three, then five, then a dozen, winking in uneven intervals. I frowned. They bobbed like fireflies, but they had neither the color nor the feel of the insects. With the barrier still up, it was hard to tell if these belonged to the Weeping Queen¡¯s daughter. My gut said they did.


    After a few minutes, the spheres dispersed, spreading out across the forest and disappearing one by one. The final one remained directly across from us long after its fellows had vanished, until it too drifted deeper into the woods and winked out.


    Nothing else of note occurred while we waited, except an ear-ringing silence that didn¡¯t belong to the night. No insects buzzed, no owls cried, and no bats winged their way through the darkness. The sleepless must have long since driven the animals away, and the absence of even the smallest signs of life weighed heavily on me. Thick woods already exuded hostility, but this one had shrugged on the coat of a crypt.


    Waiting.


    Standing alone with nothing but my thoughts and a forest inspiring morbidity was a poor way to pass the time. Kydon had assumed a meditative state, almost asleep where he stood, but he was a poor conversationalist at the best of times. The mortals had gone further than almost sleeping, many breathing evenly under their blankets, all but three. Those on watch pantomimed rest, but their eyes were alert.


    Waiting.


    Soft wind passed through the trees, tumbling over the grass around us. The mumble of the river we¡¯d left behind stretched out longingly. Its reach emphasized the lack of wildlife accompanying its murmurs.


    Waiting.


    My bond flared to life.


    Surging forward, I assumed my astral form and found myself face to face with the barrier. Even accounting for my different form, the feel of the barrier was different. It resisted more, but thinly. And all it took for it to fail was digging my fingers into it.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Tearing a hole was easier than ripping cloth. It came apart like an aged sail, twin splits screaming skyward and earthward as the barricade collapsed. I shredded several strips from the failing blanket and pocketed them. The severed pieces reminded me of my Veil, although the weave was different.If it could be mastered, it could potentially cloak the divine from others.


    But that was a project for another time.


    Shrugging off my projection, I shrank to find Kydon roused, and Hasda and his men already moving across the border. They sprinted the short distance to the forest and spread out, swords at the ready. Hasda¡¯s armor glowed softly with the djinn¡¯s violet fire thinly coating it.


    Muted panting and trampled grass disturbed the eerie silence as the men made their way into the forest. Although I watched for Sleepless, I couldn¡¯t sense or see any as Hasda led his squad through the Strixenvaas. Somewhere along the way, Hasda had picked up a stout stick, and was smacking trees with it at random. That made plenty of noise, enough to attract any roaming zombie death balls, but none of the Stitcher¡¯s forces arrived.


    He did attract something else, though. Drawn by his antics, or perhaps the purple flame, the orange balls of light drifted back. Only three this time, a pair for his men and the third for Hasda alone. It bobbed above his shoulder, as if observing, before floating off to the northeast. After colliding with several trunks, it settled on one tree, spinning around its bole.


    When Hasda failed to follow, it zipped back, bouncing back and forth inches from his face. He tried ducking around it, and it matched his dip. After it thwarted his attempt to sidestep it as well, he shrugged and signaled to his men, who fanned out as he trailed the orb. As soon as its light illuminated the tree it had been orbiting, Hasda laughed and dashed forward. His grin grew bigger as he smacked the trunk, which sounded wet and hollow.


    ¡°Those yours or Malia¡¯s?¡± Kydon said, eyeing the dancing lights.


    I shook my head. ¡°Neither. I think it¡¯s the Weeping Queen¡¯s youngest, although she doesn¡¯t seem to have reached divinity. No aura then, and nothing that I can sense now, either.¡±


    ¡°A demigod with no power.¡± Frowning, he let out a long hum.  ¡°Can she speak?¡±


    ¡°If she can, she hasn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    A lance of violet fire pierced the sky, followed by a wave of magic rank and nauseating. Its aftertaste was putrid, filled with twisted malice that would have been wrongness were it not for how intentional its aberration. Embers flaked from the lance as it collapsed and withdrew, pointing an accusing finger at Hasda¡¯s glowing sword.


    The balls of light bounced away as I shrugged off the Veil. ¡°What was that?¡± My voice startled the men around Hasda, but he had eyes only for the glittering weapon.


    ¡°Malia said it was my birthday gift.¡± His eyes had an almost manic look to them, and his grin was unsettling. ¡°Anything beyond the river is fair game, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I frowned. That gleam in his eye was almost certainly from the djinn, although the spirit itself had receded into Hasda¡¯s chestplate. ¡°So your sword can throw fire now, eh?¡±


    Hasda shook his head. ¡°Saran said it needed to be fired to set the quenching. If I store power within the blade, it can release the energy in a controlled burst. Saran can also augment it with the djinn fire during combat, but only for short durations. It¡¯s more draining than simply fighting as we are.¡±


    As he talked, the coral-colored orbs drifted back, providing a soft ambience that contrasted with the harsher violet light of the sword.They exuded no aura, carried no scent, but they did have something, a soft sound tickling the edge of my hearing, almost like a giggle. They seemed friendly enough, unlike Hasda¡¯s djinn.


    ¡°I hope you come out of this Trial as you are,¡± I said, trying to pull my frown out of its downward spiral. ¡°And you might want to move your men away from here. Who knows what might have been attracted by that fire?¡±


    A brief frown ghosted his lips before his smile, which didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes, replaced it. ¡°Wise as always. We¡¯ll move at once, the quicker to seize the prize.¡±


    My frown stayed painted on as he organized his men and set off again. Slipping back under the Veil, I found Kydon with a similar grimace.


    ¡°That djinn has soured him over the years,¡± the half-troll rumbled.


    I grunted an agreement. So long as Hasda came through this Trial, alive and in one piece, I wouldn¡¯t complain too much. But I would find a way to extricate him from that bond before he climbed among Nebesa¡¯s walls as his own deity.


    Perhaps we¡¯d already passed that point.


    Worse than that, I feared Hasda had grown too attached to the twisted spirit. He had grown, was grown enough to make his own decisions. It wasn¡¯t just his ability to commune with the animals that had displayed his care for wild things. Even as a youngling, he¡¯d watched over a rabbit¡¯s nest he¡¯d found that he thought I¡¯d missed. The duckling he rescued from a muddy, water-filled hole it could climb out of. The tadpoles he cupped in adolescent handfuls from a dwindling puddle near a stream, but no outlet for the amphibian hopefuls.


    So a spirit, confined to earth for an untold age, who viewed itself as an incomplete half, well. Even if we¡¯d known a way to separate them at their first meeting, I don¡¯t think we could have convinced Hasda to damn it to such loneliness again.


    We still knew precious little about the history of these djinn. It was something I would have to rectify after Hasda succeeded in this Trial. And he would succeed. Phe¡¯s portent could mean no else.

 Chapter 123: The Birds

    The Sleepless attacked.


    They waited until a few hours before dawn, emerging from gullies and pockets in hillsides and curtains of roots. The handful of willowisps had drifted off in the interim, leaving Hasda and his men to crawl through the forest in the cool, pre-dawn light. Nothing seemed to trigger their absence, just as nothing seemed to spring the undead¡¯s ambush.


    Despite being outnumbered several times over, Hasda¡¯s troop managed to dispatch the Sleepless. They¡¯d been wary, and the scouts fulfilled their duty. Even so, it took serious effort from the mortals to keep themselves safe. By the time dawn had broken, the men had ringed themselves with the fallen undead, a miniature wall three bodies high. All were scratched and bruised, save Hasda, but none fell.


    They moved on.


    Deeper in, the mortals found their first sign of the missing animals.Face rigid, Hasda drew his bow and sighted a tree. Something rustled the leaves, a dark shape jumping from branch to branch. Hasda¡¯s arrow went wide as the twisted creature shot off.


    It was a bird.


    What was left of one, anyways. While the foliage made it hard to see clearly, what did show revealed bent wings and partial plumage that should¡¯ve left it unable to fly. Somehow it managed, and in a breath it had disappeared in the distance, heading towards the town the Stitcher held.


    Sighing, Hasda slipped his bow back in the quiver and led his men onwards.


    As morning slid away, the sun struggled towards its zenith. Shadows clung to the forest, blacker than late morning shade should have been. No corrupted wildlife showed itself for a few more hours yet, not until the mortals were stumbling from weariness and foregone sleep.


    A stream burbled, shielded by thick underbrush. Its soft babbling felt unnatural, breaking the silence of the forest. And it hid the anticipation of violence.


    When Hasda and his men passed beneath a particularly dense canopy, a flock of undead birds fell like an avalanche of acorns upon them. The monstrosities were mottled with missing feathers and twisted limbs like the scout before them, their cries sounding as if pushed through drowned waterskins. With glassy eyes and clouded skin they pecked and clawed. The barrage lasted only a few minutes before the birds had wasted their energy and lay panting in bloody piles around the men. Soon even this pantomime ceased, and the zombie fowls lay lifeless.


    Though the attack had ended, the fight had not. The wounds inflicted by the birds puckered on the mortals, the gashes trickling blood and turning purple at the edges. Hasda was drenched in sweat but, unlike his men, remained standing. The rest of the mortals collapsed on the ground, some face planting into the rotting birds.


    It was hard to watch. Although this was Hasda¡¯s Trial, it felt as much mine, having to withhold my hand and just observe. He struggled against whatever toxin had laced the beaks and claws of the birds, digging something out of his pouch as his companions groaned on the ground. His hair clung to his skull, as wet as if he¡¯d just washed. It was a testament to his growing strength as a demigod that he resisted the poison so well.


    But that didn¡¯t make it any easier staying beneath the Veil.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Stumbling with bag in hand, Hasda disappeared into the underbrush, practically diving into the hidden stream. After a moment, he crawled back out, shaking a half-full vial with a mixture of¡­ambrosia? And particle-filled creek water. A healthy glow had already returned to his face, so he must have eaten some of the ambrosia. But where did he get it from?


    ¡°Did you give that to him?¡± Kydon asked.


    Hasda staggered over to the nearest of his men and collapsed to his knees. Pouring out a small handful of the mixture, he began smearing it over the man¡¯s wounds. A few quick passes, and he moved on to the next.


    I shook my head. ¡°Malia and I have only ever given him diluted ambrosia. That looks pure to me. Or at least what he started with was.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s thinned it enough,¡± Kydon rumbled. ¡°It might heal the wounds, but those mortals will suffer for it later.¡±


    ¡°He knows that. We¡¯ve explained the dangers of ambrosia to an unprepared mortal many times.¡± Sighing, I folded my arms and watched as he went from warrior to warrior, splashing and smearing his healing concoction on their wounds.


    Watching.


    It took mere minutes for the watered down ambrosia to take effect. The men, save one, sat up sporting thick scars of blackened tissue that didn¡¯t bend with their movement. But the one who remained on the ground gripped Hasda¡¯s forearm and gasped words too faint for us to hear.


    When the man released his hold, his arm fell limply to the ground. Hasda looked sad as he rose and surveyed the rest of his suffering soldiers. Folding his arms, he said, ¡°Dad, could you come here?¡±


    With a frown I tossed off the Veil and strode over. Kydon followed, but lumbered over to the pile of wasted birds and picked through the carcases.


    Hasda¡¯s eyes remained on the fallen warrior. ¡°Massan isn¡¯t going to make it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that.¡± I patted his shoulder as I settled next to him. ¡°But you need to know that those black scars from your, er, improvised salve mean those men aren¡¯t long for this world, either. Even if you¡¯d given them a tenth of the ambrosia you did, they weren¡¯t prepared for it, and it¡¯s going to burn through them in perhaps a month¡¯s time.¡±


    He let out a heavy sigh. ¡°I was afraid of that. But they didn¡¯t have much time.¡± Shaking his head, he gestured at the still prone Massan. ¡°As fast as I went, he still didn¡¯t make it.¡±


    ¡°You did the best you could.¡± Squeezing his shoulder, I smiled. ¡°Thanks to you, they¡¯ll see dozens of days they otherwise wouldn¡¯t have.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°I have a request, and I¡¯d appreciate your advice, as well.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°Can you carry Massan back to the river?¡± Hasda¡¯s face pinched. ¡°I told him you were a God of Death, but he wants to be sent to Frijorro when he passes. If his body is sent downriver, his spirit will follow, and Frijorro will receive both when the river brings them to her.¡±


    I glanced at Kydon, who was still engrossed with the motionless undead. A trip back to the river wouldn¡¯t keep me more than a day, but I still didn¡¯t want to leave Hasda for too long. I¡¯d spent too much time away from him the first two Trials, and I wanted to remain close for this final one.


    He must have sensed my hesitation. ¡°I would do it myself, but I don¡¯t think¡­I don¡¯t think I can. My men certainly can¡¯t.¡± His face looked troubled. ¡°There was something in that poison, something that tugs us towards the heart of the forest. At first, Saran shielded me from most of it, and I think the ambrosia severed the connection, but for them¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°Tyvas says it¡¯s gone, and Dionin, but I¡¯m afraid they¡¯re just putting on a brave face. Massan still feels it, and he¡¯s worried it won¡¯t end in death. So am I.¡±


    ¡°What, that he¡¯ll become Sleepless?¡± I frowned. We still didn¡¯t know how the Stitcher operated. It was certainly possible that the Stitcher needed some way to tie the dead to him, which would explain why none who¡¯d fallen driving off the Sleepless had themselves turned. But if it was the poison, then it could be resisted or defeated. If only we had the time to study it before the final confrontation.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Hasda¡¯s hand twitched towards his sword. ¡°When the poison first hit, before Saran blocked it, I could feel a direct connection to the Stitcher. His pull is really strong. And, I think he¡¯s expecting us now. Thrax might not be enough of a distraction.¡±


    ¡°Then he¡¯ll just have to be enough of a threat.¡± I gave him a reassuring smile. ¡°You¡¯ve done fantastic so far. You¡¯ll succeed in the end, no matter if the Stitcher is prepared. Now, what did you need advice on?¡±


    ¡°Those.¡± He jerked his head towards the pile of rotten feathers. ¡°How do we deal with them? If the Stitcher is using birds now, what¡¯s to say he won¡¯t send other animals? I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed how empty the forest is as well.¡±


    ¡°I have.¡± I frowned. ¡°How much ambrosia did Malia give you?¡±


    His ears pinked a little. ¡°Uh, well¡­I used all of it in the salve. All that was left of it, anyways.¡±


    I arched a brow at him. ¡°And where did you get it?¡±


    ¡°Jade gave it to me.¡± Now his ears were completely red.


    Grunting, I patted his shoulder. ¡°At least you had the sense to water it down. Well, even if you had more, I don¡¯t think your trick would save your men twice. The next time they touch ambrosia, it might actually kill them.¡± I turned to Kydon. ¡°Figured out their mechanism yet?¡±

 Chapter 124: The River

    The half-troll¡¯s grimace wrinkled his face. ¡°They¡¯re extremely crude. Even worse than the Sleepless. If I had a freshly dead bird and a drop of the Stitcher¡¯s magic, I could probably replicate it.¡±


    ¡°Any way to stop them? Any weak points?¡± Dropping my hand from Hasda¡¯s shoulder, I walked over to where the arbiter crouched. ¡°Is the technique only avian? Hasda suspects it could be used on other animals.¡±


    ¡°It could indeed.¡± The ogre¡¯s lips pursed. ¡°Charax, I think you need to be prepared for Hasda to fail this Trial. If the Stitcher has more of these, and he likely does, there¡¯s a very good chance that your boy can¡¯t make it past all of them without divine intervention.¡± He lifted a hand and counted off on his fingers. ¡°He can¡¯t burn the whole forest down or carve a direct path. Perhaps with the djinn¡¯s fire, but then that would draw the Stitcher¡¯s eye. He has no magic or way of warding himself against such small creatures, to say nothing of protecting his men, which I¡¯m sure he wants to do. He can¡¯t even detect them, at least not that we¡¯ve seen. You might, now that you know to watch for them, but you know the rules.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°And what of the dying man? Am I able to take him to the river to die?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡± Kydon waved his hand dismissively before diving back into the birds. ¡°It sounded as if Hasda was merely relaying a request by the mortal. Though it indirectly helps Hasda advance his Trial by freeing him to move forward, it¡¯s not direct interference.¡±


    ¡°Ah, so I can advise him against certain trees and pitfalls, but not explicitly tell him that zombie birds or rodents are waiting to ambush him.¡±


    Kydon narrowed his eyes at my grin. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that you¡¯ve picked up your bad habits from Malia again. No, you cannot.¡±


    ¡°Hasda, when the birds attacked, did they say anything?¡±


    He frowned. ¡°Not really. They screamed hatred¡ªclaw, scratch, peck, but nothing coherent. A lot like the Sleepless, in that regard.¡±


    I rubbed my face. ¡°Kydon says their commands are rudimentary at best. Do you think the birds retained enough intelligence to understand new orders?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I can try. Do they have any weak points we could exploit?¡±


    Kydon shook his head. ¡°No different than normal birds, I¡¯m afraid. The bindings used by  the Stitcher give them merely enough energy to carry out their attacks. Your father knows more about necromancy than I.¡±


    ¡°Which our pantheon does precious little of.¡± I sighed. ¡°If we had a god dedicated to the craft, they might know a way to unravel the Stitcher¡¯s magic from a distance. But I suspect such a method wouldn¡¯t work to prevent an ambush. Even with simple wards, you need to know they¡¯re there to try dissolving them. A blanket disenchantment could have unintended consequences.¡±


    The man at Hasda¡¯s feet coughed and spluttered.


    ¡°We should get moving.¡± Eyes tight, Hasda knelt down to lift the man and carry him to me. ¡°Please hurry. We¡¯ll try not to outdistance you too much, but we need to reach the Stitcher before we lose too many more.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on the boy while you¡¯re gone,¡± Kydon rumbled. ¡°And I know you and Malia still want him. If it looks like he¡¯ll be lost, I¡¯ll extract him and end the Trial. But I¡¯ll leave him a fighting chance before I do.¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Nodding, I took Hasda¡¯s warrior into my arms. ¡°Stay safe. I¡¯ll be back soon.¡±


    And with that, I turned and backtracked towards the river. Kydon was dependable, and fair. If he said he¡¯d get Hasda out if things soured, then Hasda would be waiting safe and whole in Nebesa when I returned.


    But I wouldn¡¯t be gone long enough for that to happen.


    My strides lengthened as I retraversed our path. Not only because I wanted to return to Hasda soon, but also because this Massan had the feeblest of holds on life. His sweat-soaked skin was waxy, and his limbs had stiffened. Were it not for his feathery pulse and shaky breaths, it would have been easy to mistake him for one already gone.


    Carrying this mortal, it was hard not to think of Hasda. I hadn¡¯t held any other human like this in a long time, not since Hasda in his teens had nearly broken his leg falling through a rotten log he thought would hold his weight. Life was a fleeting thing, and those beneath death¡¯s shadow seemed intent on rushing to find its caster.


    This ambush also served as a reminder that Hasda was closer to immortality than before, but hadn¡¯t yet reached the stage where even he could consume unadulterated ambrosia and climb the steps of divinity. Perhaps glory from his future exploits as the Carthian hero, his godly upbringing, or his ties to Jade¡ªwhom I suspected gave him that stash of ambrosia, given that Malia would never have used such a flash¡ªwould drag him up, but his feet were still firmly planted on the mortal plane.


    And the men he led now, and the army soon to follow, lay even lower. They practically made their bed in their graves for how near their demise followed. Even the brightest would gutter out to leave, at best, an ash stain on history.


    Such morbid thoughts serenaded me against the silence of the forest, a symphony that climaxed at our arrival at the river. The voice of the current added its thoughts on finality to the chorus that contemplated an end to life. Here in its waters, one more would be swept away by the physical analog to time¡¯s best metaphor.


    Massan had been quiet the whole journey. Not even a whimper from an uneven step, no requests for water or pleas for an extension to his existence. When we reached the riverbank, he barely opened his eyes. But he was grinning as I lowered him into the dark waters, and used his last breath to whisper his thanks.


    I felt no connection to this blade of grass, snapped by the fingers of a death god who wasn¡¯t me. And yet there was a weight to his passing, the shadow of Hasda¡¯s care for those under his wing. Although I would hurry on my return, I couldn¡¯t help but wait in the tall grass and watch as the man¡¯s body floated away.


    As his body drifted downriver, it bobbed until it lay face first in the water. Milky strands fanned like fronds from his arms and legs, spreading until it covered his body like a funeral shroud. When it had congealed to almost opaque, his spirit leaped out, diving ahead of the corpse, connected only by a thin, spidery thread. The man¡¯s soul was strangely egg shaped, though translucent, like the ribbony wisps clinging to the body.


    To greet the psychopomp, the river glowed with pale light, as if a dozen white-fired lamps had been lit beneath it. The water stayed calm, however, as gentle as when it had received the corpse. As the body grew more distant, the glow receded. By the time the man¡¯s remains had passed the first bend, the river had dimmed.


    Although I could still feel the soul tugging against its charge, I turned to go. The body had passed out of sight, and the request had been fulfilled.


    It hadn¡¯t even taken half a day.


    My stride took me back among the trees and away from uncomfortable contemplation. This was Hasda¡¯s final Trial, and already he was losing men. But I had trained him well, and¡ª


    Something rustled in the underbrush.


    By the time I registered the movement, I¡¯d already put a good distance between me and it. I wasn¡¯t going back, but it was certainly in the back of my mind.


    Life.


    There was life in the forest.


    I dodged around a tree that snuck in my way. Whatever had been back there, it wasn¡¯t undead. Not quite a deer, maybe not even a wolf, but big enough to be sure it wasn¡¯t the Sleepless, or more of those rotten birds. But certainly an animal. Maybe a fox? Assuming they were native to the Strixenvaas.


    My mind raced with the implications. An animal, in a forest that had been bare of lifesigns for so long. If something had driven the animals away, perhaps it was gone, and now they were returning. Or maybe our presence provided a safety from the Sleepless that allowed them to come out of hiding in our wake.


    Halfway back, I heard another. This time, I stopped long enough to scan the underbrush. As soon as I paused, however, the rustling ceased. Frowning, I resumed my lengthened stride. There was certainly something out there, but it had no aura, and I didn¡¯t have time to go rooting around in the bushes to find it. I did catch a glimpse of tawny fur when I glanced over my shoulder.


    A jackal? Certainly an ordinary animal, nowhere near the size nor weight for it to be divine. But was it tailing me, or were there more than one?


    It didn¡¯t matter. Once I got back to Hasda and made sure he was okay, then I would worry about a jackal, or jackals. I had a bad feeling in my gut, like the onset of a stomach ache. Not just because the Stitcher was finally starting to put up resistance, but also because the Sybil and her Sisters had been quiet thus far. At least one of their four had shown herself each Trial, and they¡¯d been markedly absent.


    Coupled with Phe¡¯s unknown message to Kydon, it had my insides churning leaving Hasda out of sight for so long.


    I hurried.

 Chapter 125: The Rats

    I saw no signs of the supposed jackals after that, although I paid closer attention to the underbrush as I passed. It didn¡¯t take long to catch up to Hasda and his crew. Evening had bled into the sky by the time I found them, huddled around a particularly thick trunk, Kydon a stone¡¯s throw away under his Veil. He grunted a greeting as I approached.


    ¡°Your boy says there¡¯s an animal nearby.¡± Kydon twitched his chin towards Hasda, who stood facing the tree, unlike his men, who¡¯d slumped around it with their backs to the bark.


    ¡°Jackals?¡± I asked, settling next to the arbiter.


    He shook his head. ¡°No jackals I¡¯ve ever seen small enough to fit under those roots. Some kind of rodent, he thinks.¡±


    ¡°Any trouble while I was gone?¡±


    Another shake. ¡°No undead, human or otherwise. The men seem to be holding up well, but Hasda¡¯s not pushing them.¡± The half-ogre sighed. ¡°I¡¯m no death god, but I wouldn¡¯t wager they have much time left to them. They¡¯re bleeding around those blackened scabs, and it¡¯s only gotten worse as the day progressed.¡±


    Hasda tilted his head, a funny look on his face. Crouching down, he turned his ear towards the exposed roots.


    I scanned the squatting men nearest him. Sure enough, many were leaking fluids around the sores, the one closest to Hasda with ghostly skin. Perhaps the ambrosia had taken a greater toll than I¡¯d first realized, or perhaps it hadn¡¯t fully cleansed the poison, as it would have for those who could handle the substance. Whatever the case, Hasda¡¯s men had gone from being able to weather a march to the heart of the forest, to potentially leaving Hasda to go it alone in, at most, two days¡¯ time.


    When I told Kydon as much, he nodded. ¡°If you want your boy to succeed, it might be worth rejoining Malia and the mortals under her.¡± When I gave him a look, he scowled. ¡°I¡¯m saying this now so that, if you do, you have time enough to warn Malia of your approach and adjust your strategy accordingly. Should Hasda be pursued, it¡¯d be on the men he¡¯s joining, and only them, to see him safely to them. It¡¯d be a shame for Malia in surprise to disqualify him.¡±


    I frowned. That would be a problem, especially if Vythar had decided to spread his wings on their flank. But that was something we would handle if it became an issue.


    ¡°Dad, could you come here?¡± Hasda stood from his crouch and dusted his legs.


    Throwing off the Veil, I went next to him. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a rat under this tree who says his king can help with the undead animals.¡± He crossed his arms and tapped a foot. ¡°Unfortunately, they don¡¯t have anything that can help with the poison. I was hoping they¡¯d know a local herb that might stem the effects long enough to reach the Stitcher, but there isn¡¯t any.¡±


    ¡°They can help with the birds?¡±


    His brow scrunched. ¡°The rat says they can help with the land bound creatures, but the birds will be more problematic. Their king doesn¡¯t think there are as many turned birds as there are mice and squirrels, though.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°At least with the grounded ones covered, you¡¯ll only have to worry about the overhead branches.¡±


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Maybe.¡± He frowned. ¡°But there¡¯s a catch. The rat king says he¡¯s smelled you¡ªnot you, specifically, but the gods¡ªand he wants to be made divine as payment.¡±


    Scowling, I stared down at the dirt clumped around the roots, but the only hole I saw was void of rodents. For such a small creature, their king sure had ambition.


    ¡°Can you do that?¡± Hasda asked. ¡°I¡¯d have to petition you for the request, and even then I¡¯m not sure the rules of the Trial would allow it.¡±


    ¡°Kydon could probably be convinced, if I set you a separate task in exchange for the boon.¡± I rubbed my neck. ¡°But we can¡¯t just make an animal a god. The best we could do would be raising it to the level of a divine beast, which has its own set of issues.¡±


    Hasda frowned. ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no guarantee that this rat king¡¯s mind could handle such a transformation.¡± I mimicked his folded arms. ¡°Given how lofty its goals are, would it risk its aspirations over forgetting them? Or even itself? There are often legends surrounding divine beasts that help anchor them, so they don¡¯t lose themselves to time, insanity, or their own powers. Further, most divine beasts are naturally so. For us to force the process on it, there¡¯s no telling that the outcome would be to its liking, or living. This rat king needs to weigh the consequences, and be sure of its desires.¡±


    Hasda knelt to relay the risks. Squeaks and chitters rose in response, ending in a flurry of skittering after Hasda had finished. Rising, Hasda heaved a sigh.


    ¡°He says he will inform the king, and return with an answer by tomorrow afternoon.¡± He wiped at the sweat on his forehead. ¡°I told him we had to press on, and he said he would find us.¡±


    ¡°Did you promise him his reward?¡±


    Hasda shook his head. ¡°I told the emissary that we would need to know his answer before seeking boons from the gods. There¡¯s no point in beginning the process if he decides on something else.¡±


    Stepping back, I surveyed his men. ¡°This rat king will need to help on the promise of a later reward. Not only can your soldiers not afford to wait, but we don¡¯t know the local area well enough to assign you a task here. Assuming Kydon will even accede to such a payment, you¡¯d have to finish the Trial and then begin the task.¡±


    The air rippled as the half troll came out from the Veil. ¡°I agree that Hasda must press on. But the petition must be made to a god that¡¯s neither you nor Malia.¡± Wrinkles creased his forehead and contorted his scarred face as he frowned. ¡°Even if payment is made for the assistance, the boon coming from your patrons would be direct interference on their part.¡± He scratched his head. ¡°Perhaps others in the pantheon could accommodate your request, but I cannot. Thus, you must not only secure this rat king¡¯s help with the promise of divinity, but also the uncertainty that you may be unable to secure his reward at all.¡±


    My palms itched. ¡°Who could imbue partial divinity though? Malia is his best bet. I¡¯m not even sure I could, and none of our other gods focused in husbandry. Vrixia comes the closest in that regard, but she cares more about the harvest than the tools used to carry it out. Resef as well.¡±


    ¡°Troublesome, indeed,¡± Kydon rumbled. ¡°Hasda has several options, not many of which I see him being willing to take.¡±


    Hasda straightened. ¡°If I make a vow with him, I will uphold my word.¡±


    ¡°Which precludes misrepresenting your offer, abandoning the rats afterwards, or killing them,¡± Kydon said, nodding. ¡°Thus, even if the rat is willing to risk himself, he must also accept that it is a flimsy chance it will come to fruition. That, or you must convince him of another offer, though what else a rat could want I have no idea.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what Malia has to say. Maybe she¡¯ll find something we missed.¡± I gave our bond a gentle tug. Slight annoyance, but security and calm as well, shivered across the connection.


    ¡°As before, so again. I¡¯ll retrieve your boy if he fails.¡± The half-troll turned to Hasda and gave him a serious look. ¡°But this assurance is for your life alone. I cannot guarantee that you will be saved in one piece, since I don¡¯t want to remove you from the Trial before you¡¯ve exhausted absolutely every possibility.¡±


    Hasda dipped his head. ¡°You have my thanks.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be in good hands while I¡¯m gone.¡± I patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Keep an eye out for jackals as well. It could be a good sign that scavengers are returning to the forest, since they often clear the way for life to return. But they¡¯re not going to understand that your men don¡¯t need purging as well.¡±


    His eyebrows scrunched as he glanced at his men. ¡°If they survive long enough for me to retrieve the Staff, you can heal them, right?¡±


    ¡°As soon as you hold the Staff in hand,¡± Kydon rumbled, ¡°Charax is free to aid however he wishes.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll just have to finish as soon as possible.¡± He laughed. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll be done before you get back.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t rush in recklessly. I¡¯d rather you not be among the souls I carry to Peklo.¡± Giving his shoulder a final squeeze, I turned and tugged open a portal. I wasn¡¯t sure whether it was a good sign that the land¡¯s magic lent itself easily to opening a rend, but I was confident that the crimson tint to the outer edges wasn¡¯t due to being off Carthian soil.


    Kydon noticed as well. ¡°Has it ever done that before?¡±


    ¡°Never.¡± I shook my head. ¡°One more thing to talk with Malia about.¡±


    With a heavy sigh, I stepped through to my maas and snapped the portal shut behind me.

 Chapter 126: The Change

    The sight of the sandy-colored flagstones was a comfort I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d missed. Cushioning this was the reassuring babble of the fountain, a relaxing contrast to the hostile aura of Strixenvaas¡¯ tributaries. Strangely, the pavilion where I¡¯d recovered after fighting the Sea Mother still stood, its wispy curtains furling in the soft breeze.


    Malia¡¯s purple portal flared to life next to me, edges bleeding red.


    ¡°What¡¯s that look for?¡± Malia kissed my jaw as she slipped through.


    I jerked my head at her collapsing portal. ¡°When did yours start changing color?¡±


    ¡°Has yours begun shifting as well?¡± Her eyes flashed triumphant at my nod. ¡°Well, then that sounds like cause for celebration.¡±


    ¡°And which of your plans has come to fruition this time?¡±


    Smiling, she slid under my arm and pulled me towards the fountain. ¡°I had a feeling all we needed was a nudge.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± The fountain splashed our backs as we settled on the ledge. ¡°Nudging us towards what?¡±


    She giggled. ¡°Notice anything unusual about your astral projection?¡±


    ¡°So you cleared Tamiyat¡¯s toxins from that plane?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± That turned her grin to a pout. ¡°She likely hasn¡¯t involved herself above Curnerein long enough to have infected its correlative region. But that wasn¡¯t what I was getting at.¡±


    I arched a brow. ¡°Must I guess?¡±


    Another pout. ¡°Well, it¡¯s less fun if I just tell you.¡±


    ¡°While we do have extended time in the maas, the more we take advantage of that, the further away Hasda can get.¡± I rubbed her shoulder. ¡°And his men aren¡¯t going to last much longer. So while I normally enjoy your surprises, there isn¡¯t enough time to enjoy them right now.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t call me here for some fun? Dick.¡± Her wing lightly bapped the back of my head. ¡°Our continued conflict with the Sea Mother is strengthening our astral forms. By the time we discover a way to bind her, we should be able to match her as Titans.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°So we¡¯ll have astral portals?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a thought.¡± She hummed thoughtfully as she nestled closer. ¡°I¡¯ll have to test that theory next time.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of theories.¡± Gently I shifted her around to pull out the piece of rent barrier I¡¯d saved. ¡°Could we use this to create a Divine Veil?¡±


    Malia jerked upright and clasped the fabric.


    ¡°Now, hold on.¡± I gave her a look. ¡°This was designed to inhibit movement, not sight. But could we change its functionality?¡±


    Snake tongues flickering, she rubbed her thumbs across the material. ¡°Perhaps. But you¡¯ve given me another idea.¡± Eyes glittering, she looked at me with a mix of fervor and passion. ¡°You stupid, beautiful bastard. I knew I chose well, but how dare you one-up my gift giving.¡±


    I grinned. ¡°Are you going to tell me this new idea? Or is it a future surprise?¡±


    ¡°Astral barriers.¡± Her fangs pressed into her lower lip as she smiled. ¡°And, perhaps, an Astral Veil. Although, if Veils are tied to the plane below¡ªgiven the current one blocks us only from mortal view¡ªthen we¡¯d have to go above Titanic to make such a thing. But we could probably construct a Veil to shield us from other gods, once we¡¯ve solidified our astral forms.¡±


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I hugged her close. ¡°An astral barrier could be a way to keep the Sea Mother out of Carthia, if we can¡¯t confine her. But something tells me we¡¯ll need more than a wall for a long-term solution.¡±


    Slipping the shorn piece of barrier out of sight, she cuddled into my side. ¡°If you¡¯re not here for some us time, why did you call me?¡±


    ¡°Hasda¡¯s encountered some obstacles that have proved difficult.¡± I rubbed her shoulder. ¡°I was hoping you¡¯d have some suggestions.¡±


    ¡°Depends on the hazards.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°For starters, the Stitcher has started a battle of attrition. He ambushed Hasda and his men with a flock of undead birds, which have left all but our chosen in dire condition. Apparently, Jade gave him a stash of ambrosia, which he used to force healing on the men¡ªand yes, he diluted it¡ªbut it left the mortals on death¡¯s doorstep.¡±


    ¡°Abandon them.¡± Malia nuzzled my neck. ¡°I know he¡¯s as sentimental as his father, but they¡¯ll only slow him down. And he¡¯ll have a better time avoiding and answering ambushes alone.¡±


    I nudged her shoulder. ¡°We both know he won¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°Mmm, his stubbornness is also familiar.¡±


    Chuckling, I kissed her head. ¡°Hasda had found an ambitious family of rats, or perhaps they found him. Their self-proclaimed king has offered to assist with the undead animals at the cost of granting him divinity.¡± Briefly I related Kydon¡¯s stipulations, and my own concerns as to who could fulfill the request and what kind of task Hasda could complete in payment.


    Malia hummed against my chest as she listened. When I finished, she clicked her tongue. ¡°I don¡¯t know that I¡¯d want to raise a beast I couldn¡¯t control. And I don¡¯t like his scheming.¡± Shaking her head, she sighed and sagged against me. ¡°Those elvish shamans, the coilna, were among Vythar¡¯s retinue yesterday, though they broke away by evening. Perhaps they could work some magic that would satisfy the rat. If I see them again, I¡¯ll send them your way.¡±


    ¡°How has Vythar been conducting himself?¡±


    ¡°Besides harassing Thrax¡¯s flank and being an ass?¡± She looked up through her snakes and gave me one of her unsettling, predatory grins. ¡°It¡¯s been a fun dance intimidating him enough to have him keep his distance, but feigning weakness enough to encourage engagement.¡±


    ¡°That explains the annoyance.¡± Massaging her shoulder, I smile at her sudden frown. ¡°And the Sleepless?¡±


    ¡°Vythar has been useful in that regard, at least.¡± A self-satisfied smile split her lips. ¡°I¡¯ve diverted a few bands of undead into his lancers, and he¡¯s handled them easily. But the only hint he¡¯s given to his abilities is that he might have inherited his father¡¯s metal affinity. His right arm is entirely silver, although I haven¡¯t determined if it¡¯s sheathed or a simulacrum.¡±


    ¡°Is he the only deity in the vicinity?¡± I held her close as her wings flicked. ¡°The Weeping Queen¡¯s daughter appeared once, but she hasn¡¯t returned as of yet.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen Lazuli in the distance a few times, but never close enough to merit leaving Thrax behind.¡± She frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t like that the only indication we have of the Sea Mother is Lazuli¡¯s presence. The astral plane should be worse than it is if she¡¯s close, she¡¯s abandoned Lazuli more than once, and yet every instinct screams that she¡¯s waiting at the end of this Trial.¡±


    ¡°A bridge to burn when we find it.¡± I kissed the top of her head.


    ¡°The daughter still doesn¡¯t have a voice?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I thought I could hear something last time, but very faintly. It¡¯s like her spirit is fragmented among her willowisps.¡±


    ¡°Or she¡¯s yet to be born.¡± Malia slipped a hand into the fountain and let the water wash over her palm. ¡°It¡¯s not impossible that she¡¯s still developing, especially given the state of her parents¡¯ pantheon. With her father gone and her mother insane, she might have lost her mold.¡±


    ¡°And we should let her make her own, or wait for her mother,¡± I said, grinning at Malia¡¯s sullen look. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to leave the local pantheon intact, remember?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t fashion a burgeoning goddess in my image.¡±


    I tapped her nose. ¡°No, but just a moment ago you were worrying about a scheming rodent getting out of control. You want a divine pupil potentially matching you?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re no fun.¡± Withdrawing her hand, she flicked water at me before folding her arms and sagging against me. A little quieter, she said, ¡°Have you had any visions on this trip?¡±


    ¡°Thankfully, no. And may the fates remain ignorant of that remark.¡± I sighed. ¡°Did you ever figure out what Phe told Kydon about this Trial?¡±


    ¡°Not yet. Oh, which reminds me.¡± Wings flapping, she scooted upright. ¡°There¡¯s a rider among Vythar¡¯s troop that is distinctly non-Elthiian. From his garb, I suspect he¡¯s Paeden, but he¡¯s not divine.¡±


    ¡°A Paeden, all the way out here?¡± I frowned.


    Snakes hissing, she nodded. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to spook the little godling, getting too close. But from the foreigner¡¯s proximity to Vythar, and the way the lancers respect him, he¡¯s either a significant mortal or one of those demigod mages Marudak favors.¡±


    And where Apkalla were, Paeden deities seemed to follow.


    Malia snapped her wings and hissed. ¡°I could find out why he¡¯s in the region, but that would mean stalling Thrax¡¯s advance to capture him. And we can¡¯t fight mounted soldiers while protecting our flank from the undead.¡±


    ¡°Which means leaving your curiosity to burn unfulfilled.¡±


    ¡°My favorite.¡± She flashed an insincere smile.


    We sat in silence for a bit.


    Rubbing her shoulder, I said, ¡°Oh, one last thing, before I head back.¡±


    She held up her hand. ¡°Two, but you may say your peace first.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°All right. How is the wildlife in your region of the forest?¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Her eyebrows scrunched together. ¡°I hadn¡¯t been watching for them, but I also can¡¯t recall seeing any.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Watch out for jackals. I haven¡¯t gotten a clear look at the ones I¡¯ve seen, but my gut doesn¡¯t like the way they were moving. Not migration patterns, and not really any sensible reason for them to be where they were. For scavengers, it was strange they avoided the piles of undead Hasda left behind.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind. Now.¡± Burying her hand in my robes, she tugged me close. ¡°Time¡¯s been stretched, so I don¡¯t want to hear any excuses. I will be satisfied before you leave.¡±


    I grunted as our lips met. She could be very persuasive sometimes, and she was right. Hasda wouldn¡¯t get that far before I returned.


    And Kydon was there. Hasda was safe.


    ¡°Stop thinking so hard and kiss me, asshole.¡±


    As you wish.

 Chapter 127: The Rat

    We gave ourselves a moment to rest beneath the fountain spray. Malia hummed in content, an arm over my chest and a wing sheltering us from the sourceless light of my maas.


    I kissed the top of her head. ¡°So you think Hasda should press on.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡± She let out a happy sigh.


    ¡°What if the rat is no help?¡±


    ¡°Promise him whatever he wants. If it can¡¯t be done, I¡¯ll take care of it.¡± Her slitted eyes regarded me above a sly grin.


    I tried not to frown. ¡°You know Hasda won¡¯t like that.¡±


    ¡°Which is precisely why he won¡¯t know when it¡¯s been handled.¡± Malia sighed. ¡°He was raised as a soldier, not a politician, and even then he struggles enough with subterfuge and underhanded tactics. It¡¯s not his fault he can only stomach certain decisions, sacrifice men who¡¯ve sworn themselves to him and who willingly pay the cost. So I won¡¯t burden him with things he can¡¯t bear.¡±


    ¡°While you might be right, for his sake, I¡¯d like to give a good faith effort.¡±


    ¡°If we must.¡± Sighing with much less enthusiasm, she drummed her fingers on my chest. ¡°This rat, he might be convinced to take a lesser gift.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll need to meet with him and discover his motivations.¡± Her fingernails traced circles on my skin. ¡°If it¡¯s power he wants, perhaps granting him an empowered body would be enough. Longer limbs, articulate thumbs, useful things that other rats lack. Or perhaps something like the gift of human speech, if he desires influence and respect. I can¡¯t imagine he wants riches, although if it¡¯s a strong line of heirs¡­Tarrha could craft him a suitable harem.¡±


    I chuckled.


    Malia smiled as well. ¡°She¡¯d certainly take no convincing. ¡®Bestow upon these rodents the strongest aphrodisiacs you can muster, and the greatest fertility they can bear.¡¯ I¡¯ve heard mice are her favorite.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you do the talking, then, when the time comes. You have such a way with words.¡±


    ¡°Among other things.¡± Her eyes flashed.


    I poked her nose. ¡°None of that, now. I need to get back to Hasda before he makes promises he can¡¯t keep, or finishes the Trial without us.¡±


    Pulling her wing back, she sighed and stretched. ¡°As dowsing water to a flame, so are your words to my heart. Very well, my love, let us depart.¡±


    I watched her back as she rose, half admiring the way her muscles rippled and half wary. ¡°I have a feeling I¡¯ll be paying my own tribute later.¡±


    ¡°You have the right of it.¡± She grinned over her shoulder. ¡°And I¡¯ll have plenty of time to think of proper recompense.¡±


    Grunting, I pulled myself up by the fountain ledge.


    Her portal, still trimmed in crimson, hissed open. ¡°I¡¯ll try to keep Thrax from outpacing Hasda. But I might have to confront Vythar, if we¡¯re forced to delay long enough. So make sure Hasda has a fallback in case he has to go it alone.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°That reminds me.¡± Tugging my own portal open, I shook my head. ¡°Kydon said that, were Hasda to rejoin Thrax, you would need to withdraw, else the Trial is void.¡±


    ¡°Did he now?¡± Lips pursed, Malia halted halfway through. ¡°And if I take on Vythar by myself?¡±


    I frowned. ¡°I can¡¯t see why not, given that he¡¯s neither Carthian nor directly involved with the Trial.¡±


    Malia nodded. ¡°Then warn me if Hasda is coming, and I¡¯ll break off to deal with the Elthiians.¡±


    And with that, she slipped through her portal, pulling it shut behind her.


    My own portal spit me back into the woods, an early morning chill coating the empty space where Hasda and his men had camped. Tracks, and Kydon¡¯s presence, pointed north, not too far distant. A few lengthened stride caught me up to them easily.


    ¡°Perfect timing, actually.¡± Hasda rose from a crouch as I slowed. ¡°The rat king wants to meet with us. His emissary will show us the way to his cave.¡±


    ¡°You all go ahead,¡± one of his men said. ¡°I¡¯ll scout the river.¡±


    Hasda¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± The man forced a smile. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    Frowning, Hasda shook his head. ¡°Well, if you think it¡¯s best, Miyidh.¡±


    The man nodded, saluted, and set off southward.


    ¡°Do you want me to accompany him?¡± I asked. Not that I wanted to, but Hasda had asked before, and I would go if he needed.


    He shook his head. ¡°We talked about it last night. If the pull becomes too strong, they¡¯ll carry themselves back. Massan was too weak to do it himself.¡± He huffed a laugh. ¡°We¡¯ll give them that much dignity, at least.¡±


    A chitter at his feet caused him to sidestep.


    ¡°The one I spoke of has returned,¡± he said, kneeling. ¡°Give us a moment to gather our things, and we¡¯ll follow you to the cave.¡±


    Once they were ready, Hasda and his men trailed behind the black-furred rat that appeared to lead them. I slipped under the Veil with Kydon, but kept a close distance to Hasda. Scampering like a beast alight, the rat led them on a twisting path through tangled underbrush.


    The rat led them at a western slant, angling away from the center of the woods. It was odd, hearing the rustle of the underbrush and the scratching of the rat¡¯s feet in a forest once suffocated by silence. Strangely, they also went unscathed by undead ambush, both animal and Sleepless.


    When they¡¯d been traveling for perhaps an hour, they came upon a mound of rotting flesh, swarmed by flies. The lumpy brown pile was composed of decaying mice, their eyes yellowed not by death, but undeath. When the rat neared the pile, it sat on its haunches and chittered at Hasda for a bit before continuing on. His men, of which six remained, asked him what the rat had said, and Hasda relayed that the rodents had cleared a potential ambush as a ¡°sign of good faith.¡±


    I frowned. If the rat king was willing to exert himself this much already, he must be extremely confident in both our ability to bequeath him divinity, and his own to handle it. Kydon mentioned the same, and laughed when I told him that Malia thought the coilna might prove a sufficient substitute with their sorcery. But he didn¡¯t deny it as a possibility, so if we could convince them¡ªand the rat accepted¡ªthen we had a route to success.


    Time crept by at a wearied pace. As afternoon ushered Ulti past the zenith of the sky, the rat finally led Hasda to their destination: a recess that passed for a cave in the side of a short hill. A stout oak cloaked the entrance, its leaves serving as curtain and its roots as supports. With a quick twitter, the rat disappeared inside.


    After a short moment, the rat returned and chattered at Hasda.


    ¡°Dad, are you able to join us?¡± Hasda called. ¡°The rat king has granted us an audience. His herald says the recess is deeper than it looks.


    And so it was. I dropped the Veil and joined Hasda, who pushed the low-hanging branches out of the way. Behind the natural screen, the hollow dipped, creating a series of ledges that led under the hillside. Hasda dropped down, following as the rat scurried into the darkness. He had to hunch, more scooting along on his knees than walking, but he made it in nevertheless.


    I had it worse. Although I stooped, my back scraped the ceiling and knocked showers of dirt down my robes. Occasionally, the uneven surface predicted my advance and dropped clumps into my eyes.


    Thankfully, the bowl that served as the rat king¡¯s throne room wasn¡¯t far. The stretch to reach it was perhaps a spear length, a distance that was barely anything walked normally but felt far longer, cramped as we were. Shafts of light which shouldn¡¯t have been there illuminated the space, the sunshine coming from camouflaged openings.


    Even with the beams to trace their source,  I couldn¡¯t spot the holes, though Hasda blocking most of my view didn¡¯t help. The concealment had the feel of magic, though not the smell. Rich, earthy scents filled the air, masking Hasda¡¯s sweat. He¡¯d stopped, leaving me just enough space to his left to get a view of the room¡ª


    When I saw the rat king, I paused.


    Not only was it the fattest rat I¡¯d ever seen, but it was also the wildest. Nestled into a bleached bear skull, which served as its throne, it wielded a sharpened ivory claw like a scepter. Or perhaps a sword. The proportions were right for that.


    While its feet rested on the canines, its tail wended through the nostril cavity. Tied to this tallow-hued tail was a knot of smaller ones, which were still attached to their living owners. Five rats, one brown, two black, a gray, and a white, comprised the knotted rodents, who gnawed at a flesh-flecked bone of unknown origin.


    All put together, the bound rats were only slightly larger than the rat seated in the skull. They seemed unperturbed by their fate, and the rat upon its throne put on airs, as if it were not confined to the bone by the animals ensnared in its tail. The rat king even seemed to smile as it saw Hasda. When it noticed me, however, its eyes gleamed in a way that reminded me of Malia.


    Oh, I did not like that.

 Chapter 128: The Sukalla

    Its smile set off another reaction in me. The more I stared at the rat, the harder it became to tell what color its fur was. At first I¡¯d thought it gray, but then it looked black, and the moment I looked away I thought it¡¯d been brown. But when I glanced back, it appeared white, or tinged yellow, like the ivory claw it wielded.


    ¡°Hasda, what color is the rat?¡± I stared down its smile.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± He knelt silently for a moment. ¡°Which rat?¡±


    ¡°The one in the skull.¡± At this point, it had decided that our staring contest determined dominance. I wasn¡¯t one to lose.


    He hummed and shifted, but didn¡¯t answer. Finally, he said, ¡°That¡¯s strange. I can¡¯t tell.¡±


    I let a little of my aura slip out, but the rat would not be cowed. Just as frustrating, my power didn¡¯t seem to wrangle its coat into a single, meaningful color, either. I growled. ¡°Like you can¡¯t keep it straight?¡±


    ¡°And I can¡¯t remember once I close my eyes.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Is it an illusion?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps not.¡± I leaned closer to the rodent and bared my teeth. That finally made it flinch. ¡°I¡¯m not here to play games.¡±


    Tugging at its whiskers, the rat king chirped and chattered for a bit. When it fell silent, it looked to Hasda.


    ¡°He said he¡¯s satisfied,¡± Hasda translated. ¡°And he has no fear of the consequences of ascension. Any risk is worth godhood.¡±


    ¡°Whatever magic it has now will likely interfere with anything I would try.¡± I folded my arms. ¡°But for such a significant boon, the offering must carry similar significance.¡±


    Angry chitters, accompanied by expressive waving, exploded from the rat.


    ¡°He¡¯s insulted you scorn him and deem his current contributions so inconsequential.¡± Hasda shrugged. ¡°He questions whether you can actually supply what he seeks. And he wonders why, if you are so powerful, you neglect me and refuse to provide help yourself.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°If it cannot parse such a simple thing, then it has no hope of ever reaching godhood. Let¡¯s go, Hasda.¡±


    It chattered some more, and I detected a hint of desperation in its expression.


    Hasda frowned. ¡°He said he¡¯s been observing us. That he saw how the birds fell upon us, and no help came, yet you were there when the attack was over. And he¡¯s gathered that we wouldn¡¯t have accepted an audience with him if we didn¡¯t need his help. The mice were a demonstration that he is capable of protecting us from the undead animals.¡±


    ¡°Simple security from reanimated creatures?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Overcoming obstacles is a part of your Trial. Making it easier for you doesn¡¯t merit me tossing godhood around carelessly.¡±


    The rat tugged its whiskers again and chittered softly.


    Hasda watched the five tangled rats pick strands of muscle from the bone. ¡°He¡¯s right, though,¡± he said, meeting the rat king¡¯s eyes. ¡°He hasn¡¯t even offered me divinity, and he raised me. I¡¯ve finished two other tasks for him, yet even if I complete this one, that¡¯s not enough to become even a minor god.¡±


    Scowling, the rat chattered furiously and smacked the skull.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Hasda shook his head. ¡°I appreciate the help you¡¯ve provided thus far, and I would further appreciate anything else your rats can do, but I can¡¯t promise something I don¡¯t even have. You¡¯d have to convince him.¡±


    I held up a hand. ¡°A normal rat, I could perhaps be persuaded. But you¡¯ve already risen above the standard plot of rodent life and seen the plane from a higher peak. As you are, you would need to not only escort Hasda to his destination, but heal his men.¡±


    Chirping, the rat smoothed his whiskers repeatedly.


    ¡°He¡¯s already searched the forest,¡± Hasda translated. ¡°It is beyond his knowledge or ability to help with the poison that ails my men.¡±


    ¡°Time is wasting.¡± I sighed. ¡°Here is my offer. Ensure Hasda reaches the Stitcher safely, and I will see that you receive the gift of human speech. If more than half his men arrive alive as well, then I will set you on the path to become a divine beast. Given your current status, you could achieve it.¡±


    Nose twitching, the rat chittered.


    ¡°Is there no hope of becoming divine?¡± Hasda translated.


    I crossed my arms and stared down at the rat king. ¡°What need have you of being a deity? You¡¯re already well above a mere rat.¡±


    The rat spread its paws and squeaked and chattered for a good long while.


    ¡°The short version,¡± Hasda said, ¡°is that the loss of Balphar and his pantheon has left the land unprotected. Vartikh wants to be divine so he can ensure the safety of his rats.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s easier done as a divine beast than a full deity.¡± I frowned at the rat¡¯s glare. ¡°Gods have more responsibilities than just protecting animals they care about. No god is without human eyes upon them. While mortals don¡¯t necessitate a god, they enrich them. A god who forgoes followers, more often than not, gets lost to time.¡±


    The rat pondered for a moment. Scrubbing its claws on its fur, it chattered softly, as if talking to the ivory claw. After it had satisfied itself polishing its toes, it cheeped at Hasda.


    ¡°Becoming a divine beast is his best option?¡± Hasda translated.


    I nodded. ¡°It has a head start already. With mentorship, perhaps it could complete the path faster. But there¡¯s no guarantee that it will be able to reach its destination.¡± I sighed. ¡°Divine beasts are finicky things. I can put the rat in the best position to transform itself, but it¡¯s possible that the transition is even less probable than full divinity. But divine beasts are wild things, with no attachments. This¡­Vartikh could devote itself fully to warding its rodents, if that¡¯s what it wished.¡±


    The rat tugged at its whiskers. Finally, it nodded its head and chittered at Hasda.


    ¡°If that¡¯s the best option¡ª¡±


    A barking cry interrupted Hasda.


    Slinking under the leaves came a creature too bulky to be a jackal proper, especially given the three bushy tails bobbing from her behind. Golden brown fur was interrupted by a bright, white patch on her chest, and black fur competed for dominance on her sides and tails. Tall ears cupped sound above yellow, piercing eyes.


    There was something odd about her, beyond her bulk and duplicate tails, but it wasn¡¯t quite divine. Although she had an aura, it lacked the weight of something greater. A weird limbo that I couldn¡¯t quite place. As Hasda and I shuffled away from her, I held my hand ready to summon my Sword.


    When she saw the rat king, she growled.


    ¡°She¡¯s been searching for him,¡± Hasda translated.


    As soon as he spoke, her eyes snapped onto his. ¡°You can understand me?¡±


    It was weird hearing words come out of that canine mouth. My Sword, shortened to keep out of sight, slipped into my palm. ¡°And you can talk.¡±


    ¡°Naturally.¡± She shot me a condescending look, then wrinkled her nose as if scenting something sour. ¡°You stink, god.¡± Sneezing, she shook her head. ¡°Too much blood.¡±


    Susurrations trickled from the walls as rats revealed hideaways they¡¯d concealed themselves in. At least two dozen rats, browns and blacks, clung to the dirt interior. The throne room, already cramped, was becoming positively crowded.


    I shifted, getting my feet under me, as awkward as it was. ¡°Who are you? You¡¯re not native to Curnerein, and you¡¯re not divine. Yet you can smell not only my aura but my history.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the nose.¡± She sneezed again. ¡°As for who I am, an exchange of identities would seem in order, would it not? Given that you are also foreign on this soil. And your¡­¡± Her eyes narrowed. Then she yelped, jumping back. ¡°Tuzshu? Again? It has been so long since you walked the earth.¡± Her tails wagged furiously. ¡°But where is your djinn? And your nirarin?¡±


    ¡°Paeden.¡± Revealing my Sword, I leveled it at her. ¡°I knew I recognized that feeling. But I¡¯m surprised Marudak would make a woman an Apkalla.¡±


    ¡°Ignorant fool.¡± She practically barked the words. ¡°Sukalla are neither Paeden nor male. That bastard usurper would never.¡±


    Hasda hissed through his teeth. The rats, which had been slowly encroaching, froze. Glaring at the jackal, Hasda said, ¡°I don¡¯t know what you did to offend the rats, but please leave. We have unfinished business of our own, and you can handle yours when we¡¯re done.¡±


    ¡°Forgiveness, tuzshu.¡± The jackal ducked her head. From her crouch, she gave the rat king a hungry smile. ¡°He will answer for killing my jackals. At your pleasure, I¡¯ll retire until your business has concluded. Now that I¡¯ve found him, he won¡¯t escape me.¡±


    The rat king¡¯s chittering radiated pure panic.


    Cackling, the jackal pinned him with her eyes. ¡°They need not fear me, only you. I will have your head before the day is through.¡±


    ¡°Maybe not.¡± Hasda looked at me. ¡°Will the rats honor their agreement if their king is gone?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°You¡¯d know better than I. But I wouldn¡¯t count on them if they lose such a leader.¡±


    With a laugh the jackal crawled back up the ledge. ¡°Don¡¯t trust the rat, tuzshu. He sits in the skull of the last one who made a pact with him.¡± And with that, she slipped out of the cave.

 Chapter 129: The Alternative

    Hasda turned to the rat. ¡°Is this true?¡±


    Chittering, the rat stroked its whiskers and refused to meet his eyes.


    From the entrance, the jackal barked a laugh. Though her body was outside, she¡¯d slipped her head under the curtain of leaves, her paws hanging over the edge. ¡°Barrthikh was a kind soul. It was you who bullied him into a territorial agreement, then ambushed him when winter fell. Lethargic, barely into his hibernation, having never crossed into the part of the forest that was ¡®yours.¡¯ Spin your tales, Vartikh. Your lies won¡¯t bring my jackals back.¡±


    ¡°Do you deny it?¡± Arms crossed, Hasda drummed his fingers on his arm and glared at the rat king.


    Vartikh scrubbed his whiskers harder. His furious chattering was only interrupted by his sneezing.


    Scowling, Hasda shook his head. ¡°You stand to gain far more from this than I. And we¡¯ve sworn no oaths between us. Give me a reason not to leave.¡±


    ¡°What has he promised you?¡± The jackal¡¯s golden eyes glistened with hunger.


    ¡°Leave, or hold your tongue, beast¡± I growled at the jackal. ¡°I¡¯m not satisfied you¡¯re not Paeden, and if I find you have ties to the Sea Mother, I¡¯ll have your hide.¡±


    ¡°Forgiveness, Exalted One.¡± Her tails flicked behind the screen of leaves. ¡°It has been far too long since I¡¯ve seen a tuzshu, and never have I witnessed one unfettered from his nirarin. My curiosity is more than mild.¡±


    ¡°You can take your curiosity as far as your legs will run.¡± I turned, revealing my Sword. ¡°We don¡¯t know you, and your appearance, right before Hasda has secured an alliance, has been conveniently disruptive.¡±


    ¡°My apologies, Graceous One. I am Gunarra, chief and sole among the Sukalla.¡± Even lying down, the jackal managed a bow. ¡°Like Balphar, my pantheon has been dismantled, though mine was brought low long before the Balphanic pantheon took hold. I await the return of my mistress, and seek redress against the rats for the lives of my jackals. And you, my lord?¡±


    I frowned. She hadn¡¯t specified whom her mistress was, or named her fallen pantheon. And she hadn¡¯t answered my subtle accusation that she was actively interfering with Hasda¡¯s Trial. Given how sporadic the jackal appearances had been, it was hard to say with confidence that she¡¯d done anything more than monitor from a distance, but it was also hard to deny her involvement.


    Hasda twisted to see the jackal. ¡°I need to reach the heart of the forest. The rat king has offered to protect my men and I from undead ambushes. If the Stitcher has hurt your mistress, I would be glad to help avenge her.¡±


    ¡°Nothing like that, although your courage is admirable.¡± Gunarra¡¯s eyes glowed softly above her jackal smile. ¡°And what, pray tell, does this two-faced vermin want in return for his services? Certainly more than what I would ask for.¡±


    Hasda glanced at me.


    ¡°He seeks to raise his station.¡± I scowled at the jackal. ¡°Can your dogs guard against flocks of birds? Swarms of mice? Any other groups of undead the Stitcher may throw his way?¡±


    ¡°That bastard has always been greedy.¡± She shook her head. ¡°No, I cannot. But I can lead him away from such dangers. Why risk being mauled by survivors, if you spring their traps, when you can avoid the pitfalls entirely?¡±


    ¡°And what would you like in exchange?¡± Hasda asked.


    Tongue lolling, Gunarra tilted her head. ¡°Why do you seek the Stitcher?¡±


    ¡°To reclaim the Staff he¡¯s corrupted, and to end the reign of the undead in Curnerein.¡± Hasda put no bravado in his voice, played no games of dominance with the canine.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The jackal grinned. ¡°I would be glad to shepherd you through the hazards and reanimated animals for no more than your company, and the answers it might provide.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s too cheap.¡± I met Gunarra¡¯s smile with a hard stare. ¡°Surely you must know your kind¡¯s reputation. I¡¯d think you¡¯d at least try to drive a harder bargain to convince us.¡±


    ¡°What? That we¡¯re as faithless as that rat?¡± She practically spat the words. ¡°I keep my oaths, as I have dutifully waited on my mistress these many centuries. You don¡¯t see me adorning myself with the bones of my once-partners.¡±


    I shifted my Sword to my right side, closer to the jackal. ¡°Unlike you, the rats have been straightforward, and didn¡¯t hide themselves from us. As ambitious as the rat king¡¯s request is, he didn¡¯t dance around it.¡±


    ¡°And yet he hasn¡¯t denied the atrocity he¡¯s committed,¡± she snarled.


    The rat king squeaked. Now surrounded by the rodents who¡¯d climbed down from the walls, he clutched his claw sword like a ward. At the jackal¡¯s snarl, his rats pressed against him, trying to build a living wall between the predator and their leader.


    Hasda sighed. ¡°Can you heal my men? You must have seen them outside.¡±


    ¡°They smelled diseased.¡± Gunarra frowned at him. ¡°Perhaps my tongue could dress their wounds¡ªcanid saliva has healing properties, after all¡ªbut if your god cannot, I fear my efforts would be just as ineffectual. If you wish, however, I will try.¡±


    Nodding, Hasda turned back to the rat king. ¡°Her offer seems far more appealing than yours. And you¡¯ve been given several opportunities to defend yourself, and the best you have are excuses so flimsy, they¡¯re not even good enough to keep the sun off. That doesn¡¯t mean I trust you,¡± he said, glancing at the jackal. ¡°But you raise a good point. I certainly can¡¯t trust Vartikh.¡±


    Chittering, the rat waved his paws, although he wouldn¡¯t meet Hasda¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard enough.¡± Anger fueled Hasda¡¯s frown. ¡°Yes, you endangered your rats to slay undead mice. But that benefited you, regardless of its impact on my task. It was convenient for you that it also strengthened your offer. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Yelping in delight, Gunarra backed out of the cave and danced behind the leaves as she waited for us. Still scowling, Hasda scooted on his knees until he reached the ledge, and then pulled himself out. I wasn¡¯t far behind.


    Before I left, however, I turned to the rat. ¡°If you value your life, you must choose between your status and your survival. Extricate yourself from that tangled mess and flee. I don¡¯t think Gunarra will let you live, now that she knows your hideout.¡±


    And with that, I crawled out of the cave.


    Gunarra¡¯s tails swished in lazy, happy arcs as she pranced next to Hasda. Face set, Hasda ignored her and strode to where his men had camped a few trees over while they waited for his return. Most of their faces had gone sallow, and fluids both clear and crimson leaked from the edges of their blackened scabs. When Gunarra neared them, she recoiled and sneezed twice.


    ¡°I fear they may be beyond all help, tuzshu.¡± She sat at Hasda¡¯s side, eyeing the men.


    I frowned. Only five men remained. Before we¡¯d entered the hollow, there¡¯d been at least six. ¡°Hasda, your men.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± His voice was hard, his face harder. Jaw working, he rounded on the jackal. ¡°My father doubts you, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve gathered. I haven¡¯t agreed to your offer yet because I wanted to question you away from Vartikh. You lost your head as soon as you scented him.¡±


    Her ears flattened. When she spoke, her voice growled. ¡°Indeed, I have gleaned your misplaced mistrust of me. How may I dispel your doubts?¡±


    ¡°What pantheon are you from?¡± I came around her left side, positioning her between Hasda and myself. ¡°You¡¯re centuries old, if you can speak of them so casually, and yet you¡¯re demigod at best.¡±


    ¡°Hithian.¡±


    ¡°How have you managed to survive the Stitcher for so long?¡± I watched her reaction carefully. ¡°The forest has practically nothing forage worthy, plus an uncomfortable dearth of wildlife.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°Necrotic meat may not be suitable for humans, but it sustains us scavengers nonetheless.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Why were you following Hasda?¡±


    She clacked her teeth. ¡°That bastard rat has been avoiding me for longer than the Stitcher has ruled Batavii. For too long I have hunted his hiding hole. When his emissary revealed himself to this tuzshu, I couldn¡¯t pass up the chance.¡± Her tails flicked. ¡°I know it must seem like I was stalking your boy¡ªhe is your tuzshu, yes?¡ªbut he was not the game I pursued. I didn¡¯t even know that he was djinn bonded until the cave.¡± She tilted her head at Hasda. ¡°Where is your djinn?¡±


    Hasda shook his head. ¡°You called yourself a Sukalla. I¡¯ve heard a term that¡¯s close to that. The ones we¡¯ve fought, however, were animal aspected humans.¡±


    ¡°My antithesis, the Apkalla.¡± Her tails thumped the ground. ¡°Seven male sages of extreme ability, doted upon by their patriarchal lord.¡± She gave a strained smile. ¡°Since you¡¯ve already encountered them, I¡¯m sure you can extrapolate why the Paedens might not have looked too fondly on my kind.¡±


    ¡°Your kind.¡± I folded my arms. ¡°You said you were the only one.¡±


    ¡°Alas, there would have been more, if Hithia had been given the chance to blossom.¡± Head down, she whined. ¡°I was supposed to be merely the first, not also the last. And it has been far too long since I last saw my mistress.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°What happened to her? Was she slain? Did she abandon you?¡±


    ¡°She¡­went away, as it were. When the pantheon fell.¡±


    One of Hasda¡¯s men moaned, and tried to hide it by coughing into his hand. The hacking, however, stopped being fake very quickly.


    Hasda frowned. ¡°One last question.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± The jackal looked up at him expectantly.


    ¡°Will you see if your, er, saliva can heal my men?¡± He looked over her, watching his men suffer. ¡°I know there¡¯s no guarantee, but I would like you to try. Vartikh was willing to provide aid, however self-serving, with no commitment to an oath. Would you at least do that much?¡±


    She gave him a flat look. ¡°For the honor alone of serving a tuzshu again will I do this. If it further persuades you to allow me to accompany you, then so be it. But gladly will I render what feeble help I may.¡±

 Chapter 130: The Call

    The jackal crouched and circled Hasda¡¯s men. Sniffing, she eyed each one in turn before finally settling on a man who sat a little straighter than the rest.


    ¡°He will do.¡± She sat on her haunches and sniffed some more. Frowning, she glanced at Hasda. ¡°There¡¯s another scent under the decay that I can¡¯t place, but it makes my nose itch. I fear this may cause more harm than good. Would you wish me to still proceed?¡±


    ¡°How would it go wrong?¡± Arms folded, he scowled and tapped his foot. Not in anger, but frustration at his helplessness. He¡¯d always hated being unable to relieve others¡¯ pain.


    Gunarra¡¯s tails swished. ¡°Spice laces the scent. Familiar, yet strange, in a distant way.¡±


    Hasda looked to me.


    I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s your call.¡±


    ¡°Not him.¡± Hasda pointed to a different man, one who looked neither the worst nor the healthiest among the group. ¡°Heal Moriun. He has a daughter waiting for him.¡±


    The man coughed. ¡°If the healing is uncertain, Jendh stands the best chance.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± Gunarra lashed her tails. ¡°If this goes poorly, whomever I heal will need all his strength.¡±


    Hasda glared at the jackal. ¡°Can you heal all of them?¡±


    ¡°If the healing takes, perhaps.¡± Gunarra half whined at him. ¡°But for the test, it would be best to¡ª¡±


    Hasda shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re a demigod. Even I have a stronger aura than you. Given that, we may only get one try. So heal Moriun.¡±


    ¡°As you say.¡± With a sigh, Gunarra dropped her head and padded over to the other man. She sniffed his arm up and down, then tentatively licked a black spot on his elbow.


    The effect was immediate, but not on the right person.


    Yelping, Gunarra bolted away from him, hackles up. As she darted to the nearest bushes, patches of fur flaked from her limbs and body. Her stride also slowly brought her upright, until she was running on her hind legs, a forepaw over her mouth. She looked almost human by the time she vanished in the foliage.


    Moriun, however, looked no better for wear. Milky froth bubbled around the spot Gunarra had licked, dissipating into a sticky gray paste. But the color stayed drained from his face, the energy gone from his body.


    Despite that, he gave Hasda a reassuring smile. ¡°Thank you for trying, at least.¡±


    Frowning, Hasda knelt next to the man. ¡°Let me see your arm.¡±


    Confused, Moriun held out his arm.


    Violet flame gloved Hasda¡¯s hand as he passed it over the drying paste. The few remaining bubbles popped as the residue hardened, although it resembled an odd poultice once baked. When it had turned completely solid, Hasda extinguished his fire and sat on his haunches.


    ¡°Did that help?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± Moriun twisted his elbow to get a better look. ¡°It¡¯s almost like¡ª¡±


    And then he puked all over Hasda¡¯s chestplate.


    Wiping his face with a trembling hand, he smiled weakly at Hasda. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be.¡± My boy patted him on the shoulder and rose. ¡°I had a feeling something was missing. Let me know if you start feeling better, but don¡¯t peel that off. It should flake away on its own.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Kydon peeled back enough of the Veil to stick his head through, startling the men who were paying attention. ¡°Well, isn¡¯t that strange?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°This whole situation is. Now that the negotiations are finished, do you want me back under there with you?¡±


    The half-troll shook his head. ¡°I want to keep observing this Gunarra creature. Since she already knows about you, there¡¯s no point in you hiding from her. I don¡¯t want her sniffing me out.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not divine, though.¡±


    ¡°And yet she is.¡± Kydon frowned. ¡°I can¡¯t explain it. Calling her a demigod fails to describe it, yet she¡¯s not a god proper, either. That was almost an allergic reaction she had to diluted ambrosia.¡±


    ¡°Which wouldn¡¯t make sense, if she were any kind of divine.¡± Now it was my turn to frown.


    Kydon nodded. ¡°So I¡¯ll keep an eye on her from out of sight. You can be a little more hands-on with Hasda. I¡¯ll warn you if you go too far.¡±


    And with that, he pulled the Veil shut.


    Hasda gave me an inscrutable look. It didn¡¯t really fit him, yet he wore it well enough. Probably Malia¡¯s tutelage.


    ¡°What¡¯s that face for?¡± I walked over to him.


    ¡°Trying to find where Kydon tossed the new line.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°Not much further. Since I¡¯m already exposed, I¡¯m able to provide more explicit advice, and any implicit help my presence provides is acceptable. But I won¡¯t be healing your men, unfortunately.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°That¡¯s about what I expected.¡±


    One of the men laying on the ground waved his hand to get Hasda¡¯s attention. ¡°I know this is a bad time, but I need to go scout the river.¡±


    Hasda turned and knelt next to him. ¡°Are you sure, Midhis?¡±


    The man nodded. ¡°Once I get my feet under me.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡± Hasda tried to smile, but a heavy sigh escaped all the same. ¡°At least let me assist you that much.¡±


    Once the man had been lifted off the ground, he gave Hasda a quick salute and set off south. His gait was a bit off from favoring his left leg, but he held his head high as he walked away.


    Someone padded up behind us as we watched him go. ¡°Lost another one?¡±


    Hasda glanced back, and his words died on his lips.


    Though her face was pale from sickness and simple skin tones, the woman standing next to Hasda¡¯s men was clearly Gunarra. Canine ears poked out from a dirty brown bob, clawed hands that were more feline than human sported fur the same honey gold as her former paws, and her trio of tails swished behind her. She¡¯d kept her fur as a dress, and the contours delineated heavily muscled arms, legs, and torso.


    And she was short.


    ¡°There was more than poison in those wounds.¡± Her eyes glared an accusation that matched her tone.


    ¡°What¡¯s on your collar?¡± Hasda pointed at the dark leather around her neck, which I¡¯d missed at first because she¡¯d pushed the thing all the way up her neck. She wore it inside out, covering a slight bulge in the middle.


    ¡°A memento from my mistress.¡± Frowning, she absently fingered one side. ¡°But you should know that whatever infected your men interfered with my abilities. I¡¯m stuck in this inferior form until the pollution passes through my system.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°So you¡¯re unable to locate and avoid potential ambushes.¡±


    Growling, she snapped her gaze to my face. ¡°I may not, for a few days, but my jackals may. And they will serve you yet.¡±


    Hasda blew out a breath. ¡°Maybe we should enlist the rats¡¯ help. Do you think Vartikh would accept the coilna¡¯s tutelage as payment?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Since they wouldn¡¯t be your only ally, they don¡¯t demand full reward.¡±


    ¡°I will not work with the rats,¡± Gunarra snarled. ¡°Even if the bastards swear to render aid, they would be plotting to double cross you at the earliest opportunity. And they would slash my ankles without hesitation.¡±


    ¡°With you inhibited, Hasda should accept all the help he should get.¡± I folded my arms and stared her down.


    Hasda held up a hand. ¡°We¡¯ll need to wait for her jackals to arrive regardless, right? I¡¯ll go talk to the rats. Gunarra, why don¡¯t you call them? If you can, of course.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Biting off each word, she refused to break eye contact with me.


    Hasda started to say more, then dropped his hand and shrugged. With a final glance at his men, he strode back to the concealed cave and slipped under the hanging leaves.


    As soon as he disappeared inside, Gunarra tilted her head back and trilled a cry. Her throat worked as she shifted to shorter, almost cackling barks. When she finished, she snapped her eyes back to mine. ¡°Three will be here within an hour¡¯s time.¡±


    ¡°How long will it take for Hasda to reach the Stitcher?¡±


    ¡°Three or four days.¡± She sucked her teeth. ¡°Sooner, if he would but leave the deadweight.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°Which he won¡¯t do. I¡¯m sure you know that by now.¡±


    She sneered, but looked away before she did. ¡°They are breaths away from turning against him. Not of their own choosing, but they hear the Stitcher¡¯s call all the same. He will have to put them down, like rabid beasts, if he cannot bring himself to part with them.¡±


    ¡°What happened when you licked the wound?¡± Frowning, I unfolded my arms. ¡°There shouldn¡¯t have been any residual poison, and even if there was, it wouldn¡¯t have forced you to change forms.¡±


    Hunching down, she took a step back and gave me a veiled look. ¡°For someone who cannot heal these wounds, you know more than you admit about them. Did you poison me? Was this a trick?¡±


    I grunted a laugh. ¡°No, we didn¡¯t poison you. If anything, Hasda nearly poisoned his men, trying to help them.¡±


    ¡°Then why, Exalted One, do you not exert yourself?¡± Her eyes flashed. ¡±If you see the problem so clearly, why depend upon one lower than this tuzshu for help?¡±


    ¡°When you raise pups, do you run for them? Chew their food? Pump their lungs, so they can breathe?¡± I shook my head. ¡°It is no test, where every obstacle is removed.¡±


    Realization dawned in her eyes. ¡°And that is why he also needs a guide through the forest.¡±


    A flurry of movement erupted from the cave. Violet light flashed from within, and a moment later Hasda emerged, slashing through the curtain of leaves and scrambling out of the depths. Sheathing his sword, he sprinted over to us.


    I frowned as he raced by to gather up his men. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re moving.¡± Breathing heavily, he pulled the first man to his feet. ¡°Vartikh branded me a ¡®friend of the jackals¡¯ and made it clear that I¡¯ve overstayed my welcome. He gave us until nightfall to be well on our way.¡± He sighed. ¡°So much for the rats, eh?¡±

 Chapter 131: The Bargain

    Although it didn¡¯t take long to get all the men on their feet, it wasn¡¯t a fast pace they could maintain. The afternoon was already flirting with evening, and Hasda had until nightfall to make it as far as he could into the forest. But Gunarra had said that the rat king claimed everything this side of the river as his, which meant that even if Hasda made it to the Stitcher today, it wouldn¡¯t be far enough.


    And his men were flagging far too quickly. If the rats struck, it would be on Hasda and Gunarra to turn them. Already the sickliest of Hasda¡¯s men was slumping, barely lifting his feet as they marched. Well, Hasda marched. His men stumbled along, half dead.


    Gunarra yelped in intervals as we went along, coordinating her jackals. We¡¯d gone several lengths before the first answered, and by the time evening fell we had three or four in attendance. They kept out of sight, perhaps a good bowshot away, but they kept our slow pace easily.


    Evening bled across the sky in lush orange hues before being chased away by the dull gray of night. Stars spread out like scattered sand. A lone cricket made its presence known, the only sound of night life.


    And then the rats attacked.


    Our first warning of their approach was a startled yip from the jackal tailing us, a cry that turned quickly to angry snarls before being abruptly cut. Gunarra snarled and yowled sharp orders to her remaining jackals, who lost no time in flocking to us. Golden brown bodies, turned gray in the moonlight, broke through the underbrush to circle our small group.


    Only three. So few canines, though Hasda barely had a man beyond that.


    The rats, however, didn¡¯t extend the courtesy of fielding similar numbers. In the moonlight, they surged like a swelled creek. Hasda¡¯s djinn fire, which enveloped him in a protective glow, flashed off bared teeth, extended claws, and hungry eyes. Swords rang as the men drew their blades, but one of the men fell before the rats even swarmed them. Gunarra¡¯s jackals spread out as their mistress took front against the approaching rats.


    Although she remained stuck in human form, she fought as if she¡¯d returned to jackal. Her claws cut through the rats as they sprang at her face. Soft orange light reflected in her eyes and glowed dimly beneath her collar as she dove into the rats, spitting chunks of fur as she bit the rodents her claws missed. Kicking and slashing, she snarled as the rats targeted the soft tissue inside her elbows and on her ankles.


    Hasda cut sweeping arcs with his fiery sword, splitting the crashing tide. The rodents found almost no purchase on him, giving way to both sword and body as the heat of the flames pursued them. But the djinn fire only protected Hasda, and the rats found an easier target in the jackals and his men. As fast as their blades were, the rats were faster, and soon only one of the four remained standing. The jackals went under even quicker.


    With a roar, Hasda shot a pulse of fire outwards, nearly extinguishing his flames in the process. The blast scattered the rats and scalded his men, but it pushed the rats away enough for Hasda to carve a ring of fire with the tip of his sword. A thin wall of violet flames erupted in the wake of his strike, daring the rats to dive through.


    Gunarra and her jackals ended up on the outside of that ring, but it was already too late for the dogs. Speckled with cuts and bite marks, the half human stood as the lone survivor of her pack. Her jackals lay unmoving, their throats torn out by rodents Gunarra had been too slow to crush.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The remaining rats regrouped, eyes intent on Gunarra. But Hasda was having none of it. Screaming a war cry, he threw himself through the djinn fire and threw flaming arcs indiscriminately at the crouching rats. Flesh sizzled as fur vaporized.


    Squealing, the rats retreated.


    As they retreated, the ring of fire guttered out. Hasda¡¯s flames winked out not long after, revealing my exhausted but unharmed boy. I couldn¡¯t say the same for his men, though.


    Although they survived the rats, they were extremely worse for wear. Arms, faces, and legs bled from bites and claw marks, and many of the blackened spots had been shredded or completely torn off. One of the men clutched his eye, fluid that was more than blood leaking past his fingers. Overall, they¡¯d lived, which was more than Gunarra¡¯s jackals could say.


    Keening, the sukalla gathered her fallen animals in her arms and laid them together. When she reached the third, however, her breath hitched her cries, and she carefully adjusted how it lay. Its chest rose and fell, not far, but enough. So one of the four had made it through.


    Gunarra cursed and punched the earth.


    I walked over and stood behind her. ¡°How bad?¡±


    ¡°Were it not for this form, perhaps I could have pulled her back.¡± She sneered, tears creeping down her cheeks. ¡°But she will be gone before I can shift again, and none of her fellows can heal these wounds.¡±


    Frowning, I knelt down. The jackal¡¯s breathing was labored, its snout scored with a dozen pocks of missing fur. Her ribcage was no better, a wicked curve of flesh peeled off, the bones showing. How the rats had managed to bend her hind leg in that angle, I hadn¡¯t a clue. But she¡¯d kept her eyes intact.


    ¡°My magic is closer to field dressing than healing proper, but I could try it.¡± I gave her a grim look. ¡°But it¡¯s likely to do nothing or kill her, if it has any effect. Unless there¡¯s any way I could help you shift faster?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± She shook her head, and then bared her teeth and glared daggers in the direction the rats had retreated. ¡°Those bastards have stolen enough from me. If you would help, bring me his head.¡±


    Sighing, I pushed to my feet. ¡°That¡¯s not an option, unfortunately. I¡¯ll give you a moment alone while I check on Hasda, but we¡¯ll need to move soon before the rats regroup.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± Kneeling next to the jackal, she prostrated herself. ¡°For the sake of my little one, please exert yourself, Excellence.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Don¡¯t do that. Get up.¡±


    From by his men, Hasda laughed.


    Gunarra lifted her face but remained prone. ¡°What cost would you name for this petition, Most Gracious One?¡±


    ¡°How do you manage to sound both respectful and impertinent with those titles?¡± I shook my head. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one who values information. Honest answers, in exchange for good faith effort on my part.¡±


    She dipped her head. ¡°If she may be stabilized, sufficient for me to carry her to a safe haven, it is enough for me.¡±


    ¡°Then move.¡± Grunting, I settled onto the ground by the jackal¡¯s rib cage.


    Staying on her knees, she scurried out of the way, eyes intent on the injured animal.


    With a sigh, I set to work on the twisted leg. But the angle was so bad, it didn¡¯t matter how gentle I was. The jackal yelped in pain as I bent it back into position and set the bone. I manifested a salve and lathered the split fur. Torn cloth and a pair of stiff sticks went into the splint after.


    The wound on the ribcage was another matter entirely. Every touch sent tremors through the jackal, its breath hitching with each prod. Although the pain was understandable, the jerking pulled the flap from my fingers and made it hard to square the slash. But I managed a stitch, albeit a messy one, and applied more salve before wrapping a bandage around the jackal¡¯s body.


    When I lifted the jackal to pass the cloth under, my hand pressed a hidden wound that made the jackal cry and thrash out of my hands. With some soothing, I finished the binding and rolled the animal over. Another gash, this one not as deep, cut horizontally across its side. It didn¡¯t require stitching, but I salved it and extended the bandage to cover it as well.


    Vanishing the supplies, I nodded to Gunarra and pushed to my feet.


    ¡°Your skill rivals your graciousness.¡± She gave another quick bow.


    I coughed. ¡°Do you need a sling?¡±


    ¡°No. I will carry her in my arms.¡± Her eyes grew sad as she gently collected the jackal. ¡°We are not like the wolves. Our solitude makes the cost of these lives all the greater. I will summon more, but I fear we won¡¯t achieve a pace capable of placating the rats.¡±


    ¡°We will make do.¡± I glanced over at Hasda, who wore a consternated look as he rummaged through their supplies. ¡°Hasda, how soon will your men be ready to move?¡±


    He lifted a sagging bag and let it drop. ¡°We can make it a dozen yards from the death and carnage before we¡¯ll need to rest for the night. The rats ruined a good portion of the dry foods, so we¡¯ll have to worry about foraging as we go. But that¡¯s tomorrow¡¯s problem.¡±

 Chapter 132: The Hithian

    We settled in for the night no more than a bowshot from the rat ambush. Hasda and his battered men picked at jerky before tucking in for the night. After laying her burden down and assuring herself that the jackal was comfortable, Gunarra lowered herself next to me with a sigh.


    ¡°What would you know, O Perceptive One?¡± Her teeth glistened in the moonlight as she flashed a wry smile.


    Grunting, I reclined against a thick trunk. ¡°Been puzzling over something you said earlier. You named yourself Hithian, and yet you called Marudak a usurper. Now, technically, you could argue the distinction, given that Paedea wasn¡¯t his until he established himself as head of the pantheon. But it sounds to me like you¡¯re splitting hairs.¡±


    Her breath caught, and then she hissed a sigh. ¡°It would be untrue to deny a shared lineage, yet to lump us together misses the situation as well. Hithia is¡­would have been my home, if the Bull of Heaven hadn¡¯t crushed us. But he did.¡±


    ¡°How did he, if you had tuzshu?¡± I frowned. ¡°Did Hithia have tuzshu? You seem to know quite a bit about them.¡±


    She tilted her head, tails twitching. ¡°I trained them, while I served my mistress. We didn¡¯t know that Marudak had raised his own, and mortals die easier than gods. By the time we discovered his plot, he¡¯d already executed his maneuver and our tuzshu.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°So you know how to make more?¡±


    ¡°If I may be permitted a question of my own?¡± Her eyes glowed a mellow orange in the moonlight. ¡°Where did your tuzshu find his djinn?¡±


    ¡°A land far from here.¡± I held up a hand when she went to ask more. ¡°There may be more djinn like his, and I¡¯ll not hand the keys to that kingdom to someone I know precious little about.¡±


    The way she ground her teeth made my hair stand on end. ¡°I knew all of the djinns, even the ones who betrayed us. I would like to know if one of mine survived the killing field.¡±


    ¡°For as long as Marudak has ruled the Paedens, if you haven¡¯t found that out on your own, I don¡¯t know what to tell you.¡± I crossed my arms and stared her down. ¡°Speaking of timelines, when was your mistress bound? You talk about her as if she¡¯s close, and a breath away from breaking free.¡±


    She looked away and fingered her collar. ¡°I¡¯ve seeded the crop to bring about her release throughout the people of Curnerein. With Balphar, I¡¯d very nearly succeeded in returning her, but the Stitcher felling him has set that back and almost salted the field.¡± Almost absently she flipped the collar right side out, revealing a thick piece of amber wider than her thumb. ¡°This gemstone is her symbol, and while Balphar lived it served as a source of hope and comfort. Under the Stitcher, it has been twisted into a sign of avarice and fear. My mistress lies imprisoned deep in a mountain to the north, beyond the Hall of Balphar. And the Stitcher has turned her resurrection into something to fear, since she could very well overthrow him, as he did Balphar.¡±


    ¡°Pretty speech.¡± I scratched my chin. ¡°What¡¯s your mistress like? Does she have a name?¡±


    ¡°She is my world.¡± She barked a laugh, still thumbing the gemstone. ¡°And this mineral bears her name.¡±


    Warning beacons lit across my mind. The pattern I saw wasn¡¯t a perfect match, though. ¡°How long have you been in Curnerein?¡±


    ¡°Long enough to watch the House of Balphar sprout from the scraps Marudak left behind. Long enough for my spirit to waste away while my mistress deteriorated in her prison. Long enough that it¡¯s taken a different form of necromancy to raise the memory of Hithia in this region.¡± Her voice was hard as she punctuated each sentence.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I shook my head, as much for her diversion as for the creeping chill of the night. ¡°Let¡¯s try a different tack. Who guards your mistress¡¯s prison now?¡±


    She gave me a sharp look. ¡°It lays unguarded, save for the fear the mortals hold for it and the decree of the Stitcher, barring its exploration.¡±


    ¡°And who used to guard it?¡± I smiled at her irritated frown. ¡°I thought as much. But what confuses me is how they used you to seal her, where they¡¯ve always anchored the prison to a full-blooded deity.¡±


    ¡°Powerful though my mistress be, she is but a simple goddess. They wouldn¡¯t waste even a minor deity imprisoning her.¡± She snarled. ¡°And it has been far too many centuries since she last saw the light of the sun.¡±


    My eyebrows scrunched together. ¡°But you¡¯re not a demigod, exactly.¡±


    ¡°Sukalla and Apkalla are semi-divine. We sit adjacent to the demigods without threatening to become fully divine.¡± She waved her hand. ¡°Non-mortal servants, if you wish to think of us that way.¡±


    ¡°But special.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°But special.¡±


    ¡°How many other Hithians are there?¡±


    ¡°Who knows?¡± Shrugging, she glanced away. ¡°Our numbers were precious little before Marudak¡¯s tuzshu cut us down. And since I escaped the pit, I¡¯ve remained here, working to free my mistress. None have come looking for me, and I haven¡¯t searched.¡±


    I sighed and let my head fall back. Overhead, the moon battled to shine through drifting clouds and forest foliage, mostly losing. A sad state of affairs for those who enjoyed moonshine, but Ulti would be happy. They loved dancing across the fluffy ceiling.


    ¡°How did you know that I was compelled to be the warden?¡± Her soft eyes watched my face.


    I grunted. ¡°You¡¯re not the first such case we¡¯ve encountered. The last one is roaming these woods somewhere. You¡¯ve probably seen her.¡±


    ¡°The long-winged harpy.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°But the Sea Mother has yet to return.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been preventing her, as much as we can.¡± I shook my head. ¡°You¡¯ve been through a binding before. Could you recreate it?¡±


    Frowning, she gripped her collar. ¡°For an elder goddess, not a chance. For a full-blooded deity, perhaps, but I don¡¯t want to try.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you¡¯d be willing to explain the fundamentals some time, we might be able to put them to good use.¡± I shifted my weight, trying to get the bark to stop digging into my back so hard. ¡°Why did the Paedens imprison Amber? I¡¯m afraid we¡¯re fairly ignorant of their history.¡±


    ¡°When a fire grows too large, you douse it.¡± Gunarra picked at the dirt with her feet. ¡°The Sea Mother cultivated her children into shathrapavans, what you would call pantheons, and fostered strife amongst them. Those more capable raised their own offspring into formidable houses¡ªalthough Balphar¡¯s House held a different lineage¡ªand Marudak was a strong champion for his branch. As such, the Sea Mother entrusted a division of djinn to his mother, who in turn divided the spirits among her daughters. Marudak, being the only son, expected to be included with his sisters, but his mother, Niyanu, passed over him in favor of her granddaughter, Amber.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Your mistress is Marudak¡¯s daughter? We didn¡¯t even know he had a mate.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°A casualty of Marudak¡¯s rebellion. He used the marriage to form an alliance with a house his mother favored. While he presented it as submitting to his mother¡¯s will, his real target was that pantheon¡¯s tuzshu. Outwardly, he brought them into Amber¡¯s fold, but the Kurrian tuzshu always held fealty to him. And he married off his other children to grow that flock.¡±


    ¡°But not Amber?¡±


    Gunarra sighed, a smile on her face. ¡°She was his crown jewel. You have to understand, Marudak was a god plagued by failure from his very birth. His ambition belonged on one of his sisters, or that he should have been born a daughter. The Kurrians, stronger by far than Niyanu¡¯s Ayanians, only agreed to the marriage because Zaparrni was too gentle for their designs. She was beautiful, yes, but cared more for the synonyms of noble life than conniving and employing her appearance for cunning reasons. That such a union would produce a princess to rival her father, ah, what a precious treasure she was.¡± Laughing, Gunarra picked up a stick and chewed it. ¡°My mistress held more promise than even her father, had he been born properly, and the Sea Mother took note. If she had left my mistress be, Marudak may never have revolted.¡±


    I glanced over at Hasda, sleeping in the middle of his men. Yeah, I could understand that.


    ¡°The Sea Mother tried to take my mistress to be among her chosen. Not quite a pantheon, but certainly a place of favor.¡± The twig snapped as Gunarra bit too hard. She spit the piece out and went back to chewing. ¡°However, only those select few could visit her once taken. Even I, as her handmaiden, would have been replaced.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°But if Tamiyat kept such a close grip on her gods, then she must have known taking Amber would provoke Marudak.¡±


    Clamping the stick with her teeth, she breathed out through her nose. ¡°The rumor that spread with the smoke of the Sea Mother¡¯s fall was that she suspected the extent of Marudak¡¯s alliances, and used claiming Amber as a way to cull him before he grew too large without publicly executing him. A pantheon¡¯s fall was always brought about by another¡¯s. That was her children¡¯s game¡ª¡±


    Guttural growls erupted from the pile of men.

 Chapter 133: The Turn

    Limbs flailed and steel sang as two of them drew their swords. In the dim moonlight, it was hard to tell what happened, but it ended with Hasda on top. Gunarra and I rushed over.


    Only one of Hasda¡¯s men was still breathing, his chest heaving as he sank against Hasda¡¯s knees. He tossed his sword away with a beleaguered grunt. On the ground next to them lay three unmoving bodies, Hasda¡¯s own sword still impaled in the chest of the middle one.


    Hasda didn¡¯t look away from his dead companions as we approached. ¡°Jendh turned. Jendh.¡± Stony faced, he yanked out his sword in silence. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡± I couldn¡¯t see any blood on the back of the facedown one, and the other, on his side, showed no visible sword wounds either.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Jendh attacked Dionin and got Tyvas too, before we realized.¡± Hasda¡¯s knuckles went white on his sword. ¡°But he turned. Why didn¡¯t he just leave us and go to the Stitcher? The draw is so strong. Why?¡±


    One of the corpses stirred, and Hasda ran it through. Wordlessly, he did the same to the third body.


    ¡°You should sever the heads, to be safe.¡± Gunarra eyed the corpses with barely disguised disgust.


    ¡°We know.¡± Hasda whirled with a snarl. An aura of purple, on the cusp of bursting into flames, enveloped him. With a yelp, his final warrior fell away from him. Breathing heavily, Hasda dropped his death glare and reined in the djinn. Softer, while helping his tumbled man sit up, he said, ¡°Believe me, I know. We¡¯ve put down enough good men already.¡±


    ¡°Do you want me to¡­¡± I began, but Hasda waved me off.


    ¡°We just need a moment.¡± He looked pained. ¡°Please.¡±


    Frowning, I motioned Gunarra back, and we retreated to a copse within shouting distance. As the half-form settled on the ground, I gave her a stern look. ¡°You lack tact.¡±


    ¡°The tuzshu lacks experience,¡± she shot back. ¡°Death coddles none, although you coddle him.¡±


    I snorted a laugh and folded my arms. ¡°This is his first command. He¡¯s spent months with these mortals, and on his first proper excursion, he¡¯s lost nearly all of them.¡±


    ¡°All.¡± Gunarra bit the word off. ¡°The last one is a dead man walking. Whatever trick he pulled with his djinn, it won¡¯t last. No matter how you plump a cadaver, it won¡¯t bring them back to life.¡±


    ¡°Do all Sukalla lecture above their station?¡± I smiled at her tight-lipped frown.


    ¡°The curse of being both the best and the worst of your kind.¡± She paused, lifting her hand and sniffing it. Black shadows cupped her palm. When she smelled the substance, she sneezed and scowled at it. ¡°Swamp scum. Here?¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be. I don¡¯t even see a creek.¡±


    Yelping, she shot to her feet. The side of her dress she¡¯d been reclining on was soaked through, wet mud clinging to the fabric. I nearly jumped as I felt cold water creep over my feet, the level quickly rising to my ankles. Fog rolled in on the coattails of the sudden flood.


    Gunarra barked a series of sharp cries, but no jackals answered. My Sword slipped into my hand as I turned, scanning the thickening fog. Nothing strange leapt out at me, but I could feel an encroaching presence that wasn¡¯t quite familiar enough to place.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    And then, a soft orange glow illuminated a small sphere within the fog. Then another, and another, until a half-dozen will-o-wisps bobbed within the clouds.


    ¡°These again.¡± A low growl escaped from Gunarra as she glared at the bobbing will-o-wisps.


    ¡°You know them?¡± I frowned as I glanced at her. Although we¡¯d been under moonlight the whole time, she looked paler now, more ethereal.


    She bared her teeth at the encroaching fog. ¡°They have done nothing but harass my jackals. Blinding them, distracting them, leading them astray.¡±


    ¡°Have they said anything?¡±


    Her eyes called me stupid. ¡°Have you been hearing voices from strange lights?¡±


    I snorted. ¡°No, but these lights are divine. Or will be, when their goddess is formed. Or born.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Malia has a better idea of what still needs to happen than I do.¡±


    ¡°Before a goddess is born?¡± The half-form tilted her head.


    ¡°My daughter.¡± The Weeping Queen emerged from the fog, wisps of murky vapor trailing off her. Although her grimy face still bore tear stains, her gaze had found strength. She held herself tall and glided towards us with a regal gait, her chalice held before her like a bridal bouquet.


    Sucking in a breath, Gunarra hid her fangs and bowed. ¡°Hail, Frijorro, Queen of Sivarii. My eyes are blessed to see you well and moving about again.¡±


    The Weeping Queen regarded her for a moment, confusion riddling her countenance, before she smiled. ¡°Gunarra. You¡¯ve changed your visage, although your voice is as soothing as ever.¡±


    ¡°I am honored to please you so.¡± Head still down, she swept her arms out. ¡°If my face displeases you so, when I am able, I shall change it for you.¡±


    ¡°Are you injured? Why can¡¯t you change?¡± Genuine concern filled the Weeping Queen¡¯s look.


    ¡°Let it trouble you not.¡± Gunarra rose halfway from her bow, though she kept her gaze down. ¡°It is merely an inconvenience from an ill thing I consumed. But it, like this face which disturbs you, shall pass.¡±


    A small smile twitched the Weeping Queen¡¯s lips. ¡°Your face is fine as it is, Gunarra. And you¡¯ve found an excellent traveling companion.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°You¡¯re in much better shape than the last time we met. What changed?¡±


    ¡°You surprised me.¡± She dropped her gaze to her chalice, stirring it gently. ¡°My daughter spoke highly of you, how well you treated your mortal son, and then her observations were manifested in you playing psychopomp for a pantheon not your own.¡± Her eyes rose to meet mine. ¡°It gave me hope that, perhaps, you could gather the shattered pieces of my family and put my land back together.¡± Her face hardened. ¡°Grief has not left me so blinded that I cannot see the fate of my people, to forever be trampled by foreign gods greater than us. But a yokemaster who cares for those he drives, mayhaps, would not be such an awful plight.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°We¡¯re not here to conquer. Once the Stitcher is dealt with, we can work towards reestablishing trade and stabilize the region. But the Stitcher is our first priority.¡±


    She gave me a sharp look. ¡°You answer before I can even ask. And yet, a further request remains.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t offer more than consideration until our task is complete.¡± I gave her an apologetic smile. ¡°But I¡¯ll certainly listen.¡±


    ¡°When you¡¯ve finished with the one who slew my kin, permit me the use of his Staff.¡± Her eyes blazed with intensity. ¡°Countless stolen souls lay trapped within, their bodies commanded by the voice which stripped them of life. I would lead them home to the waters of my swamp.¡±


    I frowned. Hasda¡¯s Trial was explicitly to retrieve the Staff, but no mention was made of its final fate. It was unlikely the Stitcher would merely rescind his claim to his Staff and roll over in defeat, so Hasda would need to extract himself on his own before the matter could be considered settled.


    Negotiating with the Weeping Queen now, however, dealt more with his successfully concluding the Trial than making moves to help him complete it. Kydon could wrestle with that knot where the sun didn¡¯t shine all he wanted.


    Holding up my hand, I gave the Weeping Queen a stern look. ¡°You need to understand, we¡¯re not here to destroy the Stitcher. At best, he¡¯ll be displaced with the loss of his Staff and his Sleepless, but deciding which deities to instate in territory outside our control could be a sword turned against you, as well. While I understand your situation, others in my pantheon might wish to unseat you, were they to learn how precarious Curnerein is. Not our major gods, but plenty of our minor deities have ambition to climb the ranks, and staking their claim to a weakened territory would put them strides ahead of their competitors.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Whatever aid you offer will I gladly accept.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Further, I can¡¯t guarantee that the Staff will survive this ordeal intact, nor that our Head will grant you even a temporary custodianship of it. You should prepare for the eventuality that you¡¯ll need to shepherd the Sleepless into the afterlife alone.¡±


    ¡°Any accession is a priceless gift.¡± Her fingers tightened on the goblet stem. ¡°With your leave, I¡¯ll travel on to meet my son. His passion calls to me from the east, and I fear that I may not reach him before he arrives at that which has incensed him so.¡±


    I fought a scowl and covered it with a grunt. ¡°The forest is yours to traverse as you please. I won¡¯t stay you.¡±


    Her hands trembled slightly as she brought the chalice to her lips. After taking a quick sip, she drew herself up. ¡°Would that your words come to pass. Already the kinslayer resists my presence, pushing against my spirit.¡± She shivered. ¡°I will go to my son, then.¡±


    With a quick bow, the Weeping Queen strode past us, weeping no more. Her dress trailed in the ephemeral water, and her goblet seemed to glow against the unseen resistance she battled. The transformation from heartbroken widow to warring monarch threatened to outshine the moonlight.


    For her sake, and her son¡¯s, I hoped she reached him before he pushed too hard against Malia¡¯s flank.

 Chapter 134: The Remainder

    Our footsteps sloshed as we made our way back to Hasda and his men.


    Or, rather, Hasda.


    Dawn was hot on our heels as we broke into the clearing where only Hasda remained, sitting against a tree and picking at the soggy ground.


    He flicked a stick away as we exited the shrubbery, his gaze northward. ¡°How much further?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps no more than a day or two, if you¡¯re no longer encumbered.¡± Gunarra eyed him warily.


    I frowned. ¡°Where is your man? And the bodies?¡±


    ¡°Gone.¡± He patted the ground, which made wet plops. ¡°A goddess buried them, said she¡¯d give them a proper send off when she returned. Except for Moriun. He wasn¡¯t doing so well, so I sent him with her. Didn¡¯t think he¡¯d make it to the river.¡±


    Gunarra nodded. ¡°You were wise. Frijorro takes good care of her own.¡±


    He finally turned, his face pinched. ¡°Can we make the Stitcher by sundown?¡±


    Shifting her weight, the half-form glanced between me and Hasda. ¡°Were the path clear, and you able to run as I, it would still take more than a day to reach the border of the Hall of Balphar. Exhausted as you are, and stuck in this wretched form as I am, I do not think we could move as quickly as you wish.¡± She spread her hands apologetically. ¡°And we must needs wait for my jackals to gather to me. A pair answered my call last night and shall join us by midday. But they must scout ahead before we can move with any speed.¡±


    I knelt next to him, facing the same direction. ¡°Don¡¯t smother your grief under action. Rashness will only lead to mistakes, and there is no greater disrespect to the dead than to spit upon their sacrifices.¡±


    He snapped another twig before meeting my eyes. ¡°I would run until my legs gave out if it meant killing the Stitcher tonight.¡±


    ¡°And that would almost certainly end in the opposite.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± His jaw worked. ¡°If I had abandoned the Trial, could you have healed them?¡±


    ¡°Hasda, second guessing will eat you alive, but only as long as you let it.¡± I sighed. ¡°I know the pain hurts. That¡¯s natural. You must be strong, in order to keep it from consuming you. But don¡¯t rush it.¡±


    ¡°But I have to keep going.¡± His face hardened. ¡°All other branches lead to failure, right?¡±


    My eyes narrowed. ¡°Where did you hear that?¡±


    ¡°A little bird told me.¡± His face was still unflinching, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. ¡°I know you¡¯re trying to help, Dad, but you¡¯ve told me the grief speech so many times you¡¯ve probably lost count.¡±


    I folded my arms, trying not to show how his rejection hurt. ¡°It can¡¯t have been that many times.¡±


    He folded his fingers over his thumb as he counted. ¡°When I found the dead rabbit. When I made my first kill hunting. When Serena drowned in the pond. When I forgot to refill Squiggle¡¯s bowl and he dried out. When¡ª¡±


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°All right, I get it.¡± I sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve just seen what happens when good men bottle it up for too long.¡±


    ¡°As you¡¯ve also said before.¡± The saddest smile I¡¯d ever seen slipped across his face, and it nearly broke my heart. ¡°I appreciate it. I really do. But no amount of speeches can change how much of a failure I¡¯ve been thus far.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°You¡¯re not a failure.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°Not a single soldier survived under me. One alliance failed before it got off the ground, and the other hides knives beneath her cloak.¡±


    Gunarra glanced at him sharply. ¡°Again with the baseless mistrust.¡±


    ¡°My djinn recognized you,¡± Hasda shot back. His grin turned harsh. ¡°True, betrayal led to your downfall, but you wore a jackal¡¯s reputation with pride before favor fled. And he¡¯s had enough with leashes.¡±


    ¡°One of Arali¡¯s spawn, then.¡± Gunarra gave him a sour look. ¡°He should understand how dangerous an untethered galla is to his existence. Marudak would burn him like incense into the ether if he knew your djinn had broken free.¡±


    Hasda bared his teeth. ¡°He would try. But the return of his divestment of the tuzshu will come with interest.¡±


    Sighing, Gunarra shook her head. ¡°We share the same side, honored tuzshu. Yours is not the only djinn I offended executing my duties. If I knew the affront, perhaps I could seek to make amends.¡±


    ¡°You fish for more information with the subtlety of a toddler.¡± Hasda curled his lip at her. ¡°Of course any djinn old enough to know your past would be galla. The third and fourth generations wouldn¡¯t have the history to understand why what you did was a betrayal, rather than an execution of your duties. And none of the girru survived.¡±


    Her nostrils flared. ¡°Even beyond the grave, Kakka Me-Me flings her barbs. But the callouses you seek to pierce have calcified, just djinn. As I have told your tuzshu, so say I to you: for naught but company and inquiries met would I usher unto him his expressed desire.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve killed for less.¡± Hasda¡¯s voice was as hard as his face. ¡°Your whimsy is equal parts fickle and lethal. A seat among a den of scorpions is a surer thing than a bed among¡ª¡±


    ¡°You have more than made your point,¡± Gunarra snapped. Her eyes flashed in the early morning light. ¡°You are the only one who has suffered since Marudak¡¯s usurpation, yes? The only being who endured the hardships and loss of those you held dear stripped from you? A metaphor no more in Marudak¡¯s hands.¡± Fists clenched, she shivered. ¡°You may scorn the ghitti and the gudhu as your lessers, Kakka Me-Me may have fostered no love between you and them, but others, others cared.¡± Her eyes snapped to Hasda¡¯s, and if her hands had still born claws, she would have been flexing them. ¡°That misbegotten son of a bitch used my mistress¡¯s own honor guard to bind her, before he dashed them to pieces. My tuzshu were shredded in spirit before the flesh as my eyes were prised open, you soulless piece of shit. And as you claim to know me, I also know your kind.¡± She jabbed a finger at Hasda. ¡°Arali had good reason to create the ghitti. Tell me, tuzshu, has your djinn disclosed how many of his former hosts shriveled and collapsed beneath the full bond? How many lives he drank, not because they could not handle the strain, but because he relished in watching them buckle beneath the unequal yoke? The one mistake Arali failed to rectify from the girru was their bloodlust, and how unrelenting it remained.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± Hasda managed to encompass his armor in the command. Watching the half-form quiver, he sighed. ¡°My spirit is stretched too thin to find the line between my own grief and my djinn¡¯s thirst for revenge. We should rest while we wait for your jackals to arrive. An olive branch.¡± He held out his hand. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one mistrusted here. There¡¯s a reason I haven¡¯t fully bonded with my djinn.¡±


    Gunarra looked at his hand, and then the soft flicker of purple fire that flashed across his chestplate. ¡°Not for lack of nirarin?¡±


    Hasda shook his head. ¡°I haven¡¯t had nearly enough sleep. I don¡¯t know if you need rest, but I will take some after I forage some breakfast. Hopefully I¡¯ll be more alert by the time your jackals arrive.¡±


    And with that, he set off westward into the forest.


    When he was out of earshot, I folded my arms and faced down the half-form. ¡°What was that about?¡±


    ¡°Which part?¡± Her eyes tracked Hasda¡¯s progress.


    I scowled and slid between them. ¡°The time for wordplay has long since passed, jackal. I knew a tenth of the terms you used and recognized even fewer names. Explain.¡±


    Ducking her head, she rubbed her arm and looked away. ¡°It is¡­uncomfortable, dredging up such history again. And the pain that accompanied it.¡±


    ¡°Then start with the least and work your way up.¡±


    She shot me a dirty look. ¡°Alone the Sea Mother is not in the train of eldritch gods, nor was her love of procreation exclusive, either. Arali favored the incorporeal. Four generations of djinn he fathered¡ªgirru, galla, ghitti, gudhu. Each flawed, and every successor slightly diluted, until the last could barely fulfill their duties as tuzshu.¡±


    My eyebrows shot up. An elder god made the djinn? That would explain how they could kill gods.


    ¡°A portion of the ghitti were gifted to my mistress, who entrusted them to me.¡± Her eyes glistened, with pride and with tears. ¡°I¡¯ll never forget that day. The smell of charred flesh mingling with the sour tang of roasted flowers. The rainbow of the hanging gardens blackened and smeared across the browns of my jackals. Or when that piss stain of a cow¡ª¡± She clacked her teeth. ¡°Once he¡¯d overthrown the Sea Mother, he tore the tools of revolution to shreds. My ghitti, my flesh and blood, my pack. Everyone, save my mistress. Her, he would never wound.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for your loss.¡± And I was. Being forced to watch them brutally destroyed must have been horrible to endure. ¡°Marudak is no friend of ours, either. When Carthia has finished its work in Curnerein, we would appreciate your help confronting him.¡±


    ¡°If you slay him, you will never imprison the Sea Mother again.¡± She barked a harsh laugh. ¡°You wish to stop her, yes? Her warden has escaped, and she will return to the mortal plane. Puff your feathers as you wish, she would simply pluck them for her pillow.¡±


    I scowled. ¡°We¡¯ve already rebuffed her once. It¡¯s imprisoning her that¡¯s the challenge, a thing we might determine with your knowledge.¡±


    In the distance, Hasda screamed.

 Chapter 135: The Transformation

    I reached Hasda before Gunarra.


    Panting, he stood in the center of a ring of burned-out forest, slender twigs around his ankles crumbling in the fresh ash. Sword in hand and cloaked in djinn fire, he glared around the now-bare forest. It took a moment for me to spot the bleached bones at his feet, but once I did I spotted several skeletons hidden among the scorched remains of the forest floor.


    ¡°Rats?¡± I fought the urge to summon my own weapon.


    He shook his head, nostrils flaring. ¡°Squirrels. Undead.¡±


    Gunarra pulled up as his gaze swung on her. ¡°I¡­if only I could sense them.¡±


    ¡°That makes two of us.¡± Snarling, he banished the djinn fire and slammed his sword in its sheath and then sucked at his hand.


    ¡°What happened?¡± I came over to examine him, but he pulled back.


    ¡°Caught me off guard. I was picking berries and it bit me before I saw it. Saran¡ª¡± He stopped, eyes hard on Gunarra.


    ¡°If that¡¯s what your djinn calls himself, it is a name with which I¡¯m not familiar.¡± She gave him a flat look. ¡°Even if I knew his former designation, I¡¯m not sure it would help me remedy whatever prior offense has caused his grudge.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t sense it, either.¡± Hasda ignored her and inspected the wound. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose sparing me some ambrosia would be permitted?¡±


    I stole a surreptitious glance around the forest. Kydon, still beneath the Veil, frowned and folded his arms. It took effort to keep the scowl off my face. ¡°Did the Stitcher get his claws back in you?¡±


    Hasda shook his head. ¡°That hold was broken the first time, and it won¡¯t set a second. I¡¯m more concerned about normal infection than undead disease.¡±


    ¡°I might be able to shift.¡± Gunarra winced at his glare. ¡°Even if I can, my senses are still clouded, so we must needs wait for my jackals to arrive. But you haven¡¯t lathered your wound in a mysterious sludge, so it won¡¯t affect my personage negatively.¡±


    ¡°If you can shift, I suppose we can try.¡± He flexed his hand. ¡°But make it quick. I need to find more food, since I ruined the first patch.¡±


    The half-form dipped her head and stepped back. Gathering herself, she thrust her arms forward and pushed against an invisible barrier. Sweat beaded her brow, lines carving consternation on her face. Then, with a pop, she fell to all fours.


    As she shook herself, her dress shifted into long strands of fur. Her limbs thickened, her hands becoming paws, her fingers clawed. Soon she wagged three bushy tails again, although her face had taken a more feline cast than the canid jackal one she¡¯d first worn. Her nose was puffy as well, as if a hive of bees had assaulted it, and her eyes were bloodshot.


    ¡°Hold out your hand.¡± Her voice sounded like she was recovering from a cough.


    Frowning, Hasda extended his arm. Gunarra sniffed the wound a few times and then shook her head. One final sniff, and then she licked the bite once, twice. A sneeze, and she was finished.


    Face scrunched, Hasda surveyed the pink blotch of fresh skin. ¡°That was¡­fast.¡±


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The canid lioness blinked. ¡°I merely meant to disinfect it.¡±


    He narrowed his gaze at her. ¡°Yes, well, appreciated. How close are your jackals?¡±


    ¡°Likely several hours away still. Why?¡±


    ¡°From the look of your face, your senses are still messed up?¡±


    She nodded.


    Sighing, Hasda turned and stalked northward. ¡°I¡¯m hungry. I need to find food.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll go with you.¡± I gave Gunarra a stern look as I set off after him. ¡°I¡¯m sure her jackals know how to track her.¡±


    She snorted and plodded after me.


    We kept Hasda in sight, but followed from a distance. The feel of the forest had changed. Even though the ill-suited silence still draped the woodland, the sense of emptiness had faded. Maybe it was the knowledge of animals unseen, yet distantly present, or perhaps it was the Sukalla¡¯s tentative companionship, an accompaniment that differed from Hasda¡¯s former men, but the atmosphere of life deprived no longer clung to the air.


    I glanced sideways at the jackal heeling beside me. ¡°You were explaining the generations of djinn before the interruption.¡±


    ¡°Strange, I remember declaiming the futility of avenging past wrongs upon Marudak while the Sea Mother remains unbound.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°It¡¯s either that, or you explain this betrayal my boy¡¯s djinn hates you over.¡±


    A low growl rattled her throat. ¡°Arali first fashioned the girru, unbridled spirits whose fire consumed even light itself. But they refused to submit, so he shattered them and forged a new line from their shards. The galla served better than their precursors, but they tended to waste their hosts.¡± Her eyes assessed Hasda¡¯s broad back. ¡°How long have they been bonded?¡±


    ¡°A few years at this point.¡± My neck itched, but I ignored it. ¡°Why? Will he suddenly succumb to death after being exposed too long?¡±


    ¡°Nothing like that.¡± Gunarra padded silently for a pace. ¡°Less a candle guttering out, more dousing a fire with oil. A predictable fate. What drove Arali to try again with the ghitti was how the galla would push their tuzhsu beyond mortal limits in battle. A consequence, perhaps, of gifting the galla with too many skills. The gudhu, however, were not so endowed.¡±


    ¡°And why they failed as tuzshu,¡± Hasda called back. He¡¯d found another bush and, after stabbing it a few times, bent to pick at the glossy red berries.


    Gunarra pulled a face that was hard to interpret with her inflated features. ¡°Arali gave the ghitti a fourth of what he lavished upon the galla. The gudhu he gave even less, not even a tenth. Is it any wonder they were less than slaves?¡±


    ¡°Funny choice of word, that.¡± Hasda glanced up from his gathering, his face twisted in a scowl. ¡°But you would know, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±


    Her tails flicked. ¡°You withhold your name while screaming your fallen master¡¯s. Kakka Me-Me condemned herself when she sided against mine.¡±


    The muscles in Hasda¡¯s jaw worked, and his fingers snapped twigs as he yanked at the berries.


    I took a step closer to him as I maneuvered myself between them. ¡°Explain.¡±


    The jackal sighed and shook her head. ¡°Kakka Me-Me was the djinn¡¯s former nirarin. Before Marudak could rise against the Sea Mother, he needed to ensure he wouldn¡¯t find himself staring up from the floor with a tuzshu¡¯s blade in his spine. The largest troop of tuzshu outside his control followed Kakka Me-Me, who belonged to the [name], a favored house of the Sea Mother and her chosen.¡± She bared her teeth as Hasda pulled harder at the bushes. ¡°So I took her bonds from her, to give the father of my mistress a chance to save her.¡±


    ¡°You tore her mind apart,¡± Hasda roared. Red juice dripped from his fist, the berries crushed. ¡°Stripped her soul bare and enslaved her djinn, only to present your ass the moment the bull betrayed his own daughter for the throne..¡±


    ¡°My mistress bore the mantle of warden with pride.¡± Gunarra growled, long and low. ¡°The tuzshu were a threat, as was I. While I would never have moved against her father, no matter how much I pleaded with her not to let herself be sacrificed for the Sea Mother¡¯s internment, without her hand on my leash I was but a rabid dog to him.¡± Ears flat, she looked down her nose at him. ¡°Bastard though he be, he is no fool. He saw clearly that, if he could turn the Sea Mother¡¯s machinations against her, the same could be done to him. So he broke the engines that enabled his triumph that no other could follow the path behind him.¡±


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t the only thing he broke.¡± The smile that crept across Hasda¡¯s face was cold and cruel.


    ¡°And what will your brothers say, djinn, when they catch up to you?¡± Gunarra¡¯s eyes flashed defiantly. ¡°Oh yes, you aren¡¯t the only one with claws. I¡¯ve half a mind to sniff out your dangling lead and bind it to myself.¡±


    Hasda¡¯s hand drifted towards his sword, and then he seemed to realize he¡¯d lost his food yet again. With a sigh, he wiped the juice onto his pants. ¡°If you¡¯d truly prove yourself useful, tell your jackals to bring food with them.¡±


    ¡°That would only delay them further,¡± she said, frowning.


    He shrugged. ¡°Suit yourself. But I¡­¡±


    Drawing his sword, he rose and dashed past us. Something in the underbrush crashed away, blundering through the forest detritus. Hasda hacked at a screen of branches blocking his way and ran after his quarry.


    It didn¡¯t take long for us to catch up to Hasda, or him his prey.


    Across from him stood a crusty orange skeleton. Its bones looked corroded, like metal long abandoned to the whims of the weather. All of its armor, if a helm and buckler could be so called, as well as its sword, had succumbed to the mottled turquoise of aged copper. Strangest of all was the rune carved into its forehead, a chevron with a circle at its zenith. Although the deteriorated skull softened its edges, the symbol remained distinct.


    Hasda charged as soon as the skeleton twitched its sword.

 Chapter 136: The Duraein

    Hasda stabbed the skeleton through its sigil as Gunarra screamed for him to stop.


    Sliding beneath the rim of the skeleton¡¯s weathered helmet, the sword pierced its forehead with a dry thunk. Even without djinn fire, the blade passed through easily and knocked the helmet off as the tip exited the back of the skull. Silent, the skeleton disintegrated into a puffy pile of rusty dust. Sword and buckler thunked to the ground, the helmet rolling away behind the pile.


    Gunarra gave a strangled cry. Head beneath her paws, she stared at the orange powder and whined. ¡°What have you done?¡±


    Shaking residual dust from his blade, he frowned at her. ¡°What do you think? I¡¯ve had enough with the undead.¡±


    ¡°That was not the Stitcher¡¯s work,¡± she snarled. ¡°My mistress chased those phantoms long enough to doubt her sanity. We thought them a fairy tale. And you.¡± She pushed to her paws and shook her head. ¡°The first one you see¡ªthe very first!¡ªyou put a blade through without a second thought.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s gone now.¡± Sheathing his sword, he turned and stomped off, purposefully striding through the dust and scattering it.


    Gunarra barked at his backside. ¡°You scorn what you know not. The Duraeins were the stuff of legends, warriors worthy of turning the tide against Marudak¡¯s aggression. If only we had found them sooner.¡±


    That gave him pause. When he turned, his face was riddled with confusion. ¡°That? It went down so easily.¡±


    ¡°Because it sought to communicate with you, you imbecilic dunce.¡± She snapped her jaw in the air. ¡°If it had wanted you dead, then you would have met your god of death before realizing its intentions.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re already well acquainted.¡± A soft smile slipped across his lips. ¡°Now, if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯m going to get something to eat for a third time. And this time I might just eat it as I go, poison be damned.¡±


    And with that he stalked off.


    ¡°He has no idea the riches he¡¯s squandered.¡± The jackal collapsed next to the orange mound and laid her head on her paws.


    ¡°More history you¡¯ll only mention in shredded scraps?¡± I asked.


    She humphed. ¡°Hithia should have been her sanctuary. Unable to find the Duraeins and with no tuzshu to her name, after her failure to contain the Sea Mother, the bastard bull found her destruction an easy task. But you would never understand.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to your moping, then.¡± I jogged to catch up to Hasda. He¡¯d wandered off to kick at some roots that looked promising, but eventually moved on to yet another berry bush. I stood silently behind him as he picked at the fruits, dark yellow clumps that looked like a distant cousin of mulberry.


    He chewed at a strand and spit out a pit.


    Sighing, I took a step to the side so I wasn¡¯t blocking the sun. ¡°You doing okay?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡± Another stringy berry went in, another pit went out. ¡°I¡¯m tired, still hungry, and taxed from losses and past grievances.¡± The welt in his armor pulsed with purple light, and he glared at it. ¡°You¡¯re not helping. I need to focus on finishing the tax at hand, and all you want to do is cry like you ran into a former lover.¡±


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Hasda.¡± I waited as he finished another honey-colored berry. ¡°I know it¡¯s been difficult for you, losing your men, and now this, but you don¡¯t have to finish this Trial. They¡¯re designed to test you, not break you.¡±


    His laugh almost caught the fruit in his throat. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be called a ¡®Trial¡¯ if it were easy.¡± He sighed. ¡°And I¡¯m not a child anymore. You don¡¯t need to coddle me. Yes, ¡®the mantle of leadership weighs heavy on those who bear it,¡¯ and all the other pithy wisdom you¡¯ve tried to instill in me for as far back as I can remember. Just because I¡¯m upset doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t still bear it.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°You don¡¯t need to force yourself beyond what you¡¯re able. Another aspect of leadership is knowing when to cut your losses. It¡¯s no use rowing a sunk ship.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s taking water, but it hasn¡¯t gone under yet.¡± He tried picking the seed out before eating the clump, but succeeded only in pulping it. Shrugging, he popped the juicy mush into his mouth. ¡°It¡¯s more than wanting to keep their lives from going to waste. They served well, and they went to their goddess of death when their time came. I don¡¯t feel any remorse over that.¡± The next pit went sailing towards a nearby tree. ¡°And it¡¯s not even about the prophecy, although I do still think about what would happen if I broke it.¡±


    ¡°Fail the Trial, if it means keeping yourself alive.¡± I crossed my arms and met his angry look. ¡°I mean it. There¡¯s no shame in admitting when you¡¯ve met your match. And tempting fate may not be the most pleasant experience, but I¡¯ve fought greater than destiny before.¡±


    He snorted, half a laugh. ¡°It¡¯s not like that.¡±


    ¡°Then explain it to me.¡±


    Sighing, he picked at the most recent fruit he¡¯d plucked. ¡°It¡¯s¡­a feeling. Like I¡¯m heading towards a metamorphosis, and the challenge of the Trial is the pressure I need for the transformation to occur. As if I¡¯ll lose the opportunity to reach such heights forever if I give up now.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°The only way you¡¯ll fail to soar is if you stumble your way to the grave. There¡¯s no possibility of future growth after that.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s an opening in a fight. True, others may come, but at a cost, and a totality of victory not even approached by later windows.¡±


    ¡°If you say so.¡±


    His eyes glistened with certainty. ¡°I¡¯m sure. And it¡¯s not Saran, or the prophecy, or any other whispered superstitions. I can feel it in my bones.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡± I sighed and unfolded my arms. ¡°But promise me you¡¯ll turn aside if continuing would mean your end. I could force you, if I had to, but I¡¯d rather not watch you waste away after I¡¯d done that.¡±


    ¡°That I can do.¡± He nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t think it will come to that, but I¡¯m not so sure of myself to ignore your advice. And I have people I want to get back to.¡±


    Grunting, I raised a brow at him. ¡°I thought I taught you your bestiary better than that.¡±


    His ears colored slightly. ¡°She¡¯s not the only¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, but she¡¯s first in your mind.¡± I patted his shoulder. ¡°And that¡¯s okay. It¡¯s good to have external anchors to keep you grounded from foolhardiness.¡±


    ¡°If I¡¯m interrupting, I can return.¡± Gunarra approached from behind us.


    ¡°Done moping?¡± I asked, keeping my hand on Hasda¡¯s shoulder as I turned.


    She sniffed. ¡°The expected jackals have arrived, bearing strange tidings besides. It seems the Stitcher has been otherwise engaged with an encroaching force from the east, though not the Elthiians. They did not recognize the scent.¡±


    Good to hear Malia was still doing well. ¡°So that would explain why the Stitcher has been sending animals instead of the Sleepless.¡±


    ¡°They also smelled oglelov trailing them. Both from the river and in the Weeping Queen¡¯s train.¡± The lion-faced jackal tilted her head. ¡°It is strange for them to be so far from Oglevaas.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°They¡¯re ambush predators, and this forest is practically empty. What prey is there for them? Unless they eat jackal.¡±


    Gunarra shook her head. ¡°They don¡¯t. And you know of them?¡±


    ¡°Long-neck feline things with scales instead of fur?¡± I grunted. ¡°Ran into a few of them after I met the Weeping Queen.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re death aspected, then.¡± She narrowed her eyes at me. ¡°Even stranger, that you would send a mortal to deal in matters of death.¡±


    Hasda squashed a handful of berries and drank their juice before tossing the leftovers. ¡°I¡¯m as sated as I can be on those. Will these oglelov be a hindrance?¡±


    ¡°Not if they remember my face.¡± I smiled. ¡°But even then, not likely. The worst they¡¯ll do is fall on you as you pass beneath them. You¡¯re short enough that their necks won¡¯t likely reach, and they¡¯d have to abandon their cover.¡±


    ¡°Which they¡¯re loath to do,¡± Gunarra added.


    Pushing to his feet, he wiped the residual juice off his hand. ¡°Then let¡¯s make use of what day we have left. I want to find a place to rest, and potentially observe the Stitcher¡¯s hold, before sunset.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already sent my jackals ahead.¡± Her three tails twitched as she took to her feet. ¡°They will alert us, should something amiss lie ahead.¡±


    Hasda turned, then paused and knelt down to scoop a few handfuls of golden fruit into a pouch. ¡°Let¡¯s hope they find nothing, then.¡±


    Gunarra dipped her head as Hasda set off. ¡°Lead on, Gracious One.¡±


    I frowned and shooed her ahead. ¡°Stay close to him in case your jackals miss something or the Stitcher outsmarts them. I¡¯ll bring up the rear.¡±


    Shrugging, the Sukalla loped after Hasda, keeping a few strides shy of his heels.

 Chapter 137: The Significance

    Although we moved at pace, we¡¯d only covered a third the remaining distance by midafternoon. Hasda set the pace, Gunarra always not quite at his side. Her jackals chattered back at us, but every time the Sukalla shook her head. Nothing to report.


    And so we moved on.


    The speed was nice, for Hasda¡¯s sake, but it felt like slow going, which was good for me. I hadn¡¯t so much as smelled an oglelov nearby, but Gunarra reported that there¡¯d been at least two among the trees we¡¯d passed, separated from the Weeping Queen¡¯s alleged train. Their unseen presence felt out of place. They belonged in the swamps and, unless they were hunting corpses, they¡¯d be forced to take a more vegetarian bent.


    What bothered me more than the oglelovs, though not quite as much as Gunarra¡¯s allegiance, was the thought that the Duraein held significance I¡¯d missed. Oh, the lion-faced jackal had lauded its praises, true, but there was a more immediate meaning to its presence. The skeletal soldier had come from somewhere, and its brand hinted that it marched to another¡¯s orders.


    But Gunarra certainly wasn¡¯t beating its drum. The Stitcher¡¯s magic was another brand entirely, not to mention he¡¯d been far preceded by whatever had animated its bones. And it had tried to communicate with Hasda before being cut down, without so much as twitching when he did. It must have recognized its imminent demise. Why, then, did it let the killing blow fall?


    There was something I was missing. It wasn¡¯t in the rune, though, because I¡¯d seen nothing like it before. And it wasn¡¯t in the bones because, as strange as their coloration was, they¡¯d gone to dust the moment their enchantment ended. The armor?


    I sucked a breath and passed it slowly through my nose. Ears twitching, Gunarra looked back at me, but I shook my head.


    It was the armor, and the sword. They¡¯d been of the same fashion as those in the strange in-between I¡¯d met the Serynis. So either those witches had been looking for, and found, these mythical soldiers, or they had stumbled through the Duraein domain and let one slip free. Maybe there were more, roaming these woods. Maybe not.


    I watched the jackal¡¯s three tails swish as she trotted behind Hasda. How much did she  truly know about these warriors? And how much was legend, her own or otherwise? But worse than that, how did the Serynis discover something that someone closer to the source, for far longer, had failed to find? And how had I bumbled behind them?


    If they truly didn¡¯t know what they were doing, odds were they¡¯d opened without knowing how to close, and I had come behind before they¡¯d realized they needed to seal the breach. I frowned. But they¡¯d certainly known enough to be worried about my presence.


    The Weeping Queen¡¯s daughter had been there, as well, taunting the sisters. For a place so difficult to find, it was starting to sound crowded. But maybe that was why the formless daughter had been there, to contest the pillaging of her land¡¯s mythical army. And though the Serynis had fought with the Sea Mother¡¯s strength, albeit inconsistently, their allegiance was still an unsure thing.


    When I¡¯d found them in that strange in-between place, they¡¯d had none of Tamiyat¡¯s stink. And they certainly hadn¡¯t been acting at the Weeping Queen¡¯s behest. That they¡¯d submitted to the Stitcher seemed the most obvious scenario, and what fledgling god wouldn¡¯t want a troop of legendary soldiers who¡¯d shed their mortality? But there¡¯d been a desperation to the Serynis¡¯ words that insinuated an uneasy alliance with the necromancer.


    Perhaps the Duraein were their way out, a force with which they could lay their own foundation. Or they¡¯d used the Duraeins to ingratiate themselves with the Sea Mother, to gain a more powerful ally. Or the elder goddess had folded both the witches and the necromancer beneath her wings, and we just hadn¡¯t yet seen the signs of the Stitcher¡¯s submission.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    So many unknowns, and no way to close the breaches.


    ¡°The stench of hard thinking lays heavy upon the air,¡± Gunarra said, half eyeing me.


    I grunted. ¡°I¡¯ve been around a long time. Maybe not quite so long as you, but still, this is the first I¡¯ve heard of these ¡®Duraeins.¡¯ And I¡¯ve heard a lot of legends.¡±


    Snorting, she looked ahead again. ¡°A fable of old that the horned boor plowed under the sands of time. Would you let legend of an immortal soldiery to rival the tuzshu you¡¯d just razed run rampant among your people?¡±


    An unseen root tripped me up as I processed what she said. I frowned at the protrusion, which somehow disappeared in the interim. ¡°The Duraein were god killers?¡±


    ¡°In some legends.¡± Her tails swished. ¡°In others, their lauded glory came from their devotion to their deity, who granted them immortality.¡±


    ¡°Not very immortal if they fall to pieces the moment their binding rune is broken.¡±


    Her ears flattened. ¡°It wasn¡¯t slain, merely dissolved. Its ashes returned from whence they came while I mourned the loss.¡±


    The thought of a silent skeletal warrior stealing behind us brought a frown to my face. ¡°Any other particularly insightful stories about them?¡±


    She flicked her tails, claws digging a little too deeply into the earth. ¡°They had already been shrouded in uncertainty before the bastard bull stomped out what remnants remained. And none so useful as to locate their burial grounds, or the means to resurrect them.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said they were immortal.¡± I grinned at her backwards frown. ¡°Or is that part of the not dying we just witnessed?¡±


    ¡°As I bear witness to the progenitor of this tuzshu¡¯s flippancy.¡± Tossing her head, she trotted a little closer to Hasda. ¡°You ask as many questions as I myself once did, chasing the vapors of their rumors on the wind with my mistress. Would speculation satisfy your curiosity? Mine was not.¡±


    ¡°I guess not.¡± Something in the way she carried herself, maybe the swagger in her shoulders, spoke of secrets she congratulated herself in shielding from me, but then again, she infused enough of the truth to mask the scent of the lie. It didn¡¯t take many generations for a forefather¡¯s half-remembered ramblings to be forgotten, especially if the heavens were determined to see them expunged.


    But she knew some kernel of truth that had given her enough faith to seriously hunt the Duraein, however long ago that had been.


    Excited yipping ahead brought us to a standstill. Gunarra tilted her head, listening, then sent back a series of eager yelps. The ranging pair of jackals were close together, but far enough apart that their barks belied the distance between them. Digging her claws into the dirt, the Sukalla whined and then yapped a few short commands.


    Hasda¡¯s head followed her as she darted ahead of him. ¡°Another one so soon?¡±


    She spun, her eyes boring into him. ¡°How did you understand that?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Lucky guess.¡±


    Frowning, she thumped the ground with her tails. ¡°Luck was a bitch every time I met her. Is she your mistress?¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡± He shook his head. ¡°But, of the things you¡¯ve shown an interest in, the Duraeins are the only possible reason for you to be this excited. If it were your mistress, I doubt you¡¯d still be here.¡±


    Her eyes thinned. ¡°Yes. As duplicitous as your sulking deity deems me, only my mistress would motivate such a breach of faith. But I have promised to lead you to the Hall of Balphar, and lead I shall.¡±


    I stepped up behind Hasda. ¡°So another delay. How long before your jackals return? Or can you send for more?¡±


    A low growl rumbled in her throat. ¡°Such diversion will not be necessary. We are close. With good speed, we shall see the walls of the Hall by day¡¯s end.¡±


    ¡°Haste straight into an ambush would lead to a failure I¡¯m wont to witness.¡± I frowned at her. ¡°Your face still looks like you bathed your snout in a nest of hornets.¡±


    She bared her fangs. ¡°My nose can smell well enough now to reach our destination at a pace that does not drag maddeningly.¡±


    Folding my arms, I stared her down. ¡°The line between ¡®safe¡¯ and ¡®safe enough¡¯ has formed the hangman¡¯s noose enough to keep generations of boneyardsmen busy. I¡¯ll not be having his neck numbered among them.¡±


    ¡°I will lead,¡± she snapped. ¡°My body his shield, my life his surety. Though it strains the fibers of my being to see this pledge fulfilled, still will I see it done.¡±


    I held her glare. ¡°Hasda?¡±


    He sighed, sagging a little. I hated how weighed down he looked like that. ¡°With how little you get from this commitment and how distracted you are, it seems unwise to follow you. But I would likewise be remiss if I forced you to hold to such a lopsided agreement. If you wish to chase these Duraeins, then go. We are near enough to the Stitcher that I can find my own way.¡±


    The jackal clacked her teeth and surged to her feet, stalking past him. ¡°My word is not so cheap that I would break it now. Follow. Before nightfall, I will show you the walls.¡±


    Shrugging, Hasda plodded after her. The weight that had settled kept his shoulders bowed. I scowled and hurried after them. When the Trial ended, I would do what I could to pull that burden off him, or lessen it if I could not. But I wouldn¡¯t let Gunarra lead alone. Something had my hackles up, and until I found out what I¡¯d have to keep an eye on her.


    Hasda had come too far to fail now.

 Chapter 138: The Pit

    Despite Gunarra¡¯s assurances, it still took more than a day to reach the former capital of  Batavii. Our approach was suspiciously peaceful, with not even an undead animal to pester us. Gunarra took it as a good sign, but Hasda looked as uneasy as I felt.


    Although we could have pushed through the night to make our destination, Hasda called a halt. He wanted to arrive fresh, shortly after dawn, to put his best foot forward. His enemies were Sleepless, but he was not.


    We spent a cold, fireless night waiting out the morn.


    The sunrise brought no warmth, the chill chasing us onwards as we approached the edge of the forest. Hasda had finished the last of the lumpy berries before we set off, streaking residue on his leathers where he absently wiped his hands. The djinn fire had flared briefly when we started, drawing Gunarra¡¯s eyes, but quickly faded.


    As we neared our destination, the jackal pressed ahead, and I with her. Hasda fell behind, but not enough for us to lose him. Gunarra seemed to strain against any delay, barely scenting as she charged ahead. I stayed on her heels, wary of any potential tricks.


    It wasn¡¯t long before the trees thinned as we neared the place where Balphar¡¯s Hall lay. Piles of rotten corpses filled the clearing ahead, dozens of flies buzzing around the cadavers. It seemed the insects had no fear of the necromancer, their flocks forming a false haze above the scattered huts. More corpses, these more complete, patrolled in pairs or squads around the perimeter.


    Gunarra crept on her stomach to the forest¡¯s edge. ¡°The Stitcher will be in the main hall, if that other conflict hasn¡¯t drawn him out yet.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope he¡¯s home.¡± I stared at the distant hall, but saw no sign of the Stitcher. ¡°Can your jackals get in without being seen?¡±


    Gunarra shook her head. ¡°Not without¡ª¡±


    The ground collapsed behind us, swallowing Hasda.


    ¡°No!¡± I rushed over, but I was far too slow. And the pit looked deep. I¡¯d probably need my astral form just to reach him, if he survived the fall.


    Undead moans chased the putrid stench that hit me as I reached the edge of the sinkhole. I coughed, swiping at the rancid air that assaulted my nose. ¡°Hasda!¡±


    Purple fire flickered faintly from the bottom. Bones crunched, metal rang, and Hasda¡¯s shouts mingled with the enraged howls that chased his frantic movements. The walls of the pit bent in a way that blocked my view of the bottom.


    Shit.


    Shit shit shit.


    Sounds of conflict were good. It meant Hasda wasn¡¯t dead yet. And Saran was providing both illumination and support. But I could barely breath from the stench rising from this shithole, which meant Hasda would be suffocating in it. And, from the sounds of it, the whole pit was filled with the Sleepless. Not good odds for Hasda holding his own, let alone surviving.


    If I pulled him out, the Trial was forfeit.


    But if I didn¡¯t, there might not be a Hasda to pull out. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    And there was no way Kydon would be able to assess the situation, if I couldn¡¯t even sense how many undead were down there.


    Loud purring erupted behind me. I whirled, Sword in hand before I¡¯d thought to summon it. ¡°You.¡±


    Paws crossed, Gunarra gave me the most pleased grin. ¡°What wonderful fortune has befallen us.¡±


    My hands flexed on the hilt. ¡°You have one breath to explain why I shouldn¡¯t run you through right now.¡±


    ¡°On what grounds?¡± Head tilted, she gave me a quizzical look. ¡°I have kept my word. I promised to get him as far as the forest¡¯s edge, in exchange for my questions answered. And the most pressing of all is the quality of this unleashed tuzshu.¡± She yawned. ¡°If he can¡¯t handle himself in this, with an aura greater than mine, what point is there throwing him at some lesser god, just to watch him die? Better to test his mettle now.¡±


    She yelped as I pounced, lifting her by the throat and slamming her to earth.


    ¡°You stupid conniving bitch.¡± I pressed my Sword against her neck. ¡°You work for the Stitcher, don¡¯t you?¡±


    She bared her fangs, writhing beneath my grip. ¡°So strong, and yet you never noticed the lead tied to my collar.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°So you¡¯re, what, betraying him by helping us?¡±


    Her ears went flat as she growled. ¡°I attend to the interests of none but my mistress. He has twisted her collar and leashed what he should not. I cannot bite the hand that binds me with as tight a rope as he holds.¡± She sighed. ¡°Weak as he may be, compared to a great god such as you, he is still greater than I. And he would not free a possible rival, like my mistress, while he could not assure himself of his position of power. The land is too unstable, and his grip is far too tenuous for his liking.¡±


    My head spun. ¡°Then why lead Hasda into an ambush?¡±


    ¡°This is the best test of his character.¡± Her eyes burned with fervor. ¡°Troublesome enough was convincing the Stitcher to spare so many from his fight against the other force. When the tuzshu has prevailed, the necromancer will know his toys are broken, and he will be scared. He depends on your hero succumbing to this trap, such has he committed to this gambit.¡±


    ¡°That ¡®other force¡¯ is my wife.¡± Shaking my head, I flung her away. So the Stitcher had tethered her, and made her dance on his leash. And the captivity had driven her mad.


    The howls of the zombies had lessened, and Hasda still bellowed war cries. That the sounds of his opposition were diminishing was a good sign, but there were still a lot of them.


    Gathering her legs under her, the jackal limped towards me. ¡°The final question has yet to be answered.¡±


    I tracked her approach with the tip of my Sword. ¡°And what is that?¡±


    A hungry grin split her lips. Eyes glowing, she lurched as she missed a step, then settled herself near the edge of the pit.


    And then the air shimmered around her.


    It wasn¡¯t quite the rending of a Veil, but a sharp relief that edged the Sukalla and galvanized her fur. Heat¡ªfrom neither the morning chill nor the subtle warmth of the djinn fire in the pit¡ªradiated from some hidden furnace in her chest. Curled in delight, her trio of tails magnified what sunlight there was to an almost blinding degree.


    Worst of all were her legs.


    Although she showed no sign of the Stitcher¡¯s binding, she wore a history of chains through her flesh. Not on, for whoever had set those hooks in her forelegs had pierced the gaps between her bones and forged them shut. Dozens of broken chains dangled from these fleshhooks, three, four, six bloodstained links long at most. Their metallic clanking was almost as unsettling as the way her muscles shifted from the shifting hooks as much as her own movement.


    She snarled, snapping at a thin, wispy, white thread that snaked from the edge of the pitfall and traced a lazy arc to my chest. Her eyes blazed as she limped a hop towards me. ¡°You!¡±


    I gave her a hard smile. ¡°Surprised it took you so long.¡±


    Disgust drenched her face. ¡°Besides the stupidity of binding an agent of mortality to a being divine? I have seen strays running the streets who were better cared for than this tuzshu.¡±


    I frowned, edging closer. From the sounds in the pit, the Sleepless were slowly succumbing to whom they¡¯d meant to be their prey, but enough remained to keep Hasda under. I lifted my Sword as Gunarra bared her teeth. ¡°I do what is best for my son, not some long-dead order of god killers.¡±


    ¡°Your son? But he is thoroughly mortal.¡± Lips curled, she shook her head. ¡°Not even the basest nirarin would abuse their tuzshu so, untried and malnourished as this one has been. And for a long time now, as well. It is a wonder that the bond has not burned out and consumed them both.¡±


    ¡°Letting the djinn do as he pleases would consume my boy,¡± I growled. ¡°I will rip that spirit off him with my bare hands before I let it erode even a sliver of what makes him who he is.¡±


    She yipped a derisive laugh. ¡°Dissolve the bond? Set the noose yourself and string him by your own hands if you want his death a surer thing.¡±


    I must¡¯ve let my aura slip a little, because she paled almost as fast as she hid her three tails between her legs.


    ¡°Mayhaps you can do as you say,¡± she whimpered, backing away. ¡°But I have said my peace. His blood be upon your hands.¡±


    And then she turned and fled.


    Vanishing my Sword, I forced myself to breathe slowly through my nose. It took a moment for me to realize the sounds from the pit had stopped. With Gunarra gone, the tether between my boy and me had faded. The forest was eerily quiet. Not even the sound of labored breathing, muffled though it would have been, clawed its way from the dark maw.


    I waited, but Hasda didn¡¯t climb out.

 Chapter 139: The Entrails

    Movement at the edge of the pit.


    A taloned hand, wreathed in dark flames, clawed its way out.


    Two instincts warred within me, and only when the one had won did I realize the fight had occurred. My hands flexed at my side, and I was halfway into a guard stance before the urge not to draw a weapon on my chosen overrode every battle sense screaming within me. Centuries of experience hated what dragged itself out of that pitfall, spiked cold certainty in my bones that the thing which survived deserved to die.


    And then the flames went out, leaving a panting Hasda prone on the ground.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he whispered, arms shaking as he pushed himself up. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to¡­That wasn¡¯t¡­¡± Sweat flew as he shook his head. ¡°I lost control.¡±


    ¡°You lived.¡± I couldn¡¯t keep the scowl off my face, but neither could I keep my distance. Holding his arm, I helped him to his feet. ¡°That¡¯s what matters. No reason to let yourself fail so close to the finish.¡±


    ¡°I saw my reflection.¡± Face pale, his unfocused gaze drifted to the distant city. ¡°All it would have taken was a single step through that glass, and I don¡¯t think I would have come back. I don¡¯t know why I didn¡¯t.¡± He went still. ¡°They were all around me. Hands, everywhere. Teeth. Nails. Bones.¡± A shiver racked him. ¡°Holes in places they shouldn¡¯t be.¡±


    ¡°What glass?¡±


    Although his eyes found my face, his focus didn¡¯t. ¡°A metaphor which is not. A boundary which, once crossed, cannot be uncrossed. A vision of what could be, and likely will.¡± He shook his head again. ¡°It¡¯s like the tuzshu is no longer bottled, but me. No matter what, if the vessel cracks, I shatter.¡±


    ¡°Hey.¡± I firmed my grip, pulling his gaze back to reality. ¡°No fate is certain. If you can¡¯t control the djinn, I¡¯ll put him to earth right now.¡±


    His smile was sad. ¡°I think we both know it¡¯s too late for that. But I wouldn¡¯t, even if you could. There¡¯s¡­¡± Frowning, he let his eyes drift back towards the city in the distance. ¡°Saran will be by my side to the end. You have misgivings, as do I, but I know him well enough to know that we will make it through this together.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°I know I don¡¯t talk about my former champions, and for good reason. More than I would like spent themselves achieving goals beyond the reach of mortals.¡±


    He gave me an uncertain look, one I couldn¡¯t hold.


    I turned my face away so I could voice the history that needed to be said. ¡°My first two heroes flourished in the early days of Carthia. When I was first, and only, the God of War, and when the infant isles sailed from their birthplace for the first time. The first threw off the yoke of the land which had seeded ours, and the second made Carthia synonymous with trade. But my third champion suffered from my lack of temperance.¡±


    ¡°Dad, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Let me finish.¡± I took a breath. ¡°While Carthia had established itself among the merchants of the Great Sea, not every nation took kindly to our upstart. Especially those who were likewise in their maritime infancy. Maithanni was a landlocked country, save for its singular port, Ahaltala. Although they lagged more than a century behind Carthian progress, they made up for it with aggression, both in commerce and conflict.¡±


    Dropping my hand, I sighed. ¡°The success of my first two champions blinded me to human mortality. The Maithanni guarded Ahaltala with the same fierceness they showed at sea, maybe moreso. It was their sole foothold in naval trade. And so I sent Victis to conquer it.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°And he failed?¡±


    I barked a laugh. ¡°Hardly. He passed through their defenses like a living specter, and he paid accordingly for that sorcery. By the time the Carthian ships¡ªbarely enough to be called a fleet¡ªlanded, he had spilled countless bowels on the docks, his own among them. His final breath he used to name the entrails a sacrifice befitting the task we had set before him. That I had set. And I¡¯d yet to touch the Mantle of Death that would have let me ferry him gently into the afterlife.¡±


    Hasda¡¯s face hardened. ¡°I¡¯m not going to waste myself completing this Trial.¡±


    ¡°No?¡± My eyes stung a little as I tried to pin him with my sternest look. ¡°You nearly crawled out of that trap a creature less than human. Despite the fact that your single-minded drive to confront the Stitcher has pushed you closer to this monstrosity, you¡¯re hell-bent on diving head-first into the fire. And you¡¯re nowhere near ready for the only sure way to avoid this doom.¡±


    He blinked.


    I found myself trembling, although I couldn¡¯t parse the cocktail of frustration, rage, and fear that fueled it. Or wouldn¡¯t. But I clenched my fists and pressed on. ¡°Even when I became the God of Death, I couldn¡¯t save my fallen champions. Peklo claims all souls, draws them down its gullet, until every last one is devoured in oblivion. Leaving a lasting legacy lessens the loss, but the waves of time eventually reduce even the strongest mark to an indistinct lump. Only divinity brings you outside its grasp.¡±


    ¡°And Saran complicates my potential transcendence.¡± Uncharacteristic sardony sullied his voice. ¡°I know you want to protect me and provide a future surpassing normal mortal scope, but I¡­¡± He sighed, a younger echo of my own. ¡°I know it¡¯s because of all you¡¯ve already done for me that the ambrosia healed, instead of sickening me, like it did my men. And I understand that the road of a hero is long and uncertain, and even with you and Malia watching over me I¡¯m in danger at every turn. But these Trials are about me proving my worth, not a testament to my patrons¡¯ more than generous provisions.


    ¡°So I¡¯ll see this Trial through. And to do that, I need to do things my way. Please.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°While I know you believe what you¡¯re saying, I can¡¯t trust that djinn of yours. You very nearly lost yourself against non-divine enemies. How will you keep yourself when facing a god?¡±


    Scowling, he stepped back and crossed his arms. ¡°Because now that I¡¯ve seen the edge, I know where the line is and how to avoid it.¡±


    ¡°Many a sailor has been lost to waves they thought tamed.¡± My heart hurt at the way his frown deepened, but I wouldn¡¯t withhold the truth to bolster false optimism. ¡°It¡¯s not a failure of character to find something beyond you.¡±


    ¡°Be that as it may, I must persist in this endeavor.¡±


    My eyes narrowed. ¡°You know something. Did Phemono? have another vision?¡±


    That caused him to avert his gaze.


    I sighed. It was bad enough she¡¯d had that branching glimpse of Hasda¡¯s future, with the only certainty being his Trials concluding after this one. While I¡¯d tried to keep that from Hasda, I was pretty sure he¡¯d discovered it somewhere along the way. But if she¡¯d seen something else, and kept it from me¡­It boded no good tidings.


    Unclenching my fists, I forced myself to relax my muscles as best I could. ¡°How much did she convey to you?¡±


    His finger beat a furious rhythm on his arm. ¡°She said not to tell you about it, lest it, uh, ¡®influence¡¯ your actions. But considering you found it out¡­¡±


    I grunted. ¡°Her sight seems to have shifted from certainties to probabilities. Just tell me what you can, and we¡¯ll steer clear of self-fulfilling prophecies.¡±


    ¡°She saw my fight with the Stitcher.¡± He dropped his gaze to his boots, which were absently scuffing the grass.


    When he didn¡¯t continue, I rolled my hand. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°Not like, in a vision. Well, it was a vision, but she saw me battling him. Like, she was physically there, witnessing it.¡± His eyes met mine, betraying a cocktail of emotions as jumbled as mine. ¡°Obviously she wouldn¡¯t say how the conflict went, but what she saw in the Stitcher upset her.¡± He paused. ¡°Where¡¯s Gunarra?¡±


    ¡°Gone.¡± I frowned at the subject change and the recent, raw wound it touched. ¡°Although she implied she wasn¡¯t willingly in league with the Stitcher, she was wholly responsible for pitching you headlong off the metaphorical cliff in the hopes you¡¯d fly.¡±


    He gave me a confused look.


    ¡°The pit wasn¡¯t the Stitcher¡¯s trap alone.¡± I pointed past him at the hole he¡¯d clawed from. ¡°She¡ªrightly¡ªjudged that you hadn¡¯t fully assumed the role of a tuzshu, and she tried to bind herself to you as your nirarin.¡±


    ¡°But I thought you held that bond.¡±


    ¡°Which she was pleasantly surprised to discover.¡± I glared at the sudden flash of djinn fire across his chestplate. ¡°Has the battle rush worn off?¡±


    ¡°Mostly.¡± He shrugged, then more slowly rolled his left shoulder. ¡°A little sore from the fall, but nothing broken.¡±


    ¡°No bites? Scratches? Blade wounds?¡±


    Another shrug. ¡°They bore no swords, and Saran¡¯s flames kept them off, as far as I remember.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°We need to find a stream to get you washed up and inspected. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll appreciate the delay, but I¡¯m not letting you face off against an unknown quantity of increasing murkiness without first making sure you¡¯re free of infections and curses.¡±


    ¡°Really, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    I shook my head sternly. ¡°You can fight, but not until after this. I¡¯ll withdraw you from the Trial otherwise.¡±


    Dropping his head, he acceded.

 Chapter 140: The Mouthpiece

    The search at the stream supported his statement that the djinn fire had shielded him. Outside of a few minor bruises and scratches from his tumble springing the trap, he was mostly unharmed. Backtracking had eaten the morning, and a delayed breaking of his fast consumed the final hour until noon. The sun was tipping past its zenith by the time we reached the forest¡¯s edge again.


    As Hasda edged out of the forest, I ducked into the Veil and finally noticed that Kydon had slipped away. It must have been while Hasda was dealing with the pit, but the arbiter had made no indication of his departure. Why he would choose now, at the cusp of the Trial¡¯s conclusion, to abandon us confused me. Perhaps he¡¯d tracked Gunarra as she left, or perhaps he¡¯d already split to investigate the Duraeins.


    Whatever the reason, his absence meant that Hasda¡¯s party had dwindled to my champion and myself.


    An ill omen for the final hurdle.


    Crouching, Hasda crept away from cover, heading directly for Balphar¡¯s Hall. It was unsettling, my boy in the open, no undead opposing him. He¡¯d drawn his sword but kept the djinn fire unlit. Silence blanketed the scene, save for the soft scuff of his boots across the dirt.


    When he had nearly reached the first buildings, the bones came to life.


    With dry rattles, the scattered piles of bleached skeletons spiraled together, forming a jumbled tornade. Wider and wider it spun, until it¡¯d grown to thrice the length of Hasda¡¯s outstretched arms. Then it froze, shivered, and collapsed, spilling splintered bone shards over the ground.


    As the dust settled, a haphazard behemoth rose. Formed from the discarded bones, its head was uneven, its arms mismatched. One shoulder rose high above the other, giving it a sense of perpetually falling, and yet its lack of legs gave it a strangely sturdy foundation. It seemed to sprout from the ground, its spine planted firmly under the topsoil where its pelvis should have been.


    Dirt waterfalled from its jagged jaw as it screamed soundlessly at Hasda.


    He waited until it lunged, ducking inside its outstretched arms and hacking at the fold of its right elbow. The lower limb detached, and then the shards swirled back into place as Hasda darted out of reach. Another lurch, another segment shattered and reformed. While it made no move to advance beyond an invisible border, it also ensured that Hasda couldn¡¯t cross that line.


    Frustrated, Hasda threw himself at the colossus. A clever twist brought his blade up its forearm, driving a wedge between its second and third finger that carried the strike nearly to its shoulder. The bones were almost paper thin, they offered such little resistance. Yet this wounded it no more than the previous strikes, even though Hasda followed this attack with several sound blows to its ribcage. Cleaving its jaw from its face, severing its spine, nearly decapitating it¡ªall shrugged off with relentless regeneration.


    Hasda voiced his own growl, violet fire igniting along his blade. But the flames hindered more than helped. With the djinn fire active, the sword stuck more easily in the bones, nearly getting wrenched from Hasda¡¯s grip. And it did nothing to scorch the skeleton or prevent it reassembling. So Hasda forewent the fire.


    Before they could fully settle into a stalemate, the giant whipped its head westward, snarled silently, and lurched off. Fingers digging into earth, it pulled itself away at amazing speed, cutting an arc along the edge of the village with its grounded spine. Not two blinks, and it was nearly out of sight. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to have drawn its attention. No sudden smoke or sounds of battle, and no surge of power, at least that I could sense. But the construct had arisen in response to Hasda¡¯s arrival, so if it had been set to guard the perimeter, whatever had drawn it away posed a greater threat than my boy.


    Now there¡¯s a thought.


    Hasda wiped away his own confusion and faced the village again. After waiting to see if the colossus would return and checking for possible ambushes, he slid across the boundary and officially entered the town. Fingernails of purple fire, no more than three at a time, danced around his back as the djinn waited to be summoned once more.


    Ahead of Hasda lay a straight stretch of road, empty until a trio of Sleepless burst into view from a taller house a good bowshot away. Strangely, they staggered to arrange themselves before walking abreast of each other, approaching Hasda with their hands raised in supplication. They kept their gait slow and measured, and made no move to attack or disperse when he flashed his sword.


    The middle undead, tallest of the three, stumbled to a sitting position perhaps ten strides from Hasda. ¡°We be the mouthpiece of the one you seek.¡± Its voice wheezed, as if an invisible hand pressed the air from its chest. ¡°He seeks an audience with his persistent adversary.¡±


    ¡°He waits until I stand within his walls to seek parley?¡± Hasda sneered at the withered corpse. ¡°We have withstood hunger, famine, siege, and assault. Been forced to fight our own, stripped of their honor and the rest due them in death. Seen visions of our own impending demise as we wrestled with sleep deprivation on top of our mental and physical fatigue from being given no quarter, neither day nor night. Yet now, now, with death knocking on his door, now he shrivels and cowers and searches for a way to escape his fate.¡±


    As the middle undead sagged, the left raised its head. ¡°He wishes merely for you to see him, as he has finally seen you.¡±


    The right one nodded. ¡°Now that he knows you for what you truly are, he knows you will understand him for who he is, when you see.¡±


    ¡°Tell me why I shouldn¡¯t behead the lot of you and march directly to the Stitcher.¡±


    Skin split on the face of the middle Sleepless as it smiled at him. ¡°You will see, and understand. Come, comprehend. We are not long for this world, despite the extension granted by our master. He shall enlighten you.¡±


    Hasda leveled his sword at the undead. ¡°Your master already saw fit to throw me in a pit and leave me for dead. Were it not for my own skill, I would not be standing here. And now you announce your own impending demise.¡± He smiled with a ferocity to rival Malia¡¯s. ¡°I think I¡¯d rather you fell second dead. I¡¯ll see the Stitcher on my own terms.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± The trio sighed. ¡°If you will not convene, our master shall send our brethren on your unprotected loved ones.¡±


    The leftmost smiled at his consternation. ¡°What? You thought your entrance unimpeded by our master¡¯s hospitality? Your advance was not unknown to him. So he, likewise, has sent his own envoy to the village you abandoned.¡±


    Hasda¡¯s nostrils flared. ¡°You really think I would leave them unprotected? Not only that, the Stitcher has been slowly weakening as this siege has gone on. Don¡¯t think I haven¡¯t noticed how the amount and grade of undead has diminished these past months. Even the monstrosities he sends, however experimental he claims they were, numbered but a handful, when before they would have walled in the village.¡±


    The right Sleepless shook its head. ¡°If you wish to call our master¡¯s proclamation a bluff, then you will have no way of verifying the consequences until it is too late to avert their fate. We, however, will see through the eyes of our brethren your people¡¯s demise.¡±


    ¡°More information games, yet you keep revealing the lot cast under your cup.¡± He grinned as they shifted. ¡°Oh yes, I know. The Sleepless move independent of your master. We¡¯ve tested numerous strategies to determine how directly the Stitcher interferes with you undead, and time and again we¡¯ve seen directives carried out until order gives way to chaos. So unless your master is an idiot, he¡¯s only capable of so much.¡±


    ¡°Be that as it may, come and see.¡± The middle one twitched, its arms going stiff at odd angles. ¡°He would have you witness his form, and he wishes to look upon the face of so tenacious an adversary. If you wish to slay him and steal his staff, he prays that luck smile upon you as you seek to corral undead loosed from his control. But, perhaps, the terms he offers, when you see and know, shall be acceptable to you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve walked into enough traps as it is, thank you.¡±


    With piercing wails, the flanking Sleepless shriveled and toppled beside the middle speaker. Its teeth flashed as it smiled at Hasda. ¡°A token of peace, and a sign of authenticity. Our master truly wishes to converse face-to-face, to discuss a truce and an end to conflict. And, mayhaps, an alliance.¡±


    Hasda scoffed. ¡°It is best to placate the tiger before it¡¯s climbed into one¡¯s hut.¡±


    The Sleepless dipped its head. ¡°And even a tiger may be persuaded, when hunters are afoot. But, go, meet my master. I am afraid my legs no longer work. You know the way.¡± It pointed behind itself to the distant hall which stood in the center of the village. ¡°He will be behind his lodging, attending to his craft.¡±


    And with that, the corpse collapsed next to its fallen comrades.