Two (The Godslayer Cycle Book 2) (14 page)

“The magic...” started Brea.  “Whatever it is that Imery left in me.  I don't know how to control it right.  It was there, it was rising, but I wasn't exactly
aiming
it.  It was just coming out and I didn't know what to do about it.”

Nathan continued to glare at the priestess for a moment before he stood back up.  “So you're saying you're more dangerous than not.”

Brea flushed in anger.  “I'm not saying any such thing!”

“
But you are.  You just said you can't control whatever is going on inside you, whether it's magic or something else.”

It's like talking to a wall
, Brea thought.  “Look, I said it was rising up, that it would have, well, vented.  But it didn't have any form or structure like a spell.  I don't think it would have done anything or caused any harm.  Magic requires focus, a form for it to take.  This...  I'm not dangerous!”

“
You don't
think
is just another way of saying you don't
know
,” said Nathan.

Brea took a deep, steadying breath.  “You're right,” she admitted.  “I don't know.  But neither do you.  Neither does anyone, except maybe one of the Gods.  I know all about the Godslayer stories of lore, and not one of them ever said anything about a God's power surviving his death.  So this is entirely new.  For me, for you, by the Pit, for all of Na'Ril.”

Nathan scrunched his brow.  “In what way?  Seems to me, it's only you.”

“
Think about it, Nathan.  I am one priestess.  Imery had thousands in her clergy.  Am I the only one afflicted like this, or is something happening to
all
her priests?  There's no reason to believe I am the only one this is happening to.  And you're planning on going around the countryside and killing a lot more Gods, and each one of their priests could have the same thing happen to them.  So yes, this is new for everyone.  By destroying the Gods, you might be creating more harm than even their arguably manipulative games could cause.”

Nathan fell silent, his inner conflict visible on his face.

“Hate ta say it, Nate,” offered Bracken.  “Bu' she might 'ave a point.”

“
I know,” breathed Nathan.  “I know.”  Nathan reached over his shoulder to re-sheath his sword.  Brea had not even realized he had drawn it.  Once his hand was free, he extended it towards the priestess.  “I beg your forgiveness.  Truce?”

Brea blinked in astonishment.  “Just like that?”  She looked to her side to gauge the dwarf's reaction and saw for the first time they were back at the fusang tree where they had tied the horses.  As if in acknowledgment of the fact that she had at last taken notice of them, one of the horses nickered and shook its head.

Nathan shrugged.  “Bracken's right.  And you're right.  I'm the one who's wrong.  I shouldn't have assumed you were a threat.  I should have been more understanding about what you're going through, and not assumed the worst.  So yes, just like that.”  The man thrust his hand out further still.

Brea reached up and tentatively shook the proffered hand.  But once they had shook, Nathan did not immediately release his grip.

“I meant what I said.  If you
do
ever try to use magic on us, I won't be so forgiving.  But we need to trust each other.  My mother raised me better – by the Pit,
Mari
taught me better.  So I promise to try harder.”

With that, Nathan released her hand and turned back in the direction they had been heading.  “How much further, Bracken?”

“I 'magine only a shor' bit.  We weren' too far back in th' trees when we lost ya.”

Once again, the trio set off, each now guiding a horse of their own.  This time, though, Nathan took the lead, with Brea following him and Bracken taking up the rear.  Bracken secured the lead of the pack horse to his own mount, assuring that the fourth beast would follow behind them.  It was this excuse he used for bringing up the rear.

Say what they will, but the dwarf wants to keep his eyes on me
, Brea thought.

But then she thought of Nathan and his response.  He had responded to what he thought was a threat, but as soon as he was proven wrong, he accepted it and set aside the grievance.  When had a man she had known
ever
done that?  Men she had known were prideful and arrogant, never giving ground, especially when they were wrong.  And yet Nathan barely took a breath before he admitted his mistake and asked for her forgiveness. 

Once again, Brea found herself incapable of finding fault in Nathan.  If she didn't know better, she would have believed him a saint, a blessed man of faith.

But no, Brea chastised herself.  He had faults.  He was quick to anger, for one, even if each instance may have been justifiable.  He was not exactly the most learned man she had ever known, and yet his simple backwoods common sense often outstripped her church-bred education.  And then there was the fact that he was intolerably without faith, even if he did act in the service of the heathenly Old Gods.

Brea sighed inwardly.  The man was a mass of contradictions.  And even when she could find fault in him, she could just as quickly find redemption in his failings.  She recalled that when first she had been sent by Imery to unmask Nathan, it was under the mistaken belief that Nathan had
been
one of the Old Gods masquerading as a mortal. 

That had been the first drastic misstep of Imery's – convincing Brea that the man she had become besotted with was a God.  The priestess now knew he was not, knew he was mortal.  Yet somehow, even in knowing he was mortal, she could not escape the almost divine aspects of his character.

Within minutes, Bracken's prediction proved true, and the trees parted to reveal the worn dirt of the common road.  None of the paths through the Wildelands were especially well cared for, but at least they were kept reasonably clear enough to allow convoys to pass through.  So there was never any doubt when one came across a road, even if it were not paved or marked in any way.

“
Brea, let me ask you something else,” offered Nathan.  He did not turn around as he spoke, turning first one direction and then the next to look for anyone else who might be on the road.  But Brea could imagine the look on his face while he spoke.  There would be no resentment, no grudge, no signs of any thoughts of getting even.  For Nathan, the misunderstanding was indeed in the past, and she had every reason to believe that is where it would remain.

“
Okay,” said Brea.

“
You say you read about other religions.  Did you ever read anything about what the Old Gods were before they were like they are now?”

Brea walked over to where Nathan stood.  The man was examining the darkening sky overhead, most likely judging whether there were any point in trying to continue on that day.  “What do you mean exactly?”

“I mean, are there any stories about
other
Gods, other than the nine we know today?”

Brea rifled through her memories, considering how to respond to Nathan's question.  “There was one story that comes to mind.  Something about a dark God, like a demon opposed to all of the others.  Many primitive religions have that kind of negative counterpart to their Gods, the ultimate threat or temptation designed to show the faithful what would happen if they didn't remain true.”

“What happened to him?  Do you know?”

“
I don't know that anything
did
happen.  It was just a collection of old stories that I remember reading in the archives.  Just old myths that no one, not even the remaining faithful of the Old Gods, considered true.”

“
Did he have a name?”

Brea thought for a moment.  “If the books named him, I don't remember it.  I just remember the stories, not a name or anything.  Why is this suddenly so important?”

“I just need to find out as much as I can, alright?”

“
No, it's not alright,” scolded Brea.  “You talk about trusting each other, but how can we trust you if you're keeping secrets?  Obviously, you met someone who has filled your head full of stories and ideas, but for some reason, you won't let us know what you were told.  Suddenly, you've become the all-wise arbiter of knowledge, deciding who is or is not deserving.  You want information from me?  Then you need to return the favor.  Who did you find back in those woods that you won't tell us about?”

Nathan blanched.  “Really, I can't tell you and you need to not ask.  I know it's a lot to ask, but I need you to trust in my judgment.  It's not that I
want
to keep this from you, it's that I
need
to.  At least for now.  Can you please just take me at my word on this?”

Brea dropped her brows menacingly.  “Fine, if not who, then why?  Why is it so important for you to suddenly know all of this?  About phoenixes, and first men and now whether there were ever more than nine Old Gods?  Can't we at least know why you need to know all of this?”

“Because there seems to be a great deal that the Pantheon isn't telling us,” Nathan finally relented.  “And sooner or later, I'm going to have to find out why.”

“But what caused it?” asked Avery.  The moment he asked out of impulse, he regretted doing so.  Mentally kicking himself, he added, “It must be the act of one of my fellow Gods.  But what is its purpose?”

“
My Lord?” asked Hamil, cocking his head slightly.  “Pardon my ignorance, but I feel I need to seek clarity on your reasoning.”  When Avery cast him a dark look, the scribe quickly amended, “How else am I to chronicle your greatness for other mortals to understand if I do not understand myself?”

Avery allowed his tenseness to dissipate, returning his gaze to the rent in the ground before him.  “I am a God, Hamil.  Child of Malik and Charith.  If there is anything that transpires of significance on the mortal plane, should I not be aware of it?  Instead, I was unprepared for the fiery assault from the sky, and I am likewise unclear on what could have caused this kind of...  destruction.  Therefore, the only conclusion I can come up with is that both are the workings of another of the Gods.”

Avery turned a wicked glare at Hamil.  “Or do you have another explanation you would wish to share?”

Hamil immediately thrust up both hands, waving them frantically.  “No, no.  Your wisdom is inescapable.  I simply did not understand.” 

Avery's glare did not waver as he studied the little man for several seconds.  Sensing no hidden motive behind the other man's words though, he finally relented and returned to studying the mystery before him.

It was getting more and more difficult for Avery to keep up the facade of godhood.  At least, it felt more difficult to him.  It seemed the longer he was separated from
One
, the more he found himself wanting to revert to the introverted, fearful personality he had developed while being a heretic.  Absently, he rubbed the area of his wrist where he still wore the heretical brand, the symbol he had adopted as his own when he had declared himself at the tavern in Scollhaven.

When he had
One
, it was second nature to assume the air of someone powerful, in control.  But without it, all he had was himself.  He had no power, and only the lingering effect of his time while wielding the divine sword gave him any position of authority over his companions.  They believed him still to be a God, even after he had been maimed.

Well, Hamil still believed in him after finding him maimed in the woods.  Viola's faith had visibly been shaken when she had discovered his lost limb.

The trio had headed out from their meeting with the stranger who called himself Martin with renewed zest.  If there were a chance to retrieve another sword similar to
One
, Avery believed he might still have the chance to regain his rightful position of power.  He had commanded that they would travel to Levitz with all due haste, if for no other reason than to beat the Godslayer to the second sword.  It was of utmost importance, Avery had insisted, if they were going to gain the means to defeat the Godslayer once and for all.

Yet before they had been able to set out, Viola had cornered Avery and demanded to see his arm and pulled it free from under his other, revealing to her eyes for the first time the severed stump where his right hand had been.

Viola had gasped, and the look of doubt and confusion had been blatantly displayed across her face.  There was no question in Avery's mind that she saw Avery as a mortal in that moment, that her faith in his divinity was gone.

What rescue could have been had was made by Hamil, who came up to support his God.  “The power of the Godslayer is to be able to destroy a God.  No other God in the stories ever walked away from facing him, at all.  It is only by divine grace that our Lord Avery only lost a hand, and not his entire being.”

Viola had silently accepted the response, but walked away without saying anything further.  She had just as quietly mounted her own horse and waited in silence for the other two to lead the way.  Whatever thoughts were moving through her mind, the former barmaid was not yet ready to speak them.  And this frightened Avery more than anything, even more than the thought of once again facing the Godslayer.

As the trio had ridden, the strange storm had risen up around them.  More than once, Avery had thought that perhaps they should stop riding and seek shelter, especially since the horses were spooking and difficult to control with all the sudden sounds and crashes.  He continued to let the beasts run for no other reason than simply not knowing which choice to make.  His indecisiveness cost him dearly, however.

Once the plumes of smoke began tracing through the sky, once fire began raining from the sky, it was impossible to control the horses at all.  If they were not already on an easily traveled road surrounded by woods to either side, he was certain the horses would have bolted off in any other direction than the one they were going.  If they had been moving through any other terrain than the Wildelands, there would have been no hope for controlling the direction of their mounts.  As it was, the narrow road acted to corral the horses, forcing them to run a preset path.

Still, the mad raging pace the horses set for themselves was dangerous enough.  Though the road they had found seemed solid enough, it was not exactly paved nor maintained.  It was a frequently used wilderness trail only, likely used by vagabonds and merchants.  But as it fell outside of any claimed territory, it was only as well repaired as immediate circumstances required. 

But all good fortune had fled in this regard once one of the fiery blasts struck the earth nearby.  Avery had been witness to lightning strikes in his day that had not been as cacophonous as the sound this strike made.  The strike had surely been several miles' distant, yet Avery still felt the impact in the air around him.  A brief thought of how much worse the strike would have been without trees around to act as breakers crossed his mind before he found himself inexplicably flying through the air and crashing into one of those selfsame trees some feet away.

Pride and dignity abandoned, Avery had managed to pull himself up from the fall.  Yet once he had been able to see clearly, it had been Viola's eyes he had encountered first.  Mounted still upon her horse, the harshness of her gaze was inescapable.  If there had been faith remaining before of his godhood, it was quickly dissolving.

As Viola began to turn her horse away, the frustration of his loss took hold of him and he had lashed out with his fist against the very tree that had ended his flight through the air.  The air filled with an audible crack as his fist struck the wood, echoing loudly against the already present thunderous peals in the distance.  As Avery stepped back, he could see the tree being weighed down in slow motion, as the tilted base coupled with the weight of its branches brought the tall pine creaking towards the ground.  With each inch, it began to pick up speed until within a few seconds, the entirety of the tree's weight brought it crashing back into the forest beyond, bouncing and snapping against boughs and thicket as it fell.

It took several minutes for the sounds of falling debris to finally settle, and only then did Avery realize that he had been watching it the entire time.  Quickly, he glanced over at Viola, who had stopped to watch the spectacle, as well.  But by the time Avery had looked up at his lover, her eyes were now upon him.  Certainly, the lack of faith was gone, but in its place the absolute devotion had not returned.  Now there was only confusion.  Yet for Avery, it was better than doubt.

Avery's mount was lost.  Once it had unseated its rider, the beast had fled off into the distance.  Hamil and Viola had lost precious time in trying to give chase by stopping to see if Avery had needed assistance.  Remarkably, though the fall had momentarily stunned him, it had done no serious harm.  And his felling of the pine had demonstrated a likely cause – he still possessed some degree of his godly strength, and it had spared him from what could have been far more serious harm.

Viola had remained silent as Avery had mounted her horse, placing himself in front of her.  There really had been no other option, since Viola was the lighter of the two who remained upon their steeds, and it simply made more practical sense for Avery's weight to be added to the least burdened mount. But there was an emotional chasm between Avery and Viola, and the man feared trying to breach it.  Avery was feeling his claim upon divinity slip away, and Viola represented the manifestation of his feelings in the real world.

After that, they had ridden more carefully, keeping a tight reign upon the horses to avoid any further reckless flights.

Again and again they could hear the sounds of heavenly bodies striking the earth, though none as close as the one that unseated Avery.  It took well over an hour, but eventually the fiery plumes lessened and the crashing thunder of their flight across the skies began to settle.  The harsh winds continued for some time, but eventually by midday, even those had abated.  Avery could smell smoke and dust on the air as they continued, but whatever the threat from the skies had been, it had passed.

That had been three days past.  The trio had continued to ride during the day, resting their animals and themselves at night.  Hamil proved to be a surprising resource in being able to procure sustenance from the land around them, finding fruit and even managing to trap small animals for nourishment.  But for all the comfort the scribe could provide, none of it replaced the absence of love Avery felt from Viola.

Each night after the storm, Viola had lain beside him, but she had only lain.  There was no frolicking, no reaching out to cuddle or arouse.  The only difference between the body which lay stiffly beside the would-be-God and a corpse was the heat that he could feel radiate off of it.  And yet his own fear of rejection prevented him from reaching across the distance between them to even try to initiate any contact himself.  And so the lovers had slept together, yet neither would bridge the gap between them to in any way affirm their status with each other.

It was on the afternoon of the fourth day following the loss of Avery's hand that they came across a great gash in the ground, severing the road like it had cut through a vein of ore.  The smoking line extended some twenty feet across, and aimed off towards the north and south of the road at a diagonal angle.  Only the direction of the trees forced down along the gouged path indicated in which direction the swath had been cut.  Smoke and sulfurous smells emanated from the rent in the earth, making it difficult to breathe without coughing.

Clearly, this had been created by the firestorm that the trio had heard.  Though it certainly was not the source of the discord which had sent Avery's horse into such a panic, it was obviously similar.  After all, more than one fiery object had fallen to earth that day. 

“If I were to speculate, however,” said Hamil, once he was sure that Avery was no longer intent upon his disbelief, “I would surmise – if this truly is the working of a God – that someone might be quite upset that we are moving towards the second sword.  Perhaps this was a means of trying to stop you, my Lord?”

Avery considered this.  It would certainly boost his believability if he could prove that the other Gods were intent upon putting a halt to his exploits.  Yet to be honest with himself, he just could not imagine finding a believable way to extrapolate a connection between the fire shower and his own claims of divinity, much less this swath cut into the ground days away from where they had been when the storm had struck.  Surely, divine wrath against one man would have more precision?

“No,” Avery said at last.  “I do not believe this had anything to do with us.  At least, not directly.  Perhaps there was a battle between members of the Old Gods, or perhaps there was some forsaken right that one or another felt the need to impress their masses about.  But I see no reason to suspect that any of the other Gods have any knowledge of where we go at present.

“
That is one thing I learned from having
One
by my side, after all.  Gods simply don't pay attention to other Gods unless they are confronted directly.  And since we have not done so – yet – our actions are simply beneath their notice.”  Avery gripped Viola's arm where it rested around his waist, attempting to offer some degree of comfort.  Viola's lack of response left him oblivious to whether she accepted the gesture or not.

“
I do believe that its mystery requires some investigation,” offered Hamil.  “After all, if this
is
the result of some divine tantrum, there might be something worth gleaning from the aftermath.”

Avery could think of no way to disagree.  Inwardly, he yearned to continue on their way – the coast was still weeks away, after all, and stopping to investigate curiosities along the way would surely give the Godslayer more time to gain a lead upon them.  And if their enemy reached Levitz before they did, there would be no hope of retrieving a new sword – especially when he had no sword of his own to defend against a renewed attack.

On the other hand, a vague memory tickled the back of his mind, one of the swords falling to Na'Ril in a similar shower of fire and brimstone.  Perhaps it was just his imagination, or some remnant of a dream left in his subconscious by
One
.  But regardless where it came from, it gave him the idea that perhaps something equally powerful – or even
more
powerful – may have fallen to earth this time.  And to ignore that possibility...

“
I agree,” Avery pronounced.  “It is best to find out what the New Order Gods are up to, in case whatever this is about should somehow cross our path.  Best to be prepared.”