An Unexpected Deity (Book 7) (32 page)

Kestrel released his power.   He opened his reservoir of energy, and let it flow outward, into Tullamore, giving it freely to the god to be used in the pursuit of the vision of restoration and renewal.  He felt the god take it, and he felt the god’s gratitude, as his energy and Tullamore’s were brought together, not mixing, but co-locating in the same metaphysical space.  He felt and observed what the god was doing.

The two powers were united, and formed a perfect sphere, one that had distinct but indistinguishable stripes of the energies.  As Kestrel observed, the sphere somehow seemed to turn inside-out, so that all the world was within it, though it still remained the same.

Then Kestrel observed the water skin rising and slipping into the interior of the sphere, in the space that was not within the world that was within the sphere.  The paradox of the juxtaposition seemed to infuse the water skin with powers that were even more unusual than its eternal abundance.

A Skye took the water skin and lodged it firmly between two rocks, the spout poised to release its flow of water downward into the empty stream channel that disappeared over the falls.  It reminded Kestrel of the water skin he had used at the lake in the mountains of the Inner Seas, a source of healing and life.

“Now Kestrel, I need even more – release every bit of power that you can.  Force the energy out, join me in forcing the power into the water skin,” Tullamore urged, as the Skye that was handling the water skin began working the plug in the spout to release the liquid within.

Kestrel focused.  He looked within himself and pulled the power out.  He yearned for it to release faster, with greater volume, in a way that would feed more and more into the water skin, to do whatever Tullamore intended.  His energy reacted.  He could tell it was a strain, and that there was no way he could deliver anymore, but still he willed it to happen, and it did.

He was buckling from the release of energy, but he could sense that Tullamore was consuming it all, receiving the energy and then compounding it with his own energy, before building it up into a vast reservoir of energy poised around the water skin.

The Skye finally released the plug in the spout.  As the first drop of water began to fall out, Tullamore drove all the gathered power into the skin in a single blast of energy.  The water skin that was in the physically paradoxical state of being both within and outside of the world suddenly began to expel a torrent of water.  Gushing waves of water, more than the skin could possibly hold or release, flew out of the spout in a vast stream that seemed to be the equivalent of the capacity of the entire river bed they stood next to.  The water reached the edge of the precipice, and it thundered over it.  The waterfall that had once been was suddenly back in existence, and the stones that had been dry for so long suddenly began to feel the moisture of a misty cloud once again.

“A job well done,” Tullamore said.  He released his contact with Kestrel, and without the benefit of the contact, Kestrel collapsed to the ground.  The deified elfling felt completely exhausted and drained.  Tullamore had driven him to release more energy than he had thought possible, had provided a more alluring vision than Kestrel had been able to resist.  Now, Kestrel felt so emptied of power he wondered if he would ever be able to generate his energy again.

“You gave everything possible,” Tullamore seemed to read Kestrel’s thoughts as he spoke.  “And the result is well worth it.  This flow of water is not only strong now, but it will grow even greater, so that the lake will fill completely in just a matter of days – all from the use of our powers.

“I can give you a way to strengthen your own powers now, so that you will be able to do great things like this, yet not feel as drained as you feel,” Tullamore continued.   The god gestured in the air, and a tiny golden cube appeared.in the air between them.

“Find your power, all that is left, even the very center that it springs from, and feed it all into this cube,” Tullamore directed.  “This cube will keep it, protect it, and strengthen it, so that your power never collapses or diminishes.  It is a perfect way to increase your strength, and all of your power will be here, in this one safe place.  You will be more godlike forever if you possess this cube.”

Kestrel looked at the glittering cube.  He was still weary from the extraordinary creation of the new fount of water, but he felt the spark within him react positively to the notion of a protected, permanent home.

“How do I do it?” he asked.

“Simply press the cube against your forehead, and send everything into it, all the power you feel,” Tullamore answered.  “It will feel and find and connect with your power, and then finish the process for you.”

The glittering object floated through the air towards Kestrel.  He reached up and grabbed it.  He took a deep breath and steeled himself for the task, then firmly pressed the gold against his forehead.

For the first two seconds, he simply felt the cool chill of the heavy metal.  He felt the small reservoir of energy he still possessed, and he directed a trickle of that power outward, into the cube.  The moment the power found the cube, the cube changed from passive to dynamic.  The energy Kestrel fed it activated it to begin to pull the energy into itself, and it seemed to send tentacles of its hunger upstream to the source of Kestrel’s divine energy.  It felt to Kestrel as though there were a ravenous plant that had suddenly established roots within his soul, as the tentacles multiplied and grew and pursued his energy, pulling away everything they could find within him.  He screamed once in pain and fear, then fell silent as the cube controlled and overwhelmed him.

Kestrel felt the center of his energy being pulled away.  It tumbled roughly through his soul, dislodging and upheaving his core as it went, leaving him with a bewildering mass of revived emotions, relived memories, and forgotten experiences.  He could not tell the difference between what was happening and what he was remembering – what he lived and what he relived seemed to be the same as his soul was torn asunder by the destructive removal of the energy that was buried within him.

And then the trauma ended.  He felt the mass of power flow out of him and into the cube.

Kestrel felt momentary comfort and relief, before a sudden new eruption of chaos occurred.  “I shall go and control it!” the vaporous remnant of the Kovell shrieked.  The unwelcome terror within him suddenly began to move as well.  He felt it unwrap its hold from around his soul, and then it plummeted recklessly and painfully through him as it heedlessly tore its way into the cube, suddenly the undisputed possessor of his energy.

Kestrel lay, paralyzed and stunned, horrified and stricken by all that had happened.  The cube lifted away from him, and he found that he was actually laying on his back on the ground.  He saw the cube spinning and glittering directly above his face, and he thought it looked malicious now, a new home and a new weapon for the Kovell to use to begin to pursue death and destruction and control once more.

And then he heard Tullamore gently laugh.

“This is good,” the god said.  He reached out and grabbed the cube as it floated in the air, then he examined it closely, as Kestrel had an impression that the Kovell was screaming in confusion and frustration.

“This is not really a container for power,” Tullamore said to Kestrel.  “It’s really a prison cell, a place that is an absolute trap.  Anything that enters it can never escape.

“I knew that the Kovell within you would never be dislodged unless it wanted to be; it had seized upon your heart and held you as a hostage, so I needed to trick it into leaving you voluntarily,” the god explained.  “When it saw your energy leave, and it thought it could seize control of the power, it deserted you, expecting to become the commander of your energy.

“Instead, as you see, it is forever removed from the world now, and we all are safer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kestrel asked in astonishment.

“How could I tell you without telling the Kovell?” Tullamore asked.  “I had to keep this all a secret from you in order to keep the monster in the dark.

“And now, you are free of the Kovell.  You have lost your godlike powers, but the abilities that were your own are still yours, and we can plan to move on to find a way to take you back to your own home, after you have a day to rest,” the god told Kestrel.

Kestrel took a deep breath, and considered the outcome of the god’s trickery.  It was probably the best result he could ask for; he was rid of the Kovell, and the cost had only been the divine power that he was going to lose in any event when he left the land of the Skyes.

“I’ll be able to go home now?” he asked.  He suddenly felt very tired.

“As soon as you’re ready, we’ll try to find a way to send you back to your own land,” Tullamore agreed.

“What do you mean, ‘try to find’?” Kestrel asked, as he yawned.  “We’ll just go to the portal.”

“There are no portals left that go directly to your world,” Tullamore answered in a sad voice.  “You’ve closed off both of those.  “We’ll have to go to the one remaining portal that may take you to another world that will then have its own portal to your world.”

That was the last that Kestrel heard, before he fell asleep.

Chapter 20

Kestrel awoke to find that he was sleeping on a bed that rose and fell, giving a slight vibration that spread evenly across his body.  He was looking up at the sparkling night sky.

“Is it an earthquake?” he asked as he sat up.

It was not an earthquake he saw.  It was a moving bed of sorts.  He was lying on the backs of several Skyes who were walking slowly, pressed together to make a continuous surface for him to sleep on.  They were walking along a trail that bordered a wide body of water, and he heard the gentle sound of small waves lapping up against the shoreline next to them.

“There is no earthquake,” Tullamore responded.  He was walking ahead of Kestrel’s carriage.  “We simply wanted to allow you to reach your next destination more quickly, so we have carried you this far along the way.  We’re beside the lake that you and I created with our earthen berm,” he explained.  “My people are very excited to see a body of water; it gives them hope of better days ahead.”

The Skyes were chittering among themselves, and Kestrel realized that he could no longer understand their language.  It demonstrated his loss of divine powers, he reflected sadly.

“I can walk on my own now,” he said, as he swung his legs around and dropped his feet over the edge of the walking Skyes, then stumbled onto the ground and found his pace.

“What did you mean before about some problem with the portals?” he asked Tullamore, remembering the disturbing last conversation before he had passed out.  “What’s the problem that you anticipate?”

“Our world has five portals,” Tullamore said.  “Two led directly to your world, and two lead in the opposite direction among the lands, far off into other realms.  One portal leads somewhere in-between.  With the two portals to your world blocked, we will have to send you through the portal that goes to other worlds, through which you may find another portal that does lead to your world.”

“How,” Kestrel paused and considered the bleak reality that Tullamore offered, “How will I know where the other portals are in the next world?  Wouldn’t it be easier to go dig the old portals open?”  The whole group stopped walking as Kestrel did so, and they stood upon a sandy spot that had been newly turned into a beach along the shore of the lake.  Several of the Skyes took advantage of the stop to walk quickly down to the water; they put their legs into the water and clattered loudly to one another, then started splashing and cavorting.  Without knowing exactly why, Kestrel felt his heart gladdened by the sight of the happy creatures.

“You could spend your whole lifetime digging the stones of the mountains and not clear the portal passage where you fought the Kovell,” Tullamore answered.  “And I do not know the condition of the other portal that you blocked in your own world; would it be any easier?” the god asked.

“No,” Kestrel reflected, remembering the mountainside that had collapsed during the conflict at the cave, and the stream of water that had pooled up within the cave.  “It would not be any easier.”

“Then I can only offer you the following choices: stay here in this land with my people and I, or try the third portal,” Tullamore told him.  “We are only a few hours away from the portal location.  You can decide now, and we will continue to go there, or you can wait and decide later – the portal will always be there.  In the meantime we can go about our duty of preparing the world to come back to life.”

It was no difficult choice for Kestrel.  He understood that the Skyes were a good-hearted race of beings, but they were so alien in nature from himself that there was no reason to stay.  And there were numerous reasons to return, or attempt to return.  There was Oaktown, and Putienne, and Merea, his daughter, and now he found that his promise to Lark to visit and help her father in Uniontown weighed on his mind as an obligation he wished to keep.

“Let’s move on to the portal,” Kestrel decided.  “What do you know about the world on the other side?”

He started walking again, as did Tullamore, and the mob of Skyes came rushing up from the lakeshore, anxious to keep up with their god as he moved through their world.

“I know that there is a god in that world, and I know that they too faced a battle against the Viathins,” the god answered.  “But most of the Viathins went elsewhere after they consumed that world; few of them came directly here.”

Kestrel pondered the report as they moved along.  How many worlds might he have to pass through to find a way back to his own land, he wondered.  Was he doomed to become a wanderer among lands, forever searching, without a map to offer guidance?

By mid-afternoon they reached the entrance to the portal, another cave entrance.

At first, Kestrel didn’t realize how close they were.

“How much further is it?” he asked when they stopped at a large, flat open space along the trail.  They had long before risen above and circled away from the shores of the lake, so that there was no longer any hint of the plentiful water that was flowing back into the world.

“We’re here,” Tullamore answered.

“I don’t see anything,” Kestrel said, standing up straight and looking around in all directions.  “Where is it?”

Tullamore raised one of his many legs and pointed upward.  Kestrel followed the direction and looked up at the side of a mountain that the trail circled around.  It was the tallest peak that he had seen anywhere in the land.

“We have to climb this monster?” he asked.

“Not all of us; only you will go up there,” Tullamore answered.

“How will I find the portal?” Kestrel asked.  “Is there a trail that leads to it?”

“No, there is no trail.  This mountain is a dormant volcano.  It is hollow on the inside.  There is a lake of very hot water inside the emptiness, and there is an island in the lake.  The portal is on the island.  It is the space at the top of the hill on the island.  When you stand at the correct spot, you see a different land, and you step into that land.  That is the portal,” the god told Kestrel.

“And to make this part of the journey easy for you, I will lift you over the mountain and place you on the island,” Tullamore told Kestrel.  “And I will wish you all the luck in the world in your efforts to reach your home.  You deserve success; you have suffered many wounds in our land, but your heart has always been good, and should be rewarded.  I hope that you can quickly reunite with the female of your kind who you love.”

“I will be glad to see Wren again,” Kestrel agreed, thinking that the last comment of the god went slightly astray from the weighty matters he had previously mentioned.

“No not the warrior, the other female, the one who is less like you, the one you are destined to give your heart to.  Good luck in your union with her,” Tullamore said.  “Now, farewell.”

Kestrel started to reply, to protest Tullamore’s misreading, then yelped in surprise, as his feet started to rise from the ground.  The crowd of Skyes took their cue from the words of their god, and began to chatter vocally, a presumptive parting commentary, as Kestrel flew upwards, and rapidly saw the Skyes below dwindle into small dark circles on the landscape.

He momentarily reveled in the feeling of flying, then looked up and saw that he was approaching the top of the mountain.  There was a rim he saw, a relatively flat level of mountaintop, higher than any of the surrounding mountains.  When he reached it, he saw that there was a vast emptiness on the other side.  The rim was the highpoint of a relatively narrow and steep collar of stone.  Inside the collar the interior of the mountain dropped deeply to a turquoise blue lake, in the center of which was the island Tullamore had promised.

Warm as the world of the Skyes was overall, inside the crater the temperature was even higher.  The lake that lay inside was one of the few standing bodies of water Kestrel had seen in the land except for the newly created reservoir.  It was the lake that contributed to the heat inside the crater, Kestrel realized, as Tullamore’s powers lowered him down towards the island.  The water of the lake was very warm, eddying and flowing with warmth.

When Kestrel’s feet touched the ground of the island, he was already sweating profusely in the humid heat.  He looked up at the rocky hillside before him.  It was all that he needed to cross in order to reach the portal that would carry him away from the land of the Skyes.

“Thank you, Tullamore,” he prayed out loud.  “Thank you for bringing me here, and thank you for cleansing the Kovell from my soul.  Good luck to you and your people in restoring your land to prosperity.”

We will always remember your help
, Tullamore’s voice replied in his soul. 
Good luck in your search.

Why do you think I love Lark?
Kestrel asked, focused once again on the god’s assertion that he loved the young duchess of Uniontown.

Your soul and hers are compatible.  You both are passionate for justice and fair play.  You both see one another as attractive.  And yet there are differences that will always keep you dynamic and fresh in your relationship.  I see a future for you and her, once you reach your home
, the god told him
.  Travel safely, and name a child in memory of my land!

Kestrel felt the god’s smile as he conveyed the last request, and then there was silence.  He stood still, evaluating the reasons the god had listed, wondering if they were true, wondering if simple compatibility was enough to lead to inevitable love with a girl he hardly knew.  Tullamore had named many common things that he claimed Kestrel and Lark shared, and Kestrel considered them valid for himself, and seemingly true about the young noblewoman as well.

It was intriguing, and Kestrel wondered if some part of him had recognized the similarities between the two of them as well.  Although Lark had been unpleasant at times, Kestrel had ultimately chosen to accept her expressions of interest as sincere, and he had agreed to her pleas that he travel to Uniontown to help her father.

She was attractive, he admitted, and then he smiled at the notion that she might consider him to be attractive as well.  She hadn’t seemed to be amenable to his elven features at first, he remembered.

There was a sudden noise above, and a stone became dislodged on the hillside, then rolled down the steep slope, carrying a miniscule landslide of pebbles and dust with it as it reached the edge of the water and came to a stop.  Kestrel realized that he was woolgathering when he needed to be climbing up the hillside, and his thoughts were jarred away from Lark.

With his nimble elven feet and hands, Kestrel worked his way upward, finding toe holds and hand holds among the stones and sparse plants.  There were no game trails, only the natural contours of the hill, but Kestrel climbed with determination, and within minutes reached the gentler slopes of the upper portion of the hill.

The hilltop was unremarkable, except for a small circle of stones that formed a tiny crown.  Kestrel walked up to the edge of the circle, confident that it had to comprise the portal.  He checked his belongings – his knife and his staff and his bow with a nearly empty quiver were all still remarkably intact across the long journey he had pursued.  His pack was nearly empty; the light weight reminded him of how little he had eaten in recent days, and he realized that his clothes felt loose upon his frame.

He was ready to go.  The next step he took would put him into the portal, and he would cross into the next world.  He would be likely to confront a new race, have to rely on a different deity, be unable to speak a different language.  But it was hopefully a step towards home, and well worth all the uncertainty.

He raised a foot and stepped over the short stone ring, into the center of the circle.  And he felt profound disappointment.  Something was wrong!  The view in front of him was exactly the same – he was looking across the top of the island hill, seeing the waves of steamy heat rising from the lake to make the distant wall of the crater seem to waver.  Tullamore had made a mistake!  Or had the god tricked him?  No, he told himself, Tullamore had been honest and faithful; there was no intentional deception, but there was a problem.

He felt his eyes unexpectedly tear up with frustration.  Kestrel turned slightly as he started to step out of the ring, and as he did, he saw a green panorama out of the corner of his eye.  He turned, and saw that a completely different world was visible behind him.  The portal simply pointed in the opposite direction from his entry!

Kestrel laughed at his own mistaken assumption, and his hasty jump to conclusions.

He turned, and to his relief he saw the mouth of a cave, from whose interior he looked out upon a new world.  It was a world with trees, and for that alone he was thankful.  He felt his elven blood react with relief to the sight of tree trunks, leaves, and branches.  He felt a powerful urge to jump out of the portal, to jump out of the cave entrance, and to jump into a tree, to climb to the highest branch, then stick his head through the leaves at the top to feel the sun and the breeze that would feel like home in the Eastern Forest, at least for a moment.

Kestrel looked to the side on each side, and still he saw the dry lands of the Skyes.  Someday, he told himself, Tullamore’s dream would be complete, and there would be enough water in the land to cause rivers to flow, seas to send breaking waves upon their shores, while rains would fall from cloudy skies.  But for Kestrel that experience would not be a dream – it would become his reality back in his own land, much sooner, he was sure.  He stepped forward, and smelled and felt an atmosphere that was cooler, and full of the fragrance of living things.  He turned and looked backwards, but all he saw was the black interior of a cavern behind him.  From that angle, in that world, the portal was invisible.