Duty Calls: The Reluctant War God Book 1 (17 page)

I looked at the cottage next to the brook one last time, then at the fresh mound of earth where she lay. Angelina was gone from my
now.
Would she have lived if I hadn’t tried to save her? No, because I would have never stopped Jegu. No matter how I juggled events and possibilities in my mind, Angelina always seemed to die. The
what if’s
were a trap of despair.

Her life could not be cut short, it was as long as it was, as long as it could have been because it defined itself. There was no greater purpose, there was only an ending of her being. My tears and curses were meaningless, and yet still I cried and shouted in frustration at fate. This is the price I paid for being what my family could never be. They could never feel the depth of emotion, good or bad, that I had experienced in my time living as a mortal.

Loss was now as painful for me as it was for any mortal man, but I was long lived, and I knew that it would pass as all pain eventually ended to be replaced by the fresh pain of new loss. But this moment was for Angelina, and what might have been. I allowed myself the luxury of wallowing in my despair for a good long time before I left to do what needed to be done next.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

There were untold creatures of fae to be encountered in the spaces between realities, but there was one path I could always count on traveling alone. The road to the Golden Realm may only be traveled by my family, as far as we know. The Realm was the birthplace of the gods, or at least what eventually became our family of divine miscreants. The Realm has also always been populated by angelic creatures who act as the servants of the gods, but they do not possess the gift of traveling. So, as always, it was a lonely trek home.

After passing through the Guardians of Eternity, the giant silent beasts which protected the gateway to the Realm itself, Blackflame’s hooves finally trod the golden cobblestones leading to the Citadel, the house of my father, Pandron the Creator. In all my long life the guardians had not moved. I had no doubt as to their consciousness and latent power. The enormous wings remained folded patiently. Their fangs, each as long as a man, sharp as a pike, rested motionless in a frozen snarl. I wondered what the guardians would have done had Jegu eaten the rest of creation and made it to the gateway of my childhood home.

Even as mortals know nothing of the moment of their birth, but suddenly become self aware of a personal narrative—their existence, at some hazy, random point in their toddler years, so too I did not remember my origins. I was never a child and although I must have had a beginning I cannot fathom it. My memories go back to a earlier time when I simply was.

I lived here for a time and then I went forth into the myriad realities of the world at the bidding of my father and fulfilled my purpose. I inspired one tribe to fight the other. I became the patron of some city states and the destroyer of others. Always I returned to sit at the hand of my father, until another epiphany of self-awareness ended my time of obedience.

The Ream radiated tranquility. Each tree, each flower, each blade of grass existed as a perfect model of creation. The sky was always deep azure with golden sunlight streaming down through shining white clouds. The green blush of spring was on everything, also as always. There were no seasons in the Realm. For long eons of time I truly thought all this meant beauty.

But eventually, as if I had been walking in darkness and the new dawn finally revealed the truth, I no longer saw beauty. I saw a dull, lifeless imitation of life. That day the nectar of the gods became as tepid water. The fruit lost its sweetness. I looked in a mirror at my own reflection and finally saw the truth. I never recovered.

Perhaps I did have a childhood after all.

As soon as we passed in the Realm, I found myself wearing a red and black tunic and riding trousers and a heavy belt with ornate buckles. The Bright Blade lay in a dark scabbard at my side. It was dingy, tainted, but it felt right. After all, I was tainted as well. We had found our common connection and I could live with it at last.

I was met at the door by two of the fair folk that serve our kind. Angels? Valet parking attendants? It depends upon your perspective. I gave them the reins to Blackflame. He pranced like a yearling pony as he was led away to the sweet grasses and honey grain.

I opened the gold doorway and strode into my father’s mansion

Its true name was the Citadel of the Gods, but I liked to call my father’s mansion “Graceland.” A name I’d picked up in my travels. Basically, it was gaudy and overblown, almost to the point of being sickening. The wallpaper in the hallway was an animated forest scene with satyrs chasing after teen-aged nymphs in diaphanous gowns. I had really enjoyed this room in my less inhibited days.

The vaulted ceiling displayed moving galaxies and planets and the occasional shooting star. The floor was polished marble covered here and there by the shaggy hide of some great monster or the other that father had created and then killed for sport.

I found him being attended in his gaudy throne room by ten well-endowed fair folk of various gender and anatomical configuration—some quite creative. It was good to be the king.

I stood before him. “Well, here I am.”

He smiled. “Welcome, my son. I knew that you’d come to our aid There will be a grand feast, we will celebrate your victory.”

“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for them.”

His smile faded. “Very well, whatever your motivations. I am as proud of your actions as I am ashamed of your brother’ treachery. It nearly cost him his life. Jegu might have been able to consume him. As it is, his wounds are grievous, but he will heal in time with the aid of ambrosia and rest.”

“I hope he’s learned not to listen to the whispers from the depths of chaos. The abyss is full of nastiness that he isn’t capable of controlling for all his ego,” I said.

“Even I do not dare stir the great cauldron of creation, Kaltron. The universe exists in perfect balance that may be tipped if we are careless. The elemental balance of forces must be maintained.” As Pandron spoke his gaze drifted off as if he were seeing events unfold which were lost in the mists of time. He went silent for a moment then shook his head.

“Enough of this talk. Better to avoid giving notice lest we lend power to darkness. That whelp Yond will be stripped of his powers. I’ve decided that as a reward, I shall pass on those powers onto you. Your mother will not be pleased. She coddles the dolt. I was somewhat redundant to allow his ascension in the first place. It should be much simpler this way. In retrospect, investing you with his gifts would have solved so many issues in the past. Yond always seemed too envious of you. I should have never sired him.”

I laughed. “Well, you know Mom. Maybe you didn’t.”

Pandron’s face darkened. “I will ignore that blasphemous remark, because I refuse to let you sully this moment of triumph for the gods.”

I shrugged. “Sorry, no offense. But let Yond keep his light show and sound effects. I don’t want them and it would only make him more bitter. There is a small chance he’ll actually learn some humility from this episode if you don’t rub his nose in it too much. You aren’t much on forgiveness, by the way. You created Yond in more than one way. I’ll just go back to my own life and let him heal.”

My father nodded. “You’re becoming wise, my son. Although wallowing in filth with the mortals is detestable to me. It does seem you’ve gained some insight. But, Kaltron, you must tell me how you managed to kill Jegu. I must know.”

I smiled. “Why father, Jegu isn’t dead. He’s just…sleeping, let’s say.”

“What do you mean?”

“For all your insistence that I wield the sword, it really wasn’t my godly powers that rendered Jegu mute. In fact, I almost expanded his power as Yond did. The only way that I could counter Jegu’s power was to channel my humanity. That which you have been trying so hard to get me to renounce is what saved your butt. But even then, Jegu is not destroyed. His heart still beats, but slowly.”

I reached into my tunic and brought out the small rock. Deep within a ruby red light pulsed softly.

“Destroy that obscenity.”

“I can’t.”

Then Pandron reared back to blast the stone in my hand.

“Beware, father. If you strike out it you will be instantly consume you, too, just as Yond you will simply feed him and you’ll release Jegu back into our reality.”

He froze.

“Good. Glad that I have your attention.”

I scratched my cheek and pondered my words for a moment before I continued. This was a rare moment. My father was actually in a position where he had to listen to me.

“I’m not sure how the universe operates, and I don’t think you do either. Even though you spout a lot of bullshit I don’t believe you really have any idea. But, I do know that somewhere, somehow there is a balance and you’ve said as much although I see little balance in your method of rule. There is a debt to be paid for everything. Even the Gods aren’t immune.”

I held up the stone. “This is our accounting. The interest on the collective injustice of the gods. As you abused your power, so it grew. Finally, it became a god itself.”

I could see the wheels turning from the look in the old man’s eyes. There was an eternity of atrocities crying out for recompense and he knew it.

I looked at the rock and the faint red glow that slowly flashed. “This will never go away. It is as eternal as you are.”

Pandron sputtered. “But...but...that’s horrible.”

“It’s not all bad. You have a chance to work off the bill before the next day of reckoning. You have the rest of eternity to turn this black, negative thing into something neutral…or dare I say positive? This could potentially be a reservoir of divine power which could support and strengthen us against any enemy.”

“How?”

“Just do the right thing—a lot. I mean start doing it all the time, or eventually it’ll make you pay for doing all the wrong things.”

Pandron looked stricken. For once in his existence he was being held accountable. He was like a child being forced to eat his vegetables or get a spanking. I tried not to grin. It was priceless.

“I’ll make sure it stays in a safe place, but of course if it becomes too powerful no force in this universe can contain it.”

Pantron seemed confused. “What can we do? What acts can we perform that won’t make things worse?”

“I don’t know, and I really don’t care. For myself, I intend to write a lot of music, and drink a lot of beer. How you spend eternity is up to you.”

I left him with that.

Suffice to say that the feast in my honor was canceled. There were no tearful goodbyes. I just mounted Blackflame, got out of there, and tried to not let the door hit me in the ass on the way out.

I figured the lie would keep him in check for a while, or at least off my case.

Jegu was just some inter-dimensional bad ass that my brother had conjured from chaos to bring down dad. Yond was too stupid to realize that the force of chaos by its very nature was capable of destroying anything, even the gods. But, not this time. Jegu’s power was gone and he was destroyed, or perhaps banished back to wherever he came from. The meteorite was just a talisman, powerless and inert now except for the enchantment I had put on it to make it glow a bit.

I love special effects.

I knew Yond wouldn’t have shared the full details of his treachery with father so the lie was a pretty safe one. They would have difficulty separating the fact from my fiction.

Twinge of guilt? No, it was about time they were lied to. They’ve been lying about themselves to the mortals since creation. Maybe his deception would make them keep their intrigues up in heaven rather than playing them out with human pawns.

With Pandron constrained for the moment, I didn’t worry much about my other siblings. For the most part they were harmless anyway. Nanaya, for example. Although she was trouble incarnate, she rarely tempted those who wouldn’t have gotten into trouble anyway. The heart of man was fragile and sometimes I think they wouldn’t be happy without breaking it a few times. There were also others, lesser troublemakers, but with dad knowing the stakes he would ultimately keep them all in line.

I started the long ride back. I wasn’t sure where I was going. I supposed I’d find a little inn somewhere and play my lyre, or maybe my guitar in a honky-tonk or blues club. I had a love song for Angelina that I never got to play—but I wasn’t sure if I’d be capable of singing it aloud for a while.

I saw movement above—a black raven swooping toward me. It landed on my saddle horn. In its beak it held a scrap of folded paper.

I took the paper and opened it, revealing a single sentence. “Beware, the price of vanity is death.”

Warning or threat?

The raven tilted his head and stared at me expectantly.

“Bring it on. I’ve got nothing else left to lose.”

The raven ruffled its feathers as if to shrug, and flew away.

ALSO BY BILL D. ALLEN

Find these great titles on Amazon.com

THE OUTYONDER SERIES

Book 1: Pirates of the Outrigger Rift (with Gary Jonas)