“From what I can count, there were only three who agreed.”
“Three too many,” Aurora grumbled. “There were twenty-five priestesses in various stages of training. All should have chosen death over defilement.”
“They might not have had a choice,” I said. “He’s almost twice their size. You can’t blame the victims of a rape.”
“I can blame any priestess who has not attempted to slit his throat, or failing that, to slit her own. Can you imagine the blasphemy of what he’s done? He had the entire village watch as he defiled the priestesses upon the western altar, then had them announce that, by bathing his genitals in their holy blood, he had healed his infertility. It was further proclaimed that he’d been given a divine vision that he was to build a great army to one day stand against those who had stolen the Jagged Heart. It was essential that the village produce as many offspring as quickly as possible. He announced that he was going to sleep with every ogress in the village, taking a different lover every night, so that his blessed seed might produce a new crop of warriors. This pronouncement didn’t go over well, as you may imagine.”
“It sounds like he went insane,” I said.
Aurora nodded. “Tarpok may have been insane, but he was also unquestionably the greatest warrior in the village. The strongest men declared war on him, and it was during this war that his ancestors, and therefore my ancestors, were desecrated. The fighting lasted years, but Tarpok eventually prevailed, and built a monument from the skulls of those who’d opposed him. The remaining men of the village became rather more philosophical about Tarpok sleeping with their spouses. Some of the women resisted at first, but after a few of his early partners became pregnant, most went willingly. Tarpok was the embodiment of male power. The chance to be filled by his semen was a great temptation.”
“So was he
was
cured by sleeping with the priestesses?”
Aurora shook her head. “By sleeping with every woman in the village, he could claim that any child born the following year was a product of his seed. But he didn’t demand chastity on the part of his lovers; most were probably impregnated by their true husbands.”
“I have a hard time thinking that a monster like that gets cheered by the crowds I saw.”
“Ah, but there’s one final, perverse twist. The men who challenged Tarpok were the best hunters in the village. After they died, Tarpok alone accounted for over half of the meat the village fed upon. My people are on the verge of starving, and flattering Tarpok is their best route to being fed.”
“But he’s the reason they’re starving!”
Aurora shrugged. She said something in her native tongue.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” I said.
“It’s a proverb of my people.
Wisdom is the first thing devoured by an empty belly.
”
“I’m afraid your people may be even hungrier now, since Infidel caved in Tarpok’s face.”
“There was a time when this would have concerned me,” said Aurora. “But everyone I knew will be dead soon enough.”
“Because Purity’s going to murder the sun?”
Aurora shook her head. “Because the lifespan of an ogre is but a single beat of a heart when measured against the expanse of forever. Being dead gives one a sense of perspective. What was the point of all the struggle? In the end, death will claim the just and the unjust. For all the harm that Tarpok did to my people, he’s here now, another of the dead in the endless sea of death.” She stared out over the ice floes. “As blood kin, he will be drawn to our family song. I look forward to assisting him with his pain.”
“You’d soothe the pain of a villain who’s done such harm?”
“I said assist, not soothe.”
“Ah.”
“But this will happen in its own time. Now, we have a more pressing matter.” She pointed toward the horizon. “In little more than an hour, Glorious will once again rise over the edge of the sky. Purity will no doubt use this moment to strike. If we’re going to stop her, we must depart at once.”
“I’m very happy to hear you say this,” I said. “I was worried that your newfound stoicism might keep you from taking the threat seriously.”
Aurora whistled to Slor Tonn. The whale did a cartwheel, then plunged into the water nearby. “I care little about the fate of the world. But Purity was responsible for robbing me of the Jagged Heart. Even now, she defiles it with her heathen grasp. I cannot let this be.”
“Purity’s no pushover,” I warned. “She’s got all of Menagerie’s shape-shifting powers, plus ice powers just like you.”
“Actually, I don’t have those powers any more,” said Aurora, sounding apologetic. “My spiritual connection with Hush was severed when I came here.”
“Oh. Then we might be in a rather lopsided fight.”
“She’s sailing in a walrus-skin boat,” said Aurora. “We’ll be riding a flying whale. This fight may be lopsided in an entirely different direction than you think.”
Slor Tonn floated up beside the ice-floe and Aurora lifted me, slinging me over her shoulder. “Hold tight,” she said, as I wrapped my arms around her neck. She shoved another bit of bear gland between my lips. I pushed it between my teeth and cheek and sucked on it to make it last longer. Aurora jumped onto Slor Tonn’s back.
“He doesn’t have his harness any more,” I said. “He’s as naked as we are.”
“Who needs a harness?” she asked, walking toward the center of the whale, right behind his blow hole. She made a clicking noise with her tongue and the whale slapped his tail against the water, then surged skyward. Aurora crouched, keeping her center of gravity low, her arms spread for balance. I tightened my grip around her neck.
We climbed swiftly, as the dead ogres on the ice-floe began to sing their family song to call Aurora back. For a moment it seemed that the higher we climbed, the louder the voices grew, but soon their voices faded, lost to the wind. As Slor Tonn banked in response to Aurora’s clucked and grunted commands, I caught a glimpse of her family on the ice below, now small as bugs.
“Aren’t you afraid you won’t be able to find them again?” I shouted above the rushing wind.
“I can hear my family song no matter where I travel,” said Aurora.
“How about the Jagged Heart? You said you used to be able to feel its tug.”
“I lost that connection, I fear,” said Aurora.
“So how will we find Purity?”
“I don’t think we can, unless we get exceedingly lucky. She’s on a tiny boat on an infinite ocean. We’ll never find where she is now, but we don’t need to; we know where she’s going. Fortunately, Slor Tonn can carry us to Glorious before he ever rises above the horizon.”
“We’re just going to fly to the sun?”
“Why not?”
“And what will we do when we reach it?”
“Talk to Glorious,” said Aurora. “Ask him not to rise until we’ve eliminated the threat.”
“Oh.” I found the directness of her plan a little unsettling. “Do you really think it will be that easy?”
“I’m almost positive it won’t be. But we should try a direct approach and deal with complications only if they arise.”
And on we flew. Below us, the ocean spread out like a jeweler’s display case, with glistening gems spilled against a backdrop of black satin. Above us was endless darkness, save a floating blue-green ball no larger than a grapefruit.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing with my stump.
“Our old world,” she said. “The material world. We lived there.”
“It’s so small,” I said.
“It’s far away,” she said. “Maybe a thousand miles.”
“Wow,” I said, surprised I could see anything at that great a distance.
Of course, I’d seen this orb before, when falling back from the realm of the dead where Greatshadow dwelled.
“I’ve now been in three different realms of the dead,” I said.
“What of it?”
“Zetetic, the Deceiver, said that there was no objective reality. He said we were all the authors of our own worlds, and our unconscious collaboration creates what looks like solid reality, but is, in fact, nothing but a malleable fiction. What if the realms of the dead are like this? We spend all our lives imagining what the afterlife will be like, and then, when we die, that’s what we get. Doesn’t that mean we’d have the power to change things if we wanted to?”
“If we could change things to what we want, I wouldn’t have half of my flesh burned away,” said Aurora. “I’m guessing you’d still have your legs and your hand.”
“But that’s not the way I imagined my afterlife. I always assumed that, when I died, I’d just fade away. That’s almost what happened, until my soul got sucked into the bone-handled knife.”
“Look!” Aurora said, pointing into the distance. I could see nothing but ice floes and black ocean where she pointed. “A boat!”
She used her clucking, snorting commands to steer Slor Tonn back down toward the ice. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see what she’d seen. At last, I spotted it: a single walrus-skin boat, empty of passengers. A few oars lay in the bottom. I saw a rip in the bow, where Infidel had dug in with her knife.
“This was the boat Tarpok and the priestesses were in before Sorrow unleashed her plague of flies,” I said.
Water sprayed over us as Slor Tonn came to rest in the dark water. Aurora leapt from the whale’s back into the center of the boat. She grabbed an oar and deftly maneuvered the vessel toward the nearest bit of pack ice. Then she hopped out and dragged the boat onto the ice.
“This boat is a great treasure!” she exclaimed. “Not all of my ancestors retain the bodily integrity needed to swim. This will allow us to extend our hunting range. We should turn back and take it to my family.”
“What does a boat matter if the world is on the verge of ending?”
Aurora looked up. “If the world ends, it will become even more crowded here. My family will require resources to remain comfortable.”
I had to admire her pragmatism. “If this boat is here, Purity must be near.”
“Perhaps. The currents that flow from the material world into the afterlife are chaotic. She could be miles away.”
“Then let’s stick with the plan,” I said. “Let’s find Glorious first.”
“You weren’t this impatient when you were alive,” Aurora grumbled. But I’d won the argument. She left the boat on the ice floe, as she hopped once more onto Slor Tonn, and steered him toward the horizon.
“Hold tight,” she said. “We won’t stop again until we’re within shouting distance of the sun.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NOTHING NEW UNDER THE SUN
“T
HERE’S ONE THING
I don’t understand,” I said to Aurora as Slor Tonn sailed through the dark sky.
“Only
one
thing?” she asked, in mock astonishment.
“One thing immediately pertinent,” I corrected. “When we were hunting Greatshadow, Father Ver sounded pretty confident that killing the dragon would have no effect upon the continued existence of fire. He said that the primal dragons were just interlopers who had merged their spirits with existing elemental forces. Killing the dragon would free the element, not destroy it. For instance, the church killed Verdant a long time ago, and trees continue to do okay.”
“So you’re wondering if this mission is even necessary?” Aurora asked.
“I mean, suppose Purity does kill Glorious. I’m completely at a loss to figure out if she’s here to hunt his body or his spirit, but does it matter? Isn’t the sun still going to be around? I hate to sound callous, but would our lives be worse in any way if she succeeds?”
Aurora sighed.
“You sound disgusted by my question.”
“Not disgusted,” she said. “Just a little... weary. The Church of the Book has gone out of its way to hide the true history of our world. Most of the so-called ‘civilized’ men I’ve spoken to have been brainwashed by the church’s dogma, to the point that they insist their self-evident falsehoods are the only truth. For those of us privy to the actual reality, conversations about the world’s origins with the church’s faithful are a little tiresome.”
“I’d hardly identify myself as one of the faithful.”
“But you were raised by the church,” she said. “You judge everything you’re told by how well it meshes with the myths of your childhood.”
“I also judge the myths of my childhood by how well they mesh with reality. For instance, the Church of the Book teaches that the world is precisely one thousand and eighty-two years old, that it sprang into existence fully formed the day the Divine Author finished writing the One True Book. But I earned my living exploring ruins that my grandfather calculated to be at least three thousand years old. I’ve gotten my own hands dirty on the roots and rocks of the Vanished Kingdom, and grandfather’s math makes much more sense than the church’s attempt to explain away the evidence.”
“They bother to explain away the evidence?” she asked. “Most believers I speak to aren’t even aware there is evidence.”
“The monks said that the world looks older than a thousand years because that’s the way the Divine Author wanted it to look. A creator can give his creation attributes of a past, even if it was created only moments before.”