Temple of the Traveler: Book 02 - Dreams of the Fallen (2 page)

Nothing on the plateau moved. Tashi could no longer hear the wind, but clouds streaked by above him. The City of the Gods was now dimly lit from all angles, with no sun to be seen. He felt suspended in a single moment. A portal rippled into existence at the top of the stairs, covered by a hazy veil. Tashi caught a glimpse of an endless hallway lined with marble and the silvery-white spirit-metal sesterina. This was one of the famous Doors to Eternity, where magic leaked into the world of men.

Tashi presented himself boldly, placing his right foot on the bottom stair. He had the symbol of the sheriff sect, three crossed swords, tattooed prominently on his olive-skinned forehead. His black hair was close-cropped and hid no part of the mark. Nor did it hide the scar over his right temple from the wound that would’ve killed him if Jotham the priest hadn’t healed him. Due to years of martial-arts therapy, the injury hadn’t impaired Tashi’s fighting ability, but his memory was incomplete.

A white, porcelain mask pushed through the veil. Blue flames were visible through the gaping mouth and eyeholes of the mask—this was the fire god Intaglios, current head of the pantheon. The voice of the god was formal and without emotion, as if he were an actor reciting from a script. Every aspect of this encounter resembled a stage production. “
You have climbed the Stairs of Supplication and reached the center. What boon do you desire?

“The question which must be answered,” he replied.

The mask nodded. “
Once per lifetime per village the question is allowed. This is a dangerous weapon. Only you can have this answer; you may not share it with another mortal soul nor communicate it through writing. With these conditions, do you still desire to ask this for your boon?

“I do.”


Who shall answer your question?

Here Tashi faltered. He wanted to ask about the Traveler, the only god who didn’t have his own kingdom and didn’t feed off the life energies of his people. Forty-nine years ago, the Traveler stopped speaking. He couldn’t, or wouldn’t, reply.

The sheriff wasn’t sure he could trust any of the other gods. The only Dawn creature who’d been helpful was the disguised one who’d sent him on this quest, the one who’d given him his second fatal wound. A dwarf wizard had saved Tashi that time. “The giant who guarded the Spirit Shrine.”

The mask didn’t move, but the voice diminished as he deviated from the script. “I need a name.”

The sheriff squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the tiny model temple on the string around his neck. This enabled him to call forth the wisdom of past abbots, including the name of their guardian spirit, the one fond of tricks. “The archfiend Archanon.”

Thunder struck the summit again, leaving the plateau in darkness. Only the burning anger of Intaglios lit the scene. “This has never been done. Let the Assembly bear me out.”

Technically, priests of the other gods would stone someone for even speaking to one of the Fallen. However, that mattered little to Tashi, who was already under a deaththe ence by the Brotherhood of Executioners, the emperor, and the wizards of House Kragen.

A chorus came from behind the veil. “There is nothing against it in the Law. We would allow this if he can offer good cause.”

Tashi explained, “Archanon tried to avoid a debt owed to me and the Traveler, but I suspect he hasn’t found the results easy to bear. I’ll release him his debt completely if he answers me fairly.”

The mask tilted. A bell chimed from the other side. Intaglios vanished, leaving total night in the courtyard. An indeterminate amount of time later, Tashi heard someone being given the bum’s rush. The figure of his deceased friend Babu tumbled down the floating staircase. After dusting off his uniform, the pie-faced mercenary snapped his fingers and said, “Light!” However, divine displeasure dampened his efforts and nothing appeared.

Turning to Tashi in the dark, the shape-shifted Archanon recited, “I can reveal nothing forbidden by the gods but will answer to the best of my ability. Ask your question, seeker.”

“Actually, I have three,” said Tashi.


What
?” bellowed the voice of Intaglios from beyond the Door.

Archanon smiled. “Agreed. To this, I bear witness; he has died legally two times by the ancient guidelines. Thus, the wording of your offer gives him the right to three.” Whispering, he added, “I know the rules too, you insufferable bastard.”

Intaglios rumbled. “He would close the Stairs of Supplication for another three generations? We have loyal followers who need our guidance.”

Tashi wasn’t cowed. “I can stay here indefinitely. If you don’t honor your word, no one will ever use the Stairs again.”

Sounds of thunder deafened both momentarily, and the mask vanished.

Archanon waited for a lull and said, “The law’s on his side. Shall we record that Hot Head continues to interfere with due process?”

Silence.

The form of Babu grinned and rocked, amused at some private joke. Taking the silence as permission, the fiend clapped his hands. Suddenly, the two were sitting by firelight. “Go ahead. Make them good ones, because we’ve both just made an enemy.”

Tashi held up a hand. He wasn’t as wise as his teacher, but he knew how to manage his own limitations. “Any official question I ask will begin with the word ‘question’ and its number. No question or comment I speak without that designation is to be taken as official. Since you’ve sworn to answer a question completely and to my understanding, the discussion will be just to clarify. For reasons you’re aware of, I’m a little slow and wish to prevent misunderstanding among those witnessing.”

Archanon nodded.

Tashi took a deep breath. He hadn’t planned on asking this but couldn’t help himself. “I need to know how much I can trust you. Question one: Tell me all you can about how you became an archfiend in the service of the Traveler.”

The form of the mercenary put his finger to his lips. “Perhaps it would help if you told me what you already know about fiends. This will make my task much easier. There are things that I can’t say, but if you prove you know them already, or can guess them, I can reference them freely.”

Tashi nodded, staring into the campfire. “From my master’s teachings, I know that this city was one of your largest and best designed. It had religious significance. Of all your people, only a few hundred ascended to become the People of the Dawn, feeding directly off life energy from the sun. Of those, only a few dozen became immortal. Then, seven of those set themselves up as gods by feeding off men. Osos became ruler of all by becoming the first to feed off the other Dawn people. Those who didn’t make the transition to gods were divided into angels and fiends depending on who they supported. We assume archfiends and archangels are used to keep the others in line. People were never supposed to see them, but there are a few obscure references in the mysteries. Men have also been known to run across the odd starving or mad fiend wandering the waste places.”

Archanon spit into the flames, causing a crackle. “I could fit everything your precious teacher thinks he knows into a thimble and still have room for my finger.”

Ladling out a bowl of stew, he brought it to the sheriff. Tashi took the offering but didn’t eat because he didn’t want the distraction. “Our cities were all well-designed. Most never grew above a few thousand. For reasons of optimum employment, power efficiency, and ecology we never got too big. This high place was an exception, drawing an extreme concentration of people because of its ideological value. It was a place of pilgrimage and ultimately a rallying point for the persecuted.”

“You were born into some sort of minority?”

“Not born; I chose. This city was a shelter for our ‘minority’. It became a showcase, a cultural icon, and eventually a killing box. Less than one percent of our race survived the war. After that disaster, we made a set of absolute rules to prevent anything like that from happening again. Everyone who wanted to remain part of our society had to swear. Oaths are quite binding to our kind. Those refusing the oath had certain behavioral conditioning branded into them by the rest of us. It drove some to the madness you mentioned, yet this was necessary for civilization.”

Tashi resented this process being called civilized. He said, “But those rules weren’t enough. You still had wars.”

“They were . . . incomplete. The last strictures placed on us were against communication or interference with your kind. There were a few loopholes, such as your Traveler and the Stairs.”

“These didn’t cause wars. Your numbers plummeted by a factor of ten.”

Archanon put a finger over his lips again. Eventually, he said, “Becoming a member of the Dawn race wasn’t enough. Our people could still die. I can’t tell you how. The relevant issue here is
why
they died. Your emphasis on the numbers was very close. After many years, our dimensional mathematicians determined that, given the mana or life-energy output of our sun, this world could only support thirty-nine immortals. Can you guess why the rest went to war?”

Tashi thought for a time, realizing the weight being placed on his every response. Archanon was bending the strictures as far as he could, but he needed the right tools, the proper words to cobble together. “Like farmers living near the source of a river, they could divert it, and steal it for their own crops and wells. The thirty-nine would consume all the life energy, leaving none for the others. To survive, the Dawn people had to become one of the thirty-nine or kill all those who could.”

The fnd nodded. “As you guessed, I was one of those who opposed Osos for that very reason. The wars lasted a very long time, distracting us from a small amount of leakage. Your people sprang up in the interim, able to subsist on the barest amount of mana, like camels in the desert. Sometimes nature surprises even me.”

The form of Babu paced around the fire. “This changed the dynamic of the war. Not only did the others use your people as cattle, extra food in our sieges, but they also used your populations as buffers to protect themselves against attacks. The practice sickened me. I had to do something to stop this atrocity. There was a faction that argued for total eradication of your kind. My faction wanted to liberate your race from slavery. How ironic that you now worship your exploiters as gods and call those who fought for your freedom demons.”

Archanon moved closer to Tashi, so close their faces were almost touching. In a whisper, he said, “You were wrong about Osos being the first. He was terrible at basic research, but good at politics, stealing ideas from true men of science, and swaying the weak-minded.” Bragging in a normal tone, he continued, “
I
was the first to harness the Dawn race as a power source. Using the Dominance Principle, I bound six convicted captives to me. I rose to immortal status and wrought bloody havoc on his alliance.” Archanon’s voice had built to almost a shout.

“At the apex of the conflict, there were ten archfiends or archangels, and nine human-eaters. Those were terrible and glorious times. In a daring gambit, my side almost won in a single magnificent strike.” The form of the mercenary backed away until shadow covered his face. Nothing but black pits could be seen around his eyes. His voice dropped to the level of a man expressing his condolences at a funeral. “We quite nearly destroyed the world. It was Calligrose who stopped the . . . side-effects and saved us. He forged the compromise. We all agreed to limit our number to twenty immortals, and Calligrose would be the last. The rest of the Dawn race would be able to eke out a living on the half of the mana flow that remained.”

Archanon tossed another twig into the yellow flames. “That day, we became the Great Council, each with one vote, each subject to the will of the majority. More rules were made and etched upon the foundations of the world. We unanimously enacted horrifying penalties for violating even the smallest of these new laws. Mighty in battle, I lost in the committee.”

The fiend put his forehead against a stone wall support and waited until he could master his own breathing. He was back to a whisper. “Then Osos made an example of me and three others. We were judged to be retroactively in breach of the new contract. I lost by two votes. One of my former allies switched sides at the last moment. I was branded a criminal and cast out into the dark underside of reality that you could only imagine as nightmare.”

The fiend punched the wall, but the wall remained. Blood welled up on his knuckles.

Tashi guessed the rest. “With eleven council members in his pocket, Osos ruled the universe. While you suffered with new torments every day, he drank from a golden chalice in the Halls of Eternity. He stole your honor, your name, your godhood from you and left you with ash, pain, and shame.”

The mercenary turned and looked almost tenderly at him. “Are we talking about you or me, friend?” Tashi lowered his eyes. “I knew I liked you for a reason. You understand a little. Yes, it was like that, multiplied by centuries—until the blessed day.”

Again, Tashi guessed, “When the Traveler tricked Osos into absorbing the power of boundaries? Our sect teaches that Osos couldn’t hold contain so much energy and was transfigured into the Compass Star. I see. Then the Council only had nineteen members, and they could make up their own minds without fear of following in your wake.”

Archanon nodded. “Calligrose moved quickly. He amended the laws. After a sufficient number of cycles, any god could recommend parole for an offender. The sponsor would be equally culpable for any relapse or new infraction committed by the criminal. During the parole period, the offender was sentenced to a long period of penance, performing good deeds to aid both gods and men, and healing the damage where possible. Who do you think could free a prisoner?”

Tashi was struck by the simple elegance. This was the real message that the archfiend communicated. But why was he making Tashi say this? “I freed you, so it must be those being served—men.”

“More specifically?”

“High priests?” guessed Tashi.

Archanon laid a finger aside his nose. “Since Calligrose was my sponsor, I served him as faithfully as I know how. You, as a high priest, unwittingly granted me my final freedom when we met in the Garden of Harmony. This is why you may trust me.”

Tashi bowed, accepting the answer. “If you answer all of my questions as well as this first, I shall send you on your way with my blessing.” Tashi was suddenly very hungry. Before continuing, he made good use of the stew.

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