The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1 (29 page)

As soon as she did, a wave of sleet fell into her face. The abruptness of the ice cold sleet was shocking, causing her to try to come to a halt. Unfortunately, the ground was slippery beneath her feet, sending her sliding across the layer of sleet on the ground all the way to the edge of the cliff.

Durima tried to stop, but she was going too fast. In an instant, she went off the side of the cliff and fell toward the ocean waters below. Or she would have, if she hadn't reached out with her free claw and dug it as deeply as she could into the side of the cliff.

Even then, she only succeeded in slowing their descent. Her claw tore through the rock as they descended, sending dust and dirt into her eyes, until it finally caught on something too thick for it to cut through, thus stopping them abruptly about halfway down.

Panting, blinking her eyes to get the dust out of them, Durima looked down below at the crashing waves that beat against the island's base. She then looked at Gujak, who despite the fall wasn't even stirring, which was good because knowing Gujak, he would be freaking out if he was awake at the moment.

Then Durima looked up at the sky. Although it was quite dark due to it being night time, Durima could tell that the sky was completely covered with dark storm clouds that poured sleet. Being so close up against the island, Durima and Gujak managed to avoid the worst of it; nonetheless, Durima could feel her fur getting cold and wet as the sleet fell from the sky by the bucketful.

That's why I lost my footing and slid off the cliff,
Durima realized.
It must have been sleeting hard for several minutes before we even got out of Bleak Rock. But why …?

The answer came to her immediately: The Spider Goddess had also been the Goddess of Sleet. Without her around to control the sleet, it was no wonder that the weather around Bleak Rock was going insane. This was probably a temporary affair, as Skimif would no doubt take control of the Spider Goddess's domains soon enough. Even so, if the other gods had not sensed their sister's death earlier, then surely they would notice the uncontrollable sleet that was pounding the seas and conclude that something was amiss.

Which just gives me extra motivation to get the hell out of here,
Durima thought.

Entering the ethereal from their current position would be difficult, dangerous even, but not impossible. Once, during the Katabans War, Durima had jumped off a tall cliff to evade capture from enemy soldiers and had fallen into the ethereal right before hitting the ground at the base of the cliff. It was not something she had done in years, but she figured she could do it.

I
have
to do it again,
Durima thought, glancing at the roaring waves below.
I don't have much of a choice.

After making sure that Gujak was still hanging safely over her shoulder, Durima focused on a spot just below them. She didn't see why she couldn't open the ethereal here; however, it could be difficult sometimes to predict where a portal to the ethereal, opened in the air, would take you. Sometimes, if you did it wrong, you could end up on the other side of the world, although that kind of mistake was usually only made by young katabans who weren't familiar with ethereal travel.

The hardest part was letting go of the cliff to fall into the portal that would open and catch her. Despite the pressure on her claw, the heavy sleet, and Gujak's own weight, Durima's instincts forced her to hold on as long as possible. That was probably because she couldn't see the portal yet, only the terrifying, violent waves that beat against the base of the island like an army battering down the door of an enemy fortress.

Another reason to hate physical bodies,
Durima thought with a scowl.
Dumb instincts that aren't based in reason or evidence or facts. They only care about the appearances of things, not the actual nature of—

Without warning, the rock that she had hooked her claw around broke. Panic rising in her chest, Durima could not help but scream as she and Gujak fell toward the loud ocean waves below, which continued to bash at the island's base even more violently than before.

But they didn't fall into the ocean. Instead, a portal opened up between them and the sea and it was that portal they fell into. As they passed through, the world around them became dark and silent, the only sounds being Durima's screams as they became lost in the dark void between Martir and the ethereal.

Then everything slowly came back into view and Durima landed hard on the shining white road that was the ethereal. The fall took her breath away, but she recovered quickly enough. She floated back to an upright position and, without taking even a moment to think about it, immediately flew down in the direction that she knew would take her to North Academy.

She flew as fast as she could, past dozens of other katabans traveling along the ethereal. No one tried to stop her, but she got several odd looks from most of the katabans she passed. No doubt they noticed Gujak hanging unconscious over her shoulder, but hopefully they would assume that he was injured and she, as his kind and caring friend, was trying to get him to a doctor or healer as fast as she could.

Of course, the main reason for her speed was because she didn't want the others to know about what she and Gujak had just gotten away with. She didn't sense any fear or unexplainable terror in the other katabans, which maybe meant they didn't even know the Spider Goddess was dead yet.

They'll know soon enough,
Durima thought.
And when they do, they'll stop at nothing to tear us apart.

One of the useful advantages of the ethereal was the way in which space/time worked. Whereas a journey from Bleak Rock to North Academy in Martir would take, depending on your speed and method of travel, anywhere from several weeks to several months, in the ethereal, the same journey would only take perhaps fifteen minutes. And that was if you were an inexperienced ethereal traveler who didn't even know about all of the shortcuts you could take.

Durima was no inexperienced ethereal traveler. She veered to the left, imagining another portal, but rather than a portal that opened up to another part of Martir, it was a portal that would take her to another part of the ethereal, closer to where she could get off at North Academy. It was a tricky move, but not terribly difficult after some practice.

Then that portal appeared before her and she jumped into it. Unlike traveling between Martir and the ethereal, this 'inter-ethereal travel,' as it known among katabans, had no real transitioning sequence.

One moment, she was on the right side of the ethereal; the next, she found herself floating on the left side. It was difficult to tell, of course, due to lack of said transitioning sequence, but certain clues—such as the position of the stars in the sky above, which resembled North Academy—told her that she was indeed close to where she had to be.

So Durima once again flew down the ethereal. There were few katabans here, mostly because it was generally impossible to enter North Academy via the ethereal due to the spell that 'locked' the school's portal.

But Master had told her that he would negate that spell once he got to North Academy so that Durima and Gujak could directly enter the school's graveyard without needing to climb the Walls as they had done on their first trip there. She just hoped that Master had succeeded in doing that, because if he didn't, then she and Gujak were going to be in big trouble.

In less than a minute, Durima found it. The portal to North Academy was open for the first time in … well, she didn't know how long, seeing as it had been locked for as long as she could remember. Through the portal, she saw mist and darkness, but she didn't stop to observe more closely because her fear of being caught by her fellow katabans drove her ever forward without hesitation.

Durima launched herself and Gujak directly through the portal. As always, everything around her went dark and breathing became difficult, but only for a moment. In the next instance, she landed on the dirt of the graveyard feet first, almost tripping over her own feet before catching herself and regaining her balance. Gujak's arms and legs flopped uselessly against her body, but he still didn't stir even one inch.

It took Durima's eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness and mist, as she had transitioned from the ethereal to Martir far more quickly than she normally did. Thankfully, it only took her a few seconds to adjust … but when they did, she wished they hadn't.

All around her, everywhere she looked, were gods. Not just a handful of gods, but ten, twenty, thirty, maybe even more than that. Some stood on the ground, like Nimiko, while others flew or floated in the sky above, such as the Avian Goddess. The Tusked God towered over everyone else and even Skimif himself, radiating as much power as all of the other gods combined, was present.

Not only that, but she soon noticed Master, the Ghostly God, lying unconscious on the ground near an open grave. He looked like someone had punched him out. He wasn't even stirring. He could have been dead and Durima wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.

Durima hardly believed what she saw, largely due to the overwhelming, almost primal fear that was overriding her rational thinking skills. She had gotten here as fast as she could, hoping against hope that Master would protect her and Gujak from his siblings, but she had jumped straight into the middle of the largest gathering of gods she had ever seen in one place. And all of them were looking at her and Gujak, as though the two katabans' sudden appearance had taken them by surprise.

That was when Durima heard someone cry out in pain and fall to the ground. She looked toward the grave again and saw the Magical Superior lying on the ground like he had taken a walloping as well. That puzzled her for a moment before she sensed a powerful presence appear right next to her.

Looking to her right, Durima saw, with horror, a being with purplish-black skin, the same color and texture as Uron's. He had a terrifying human/snake face hybrid and he smelled like a rotting corpse, even though he appeared to be as alive as anyone else. Sheer power radiated from his form like light from the sun, a level of power equal to that of Skimif's.

At that same moment, Gujak awoke with a start. He jerked so suddenly in her arms that Durima had to drop him. He landed on his bottom at the feet of the being that Durima had never seen before, blinking rapidly as he returned to consciousness.

“What?” said Gujak, looking around at all of the gathered gods. “Where are we? Why are there so many gods here? And who are you?”

Gujak addressed that last question to the snake-skinned being who stood above him. Why Gujak apparently wasn't afraid of him, Durima didn't know. Perhaps he was still waking up or maybe he was just that dumb and naïve, as Durima had always suspected he was.

The being smiled a smile that reminded Durima of how Uron had looked whenever it was pleased. “You're just in time, Durima, Gujak. I thought for a moment that maybe you two had failed in your mission, considering your general incompetence, but when I felt the Spider Goddess's death, I knew then and there that I had won.”

Gujak blinked. “What?”

“What do you mean, the Spider Goddess's death?” said a slightly panicked voice nearby.

Durima glanced in the direction that the voice had come from. One of the school mages was standing there, perhaps one of the students. He had short brown hair, a long face, and a small nose. His robes were ripped in some places and he looked like he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in years.

What's a mortal man doing here, of all places?
Durima thought.
Now that I think about it, what is anyone doing here? Who is this guy who looks like Uron? Why is Master unconscious? Why are there so many gods from both Pantheons present? And why is Skimif himself among them?

She never got a chance to verbalize her questions, however, because the being who looked like Uron bent down and grabbed Gujak's right arm, the one gloved with the God-killer. Durima recognized the way the being's long fingers wrapped around Gujak's upper arm from her days in the War, as he was using a technique she had once used on an enemy soldier. But it was too late for her to look away or stop him.

The sound of wood being torn apart, mixed with Gujak's screams of terror and pain, split Durima's ears and even made some of the gods flinch. The only being who didn't seem affected was the one who had ripped off Gujak's arm.

Holding Gujak's ripped-off arm over his head like it was a prize he had won in a game, the Uron lookalike grabbed the God-killer and pulled it off Gujak's hand. Much to Durima's surprise, the being succeeded in removing the gauntlet from Gujak's arm, which he then tossed aside like garbage. As for Gujak himself, he lay unconscious on the ground, perhaps having lost consciousness from the pain he had experienced when he lost his arm, although due to his wooden body, he was not bleeding.

In one smooth motion, the Uron lookalike shoved the gauntlet onto his right hand. Flexing his metallic fingers, the Uron lookalike smiled triumphantly at the gods, many of whom were now looking at him like he was a dangerous wild animal. Durima took that moment to grab Gujak and drag him away from Uron, but the strange being didn't seem to notice, or if he did, didn't care enough to try to stop them.

“Uron,” said Skimif. His voice was tight. “What is that thing you are wearing?”

It took Durima a moment to realize that Skimif was addressing the Uron lookalike who had just torn Gujak's arm off.

Why does this being have the same name as Master's pet snake?
Durima thought.
Wait a minute … they can't possibly be the same being, can they?

The Uron lookalike whose name was apparently Uron held up the God-killer for everyone to see. “I am surprised you don't recognize it, Skimif. As the God of Martir, I assumed that you, at least, would know what this is, but I guess even you do not know all of Martir's mysteries. But I will tell you what it is: Your destruction.”

“Hold it,” said a winged goddess, who Durima recognized as the Avian Goddess. “Earlier, you mentioned the death of the Spider Goddess. Did you mean that our sister is dead?”