Three (The Godslayer Cycle Book 3) (23 page)

“To be quite honest,” responded Hamil soberly, “I would say you have already begun doing exactly that.  Deities must mature, grow considerably more powerful than any of the New Order are right now before we begin to possess enough power to begin slaying our kin. 
You
have already killed a God, and you are still more mortal than deity.  From where I sit, that does not bode well for me in the long run.”

“So why are you still here?” asked Avery bluntly.  “You say it is because you gave your word, but that can't be it entirely.  You're a
God
.  You're the God of Mischief.  If there's anyone--”

“There are three laws that no God may break,” interrupted Hamil.  “They are known as the Rules of Divinity.  And most important of all of these is that we are bound by our word.  Without the natural compulsion for that, no God could ever be held to the covenants between mortals and the divine, and we could never gain the devotion we need to grow.  I gave my word to serve you as a God, and though I could not have foreseen it at the time, I trapped myself by making such a pledge.  Once you began to absorb divine energy, you began to evolve yourself - and by the nature of my oath, I find myself now completely unable to break my bond.”

Avery was ready to debate the issue further, but Hamil continued.  “Think of it like breathing.  You feel a compulsive need to draw breath.  You cannot help yourself.  You may stop yourself for a short time, act against your nature, but not for long.  Eventually you will draw breath, even if you have to lose consciousness and let your body's own nature take over and breathe for you.  This is how it is to be a God - we must keep our word, because to do otherwise would overpower us and force us to do it whether we wished to or not.  And as unpleasant as it is for you to not draw a breath, you must understand that it is
considerably
more hurtful to a God to go against such a primal aspect of our existence.  I could no more violate the Rules of Divinity than you could gain the power to... burst into flames...”

Hamil appeared suddenly distracted, then alarmed.  His features shifted away from his mortal appearance and in an instant, he was in his true shape.  As Ankor, he commanded, “Vanish.  Now!”

Avery's response was more an instinctive need for self-preservation than obedience, shocked by the sudden ferocity of the God's words.  Even faster than it had taken Ankor to assume his true face, Avery had called upon
One
to make him invisible.  As soon as he had acted, however, he felt an immediate sense of frustration at having acted without thinking - until the reason for the God's warning became apparent.

No sooner had Avery vanished from sight, than two other beings appeared out of the air in front of where he sat.  He knew that
One
's magic would mask him from their perceptions, but it was still incredibly hard to find himself so close to two entirely new deities.

“Sisters!” called Ankor, his arms going wide in welcome.  Avery was caught off guard at how quickly the God's mannerisms had changed, going from the serious, reflective personality he knew so well to this childish, mocking one.  “You know, I was
just
thinking about how much I longed for a tryst!  And no sooner do I think this, than two of my loveliest sisters appear to answer my whims!  Surely, I must consider renaming myself the God of Wish Fulfillment!”

“We do not have time for your games, Ankor,” said the darker of the pair.  “Enuchek has told me of your plots and schemes.  Where is your pet Godslayer?”

“My pet?” laughed Ankor.  “Oh, if Enuchek told you I had a pet, she is playing her own game--”

“I did not tell her that,” spoke up the other Goddess, looking offended that the darker Goddess would have accused her of such a thing.

“No.  She told me that you manipulated our brothers to face off against two Godslayers,” amended the dark Goddess.  “And the only way you could have done that was if at least
one
of those mortals were at your beck and call.”

The dark Goddess took a step forward menacingly.  “And so I ask again: where is your pet, Trickster?”

Ankor stood up, assuming an exaggerated posture.  “Oh, that makes sense.  Everything must be as you say, because that's just the way it is, right?  Oh wait!”  Ankor snapped his fingers as he relaxed his posture.  “Isn't your dominion over the
unseen
, Belask?  How can you know something if your specialty is
not
knowing?”

“Ankor.”  The Goddess identified as Belask curled her lip.  “Tell me what I wish to know.  Or you
will
regret it.  Believe in that.”

Ankor slapped his knee, bending over in laughter.  “Oh, you are
such
a tease!”  The God of Mischief reached up and wiped at a tear near his eye.  “But as much fun as this is, you should know that you're a bit late.  You see, even though I can assure you that the Godslayer was
never
my pet, it matters not at all now, 'cause he's dead.”

Belask did not waver, only raising an eyebrow in disbelief.  “Dead.”

“Oh, quite.”  The Trickster nodded his head emphatically.  “Killed by a little girl.  Right over there.” He pointed past where the two Goddess' stood, though only Enuchek let her attention be drawn to where the Trickster pointed.

“You cannot seriously--” Belask scoffed.

“Oh, I know you'll want proof, but I can't provide you any,” interjected Ankor.  “The little girl just blew him up.  And I mean
really
blew him up.  There wasn't even dust left!”  The God of Mischief made a face, then added, “Well, maybe dust.  I haven't exactly tried to tell how much dirt left in the road might be what's left of him...”

“There were two mortals,” Belask insisted.  “Even if what you say were true - which I find highly unlikely, considering how convenient for you that would be - the death of one does not answer what became of the other.”

“Oh, the second mortal has quite escaped my sight,” confessed Ankor.  Conspiratorially, he leaned forward and spoke from behind his hand.  “He can vanish so completely, even a God cannot find him. Why, he could be sitting right there,” and with this, he pointed directly to where Avery sat, “and we would have no idea.”

“Of all the preposterous--” began the dark Goddess.

“Belask, please,” cautioned Enuchek.

The Goddess of the Unseen turned on her compatriot.  “He's lying!  That's all he does, is lie!  It's all a game to him!  How can you ever have thought he ever told you -
any
of you - anything that was true?
This
is the God you have leading your revolution?!”

“Oh, I assure you,” said Ankor, suddenly becoming deathly calm and sincere, “every word I have said is true.  I have already proven my integrity by submitting to Praelis.  Would you also call
her
a liar?  Or what of Corus, who stood at her side when I gave my memory freely to her for inspection?”

Belask looked ready to rebuke what Ankor said when all three Gods stopped at once, shifting their gaze upward.

“Oh, now what,” asked Ankor in exasperation.

With a clap of thunder, three more deities materialized out of thin air.  Lightning visibly crackled around the body of one, while at the feet of another, the very earth seemed to ripple in his presence. The third, a slight woman, seemed to barely exist, her form surrounded near constantly with billowing, diaphanous fabric.

“Ankor!” bellowed the one whose presence elicited a physical response from the earth.  “You are accused of fratricide!  You have committed the foulest of crimes in slaying your brethren, and you will stand accountable!”

“What nonsense is this?” demanded Belask, stepping up fearlessly to the speaker.  “Galanor, have you lost your senses?  The Greater Powers have--”

“Have done nothing!” growled the God of Harvest.  “And so it falls upon those of us who still possess reason to act!”

“What have
I
done?” demanded Ankor, skulking back.  “Who could I possibly have killed?”

“You know well,” spoke the God surrounded with lightning.  “Three of us are gone, and you are the only God who has confessed to being a part of it!”

“Wait, wait, wait!” demanded Ankor.  When all fell silent, the God asked, “When did I get blamed for Imery?”

“Two fallen, one survivor,” spoke up the ephemeral Goddess.  “How fortune does smile upon you, Trickster.”

“Do you expect us to believe you were
spared
?” demanded Galanor.

“Why yes,” said Ankor.  “Because I exercised the greatest power of all: I ran away!”

“Certainly,” said the diaphanously dressed Goddess.  “
After
you saw to your brethren's deaths, you ran away before you could be accused.”

“Enough!” cried the lightning-shrouded God, thrusting his fist to the ground.  In response, a great bolt of lightning struck from the clear sky, charring the ground at his feet.  “Whatever oddity has gifted you the power to slay our fellows will be removed!”

“We cannot abide--” began Galanor.

“You may not act against the will of the Greater Powers,” inserted Belask.  As she spoke, she raised her hands, a dark shadow beginning to take shape around her body.  Behind the Goddess of the Unseen, Enuchek took a defensive staff, her hands taking on a nebulous glow.

Galanor sneered.  Clenching his fists, he flexed his arms as the earth around him began to rise at his sides, forming two separate crests of dirt and soil that looked more like waves than solid ground.  The other Goddess' silken shrouds began to writhe in menacing swirls while the air all around the three Gods began to spark and broil with untamed energy.  Dirt and debris began to swirl through the air, writhing about the combatants like a great cyclone, making it impossible to see anything beyond.

The tension in the air was palpable.  The only deity who was not manifesting any kind of visible power was Ankor, whose eyes simply darted back and forth between his siblings.  Silence hung over the gathering, each deity waiting for one or another to break the stand-off.  And yet it was not the Gods who broke the impasse...

“In Imery's name!” came a woman's voice shouting over the chaotic din, followed almost immediately by a bolt of pure white light which shot through the air between the two deadlocked group of Gods.

Galanor and Belask were too focused on each other to look away, but the other Gods looked to the direction of the new attack.  The diaphanous Goddess was the first to react.  “Who invokes our sister's name?”

“Oh boy,” said Ankor, doing his best to move back and away from the forthcoming conflagration.

Avery's own view cleared as the power ebbing through the air faltered, the swirling storm settling the dust and debris that had obstructed his view.  Standing in a cluster in the direction of Bracken's camp stood the remainder of his new companions.  Bracken stood with his axe, and Avery's own three mercenary guards flanked him with their own swords drawn.  Viola was nowhere to be seen, yet in the forefront of all stood Brea, the air around her form crackling with its own power.

“I am the Lady Brea, Imery's chosen,” called the priestess.  “I know not the reason for your trespass here, but I command you in Imery's name to take your conflict elsewhere.”

Galanor guffawed loudly.  “A mortal?  A mortal
girl
would command
Gods
?!”

“Not just a girl,” Avery heard himself say, stepping away from his own concealment,
One
raised in front of him.  “This God is under our protection.  Leave or die.”

All of the Gods displayed various signs of confusion at Avery's abrupt appearance, eliciting a wicked smile from the man.

“So commands the Godslayer!”

Brea's eyes had snapped open of their own accord.  Her mind was far less aware of why they should do so, and it took several moments for her to recognize that there really
was
a reason for waking up so suddenly.  At first though, all she could focus on was the dim light of early dawn creeping in through the crack of the door, left open presumably to make allowances for the excessive heat the fire in the center of the room produced.

Some kind of commotion could be heard immediately outside the door, but this was not what had woken the priestess.  She was certain of that.  Something had physically woken her before her other senses had detected anything - so the noise was not it.

That was when the woman realized what it was - there was an overwhelming sense of power, a kind of power she had not exactly sensed before.  The closest she could relate the feeling to was from when she had been assaulted by Imery.  And that meant that the feeling of power buzzing through her mind had to be divine in origin - it was the only answer.  Yet the sheer magnitude of the power suggested it was something far greater than what she had experienced with her now deceased Goddess.

“Bracken,” Brea called, rising quickly.  She scrambled for her sandals as a large ball of tussled hair emerged from below a blanket from across the room.  “Something is happening.  We need to go!”

Anyone else might have stopped to question the girl's words, but not the dwarf.  His loyalty was unflagging, his commitment absolute.  If Brea said they were needed, he did not stop to ask questions - he simply acted.  In a moment, he was on his feet, kicking at two other bundles upon the ground.  “Get up, ya sods!”

Lartien was a trained veteran and he suffered the harsh arousal without a word, though his glare at the dwarf could have melted steel.  Loris was far less amicable. 

“I just finished watch,” he grumbled, rolling away from the dwarf who now rummaged through his own equipment.  The overcrowded room did not give him any room, however, and he bumped rather roughly against the wall of the shack as he moved.  “Let someone else go.”

“Rise now or I'll behead you where you lie,” growled Lartien, kicking his own blankets aside.

From across the room, Viola lifted her head from below the furs she would normally have shared with Avery.  “Wha's goin' on?” she asked sleepily.

None paid her any mind however, and in moments the band had rushed out the door, leaving the girl looking dumbly after them.

No sooner had the group exited the shelter than loud sounds of crackling and pops could be heard from the direction of the town proper. 
Where Avery's on watch
, noted the priestess, quickly leading the band in that direction. 

Nalen, who had been maintaining his own watch outside the shack, fell into step as Lartien motioned wordlessly for the third mercenary to join them.  None questioned the priestess' lead. Everyone with a sword or axe were now armed as they hurried to confront whatever threat now existed. 

A maelstrom obstructed the group's view as soon as they walked onto the main street of the town, swirling bits of dirt, debris and refuse in a great circular storm that encompassed the road ahead entirely.  Through brief glimpses into the chaos, Brea could see shadowy shapes standing untouched by the storm.

The priestess reached into her core and felt the power within her reaching out for her in turn.  Like called to like, and the divine energy that had resided within her bosom since she had witnessed Imery's death responded to the divine energies being flung about ahead.  Without even needing to form the thought, the energy manifested as a nimbus of light that suffused her entire being.  As she came to a stop at the edge of the artificial storm, Brea raised her arm and sent a bolt of hot white light into the heart of the destructive typhoon.

“In Imery's name!” the woman heard herself call over the din.

The storm fell away, the winds abating and the debris settling to earth.  Silhouetted amidst the dust cloud remaining were six figures, all with some level of power emanating from them.  Most had visible manifestations - such as the one who had crackling bits of energy radiating from his body, or the one who had two large crests of earth wavering at his side - while one notably had none.  But even from the God who demonstrated no physical manifestation of power, Brea could detect the brim of power ebbing below his visible presence. 

“Who invokes our sister's name?” asked the Goddess whose clothes writhed around her like living things.

There was no doubt in the woman's mind that there stood before her six Gods and Goddesses, with clear lines of opposition drawn between them.  Two of the Gods and one Goddess stood against the remaining two Goddesses, while the final God held back behind his defenders.  “Oh boy,” said this last God.

“I am the Lady Brea, Imery's chosen,” the woman called back.  “I know not the reason for your trespass here, but I command you in Imery's name to take your conflict elsewhere.”

“A mortal?  A mortal
girl
would command
Gods
?!”
bellowed the God who seemed to have two liquid piles of dirt holding at his side.

“Not just a girl.” Avery's voice was followed almost immediately by his sudden manifestation out of thin air.  Even Brea had not felt the presence of the man, but now that he had appeared, his own lesser divine energy added to that which pummeled the woman's senses from the true Gods in their midst.

Avery raised his blade and smiled wickedly.  “This God is under our protection.  Leave or die.”  Brea shot a look of annoyance at the pretend God, but Avery ignored her entirely.  “So commands the Godslayer!”

“The Godslayer!” hissed the ebony skinned Goddess, shadows forming around her body like a foreboding aura.  “I knew your pet must be near, Trickster!”

“
Not
my pet,” argued the God who had been letting the two Goddesses act as his shield.  “How was I to know he was here?  Did any of
you
know he was here?  I told you - he can hide from a God's vision!”

Brea did her best to not react to Avery's usurpation of Nathan's title.  Instead, she ran the images of the deities before her through her mind, doing her best to try to identify which Gods stood in their presence.  She was fairly certain that none of them were of the Old Gods.  She might have thought some were if any of them had registered anything other than surprise at seeing Avery use
One
.  The one being sheltered she was the only one she knew for certain, though - the God of Mischief Ankor.

The Goddess standing beside the dark one turned to face Brea.  “Sister, I
feel
Imery's presence. I think this woman speaks true.  She somehow
is
Imery's chosen, which can only mean that Imery must still live!”

“No,” corrected Brea, feeling a momentary tinge of sympathy.  There had been a moment of genuine concern in the Goddess' voice, and it had touched some primal part of the priestess.  But it was quickly set aside in recognition of the genuine threat posed to all around her.  “Imery died.  I was there.  I cannot explain how I keep her power after her passing, but make no mistake.  I
am
her last chosen on Na'Ril and I
do
speak in her name.”

“You speak for nothing!” shouted the God with lightning flashing across his body.  He clenched his fists, building up power there for a strike.  “You are a little girl who pretends at being more important than she is.  Begone, and leave your betters to our own affairs!”

Brea's anger rose and she could feel her power rise in response.  More than one of the Gods present registered shock at the visible manifestation of power being displayed, and the priestess grinned.  Part of her felt an insane amount of fear at what she was doing, but the divine power in her body sheltered the fragile part of her personality from any true consequences.  There was a confidence in wielding this power that outshone any frail human emotion.

“She is an avatar,” said the diaphanously dressed woman, her silks moving about her body in an agitated fashion.  “She has Imery's power.  She
must
have stolen it...”

The God surrounded by earth moved, but instead of walking, he seemed to shift away from where he was and appeared the next moment directly in front of Brea.  The mounds of earth fell back to the ground that had spawned them as the large being looked intently into the woman's face.  “Is this true? Are you the slayer of our sister, thief of her mantle?”

“The Godslayer slew your sister,” responded Brea, setting her spine against the overwhelming presence the God exerted upon her.  “Not this one, another.  I received Imery's blessing before she passed, and I retained it and more after she was gone.”

Brea shocked herself by stabbing a finger into the chest of the being in front of her.  “None of this matters.  I have commanded you to leave, and you will obey.”  The priestess felt energy surge to her finger and felt the manifested skin below her touch begin to burn at her touch. 

The large God took a step back, his hand going reflexively to the point where Brea had just touched.  “How--”

“Enough!” shouted the lightning-shrouded God, his fist flinging out, sending a bolt of arclight surging through the air at Brea.  Without a thought, the priestess grabbed at the large God's body in front of her and thrust him into the bolt's path.  The large man screamed as the energy collided with his back.  He fell a moment later, his back smoldering with discharged energy.

“Galanor!” called several of the Gods at once.  This was followed almost as quickly by another loud shriek, accompanied by an even louder burst of cacophonous thunder. 

Brea looked to the source of the sound to see the lightning God fallen to the ground, visibly clutching where his hand had once been.  Avery stood over the God,
One
practically glowing as energy from the wound of the God seemed to bleed up and towards the blade.

“Mastron!”  The diaphanously dressed Goddess fell to the other God's side, her silks moving at the speed of thought to wrap around the dismembered arm.  All the while, various shapes and forms of the God's hand attempted to materialize around the severing point, but none could properly manifest before dissolving and being drawn as points of light towards Avery's sword.

Chaos erupted.  Brea quickly lost sight of Avery and his godslayer sword as she found herself pressed on two sides by Gods who sought to command her attention.  The dark Goddess had apparently forgotten her quarrel with Galanor and raced to stand over him in defense.  Meanwhile, Galanor himself rose up in a mighty rage, raising his fists over his head to smite the mortal woman in front of him.

The priestess threw her own arms into the air, a golden shield erupting between herself and the rampaging God.  Galanor's fists collided with the barrier, and the woman was amazed at how the God's body was flung into the air like a limp rag doll.  The dark Goddess stopped short of the barrier, throwing up her own dark shield, which she sent clashing into the light barrier erected by the priestess.

Bracken rushed past Brea's side, his axe leading the charge.  Amazingly, he passed through the light as though it were nothing more than the light it appeared to be, the large weapon aimed in front of him like a poleaxe.  The upper edge of the great axe's blade burst through the dark energies just as readily and pierced the dark Goddess in her ribs.

The ebon Goddess' face registered shock as a visible energy built around the point of penetration. Without any other warning, an explosion erupted from within the wound, throwing the Goddess and her attacker alike away from the point of impact.

Bracken recovered far quicker than the Goddess but the axe had fallen from his grip, leaving him defenseless.  The Goddess however lay upon the ground clutching at her side in confusion.  “Impossible...”

The dwarf cast about for his axe and spied it embedded in the ground some distance away.  Cursing, he turned his back on the Goddess to retrieve his weapon, leaving her ample time to rise again.  Her hand moved over where the blade had pierced her and in a moment, there was no sign of a wound at all.

That did not last, however.  No sooner did the wound vanish than a new one was created - as the silver end of a sword stabbed at her front.  This strike however did not cause her to shirk whatsoever.  Loris and Nalen had appeared out of nowhere, seeking to press the assault upon the Goddess.

“No!”  Brea's voice cracked, but it would not have mattered if her voice had been to its full strength. Her words were barely uttered before the Goddess swept her arm to the side, dark shadow erupting outward like a scythe, slicing the two attackers in twain.  Shock registered on Nalen's face as his body twisted to face Brea before his upper torso fell to the ground lifeless.

A new scream erupted from the distance, and Brea's attention was instantly drawn to another point of conflict.  Avery stood with his sword buried in the chest of the Goddess who had stood beside the ebon one, her head thrown back as she cried an echoing shriek of agony.  The battle fell silent as all eyes were drawn to the impossible feat - a Goddess impaled upon a sword.

The Goddess remained held, helpless as multiple facets of herself began to swirl about her, drawn into the form held in place by the blade.  Energy waves began to pulse outward from the focal point of the tempest.  The God who had wielded the lighting had tears of fire burning his face as he held his own arm, now showing no sign at all of trying to reform.  The Goddess who had come to his aid was nowhere to be seen.  Even at this distance, Brea could hear the Mastron's whispered protest.  “Enuchek, no...”