Two (The Godslayer Cycle Book 2) (18 page)

“It does not mean that you should share all your secrets with her,” protested Malik.

“
Perhaps not, but then – what secrets have you given me that matter?  That the rocks that fell from the sky ward Gods?  Surely the New Order would have discovered that on their own.  The name of our destination?  Brea would have discovered that eventually, too, since even if we evicted her from our company, I suspect she would have just followed us.”

Nathaniel stood back from his work and wiped his brow.  “Seems the only thing that might be of value is that you now have a turncoat God from the other camp meeting with you.  I won't go so far as to say he's on your side, because I don't trust any of the New Order as far as I can throw one of them.  That might be a choice bit of information to the New Order, to know they had a traitor in their midst.  But from where I stand, it seems more of an advantage to let Brea know that than not.”

Malik tilted his head comically.  “In what way would that benefit us?”

“
Look at it this way.”  The man held up one finger.  “If I'm right and Brea is sincerely trying to make amends for what she did under Imery's service, then letting her know will only make her a stronger ally.  She above all else would best know how to ward against one of the New Order Gods, having been a servant of one of them.  She might also know more about Ankor that your faithful may not have known.”

Nathaniel extended a second finger.  “If you're right, Brea's true loyalty will be exposed, and the only thing you will lose will be one of the other side's players.  Ankor owes no loyalty to you, and sooner or later, he will revert to form and betray you.  It's like you said, mischief is not known for being helpful.  Once he feels he is being more help to you than hindrance to his brethren, he will run back to them and leave you vulnerable.  So if Brea exposes him before that happens, it minimizes your own risk.  Then we would also have Brea close at hand to handle her betrayal as well, rather than finding a way to track her down later.”

Snapping his hand down, Nathaniel stared a challenge at the God and Goddess of War and Peace.  “By all means, tell me that I'm wrong.”

Malik didn't say a word in response.  He gave Nathaniel a stern glare – possibly resentful, possibly prideful – and then simply vanished.

“The least he could have done,” Nathaniel groused, turning again to his kill, “was offer to help take the deer back to camp.”

*     *     *

Brea covered her ears.  “Can you please stop?  It wasn't that funny!”

Bracken could not stop laughing.  He had fallen backwards off the log he was sitting on, and continued to roll over and over on the ground, back and forth.  And the whole time, his bellowing guffaws seemed more akin to the sound of rocks grating against each other than real laughter.  Such was the humor of dwarves.

Nathan had returned to camp with a large doe in toe, dragged behind him on a makeshift sled crafted in a diagonal pattern from a pair of branches and the string from his own bow, while the limb of the bow itself had been wedged under the weight of the animal.  The weight of the animal had also worked to keep the bulk of its body on the raised area of the sled, giving the man the ability to pull it behind him without dragging it through the dirt.

Even still, as ingenious as the contraption appeared, Brea could not imagine the amount of strength it would have taken one man to drag it through the woods more than a few feet.  At a glance, the mechanics of it suggested two people would be needed, each to pull on a separate limb.  And yet, Nathan had accomplished it on his own.

Even more amazing was that Nathan had managed to fell anything so large with such a crude bow as what he had assembled yesterday.  He had not demonstrated either the knowledge nor inclination to make a bow while traipsing through the mountains, but within a day of entering the lowland forests, he was quick to find a suitable tree and begin carving the weapon from a freshly downed sapling.  It would likely have taken a considerably greater amount of time if he had not been assisted in cutting away the bulk of the wood by his magical swords, but even still, the feat was remarkable. 

Brea had known a bowyer growing up, and knew about the time and delicate work that went into crafting a bow – including the seasoning, polishing and tempering of the wood.  Nathan had needed none of that, taking a fresh limb and somehow devising the construction of a bow that Brea had assumed would lack any real power.

And yet he had returned with a deer – a broken shaft clearly visible protruding from the rib cage of the beast.

Still, this was not the most astonishing thing that Nathan had brought back with him.  He had also brought back information.  He had told them about Malik's visit.  He explained about the magical potential of the material that had fallen during the firestorm and the fear the Pantheon had of a new God of Truth being appointed by the New Order.  Then he had told them about Ankor – at which point Bracken had lost all control of himself.

“Lass, ya has no idea 'ow wrong ya are,” managed the dwarf, stopping in his rolling as he clutched his stomach, perhaps in an attempt to hold in his laughter.  “No' only're the Gods shaftin' us, they's also doin' it t' each other!” 

Nathan's smile slyly crept across his features.  “It is pretty funny.”

“Not
that
funny,” Brea gestured at the dwarf, who had again resumed his rocking back and forth in mirth.  Tears and snot were streaming from his eyes and nose, and he clearly cared not at all.

The would-be-Avatar shrugged.  “Maybe not
that
funny, but he's a dwarf.  He finds different things funny than even I do.  I haven't seen him laugh this hard since the time a mouse found its way into his mug one day.  Most anyone else would have been sickened, but Bracken wouldn't stop laughing for hours.  And then if you brought it up after he stopped, he would just start all over again.”

Bracken sat up, wiping the back of his arm across his face, smearing mucus and tears alike.  “Tha's 'cause it was a mouse
in m'
mug,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath.  “A
mouse
in m'
mug
!”  This only caused the dwarf to burst into a new fit of laughter, seeing humor apparently even in the explanation that made no sense to anyone else.

Brea squeezed her thumb and forefinger over the bridge of her nose.  “So if we can ignore our rowdy dwarf, are you saying they aren't going to help you if I'm still here?  Isn't that a bit childish?  I mean, didn't he just explain that he's working with one of my Gods?  How can he have a problem with you riding with one of their faithful?”

“I can't disagree with you,” said Nathan.  “And he didn't stay long after I said something similar to him – that if he was so afraid of you, why was he trying to drive you away?  His own tenet says to keep your enemy closer when you think they are defeated.  I reminded him of that, and he didn't like it very much.”

“
What did he say?”

“
He didn't really,” admitted Nathan.  “He just disappeared.”

“
Like I said, childish.  If we don't like his rules, he'll just take his toys and go home.”

“
I'm not entirely sure about that,” said Nathan.  “I mean, it's too simple to just dismiss the Gods – especially Malik – as being immature or childish.  But they
are
Gods.  They aren't children, and they most certainly aren't this naive.  I think he's trying to manipulate me in some way – and he's meeting with me when I am far enough away to make sure no one else grows wise of it.”

“
So he's lying to you?”

“
No, I don't think so.  I think everything he said is true and reasonable.  I just think he's presenting it in a context that will force me to make certain choices.”

Nathan picked up a stick and drew a line in the dirt.  “If I were going to walk along this road,” he explained, as he drew another lie branching from the first, “but you told me that I could find Geoffrey by taking this road, then you would expect me to take this second road.”  He tapped the second line for emphasis.  “But I wouldn't have taken this road if you hadn't given me a reason to.  It probably would never have occurred to me to even look for my son there.”

Brea studied the diagram thoughtfully.  “So something in what he told you – though true – is meant to change your path.  What do you think it was?”

Nathan sighed heavily.  “That's the golden question, isn't it?  Does he expect us to go looking for where one of those fireballs fell?  Is he expecting you to do something about Ankor?  Or is it something even more subtle?”

“Ya cannae trust a God, Nate,” offered Bracken, who was now sitting up, paying closer attention to the conversation.  “Where'r he wan's ya ta go, ya gotta make sure ya don'.  If'n this were the will o' the Gods – more'n one – 'e would no' keep comin' ta you on yer own.  'E's up ta somethin', there's no doubt.”

“
But which direction is he
wanting
us to go, Bracken?” asked Nathan in frustration.

“
No' where 'e wants us ta
go
, Nate.  How 'bout where 'e
don'
want us ta go.”

“
But where would that be?”

Bracken's face went still as stone.  “Where 'e said there was nothin' left, o' course.  'E said Levitz were gone, din't he?  Mayhaps 'e told ya all the rest to give ya a reason ta
no'
go to Levitz first.  If'n y someone knew 'boutcha, some'ne who knew where ya was goin' ta be, an'' tha' some'ne were an all-pow'rful
God
, wouldn' ya want somethin' to pertect yerself?”

Brea could see the inner strife Bracken's words had upon Nathan.  “By the Pit!  And that was exactly what I was thinking – that maybe we could outsmart Ankor and Malik alike and go after whatever it was that could ward off a God.”

Bracken nodded.  “An' if
tha'
were jus' wha' Malik wanted?”

Nathaniel scowled.  “We need to ride straight for Levitz.  If there's something there Malik wants to keep from me, then I think we need to find out what it is sooner rather than later.”

The details of everything substantial was fading.  There was very little color left, and nothing was solid to the touch.  Even details that appeared substantial were in reality nothing more than echoes of the objects they had once been.  Without Imery's will, the energy that had become physically manifest was dissolving into the aether.

Only two islands of solidity existed within this realm.  Two beings stood at the center of the nothingness, taking in all that remained of their sister.

Ironically enough, no place was safer for a clandestine meeting than here.  None of the other Gods wished to dwell upon their sister's mortality, and so they shied away from her demesne.  It was also impossible for any other being to conceal themselves here, for there was no substance with which to hide themselves.  There simply was not a shadow left – real or manufactured – that could hide anything within the former realm of the Goddess of Truth.

“
He's up to something, you realize,” said Kelvor without pretense.

“
When is he not?” responded Galentine. 

“
Have you gleaned any clues as to what game he is playing?”

“
None.  Ankor plays his cards close to his vest, as he ever does.  We will not likely know his game until he deigns to spring the jest on us all.”

Galentine sighed heavily.  “I must admit, I feel shame playing our own game with him.  It goes against my very nature.”

Kelvor inclined his helmed visage to the side.  “It sits well with Justice.  It is appropriate that one who has manipulated and deceived his brethren for so long should be met in kind.”

“
But it is not
honorable
, my brother.”

“
Was Imery's death honorable?  Or that one of our lesser brothers knows the name of her murderer, yet will not relinquish it so that justice may be delivered?”

“
We do not know for certain that Ankor knows who killed Imery,” amended the God of Honor.

“
You believe it as surely as do I,” Kelvor rebutted.

“
I may
believe
it, but there is no honor in accusing without proof.”

“
If he is defending our
sister's
killer, then justice demands he be dealt with harshly and without delay.”

“
You said it,” said Galentine, turning to face his fellow God for the first time.  “If. 
If
we are correct, and
if
Ankor knows who killed Imery, then honor
and
justice would be satisfied.  But we
don't
know.  Not for certain.  And without that certainty, there can be no justice, especially if we're wrong.”

Kelvor growled behind his helm.  “We will never have proof, Galentine.  You know this.  It is better to act upon belief than to not act at all.”

“So blind justice?  No, I cannot abide by that.  I will not.  Even against the Prankster.”

Kelvor turned his helmed features towards his brother deity, his stature forcing him to tilt his head downward.  Despite the smooth, featureless mask he wore, Kelvor gave every impression of staring at the God of Honor for several minutes.  Galentine likewise returned the stare, the pair poised as still as monuments as they each silently sought to impose their will upon the other.

Galentine relented first, turning his gaze once more upon the fading remnants of their deceased kin.  “We will never agree on this, Kelvor.  And since we cannot reach consensus, we must not act at all.  If we are to continue our silent investigation, we must not challenge each other.  We must remain true to the task that Imery set upon us.”

“
To find the source of the Old God's magic within the mortal realm,” agreed the God of Justice.

“
It is still unknown what severed Scollhaven from our mutual resources, brother.  So long as that threat still exists, we must remain true to that.  Yes, Imery's death is significant, and it cannot be denied that her death is somehow linked to this.  But I still believe that the best way to find who killed Imery is to first find who severed our link to our faithful.”

“
And Ankor's story of this Avery person is still our best lead,” added Kelvor grudgingly.  “A mortal whom we cannot find, in spite of his claims to be of Godly descent.  Does it not seem odd that the only source of information about this Avery person comes from Ankor?  Isn't it possible that the Prankster made this man out of his own imagination?”

“
There is another source of collaboration,” corrected Galentine.  “My former priest whom Avery severed from the divine. 
He
spoke quite efficaciously of Avery and his pretense of being a God.  Ankor insists he is not one of the Old Gods in disguise as we once believed, but there is no doubt that he is not the fancy of our brother's deviant mind.”

“
Yet we also know that there is another person whom Avery has named a Godslayer who he lives in fear of.  Ankor claims to not know who this reborn Godslayer is, just as he insists that Avery could not be the one who slew Imery.  So where does that leave us, if we take Ankor at his word?  If there is a new Godslayer walking the realms, and Ankor is for some reason protecting him--”

“
Please, brother,” interrupted Galentine.  “We have been over this time and again.  There needs to come a point when we move forward, not dwell upon the mysteries we already cannot divine.”

Kelvor chuckled.  “You sound like Corus.”

Galentine blanched at his being compared to the God of Knowledge.  “Please do not draw
that
comparison, or we'll start talking about how mortals call you and Elevan one and the same for the final justice represented by death.”

Kelvor fell silent, the reference sufficient to stay his ridicule.  But after a moment, he asked, “So – do we summon him?  And if we do, how much do we say?”

“We summon him,” Galentine said.  “Again.  And we don't
say
anything.  We ask.  And we keep asking until we find the right question.”

It took only a moment once decided upon for their action to manifest.  Without any pretense or forewarning, Ankor simply appeared before his brethren. 

Immediately, the Prankster emulated a deep and reverent bow.  “And how may I be of humble service to my
greater
brothers?”  There was no mistaking the emphasis placed upon the word 'greater', nor that he really did not mean the words he said.

“
Mockery will not aid us in this, Ankor,” said Galentine.  “And you know we must speak frequently if we are to be kept abreast of your progress.”

“
Well, I wouldn't be so quick to call it
progress
,” quipped the Lesser God.  “But I see great advancement in our cause very soon.”

“
How so?”

“
My faithful continues to watch Avery, the wannabe God,” supplied Ankor.  “They move with a specific destination, and I have reason to believe that if we wait patiently, he will draw the Godslayer to him there.  Then we will be able to confront the person who killed Imery.”

“
That is significant, if it's true,” said Kelvor.

Ankor cocked his head, a mocking smile splayed across his face.  “You would doubt me?  With so much riding on this?”

“Considering who you are, and what you
are
,” responded Kelvor, “yes.”

Ankor grabbed at his chest dramatically.  “You wound me, brother.  And I have been trying
so
very hard to be a good God, only speaking truth as my future station would require.”

“
Truth does not include only what is said,” provided Galentine.  “It also includes that which is
not
said.”

“
Oh, I see,” mused Ankor.  “You think I'm keeping secrets.”

“
Aren't you?” demanded Kelvor and Galentine in unison.

The Prankster laughed.  “No more than you are.  I may aspire to be the new God of Truth, but I must continue to honor my present station, as well.  But I assure you, I truly
am
doing very little in this exchange to misdirect anyone.  And none of it is directed your way, for once.”

“
Then tell us where we can find Avery so we can deal with this upstart ourselves,” demanded Kelvor.

“
So what?  You can go barreling in and kill him for his blasphemy?  Then how would we find the Godslayer?”

Ankor bowed his head, shaking it from side to side.  “You say you know me, but don't forget I also know you, Kelvor.  Galentine might keep his word about waiting, but you will feel compelled to charge in and force Avery to reveal what he knows, and that would be
disastrous
towards our need for information.  I assure you, I only keep this information from you for the benefit of us all.”

“
He does have a point,” said Galentine.  “As reluctant as I am to admit it, you are somewhat impulsive in your pursuit of justice.”

If possible, Kelvor's helmed visage appeared to become even more rigid.  “Justice does not compromise,” he responded.

“Precisely,” said Ankor.  “I can't tell you where Avery is, or where he is going.  My nature is to manipulate and deceive for mischief.  You need to learn to trust me with what I do well. 
Very
well.  And you need to trust that when the time is right, I will tell you precisely where to go to exact your revenge.”

“
And yet you are able to keep critical information from us, and we have no way of knowing whether you are actually
doing
anything, at all,” amended Kelvor.  “You say you trust Galentine?  Then at the very least, share your knowledge with him so at least one of us can verify it.”

“
No, I said I could trust Galentine not to act on the information, but I never said he could be trusted
with
it,” said the Prankster, smirking.  “The moment I tell him where Avery is, his honor would demand he share the information with you and we would be right back to the risk of upsetting my scheme all over again.”

Galentine closed his eyes and sighed.  “Agreed.  We took oath to work together and share all we learned, Kelvor.  I
would
be honor bound to share the information.”

“
So what, do we need to bring in
another
God to act as go between here?”  Kelvor exclaimed, his  temper flaring.  “You manipulate, as you say, but you
are
manipulating us, no matter what else you say!”

Galentine placed his hand upon Kelvor's arm.  “Be calm, Kelvor, or you will undo all we have managed to accomplish so far.”

Kelvor thrust his arm free.  “My patience grows thin, and you wish me to be calm?  He is playing yet another game, and we are his pawns!”

“
It is his nature,” Galentine offered, “but he is not wrong in what he says.  We all have our natures.  Mine is bound by honor, yours by justice.  Ankor's domain is mischief.  He cannot
not
be what he is, any more than we can be.  But he has been honest with us about it, even his reasons.  Which is far more than I can ever recall from him in the past.”

Kelvor fell silent, the rage radiating off of him dissipating slowly.  “In that, you may be correct.  I likewise can never recall a time when the Prankster bothered to ever
explain
his reasons for manipulation.  Perhaps I
have
been too hasty here.”

“
So, friends now?”  Ankor held up his small finger.  “Pinky pals?”

Kelvor's tense posture reasserted itself.  “I may be willing to acknowledge you have merit in what you choose to keep secret,” he growled.  “But it does not mean I have to abide your disrespect.  Galentine, he's all yours to deal with.”

In an instant, the God of Justice had vanished, leaving his greater and lesser companions behind.

“You realize,” said Galentine, “that you can't continue to disrespect Greater Powers and not someday be held accountable for it?  You will have a day of reckoning sooner or later.”

“
Oh, I know,” said Ankor innocently.  “I'm looking forward to it.”

*     *      *

“We have to stop this,” said Dart for perhaps the hundredth time.  She kept saying it, but with each reiteration, she believed her own conviction less and less.

“
No, we do not,” responded the Witness, repeating himself the same objection he kept saying over and again. 

“
Sooner or later, he's going to choose us for his stupid game, and he only seems to get stronger each time he sacrifices someone to that sword,” argued Dart.  “If he gets more powerful from killing normal people, can you imagine how much stronger he will be if he kills an immortal?”

It had been five days now since the man known as Gravin had sealed away the town of Levitz. In that time, he had terrorized the town, exacting some personal interpretation of vengeance against the residents of the town.