by
Marc H. Wyman & Chris Bogues
Alyssa
was pacing up and down the granite top of the stairs, her steps falling
hard and fast. She was still wearing the villager’s clothes she had two
days ago, Lonapal noted with concern when he walked up the slightly rising
ramp to the oval plaza, adorned with statues of all the gods, arrayed in a
star formation.
The
old man was sitting at the foot of the granite stairs, absentmindedly
tapping his walking stock in rhythm with Alyssa’s footsteps. The
building behind both of them was a meeting place the gods had favored a
few millenia ago, with benches to lie on and consume some delicacies from
the mortal world while talking, and listening to Taurkémad or Decirius
singing. Lonapal remembered that he had always been amazed at Decirius’
love for song, particularly the cheerful, jaunty ones.
Over
time, though, they had drifted to other places, like Mannannan’s
miniature ocean or Haguen’s watchhouse. Lonapal wasn’t sure when he
had been on this oval plaza the last time. It must have been a very long
time ago.
Yet
the sight seemed very familiar. Seven of the benches had been moved onto
the plaza, along with some of the tables. Two paintings hung in midair,
their colorful displays a strangely comforting sight to Lonapal’s eyes.
On one of the benches, Mannannan sat, wearing a skintight blue suit that
perfectly blended into his elven-style blue skin. He watched his own
statue, showing him holding a pool of water in his hand, and right now,
the stone had turned to real water, churning and turning inside the
statue’s hands. Apparently absorbed by this sight, he paid no attention
to Haguen sitting on the next bench, before a table laden with fruit from
the mortal world. Haguen’s cuirass was on the ground, while its owner
heartily bit into a slice of melon.
Very
familiar, and Lonapal would have gladly joined Haguen in his feast. There
were a few faces missing, most conspicuously that of Decirius. He was
quite happy that Koultirsp was nowhere in sight – she most certainly had
not forgotten her anger at him because of the midrealm villagers.
Darawk’s absence was unsurprising; he probably had found some trivial
detail that he needed to investigate thoroughly. But where was Shenaumac?
He used to be always close whenever the other gods gathered, trying to
join in the conversation every now and then – even though his remarks
usually didn’t warrant any attention, of course. That he was not here,
in this strange circumstance, was troubling to Lonapal.
So
was the fact that neither Taurkémad nor Maidoyú were in the plaza,
either. When he had sensed this gathering, he had hoped that Taurkémad
would be here, to grace them with a song or two.
“Hello,
Lonapal,” Haguen greeted him with a wave of his hand – holding the
green shell of his melon.
Lonapal
smiled and shook his head at the sorry sight. “Haguen,” he
acknowledged him and strolled towards one of the free benches. “Can you
spare any of those fruits?”
“Why,
certainly,” the guardian god nodded and moved half the contents of his
table to one close to Lonapal. The God of Light gladly pulled the table to
him and looked it over for a fruit that particular appealed to his fancy.
Before
he could finish taking stock, Alyssa’s voice bit through the air,
“There you are, Lonapal! Where have you been the past two days? Moping,
or what?”
“I
beg your pardon?” Lonapal looked up and found that Alyssa was suddenly
standing before him, glaring angrily at him.
“Save
the begging for another time,” Alyssa rolled her eyes. “Now explain
yourself. Please.” The last word was an afterthought, obviously.
Well,
Lonapal appreciated that she thought of that word at all, and shrugged.
“I have been thinking. With all that has happened, I felt it was
necessary. Did I miss something?”
Alyssa
opened her mouth to say something scathing and furious, but Haguen
interjected, “Maidoyú and Taurkémad have escaped. Decirius thinks
they’re in the mortal world.”
Lonapal
stared at the guardian god – and suddenly realized that he didn’t look
happy at all. He had only seemed so at first sight, digging into his food
as he was. Yet now Lonapal noticed the creases of worry in his face, that
his eyes were drooping. “If that is the case,” the God of Light asked
slowly, “why are you here? Has Decirius not ordered you to fetch the two
of them, as you have brought Alyssa and me back to the Eternal City.”
“Exactly!”
Alyssa said and pointed over her shoulder to the central statue of
Decirius. “He’s charged Shenaumac with that task. Shenaumac! The
little twerp is the only one who has been allowed to leave the
Eternal City. Poor Haguen had to open a gateway for Shenaumac to pass
through, and then close it, rather than go himself.”
“It
was Decirius’ choice, and it is my duty to obey,” Haguen said in a low
voice.
“It
is your duty,” Alyssa said forcefully, “to guard the gate and
our city. Including its inhabitants. Decirius is ignoring that duty!”
Haguen
shrugged. Lonapal could tell that the shrug did not come easily. “He is
our lord, and the lord’s will be done. It does not become me to question
his decisions.”
“Well,
I for one find it very becoming,” Alyssa hissed. “You could do with
some backbone, Haguen. You should be the one asking why the gate is
locked. Why you are sitting here and stuffing your stomach full of fruit
instead of standing at the gate – or looking for our fellow
goddesses.” She whirled about, darted a glance at Mannannan who twitched
his pointy ears slightly. At the stairs, the old man slowly got to his
feet, leaning on his stick and watching the discourse with great interest.
“We have to do something!” Alyssa shouted. “Are we gods or are we
creatures of the midrealm?! We have a will of our own, and mine tells me
that I want to leave this town.”
Haguen
reached out for an apple – and froze in astonishment when Alyssa slapped
the apple away from him. “Stop that! You can eat later on, all right?
It’s not like you need to eat.”
“No,”
Haguen said and rose from the bench, towering over the smaller goddess,
“I do not have to. But I want to. Are you trying to curtail my
freedom of will?”
If
he had thought to intimidate her, he failed miserably. Instants later,
Alyssa grew to twice the guardian god’s size, folded her arms before her
chest and said in a booming voice, “If I am, it is only for your best.
Don’t try to use my own words against me. Now sit back down, and let’s
talk about what –“
“No.”
Haguen quickly matched Alyssa’s size, so he could look her straight in
the eyes. Below them, Lonapal moved the tables and benches aside with
Mannannan’s help. If they were to continue to grow, they might wind up
breaking something. Lonapal shared a quick glance with the God of the Sea,
but Mannannan only raised his arms and rolled his eyes.
Moments
later their fears proved right, when both Alyssa and Haguen doubled their
size again, this time enough that their legs threatened to smash two of
the statues. What were they trying to achieve? Lonapal wondered and
listened in amazement to the next exchange of angry words that kept
revolving about Alyssa’s need to do something and Haguen’s desire to
eat.
So
meaningless! So ridiculous!
Near
the stairs, the old man was watching silently, his face a still mask.
Lonapal had heard about him, of course, only a short while after the
stranger had arrived at the Eternal City, but he hadn’t spoken to him.
Right now, he felt embarrassed that this man was witnessing this spat
between Haguen and Alyssa. No foreign god should ever see this!
Not
to mention that Lonapal himself didn’t want to see this.
Before
the two gods could grow again, he put a cheerful face on and shouted,
“How about a game, everyone? Let us play charades!”
“What?!”
both Alyssa and Haguen boomed down from their enormous height. Alyssa
alone continued, “That isn’t going to solve anything!”
Haguen
asked distractedly, “And what are charades?”
Lonapal
smiled at Alyssa who didn’t look too knowledgeable either. “It is a
game that the villagers of the midrealm enjoy. One person makes gestures
that indicate parts of words, and the others have to guess which is the
true meaning of each of the gestures and the complete word or phrase. The
villagers are quite apt at this, and they often play it in the evening,
before darktime.”
Alyssa
shook her head, slowly shrinking to her normal size. “You mean
Callie’s people?
“That
is true,” Lonapal nodded eagerly. Yes! She was forgetting about her
anger! Joy shot through him, anticipating that they all would be smiling
in a few moments, laughing at the antics of one of them trying to gesture
some obscure word. Just like the villagers! “The game will be fun,” he
assured her, also looking around at the others.
“A
game,” Alyssa echoed, her lips drawn tight. “Lonapal, I’m not in the
mood for games.”
“How
uncommon,” Haguen guffawed, still at his enormous size.
The
goddess craned her head back to look up at the guardian god, clearly
unimpressed. “Once you quit playing, I might talk to you again. Hope for
that moment, Haguen. And there’s my statue. Pray to it, that might help.
Old man,” Alyssa fired a glance over towards the stairs, “accompany
me, please. I want to go look for my brother. He’s liable to be better
company than any of you.”
With
that she strolled off, not looking around to see if the old man followed
her.
Slowly,
shaking his head, the stranger did just that, leaning heavily on his
walking stick with every step.
The
remaining three gods watched them leave. Mannannan patted Haguen’s calf,
currently as tall as the entire God of the Sea. “Do charades sound fine
to you, my overgrown friend? At this size, you could eat fruit trees and
not be sated, after all.”
Lonapal’s
heart sank. Mannannan only wanted to lighten the situation, he was sure,
but Lonapal also had a better view of the guardian god’s face. “I have
to inspect the walls,” Haguen said, already stalking off – in the
opposite direction of Alyssa. He didn’t bother to reduce his height, not
even when he realized that the road he wanted to take did not fit his
broad shoulders. Regardless he walked on, tearing deep gashes into the
stone walls and raining debris onto the ground.
Mannannan
frowned and shook his head. “He does not take this well, does he?”
“No,
he does not,” Lonapal agreed. He made a gesture with his hand, sweeping
the debris up and merging it back into the buildings. “It has only been
two days. What will this city look like after the sixty that Decirius has
decreed?”
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