by
Marc H. Wyman & Chris Bogues
XVIII. A Goddess Defeated <=== / ===>
XX. The Cat's Pawn (coming on Friday, August 2 2002)
“At
least the villagers are still there,” Darawk muttered and leaned on the
walking stick he had made, an identical copy of the one the old man was
using.
Alyssa
sat down on a rock. “The dwarves and the harsnetts are gone from the
midrealm, off into the mortal world. Does that make any sense to you,
brother of mine?”
While
Darawk breathed deeply and looked up at the sky, the old man said, “You
have already come up with one explanation, my friends. The worship of
specific gods. For the dwarves, you considered Decirius and Taurkémad. Is
there a god especially fond of the harsnetts?”
“Shenaumac,”
Darawk shrugged. “He is the God of Sharpened Things in our abode, and
– please don’t ask why he chose that. Shenaumac doesn’t have much
power, so he had to settle for that. He’s making the best of it, I
suppose. He gave the harsnetts their claws – sharpened things, you know?
– so that they could hunt.”
“He
likes hunting,” Alyssa muttered.
The
God of Knowledge nodded. “He’s good at hunting so I’m not surprised
he likes it, dear sister. The question is who let the harsnetts go to the
mortal world? Our little godling couldn’t protect them down there, after
all.”
“No,”
Alyssa agreed with a smile.
The
old man was watching them with interest, enjoying the exchange of ideas.
Yet there was a different noise that suddenly caught his attention, a
noise much like the wind, but heavier. Much heavier.
“Besides,”
the goddess said, “Shenaumac never gets along with anyone. Least of all
Decirius.”
The
noise grew louder. The old man swiveled his head about, studying the sky.
Darawk
said, “Most of the time, you’re right. But Decirius also cares about
the harsnetts. They pray to him first of all, then the chief gods of a few
other abodes, and only afterwards to Shenaumac.” He frowned. “Isn’t
it interesting how Decirius managed to edge out other chief gods?”
There
was a dark speck in the sky. The old man focused his eyes on it,
sharpening his vision. Wings. Wide wings, gently flapping. It wasn’t a
bird, it was something else. A memory surged in his mind.
“Our
abode has taken the most interest in sapients,” Alyssa noted. “The
others care more about animals and plants, or about the shapes of rocks
and rivers.”
The
frown on Darawk’s forehead deepened. He opened his mouth to answer, but
the old man interrupted him, “I think it might be prudent to take
cover.”
“Excuse
me?” Darawk blinked.
The
old man pointed at the sky. Sharpened vision was no longer necessary to
see the wings coursing the sky, a large, golden body between them,
stretching into a thin tail on the one end, and a massive head on the
other. Dark red eyes glistened in the skull, angrily directed at the three
gods on the ground.
“Lógrims?”
Alyssa raised her eyebrows. “Old man, he’s a god of dragons. I don’t
think he cares much about sapients, nor that we have run from our own
abode.”
“Unless,”
Darawk said, “you have a history with him, my friend.”
The
old man shook his head and started walking away from the approaching
dragon god. “That history doesn’t concern the present. But I know Lógrims
as well as his temper. We should –“
Their
conversation had eaten up precious time, enough to let the dragon come
into range. Lógrims opened his jaws, launching a wide stream of fire
towards the ground.
The
manlings hadn’t been of any help to Caltraya. They hadn’t spoken to
the gods recently, either, but they weren’t worried one bit. “Well,”
one of them had told her, “you can’t speak to everyone at the same
time. It would be nice, I’m sure. Goodness, I’d love that! That would
be fun! On the other hand, it’s also fun if you speak to only one person
at a time, at least sometimes, so the gods probably do that, and therefore
–“ Caltraya had stopped listening at that point, while the manling
droned on and on. Around him, everybody else was talking as well, as if
they never stopped.
Which
probably was true.
Caltraya
hadn’t enjoyed their company very much. She needed time to think. Time
and thinking both were commodities that the manlings didn’t put any
stock in, obviously. So she had resumed her walking, this time without any
goal in mind.
Returning
to her village still seemed a bad idea. Her faith hadn’t been restored.
Quite the contrary. She was starting to worry about the gods! About
the good lady Alyssa in particular. Could it be that Decirius had meant
her harm?
Why
should she worry? The gods were gods, after all! They were eternal!
Caltraya
was walking along the edge of a forest, several miles away from the
burrows of the manlings. Birds were singing. A few were flying overhead,
quickly darting between the trees, occasionally scooting out over the
meadows stretching onward from the forest.
A
loud noise intruded on her ponderings.
It
came from across the next hill, she realized. She turned her head – and
felt her heart skip a beat. A dragon coursed in the sky, sending its fiery
breath towards the ground. A dragon!
She
had been fried by a dragon a long time ago, feeling the fiery breath tear
her apart. For almost a week she had been gone, her mind drifting in
nothingness, only feeling the pain. Then she had reappeared, hale and
sound, to walk back to the village. But she remembered the pain.
She
ought to get away from the dragon. It was so close, lumbering over the
meadows, blocking out the sun with its giant body. The forest… She had
to get to the forest.
Then
lightning flashed up from the ground, beyond the next hill, streaking
towards the dragon, impacting on its wing. The dragon screamed, sending
another wave of flame down.
Where
had the lightning come from? And how had it been caused?
Curiosity
fought with fear in her heart. She pounded her fists against her legs,
yearning to run away. But she couldn’t. Lightning meant gods. Gods like
the good lady.
She
had to find out if the gods were still there!
“Why
are you attacking us?!” Darawk screamed, running across the field of
grass.
Lógrims
didn’t bother with answering. Unless the flames jetting down counted.
Darawk
was hurting from one that had seared his leg. He had reset the limb so he
could run again, but the pain persisted. It took so much strength to keep
the leg from limping! A scholarly god shouldn’t have to worry about
anything like that.
“Run
faster, brother!” Alyssa yelled, firing lightning from two arms she had
grown in her back.
The
old man barely matched their pace. He was breathing hard, as if he were
truly old.
Darawk
wished that he could have just whisked the three of them away, to the
mortal world perhaps. Lógrims might not be able to follow them. Empty
wishes! The god of dragons was keeping them in this place, by a
powerful field surrounding them.
The
three gods were no match for him, Darawk knew. Lógrims ruled an abode of
one deity alone, himself. He had all the power of his small abode,
didn’t share it with any other god. And that power was now turned on
them.
“We
didn’t do anything to you!” he yelled.
Lógrims
belched a ball of fire straight at the God of Knowledge. Darawk dived
aside, rolling over the meadows. He lost his bearings for a moment,
scrambled to his feet, looking first for the god of dragons, then his
companions. The first look was sufficient to make him leap aside again,
since Lógrims was streaking towards him. “Your creatures infest the
mortal world!” the dragon’s booming voice rushed over the meadows as
if it were a gust of stormwind. “You will pay for that!”
Darawk
fought against the wind, but he was buffeted back, landing on his back.
The dragon came closer, ready to fire another jet of flame.
Darawk
raised his hands, sent off lightning. Its energy dissipated on Lógrims’
snout, making the god of dragons laugh. “You will pay!”
Caltraya
sank to her knees in sudden fright when she had crested the hill. At first
she had taken the three people in the meadow beyond for villagers like
herself. Then she had seen how one of them fired lightning at the dragon,
and she realized that they were gods.
Gods.
Fighting for their lives.
The
next instant she had recognized the woman among them as the good lady
Alyssa. Her precious Alyssa. Caltraya gaped at the scene. One of the gods
was separated from the others, stumbling down a hillside. The dragon flew
towards him, ready to destroy him.
She
saw Alyssa stop her flight and turn around. The separated god must be very
important to her, Caltraya thought. Alyssa sent lightning at the dragon.
She only succeeded in drawing its attention.
Caltraya
clasped her hand around her throat when she saw the large dragon swoop
over to point its snout at Alyssa. The flames were ready to come.
“No!”
Caltraya screamed, then bowed her head, unable to watch anymore, and she
prayed for her good lady with all her might.
Alyssa
didn’t think when she saw her brother attacked by Lógrims. Darawk was
already injured, he couldn’t outrun the dragon god. She raised her arms,
sparked off lightning, and screamed, “Over here, you coward! Take on
someone who can still fight!”
“Foolish
goddess!” Lógrims snarled. “Infestor! Violator! You will pay!”
Her
lightning hadn’t damaged him at all. The first volleys she’d scored on
him had at least torn gashes into his wings, but now Alyssa’s strength
was starting to wane. Run, Darawk! she thought, hoping that her
brother would come to his senses and get some distance between the dragon
and himself.
She
fired another bolt of lightning. Lógrims trembled under the impact,
shaking his head wildly. Surprised that there is something left in me,
she groaned. The bolt couldn’t have hurt him.
Alyssa
stood her ground, her arms raised for a last shot, while she prepared for
the dragon god’s fire. Maybe she could withstand the jet for a while.
Long enough that Darawk could escape. A lone goddess against Lógrims.
Brother, you ought to write a nice book about this.
The
flames came.
Fiery
red engulfed her, seared the clothes off her body, tore at her skin,
flames dancing on her hair.
And
that was it.
Alyssa
blinked incredulously. Her gaze shot down, looking at the fire around her
naked body. The fire hurt, but it didn’t injure her. She felt strong,
stronger than she had moments before. Power was running into her, power
enough to…
She
launched a bolt of lightning. It burned through the sky, towards Lógrims’
left wing – and it blew straight through the wing. The dragon howled,
dropped dozens of yards, cradling its wing to its body. Then it stretched
the wing again, strained to flap it in the air, keep itself afloat.
The
goddess wasted no time wondering about this miracle. There was more power
inside her, and she put it to good use. A second bolt of lightning crashed
through Lógrims’ right wing, at the shoulder, tearing off muscles and
blood.
Lógrims
howled and howled and howled.
He
fell from the sky, but before hitting the ground, the god of dragons
vanished, beaten.
“You…”
the old man panted, next to Alyssa. “You are… surprisingly
powerful!”
Instead
of answering she looked across the meadow to where her brother had been.
Darawk hadn’t run, the fool. Instead he had been crouching on the grass,
his hands raised for firing bolts of his own, as meaningless as they were.
“Idiot,” she muttered affectionately. “As if you could have saved
me.”
She
waved towards him. “Come on over here, brother. It’s over!”
On
the meadow, Darawk slowly got to his feet, shook his head – then
appeared next to her. “I cannot believe that you bested Lógrims,
sister, although I’m not complaining.”
“Sure
you’re not,” Alyssa grinned. They embraced, pressed tightly against
each other.
After
a while the old man coughed politely, and the two distentangled
themselves. “We are not alone,” he said and nodded to a hill several
hundred yards away from them.
A
woman was kneeling there, a villager, her head bowed forward, her body
swaying slightly in prayer.
Alyssa
breathed deeply. “Callie.”
“You
know her?” Darawk asked.
She
nodded, then said gently, “She saved us, brother. Her prayer fueled
me.”
Darawk
gaped at her. She understood his confusion, felt it herself. One
villager’s prayer, dedicated to only one god rather than the entire
abode, had strengthened her enough to stand up to Lógrims.
How
much power could the prayer of an entire race bring? One that was growing
in the mortal world and that dedicated itself to only one god, like
Decirius?
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