The Last Goddess

by C.E. Stalbaum

  ***

   

  Tiel and Rynne raced through the monastery’s winding corridors. He half-expected to fight through a dozen of his brothers and sisters to get to Rook and the others, but fortunately the halls were mostly empty. It only took them about a minute to reach their quarters, and nothing seemed to be out of order.

  Rynne leapt over to Rook’s door and knocked. When there was no response, she tried to turn the knob. “Locked. Wait—there isn’t even a keyhole.”

  “It’s a spell,” Tiel said, touching his hand against the door. A spark of magic surged through the knob and then he easily pushed it open. The room was empty.

  “What?” she gasped. “Where in the void—” she stopped herself and frowned. “His clothes aren’t here—he’s still dressed.”

  “All the doors are sealed; he might not have even been here. Let’s check the others.”

  Tiel repeated the spell on the other doors, including Rynne’s. The only one occupied was Van’s, and they had been able to tell that the moment they stepped within thirty feet.

  “One would think an army was snoring in there,” Rynne muttered as Tiel unlocked the door. The big man was lying flopped in the center of the bed, his shirt off but his pants still on. “Van!”

  He grunted and made eye contact with her—and then his head flopped back down. He returned to snoring almost immediately.

  “Shakissa’s mercy,” she breathed before throwing herself on top of him. He finally reacted when she started slapping his chest and grabbed her firmly around the waist.

  “What the—” He blinked and cleared his throat. “Hey, I was just dreaming about you.”

  “I don’t even want to know. Come on, Rook and Selaste might be in trouble.”

  “What? How?” He sprang to his feet and reached for his scabbard on the wall.

  “Two of the Kirshane came by my quarters and tried to subdue us,” Tiel explained. “It looks like they were trying to lock all of you inside your rooms, but you were the only one actually here.”

  “I told Nate we should have set a watch—” Van paused as he fastened the scabbard to his belt. “Wait, shouldn’t you be helping your buddies, then? Why would they attack you?”

  “They’re not my buddies, and we don’t have time to explain. We need to find the others.”

  The bodyguard eyed Tiel up and down once before nodding. “All right. Any guesses?”

  “Rook would try the library,” Rynne said, racing across the hall and grabbing her own weapons. “I assume you have one of those here?”

  Tiel nodded. “This way.”

  Two minutes later, they heard voices as they approached a large, softly-lit chamber. Tiel raised a hand for them to slow. He crept forward and peered around the corner to see Master Bale and a trio of Kirshane standing in front of Rook and Selaste.

  “We still have much to learn from you. The name of your true master, the secret of how you learned this power in the first place…and we will. Whether you choose to cooperate or not.”

  Tiel clenched his jaw and stepped forward into the room. “Jonas.”

  Bale spun around, his face a twisted mix of shock and annoyance. “I thought I told you to remain in your quarters.”

  “You told me a lot of things,” Tiel replied tartly, stepping into the room.  The others swept in behind him. “I decided it wasn’t worth listening anymore.”

  “What do you want, anyway?” Rynne asked sharply, crossbow in hand. “Locking us in our rooms, having your goons threaten us…if you wanted to hurt us then why did you let us in here in the first place?”

  “I have no interest in harming any of you,” Bale said impatiently. “But I cannot stand by and allow the power of the Kirshal to be wasted—and I certainly cannot abide the presence of a Defiler in my monastery.”

  Tiel took another step forward. “I told you they’d be willing to help you if you just explained to them what was going on. They’re reasonable people.” He slowly shook his head. “I should have known you wouldn’t listen. This whole situation is driving you mad.”

  “You’re a child with no concept of what is at stake here,” the old man growled. His entire body trembled, and it looked like he might snap at any moment. “You don’t understand—you can’t understand!”

  “I understand perfectly well,” Tiel replied coolly. “The Kirshal died on your watch. You blame yourself for letting her go, and now you feel like you have a second chance. And maybe you do, I don’t know. But the bottom line is that these people don’t have to be your enemies.” He swallowed heavily and glanced to each of the other monks in the room, men whom he had spent years of his life training with. “I don’t have to be your enemy, either, Jonas. But if you try and hurt them, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

  Bale’s cheeks flushed and his jaw tightened. He was not an evil man—he was, in fact, quite the opposite. But he was also desperate, and he felt as if his back was pressed against a wall. His order was dying, the world around him threatened to break into another war…he had lost what was, in his mind, the only chance he had of restoring Esharia and the gods that watched over it.

  Eventually, the Kirshane Master released a deep breath and he closed his eyes. “Stand down.”

  The monks each looked at him, obvious relief washing over their faces as they dropped their combat stances. Clearly most of them hadn’t wished this to become violent, either. Tiel wondered idly how many of them knew the full extent of what was going on here, or if they were still living a lie as he had been.

  “Thank you,” Tiel whispered.

  Bale shook his head and looked up at the younger man. “I just hope your faith in them isn’t misplaced.”

  “We’re willing to help,” Rook said from the back of the room, his arm wrapped tightly around Selaste. “We both want the same things, more or less. We all want to know who is behind this ruse, and she needs her memories restored. You want this…power taken out of me, and I can’t say I’d have a problem with that, either—assuming it actually exists.”

  “Power?” Van asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “It will take some explaining,” Tiel said. “For now, why don’t we all find somewhere to sit, and we can finally let everyone know what’s really going on. The truth, this time. All of it.”

  Bale’s eyes bored right into him for what seemed like an eternity, but eventually the old man nodded. “So be it.”