The Last Goddess

by C.E. Stalbaum

  ***

   

  Thirty minutes and probably a hundred questions later, everything had been laid bare. But even after hearing it all again, Rook wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  “I was having a dream where I was running alongside a herd of gorm while fighting off some type of six-armed monsters, and it made more screlling sense than any of this,” Van growled once the explanation was over. “Lurien was not the Kirshal, I’m sorry. Tell me you don’t believe that, Nate.”

  Rook rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what to think.”

  “Well, then I’ll tell you. This is crazy. That’s what this is.”

  “You’re not helping,” Rynne murmured. She put her hand over Rook’s on the table and gently squeezed.

  Van shot her a cold glare before scowling at the others in turn. “Someone please say I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

  “I said I don’t know,” Rook told him, taking a deep breath and trying to regain his sanity. He always liked to think of himself as quick-witted, able to adapt to anything life threw at him. But right now he felt about as dull as the stone floor beneath his feet. The last ten years of his life kept flashing before him in a dizzying blur, and he couldn’t seem to think straight.

  Van sighed and finally sat down. They were all cramped in chairs around a table in the dimly lit library, with Bale leaning against the bookcase opposite them. Tiel paced back and forth to his right, while Selaste stood in the back, arms crossed as usual.

  “Look, just think about it for a minute,” Van said. “Think about Lurien. She was a priestess from a backwater village on the Vakari border. She was kind, smart…gods, Nate, I loved her too, but she was not the Messiah.”

  “She saved my life,” Rook whispered. In five years he had never even told his best friend what had happened. He had tried so hard to forget it that it had almost worked. The only time he’d ever broken his silence was with Selaste back in the Banick Wood, and he still wasn’t sure what had made him open up then.

  Van frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “At Turesk. I should have died, but I didn’t. When they breached the eastern wall, I was thrown backwards and wound up impaled on a spear.”

  The other man shook his head slowly. “You walked out of there with barely a scratch. I remember asking you about it—we couldn’t believe it. Your armor had been…”

  Rook glanced up to his old friend and saw the recognition flicker across his face. “She came to me during the fight and saved me. I don’t know how or why, exactly, but suddenly she was dead and my wounds were healed.”

  Van glanced away, mouth open as he tried to work through it. Rynne squeezed Rook’s hand harder, and he clenched every muscle in his body to steel himself against the pain. Then he buried the memory back into the recesses of his mind where it belonged. 

  “I never told you,” he said softly. “I never told anyone.”

  Bale nodded and stood upright. “And now you carry her power.”

  “I’m still not sure why you believe that or how you think you can get it out of me,” Rook said. “All I know is that I should be dead instead of her, and you’re the first person who might be able to tell me the reason why.”

  “That is the essence of the Kirshal: the power of life and death.”

  Van grunted and shook his head again. “No way. It had to be a magic trick she learned at the temple, a spell or ritual or something. If you were half dead, you probably hallucinated the whole thing.”

  “A man who does not want to believe will always find an excuse to shield his eyes from the truth,” Bale murmured.

  “As opposed to the one so desperate for answers he’ll believe anything?” Van countered. “You’re after something, old man, and it was a mistake for us to come here.”

  Rynne sighed. “Van—”

  “No,” he snarled, standing up from the chair. “I can’t believe you’re going to sit here and listen to this kreel spin his lies and manipulate you right after he tried to lock us in our rooms and do gods’ know what to Rook and Selaste. We should get out of here while we still can.”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Rook told him. “Not until we have some answers.”

  “All you’re going to find here are lies. And I’m not going to listen to them anymore.” He stomped over to the library entrance before glancing back over his shoulder. “Get me when you finally come to your senses.”

  Rook sighed heavily and ran a hand through his beard. Rynne just stared blankly at the spot Van had left.

  “He’s one of the faithless,” Bale dismissed. “I wouldn’t expect him to understand.”

  “Except he’s right,” Rook said stiffly. “At least partially. You haven’t given us any reason to trust you, and you haven’t offered anything in the way of actual proof. I’m going to need something a lot more indisputable before we agree to anything.”

  Tiel turned to face his mentor. “I’ve given you the Osahn Scriptures. You said they would have the information you needed.”

  Bale nodded slowly. “They do, but it has been many years since I have been able to study them. It will take some time.”

  “Then you better get started,” Rook said. “And from now on, no more surprises, no more secrets. If you or any of your people try anything, then you’re going to lose your only chance at getting what you want.”

   “You’re right, of course,” the old man conceded. “I acted…hastily. But you must recognize we’re talking about the future of Esharia here. If we can harness the Kirshal’s power, imagine the good we could do with it.”

  “That’s a big if.” He turned to Selaste. “Why don’t you try earning some trust by helping her first?”

  The old man gazed at her warily. “What I said before was true. Whether I can help or not depends upon the nature of the spell used against you. But I am willing to try, if you’ll let me.”

  “First I want to know how you stopped me earlier,” she said. “You say I’m this big, bad Defiler, someone to be feared—and then you turned it off just like that.”

  “You can’t seriously expect me to tell you that.”

  “I don’t need the detailed description. I just want the basics.”

  He sighed. “Your power comes from others. It’s possible to…neutralize that connection, albeit briefly. It won’t stop you from drawing upon yourself and confronting the Flensing naturally.”

  “Seems like quite the weapon of your own,” she commented. “If you can stop Defilers, then why do they scare you so much?”

  “The servants of Edeh are not powerless to protect her gifts,” Bale replied tartly. “That doesn’t make this sacrilege any less dangerous. One Defiler can be stopped, but a dozen? An army? An entire nation?”

  “Yeah, I get it,” Selaste grunted.

  He glanced to the others, then back to her. “I can attempt to repair your memory now, if you wish. It shouldn’t take long either way.”

  She shrugged. “Why not? I’ve already lost my mind—how much worse can it get?”

  Rook reached out and took her hand. “You don’t have to do this now, you know. You can wait, or we can find someone else. It’s up to you.”

  “I know,” she said. She started to pull away from him but then stopped and squeezed instead. “But if there’s something he can do right now then I’d rather just get it over with.”

  Bale nodded and stepped forward. “Just relax and give me a moment.”

  Magic rippled across his fingers as he pressed them against her forehead. His eyes narrowed into slits and rapidly flicked back and forth. He held the pose for several minutes before finally shaking his head and stepping away.

  “I don’t feel anything,” Selaste said. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry I doubted you,” Bale replied hoarsely, pursing his lips. “You really don’t remember.”

  “Yeah, I knew that already. So what’s the problem?”

  He let out a weary sig
h. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. There’s a gaping hole in your mind. It is simply…empty.”

  She swallowed and clenched Rook’s hand so hard it almost hurt. “So what does that mean?”

  “It means there’s nothing to fix,” Bale said. “The memories are gone.”

  “There has to be another way,” Rynne insisted. “There has to be something else we can do.”

  Bale shook his head. “Not all wounds can be healed, I’m afraid. Whoever did this to you was quite meticulous. They didn’t want anyone to know who you really were.”

  “Or be able to find them,” Selaste whispered.

  “We’ll figure out who did this,” Rook told her. “I promise.”

  She nodded vacantly as she slipped her hand from his grip and walked over to lean against the wall. Her entire body was trembling.

  “For what it’s worth,” Bale said, “I’m sorry.”

   “Yes,” Selaste replied darkly. “So am I.”