The Panagea Tales Box Set

by McKenzie Austin

  A flash of brown. A strange texture. Fur? She had only ever seen it on Granite’s dog, the beast. But this animal made the canine seem like a dwarf. It was enormous.

  Its snout raised as it sniffed at the air. Flecks of liquid flew from its nostrils as it exhaled. It looked as though if it stood on its hind legs, it would look down even at Itreus. Avigail froze. The animal did not seem to acknowledge her, though if she took several paces and leaned forward far enough, she was certain she could have touched it. For its size, it moved silently, at home amongst the trees and shrubs.

  Gods may have had no power to physically harm her ... but Avigail felt certain woodland creatures could.

  “Itreus—” she whispered, a tightness in her throat.

  The god turned, his eyes falling on the animal. With a softened gaze, he reached out his hand. The creature sniffed in his direction, its black, beady eyes darting around as it took a step closer to the pair.

  Avigail felt her shoulders tense. Was he really encouraging it to approach them? Had he lost his mind? Could animals hurt gods? Perhaps he had nothing to lose.

  “It’s all right,” Itreus said, reaching out to stroke the bear as soon as its massive nose poked his outstretched hand. “He is no threat to us.”

  Avigail could not convince her body to move. Even Itreus’ reassurance did not ease her. It was with some luck the beast did not even acknowledge her, too consumed with the task of curiously investigating Itreus’ hand. “Judging by the size of his teeth,” Avigail murmured, finally convincing herself to speak, “I’d say you’re wrong.”

  The god blinked, leaning forward to closer inspect the animal’s muzzle. Two of the teeth on the upper jaw could be seen, poking out and hanging just over the lower jaw. “A terrible overbite,” Itreus muttered, gently running his hand over the animal’s head. “Such is life.”

  The Houton daughter cleared her throat, keeping a watchful eye on the creature as she took several steps back. It was strange watching Itreus interact with the animal. He was quite gentle. After a short inspection, the beast snorted and turned out of Itreus’ touch, its shoulders lumbering forward as it walked away, into the stomach of the forest.

  “Are all gods that good with animals?” Avigail let out a sigh of relief when the bear ambled behind some tree trunks, and out of her sight.

  “No,” Itreus answered immediately, striding onward as if nothing had happened. “If by ‘good’, you mean kind, no, not all. If they were, they would not have slaughtered millions of men. Some are ... ‘good’,” he shrugged, “and some are not.”

  Avigail tried to breathe deep, but her inhalation left something to be desired. She knew the answer before he replied. She had hoped, however, that it would have brought a small bit of encouragement with it. Alas, it only served to remind her that ‘bad’ gods still filtered through Northwestern. Bad gods that could have easily run across the path of Revi Houton.

  “Are you absolutely sure Revi is here?” Avigail asked, wondering if it made more sense that he would have left. It was a dangerous place, after all. He very well may have abandoned his mission with Kazuaki. Avigail frowned. If Revi excelled at anything, it was abandonment. “After everything that’s happened, with the gods taking over here ...”

  “Your eagerness to find him grows,” Itreus observed, cutting into her sentence with a gentle force. “Is there something you wish to say to him?”

  For whatever reason, the question gutted her. Avigail scoffed, flooded with the memory of Revi deserting her. Her brothers. Her sisters. Her mother. Leaving them with nothing more than a wardrobe fit for a missing man and enough tears to fill an ocean. “No,” she snapped. “I just ...” Her words fell away, fading into dust. “I don’t know.”

  “If you don’t know,” Itreus asked, “then why do you look?”

  “I just don’t know, okay?” The sentence flew from her throat like a dagger, sticking into Itreus’ chest. When she realized the anger in which it soared from her, Avigail withdrew. Her throat cleared. Her shoulders dropped. She told Itreus the tale of Revi Houton soon after she had met him. The God of the Lost knew of the barbs in their relationship. Perhaps that was what irked her most about his inquiry. “I ... guess I just want to know that he’s still alive. That doesn’t mean I excuse him for what he did. Who the hell leaves their family behind?”

  Itreus continued walking, his tone attentive. “Many people.”

  Avigail scowled at his answer. Though Itreus wasn’t the source of her resentment, she shunned him, taking an unconscious step away. “Well, that doesn’t make it right ...”

  “Right and wrong,” Itreus mused, a pensive air about him. He glanced down at Avigail and stopped walking. “They are complicated concepts for humans, aren’t they?”

  A disdainful huff fell out of her empty chest. Avigail avoided his eyes as she stopped beside him. “They shouldn’t be.”

  Itreus mulled over her answer. The silence extended as he chewed on her words, to the point Avigail wondered what he was thinking. After some time, the god took on a mysterious smile. “Come. We must continue.”

  Avigail watched as he persisted on his path. She ran to catch up with him, tilting her head. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “I’ll know when we get there.”

  Another arched brow highlighted her response to his cryptic reply. For being the God of the Lost, Itreus seemed to have some trouble helping her find what she wanted. Avigail contemplated several times whether his presence was worth the confusion, but when everything boiled down to bare bones, she liked him. He was a gentleman, enigmatic but affable.

  And even if he wasn’t ... it was a dangerous place to tread without him. Slow progress aside, Avigail Houton felt much safer in the company of the God of the Lost.

  Itreus continued to weave through the trees. He moved gracefully, more elegant than any man of his stature Avigail had seen before. Her thoughts drifted then to Nicholai. She thought she felt the warmth of a blush claim her cheeks, but she remained far too lost to infatuation to know for certain. He moved with grace too. At least, she remembered him as moving with such. She wondered if after she found Revi, she might return to Southeastern. She’d grown a lot in the time she spent out here. Maybe she could make a home for herself there and—

  Lost to her daydream, Avigail bumped into Itreus’ back. The god had ceased his walking once more, and Avigail paused after peeling herself off him, embarrassed. “What’s the holdup?” she asked, peering around his body. Movement again, up ahead. “Another animal?”

  The god’s lips tightened as he stared straight ahead. “No ...”

  Itreus felt rigid beside her. She did not know why. Avigail followed his gaze outward, where they landed on a form. A human. He was hard to see from the distance, but she could make out the torso, the shoulders, the head. The lower half remained concealed by tall vegetation, but she was certain of what she saw. “A human!” she gasped, an undeniable excitement filling her.

  The god said nothing, neither confirming nor denying her statement. He only stared at the person for several long seconds before he turned, and walked away.

  “What are you—?” Avigail stood, dumbfounded. She glanced rapidly back and forth between Itreus and the individual, her mouth open. The woman thought she caught the person’s eyes for a moment, but from the distance, it was hard to tell.

  Tearing herself away when Itreus dared to walk out of sight, Avigail bolted after him. “Hey!” She darted up to his side, lightly smacking him in the arm with the back of her hand. “Who was that? Why are we just—”

  “He is no one you need to concern yourself with,” Itreus answered, stoic as he continued to pave the way. “Pay him no mind.”

  “He looked a little lost, didn’t he?” Avigail looked over her shoulder to see if she could still spy the young man, but she had wandered too far to locate him. “Don’t you think we should—”

  “I think we should keep walking,” Itreus interrupted. “He is ...” The god’s wo
rds fell off the face of the world, disappearing into a hesitation that Avigail never heard in him before. “He is ... no threat.”

  Words that were meant to bring comfort brought little. Avigail narrowed her eyes, searching the landscape for the individual once more before she decided the shadows had won. Her gaze shifted to her traveling companion as he waltzed farther into the woodlands. Avigail narrowed her eyes.

  She thought she came to know him well enough to put her primary task into his hands. Avigail convinced her legs to continue following, knowing she had little other choices. Her pursuit was not without question. At that moment, she realized there was far more than she originally thought to the God of the Lost.

  Chapter Eight

  Waiting was the hardest part.

  Game would wander by soon enough. Revi had spent enough time in Northwestern to know. All it took to secure a good meal was a lot of patience and even more luck.

  The man tried to kill time by looking beyond the treetops he had scaled in the Northwestern forest, but the damned things blocked his sight for miles. He couldn’t even begin to guess what town he was in. Borders separating pre-existing townships were eaten alive by woodlands. Villages didn’t even remain in Northwestern anymore. Not that he’d seen in his last year of searching.

  The steam car gifted to him by Everly and Thom fell to the wayside ten months ago. Just as well. It would not have survived in this terrain. Roads were long since abolished. Smoothed cobblestone became rolling hills. Dips and valleys painted his former metal world with colors he’d only seen glimpses of in the past, on Umbriel’s island.

  The rate at which nature claimed this place stunned him. It was with some relief that he’d experienced it on a smaller scale before, in the company of Nicholai and Umbriel. Were it not for his exposure to wildlife prior, Revi feared seeing things now, as they were, so vastly different from everything he lived with his entire life ... it would have shocked his brain into a vulnerable state.

  That was the last thing he needed here, in the land of free-roaming gods and goddesses.

  Revi lowered his eyes from the horizon and scanned the forest floor below. It was unsuitable for him to set traps for smaller game. He moved far too frequently to be rewarded by anything they could catch. Settling back down onto the limb where he perched, he continued to wait. Continued to think.

  He missed Avigail. Revi fed himself a new slice of denial for each day that passed and he did not find her. Reasons she was capable of surviving here flowed through his skull like a checklist.

  Avigail was strong; her upbringing cemented an iron will in her.

  Avigail was stubborn; she would not yield to death.

  Avigail was intelligent; she knew how to keep herself out of a bad situation.

  Three hundred and some odd days of feeding uplifting thoughts to himself. It was exhausting. But he was not ready to abandon her to oblivion. Not again. Never again.

  Panagea may have resigned itself to its fate. There was little it could do, a pawn for either the gods or the men who roamed atop it. But that was not a defeat he was willing to admit just yet. She could have survived a year. She survived more than that without him. Without anybody, really.

  Avigail’s fate was not the only one that kept him up at night. Revi couldn’t deny wondering how things played out for the captain and the crew. That the gods had claimed all he’d seen so far of Northwestern left a hole in his stomach. He didn’t think the captain would allow the gods to take over an entire division if he could help it.

  The last thing Revi Houton knew, the crew was off to slaughter the gods with the katars Mimir had stolen from the realm in-between. Was the gods’ presence here evidence of their failure?

  No. It couldn’t have been that bad ...

  The captain was immortal, after all.

  And the crew—the crew was almost untouchable. A savage collection of Panagea’s most ruthless humans. Revi nodded, a subconscious action to reassure himself they were fine. There was not much in existence that could spill the blood of those heathens.

  A snapping twig caught his attention. The sound was like a gift to his eardrums. When his eyes refocused onto the forest floor, he saw the tawny furred creature step out from behind a tall tree. Its head rooting through the fallen leaves, kicking them up with its hooves as it approached the collection of berries he had purposefully set out in a pile.

  Revi tightened his muscles. He flipped the dagger around in his palm, his grip on its handle increasing. The man paid keen attention to each breath he took, careful not to let the sound of his breathing startle his potential meal. He needed to wait until it was in just the right place ...

  The deer flicked its ears atop its skull, slowly approaching the trap. One leg after the other, it sauntered with caution. Did it know he was here? Revi tried not to wonder about such things. He was far too hungry to allow himself any excuses for the animal to escape.

  After determining the surrounding area held no threats, the deer neared the berries. Its nostrils exhaled over the collection of berries laid out on the stump. Before it could stick out its tongue to enjoy its unforeseen buffet, Revi leaped from the limb on which he hid.

  He landed on the creature’s back. His legs wrapped skillfully around its bucking body. The dagger found a place in its neck before it even realized what was happening.

  Having struck an artery, the beast fell in seconds. Revi did not wish to torture the animal; he stabbed it once more in the heart as soon as it toppled, to put it out of its misery. The deer collapsed to its side and Revi slid off it, watching, as it took several more breaths, before falling still.

  The man tilted his head, determining how many meals he’d be able to acquire from the creature. It was a shame he had to bring down a beast as large as this one. A majority of the meat would spoil before he got to enjoy it. Having familiarized himself with the dangerous creatures that Northwestern forests harbored now, however ... Revi remained certain that the carcass would not go to complete waste. Some predators would find an easy meal tonight.

  With his dagger in hand, he knelt, salvaging the chunks from the carcass that would fill his stomach. A year granted him the keen ability to break down his meals from an animal’s hide with experience and ease. Loading as much in his traveling pack as he thought he could carry, Revi stood and marched back to the primitive campsite he had constructed yesterday.

  A ring of stones where last night’s fire burned greeted him. Revi had no intention of staying. One day was as long as he ever lingered in any part of Northwestern. Finding Avigail was far too high of a priority to stay stagnant. She could be anywhere. Therefore, he had to be anywhere.

  Stooping down to grab his bow drill and pot, he stuffed both back into his bag. Not wishing to see Northwestern burn with the same fury it did when he arrived with the crew last year, Revi reached into his pocket and withdrew his canteen. A small sense of relief came from dumping some of his water over the ashes of his recently deceased fire.

  It was hard to overcome the mental hurdle that spilling liquid was equitable to suicide. He recalled a time when water rations were strictly enforced. Clean sources were hard to come by, once upon a time.

  Not anymore. The countless rivers splitting through all of Northwestern made sure of that.

  While Revi remained grateful for the fresh water supply, it made it hard to navigate the land. One river looked nearly identical to the next; perceptible landmarks were few and far between. Trees and creeks and fields, with little discernible factors. For all he knew, he could have been walking in circles the entire time he’d been here.

  A low rumble rattled in his throat as he collected the rest of his supplies. Another day of searching awaited him. It could have been a lifetime, for all he knew. He threw the pack over his shoulder and continued walking.

  A lifetime. If that’s what it took, he was ready.

  For the best too. By the time the fresh day came to a close, and countless hours separated him from the deer’s carcass a
nd his last campsite, it felt as though he had already walked a lifetime and then some.

  Revi didn’t trust himself. The new place seemed familiar, but he couldn’t be sure. The landscape of Northwestern had transformed too much since he ventured into it nearly a year ago. A growl of disapproval flung from his throat as he trudged deeper into unknown terrain. Or known terrain he’d simply forgotten. He didn’t know.

  Trees, dead from violent storms past, laid themselves to rest on the forest floor. The decay of old leaves and mushrooms cushioned their fall. Revi climbed over them with little remorse, feeling the soft sinking of moss beneath his boots. He swore he walked this path before when buildings claimed the land instead of trees. But everything looked too different to tell.

  The songs of birds floated on the wind. They touched his ears without ceremony. Revi grew accustomed to the sounds of nature. Small movements of mammals rustling through the forest floor once put him on edge, but time dulled his caution. The gift of the landscape’s beauty passed him by entirely now.

  A fresh sound made his eardrums beat. A sound he had not heard in a long, long time. Revi doubted his sanity for a moment. It sounded human, but it couldn’t be. He had not discovered anything beyond primitive cemeteries since the gods reconstructed the whole of Northwestern.

  When the first voice he had heard was followed by a second, and a third, his doubt began to fade.

  “People,” he muttered to himself, to be sure his vocal cords still worked after months of little use.

  The Houton man slogged forward, fearing no repercussions. It had been a long time since he laid eyes on another human being. He’d catch shadows now and then of what he had guessed were gods and goddesses, watching him as he dove farther into Northwestern, but those paranoid thoughts were never verified.