by Carol A Park
“Is there a reason you’re not working?” she asked without looking up.
He looked away before she noticed the focus of his eyes. Dare he tell her the truth? “I was thinking about how that’s the first time I’ve seen you really smile,” he responded.
The scratching of her pen stopped, and the pen hovered over the paper momentarily before starting again. “Perhaps you should focus on the task at hand,” she said.
He ignored her. “Is it really so bad? Letting someone see the real you?” He winced before she could even respond. The last time he had said something like that…
She finally looked up at him. “If you’re finished with your work, there are other books to start on.”
Her gaze was icy. Damn. A step too far.
He went back to his work without a word.
Another two days brought actual results.
“Who is Danathalt?” Ivana asked a short time into the morning session.
“Danathalt? What’s the context?”
Ivana scanned over the transliteration Vaughn had provided, and then her translation. “He’s a god, I think.”
Vaughn frowned, sorting through everything they thought they knew about the heretic gods, and then finally shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that one.”
“Don’t you know all of them?”
“Not a chance. So far we’ve found references to over two dozen gods in the pantheon and another half dozen that might be gods, but then again, might be some sort of other supernatural creature or being. We don’t know all of their names, and not all of them appear to be associated with Banebringers.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “How do you know your particular connections to the gods, then?”
“We guess. I’m one of the lucky ones, if you want to count knowing the name of the god who cursed me as lucky. We have an almost complete myth about Thaxchatichan, the goddess of the moon.”
She had stopped writing and looked cautiously intrigued. “What’s the story?”
Vaughn wrinkled his nose. “Uh, I don’t know, something about how she murdered her brother’s wife, and, outraged, her brother chopped off her head and threw it into the sky, where it became the moon.”
Ivana raised an eyebrow. “How pleasant.”
“You have no idea.” The stories they had about the heretic gods were grisly. They were always fighting amongst themselves, starting wars, murdering each other, using each other’s blood and body parts in gruesome ceremonies…it was no wonder the Conclave’s pantheon was so readily accepted. They were much tamer.
Except when it came to their apparent unanimous hatred of Banebringers, that is.
“How does she create her Banebringers? Wouldn’t she be dead?”
“Can’t believe everything you hear,” Vaughn said, smiling.
“And yet there may be truth to some of it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have taken you as religious.”
She snorted. “Only if ‘religious’ means knowing that whatever gods there are, I’ll be living in the darkest corner of their version of damnation.”
The matter-of-fact statement jarred him. He didn’t think much about life after this one. As a Banebringer, he was automatically barred from whatever happy place existed for pious servants of the Conclave’s gods, so what did it matter? The Ichtaca always joked about how they were all destined for the abyss. But she was serious.
He shifted, unsure of how to respond. “So what does the book say about this…Danathalt?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Not sure yet,” she said. “The content has finally changed. I think we’re about to get a myth, instead of religious drivel. I’ll tell you when I have more.” She went back to her translating.
In the seven days they had been working, she had translated about half of the first book. They hadn’t discovered anything profoundly new; the first part had been old hymns, some of which they had copies of in other sources. Then there were the elaborate descriptions of religious rituals, complete with the exact measure of every grain of barley—and drop of blood from what animal—to bring to sacrifices and feasts. Some of the precise vocabulary had tripped even Ivana up, who seemed to have a good handle on Xambrian and was fluent in Fereharian.
But myths were interesting. You had to read them through the lens of realizing that they were mostly ridiculous, of course, but Ivana was right: it was there that the secrets of Banebringers and their connection to the gods that they so desperately wanted to re-discover were buried.
Facts as simple as a name and domain could open up possibilities. They were always exploring new ways to use their powers, of course, but occasionally a myth would reveal an area to explore they hadn’t even thought of. That was how they had come to invent the qixli—when they had finally linked Taniqotalin, god of the sunrise and sunset, of all things, to the Banebringers they had been calling lightbloods, for their ability to produce light at any given moment.
But they had a myth about Taniqotalin doing precisely the same thing, in an effort to win a contest with his arch-nemesis, Tiuhtanah, the goddess of warriors. But he hadn’t done it to blind her, but to somehow use the light to call ahead to his own minions who were waiting in ambush for Tiuhtanah—against the rules of the contest, of course, but they were gods. Who cared about rules?
The discovery of this myth had sent a flurry of activity through the Ichtaca who had been assigned to research, and after extensive testing and months of failed experiments, they discovered that lightblood aether could also be used to communicate over long distances. Lightbloods themselves could do the same thing by burning their own blood, but only with other lightbloods, so that had limited usefulness for Banebringers as a whole.
“You sure you’ve never heard of Danathalt?” Ivana said after a while.
“Positive. Why?”
“If I understand all of this correctly, he’s the god of the abyss. That seems pretty important.”
Vaughn frowned. “God of the abyss? What’s the myth?”
“He raised an army comprised of inhabitants of the abyss to march on heaven to overthrow…” She paused, mouthing sounds wordlessly for a moment. “Zilo…ziloxch….”
“Ziloxchanachi? He’s the head god, in most myths.” He grinned at her. “And we call him Zily for short. His name’s a bitch to pronounce.”
She blinked at him, as if unsure whether he was jesting or not. “Well, apparently they had a severe falling out,” she said. “Do you have Banebringers who are connected to him?”
Vaughn shook his head. “Not that we know of. You’d think he’d show up more, being the head god and all, but he doesn’t do an awful lot. Mostly sits around and watches the other gods kill each other. Doesn’t seem to approve, but he doesn’t stop it either.”
“Maybe that’s Danathalt’s grievance.”
“Maybe. It doesn’t say?”
“Not that I’ve found yet.”
“Huh.” Vaughn shrugged. “Well, I don’t know if that gets us too far. I don’t know of any Banebringers who can summon armies of the dead.”
“Not just the dead. Also monsters and other nasty creatures.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Other nasty creatures?”
“Yes. You know. Insects. Spiders. Snakes. Rats.” She grimaced. “Everyone knows those come from the abyss.”
Vaughn blinked. “Wait.” He stood up, rounded the table, and leaned over to see her translation. “Insects and rats? It says that?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He read her translation himself, out loud.
“And so Danathalt summoned to himself the inhabitants of the abyss
Discontent souls by hundreds, seeking revenge
Horrors by thousands, seeking blood
Every creepy crawly creature by tens of thousands—”
He broke off, dubious. “Surely it does not say ‘creepy crawly creature’! Are you actually trying to translate this?”
She held her hands out to the side. “Perhaps you would prefer,
‘Creatures that crawl on their bellies, and with multitude of legs, every creature detestable in the eyes of mortals.’ But that’s awfully long-winded, don’t you think? Creepy crawly is much more concise and conveys the meaning just as well.”
He stared down at her. This was the second time she had revealed a whimsical side, so incongruous with everything else he knew about her. He couldn’t help it: he laughed. “Well, one thing’s for sure, they’ll never be seeking you out as a liturgical poet.”
She actually smiled again, that genuine smile he had seen a few days ago, and her eyes shone with amusement. “No, I don’t imagine they will.”
He grinned at her in response, and for a moment, he was certain he saw it. There wasn’t a hint of Sweetblade, or Ivana the charmer, or anything else. It was just her. Ivana.
She was beautiful, and the urge to reach out and touch her lips, to feel the curve of her smile against his fingers—aw, damn, why lie to himself? against his own mouth—was so strong that he knew she could see it. He didn’t care; she already knew he wanted her, but for another instant, something else flickered across her own eyes. Longing, almost thirst.
She broke the moment first, which was just as well. She probably would have stabbed him if he had kissed her.
“Is there any significance to this?” she asked, looking back down at the paper. “You seemed like you had a thought.”
He retreated to his side of the table and leaned over the Xambrian-Fereharian hybrid, staring at the words, which were mostly nonsense to him.
“I don’t know. Just that woman. The one we’re keeping prisoner. She could summon…creepy crawlies.” He flashed a smile at her, hoping to regain the comradery of earlier.
She didn’t return it. “Perhaps this Danathalt is her patron.”
“Perhaps. But that doesn’t explain why she can’t be Sedated, which is really our concern.” He tapped the table a few times with his pen. “Maybe it’s time to have another chat with her.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Danathalt
Vaughn stood confined again with the crazy woman. He patted his side pocket, reassuring himself that the syringe was there. Another researcher stood at the window, fidgeting.
As before, she didn’t move toward him. She merely watched him. But this time, the enmity was already in her eyes.
This may not have been a good idea. He decided to be direct. “Do you know who Danathalt is?”
If the Ichtaca hadn’t known, he wasn’t sure how the woman would have found out, but he wanted to see her reaction.
It was worth the risk. Her eyes widened in a human-like expression of surprise, and for an instant…hope?
And then it was gone. She sneered at him. “You think you’re clever. Naming me.”
Vaughn blinked. “Naming…you?”
She laughed, high and shrill. Wild.
A prickle ran across the back of his neck. Naming her. Naming her. He looked at her hard, watching her eyes. They were hard, colder than he had ever seen even Ivana’s. As he stared, a knowing, spine-chilling smile spread over her lips.
He took a step back toward the door. “Danathalt?” he whispered, horrified.
She laughed again. And kept laughing.
He fled the room before she could even prepare to lunge at him. As he shut and locked the door, she howled.
The researcher—he couldn’t remember her name—was staring at him oddly. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’re pale.”
“I need Yaotel. Now.”
Yaotel stood across from Vaughn where he had found him in the hallway, arms folded and eyebrow raised. “Possessed,” he stated flatly. “You think she’s possessed. By a god.”
“I don’t know what exactly it is,” Vaughn said. “But I’m telling you, it isn’t natural. Somehow, he’s there. Or someone other than her is there. Controlling her.”
Yaotel glanced down the hallway. A triad of people were headed their way, talking animatedly and laughing. He took Vaughn’s elbow and steered him into a nearby empty room. “Vaughn, you need to cut this out.”
Vaughn’s mouth dropped open. “You don’t believe me.”
“I believe there’s something strange about that woman. But being controlled directly by a god? And one we’ve never heard of? That’s, frankly, crazy.”
“I told you, I just found a myth about him in one of those books you wanted me to translate.”
“Yes, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. The archivist told me your friend has been joining you back there.”
Vaughn ran a hand through his hair. He had wondered when Yaotel would hear about that. “You told me she had to find a way to contribute, didn’t you?”
Yaotel’s lips pressed together. “Allowing her access to our most sensitive documents wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
If Yaotel was irritated, then so was Vaughn. What did he have against Ivana, anyway? So she was an assassin. Was that a reason to dislike her so much? “What, now that you’ve found them, you plan on keeping all the information to yourself? How is that better than the Conclave?”
A muscle jumped in Yaotel’s cheek, and Vaughn knew he had taken it a step too far.
“Look,” he said, before Yaotel could speak. “You want them translated, she’s going to have to do it. It’s some weird hybrid language, and I simply don’t have the knowledge.”
Yaotel’s jaw twitched a few more times, but finally he jerked his head, which Vaughn took as reluctant acquiescence.
Vaughn steered the conversation back to the original subject. “All I know is what I told you. Danathalt is the god of the abyss. The myth indicates he can summon creatures of the abyss—which seems to include—” He broke off, choking back a laugh as he realized he had almost said “creepy crawlies.” “Insects and vermin,” he revised.
“I’ll give you that perhaps this Danathalt is her patron, since we’ve never seen a profile like hers before,” Yaotel said. “But possessed?”
“I don’t know,” Vaughn said. “I just know that she was talking like…like it wasn’t actually her. And I keep getting this feeling like the real person is in there somewhere, desperate to be let out.”
Yaotel grunted. “We already know she’s nuts. Maybe she thinks she is Danathalt.”
Vaughn had to admit that was a distinct possibility.
Yaotel rolled his eyes. “But I’ll try talking to her myself—only because I can’t ignore it. But if you want my opinion, I think spending so much time in that back room is causing you to have an over-active imagination. We’ve never heard of such a thing before—”
“And that’s stopped us from learning new things?”
“—and more importantly, I’d rather not waste time entertaining the implications of such a thing if it all comes to naught.”
Vaughn was silent. He was trying not to think about that himself. If this Danathalt could somehow control his Banebringer…why couldn’t any god?
It wasn’t a pleasant thought, certainly not one that Yaotel would want rumors spread about before they knew more.
“Just keep working,” Yaotel said. “Right now, I’m more concerned with the Sedation angle, and this doesn’t get me any closer to that.”
“Unless possession by a god keeps you from being Sedated,” Vaughn muttered.
Yaotel threw him a sharp look and headed back toward the research wing.
Vaughn sighed and leaned against the wall. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe she was crazier than he’d originally thought. Maybe he needed some fresh air.
Alarm bells started to ring, and he pushed himself away from the wall, startled. Again?
“What’s with the bells?” Ivana asked, without looking up, once Vaughn had slipped back into the room.
“It means there’s a threat to the compound,” Vaughn said. It had been worse, this time. This time, it had been a pair of bloodhawks, who could simply fly over the walls. Fortunately, he had already re-filled his quiver with aether arrows, and while Linette and her team w
ould be busy tending to a slew of nasty gashes for the next few hours, no one had been killed or mortally wounded. “The first time, we were attacked by three bloodwolves. This time, it was two bloodhawks.”
“And this happens often?” Ivana asked.
“No. I…honestly don’t know what’s going on.” He hesitated. It seemed coincidental that both times they had been attacked had been shortly after he had talked to the crazy woman. But was it worth mentioning?
Ivana looked up. “Spit it out.”
He was apparently quite transparent. He slid into the chair across from her. “Danathalt could summon bloodbane, right?”
“I assume that’s what it means by horrors,” Ivana said. “And it’s pretty well-accepted that bloodbane come from the abyss.” She raised an eyebrow at him, as if to obtain his confirmation.
He shrugged. “We haven’t found anything to contradict the idea.”
“So?”
“So…I wonder if the crazy woman has something to do with it. Bloodwolves are solitary, and yet they attacked in a group. Bloodhawks typically don’t prey on people. A menace to livestock, but…” He rubbed his chin. “And I’ve never heard either of those monsters attacking a walled estate.”
“Other monsters do?”
“Well, no, not typically for no reason. But the more overtly vicious ones might follow someone and cause trouble if they get angry enough.”
“Like our friend from the city.”
He shuddered, remembering that behemoth. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if one of those showed up. It would smash their puny walls with one swing of its fist. “Yeah.”
“So you think she might be summoning them.”
“It’s a guess.”
“Why?”
That was the problem. “I don’t know. To try to escape? Because I annoyed her?”
Ivana was silent for a moment, studying him. “A reasonable hypothesis, given the evidence,” she said at last. “Though if she’s trying to escape, she’ll need more than a few monsters, it sounds like.”
Vaughn shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said for what felt like the hundredth time that day.