by Neil Beynon
‘The world is as it should be,’ said Danu, turning to leave. ‘Without freedom, there is no point to life.’
‘You would give up?’
‘There is always a way,’ said Danu, folding her hands into her sleeves. ‘When do you leave?’
Pan looked towards Anya. ‘I had thought to say goodbye.’
Danu shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
Pan nodded. ‘Soon, then.’
Anya turned to look back at the forest.
She was amused that the gods thought she could not sense that they were there, though she herself did not understand how she could. Anya hadn’t really expected the gods to try and talk to her after what had happened. You didn’t need a god’s powers to tell that she had taken her fill of them, even without what she had done to Vedic. She’d still thought that Pan might make the effort to come over to her. Of all of them, he might understand. Instead, they stood at the treeline, staring out as if she couldn’t sense them there, ever the manipulators. She looked over at Vedic’s ghost. He stared at her with sardonic eyes.
‘Don’t say it.’
The ghost shrugged. ‘I’m not even really here.’
Anya sighed. She’d got used to the idea that she was going to see glimpses of Vedic, her grandfather, Fin and the others wherever she went, although the woodsman was the one who came to her most often now. But the idea that they weren’t really there, and that her mind was conjuring them, had taken a little time to understand. In those last moments of the battle, before she had come to, she had been in Vedic’s head – not memory fragments, but completely free to roam. She’d seen everything. She’d looked over the edge into the void with him and seen the dark, silent absence beyond.
‘They’re pathetic,’ said Anya, enjoying the breeze on her face.
‘They are ancient. Staying alive is habit-forming.’
Anya smiled. She liked this version of Vedic better than the man she had known: he had lost the shadow that was Laos and was closer to the person she had imagined.
‘You’ve decided to hang up your sword, then?’
Anya nodded. ‘For now.’
‘Your grandfather was right, then.’
‘No,’ said Anya, sharply.
‘But—’
‘It’s a choice, one of many, and I do what is right.’
‘That’s a dangerous point of departure, Anya. I should know.’
‘Not if you choose to do as little harm as possible in the pursuit of it.’
Vedic folded his arms.
‘You don’t agree?’
‘I think the call of the steel and the way the Shaanti look at you now will be a siren that will be very hard to resist,’ said Vedic. ‘The Kurah did not invade for fun. There will be another threat, and I think you will take up arms.’
‘Perhaps,’ conceded Anya. ‘But first I will learn how those gods came to play such games with us.’
Vedic smiled.
‘You’re not even real,’ she whispered. ‘You never were, and yet I miss your cantankerous face enough to conjure you from my mind.’
Vedic looked at her with an emotion approaching pity.
‘I can go if you’d prefer.’
Anya smiled. ‘Stay or go as you wish. I do not need a sop to face the night.’
Vedic bowed. ‘Indeed, lady, you do not.’
The woodsman faded on the breeze, leaving Anya staring at empty grass. She took one last look around, adjusted her good hand on her belt and set off in the direction of the Shaanti camp. She had the sense of the creature under the ground, angry and petulant, twisting and turning under the mud of the Barrens. The feeling made her smile.
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About the Author
Neil has been writing since he could hold a pen, publishing for over ten years and still has most of his own hair. He is the author of many short stories, some of which are gathered in his collection After The Rain and some of which are available as individual eBooks. He has been previously published in a number of small press outlets.
Neil has lived all over the place including London, Bradford and Somalia but is now settled in his native South Wales where he spends his time running after small children (his own) and endlessly toying with the idea of retiring to a fishing boat. He makes his online home at https://www.neilbeynon.com. You can also find Neil on twitter at https://twitter.com/neilbeynon, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/neilbeynonauthor/ and you should send him an email at [email protected] if so inclined.
Acknowledgments
The Scarred God started life a long time ago and has been through many iterations before release. I am indebted to early readers and supporters for feedback and encouragement. Particularly, my wife, Gemma Beynon; my one-time tutor and friend, Justina Robson; my dear friend and fellow flash fiction alumni, Gareth L Powell; my dear friends Toni Rickenback, Kim Lakin-Smith, Matthew and Laura Harrison. Thank you - you’re all superstars.
I’ve been blessed with some awesome editorial collaborators. Early editorial and development advice was received from my dear friend Donna Scott and I recommend her services to anyone looking for an editor. My copyeditor, Elizabeth Ward, did sterling work when I was up against deadlines. I was very lucky to find a brilliant proofer in Leonora Bulbeck. Thank you all.
Finally, a note of thanks to Mark Stay and Mark Desvaux and the community at the Bestseller Experiment. The podcast got me out of the rut I found myself following the derailment of fledgling writing career in 2013 (AKA the worst year of my life). Keen-eyed observers will note A Significant Passage of Time between that year and the launch of this book. I am indebted to the two Marks, and the community around the show, which kept me sane(ish) on this crazy adventure.
If this book has worked at all, it is due to the help of those above. If it has failed, that’s on me.
Neil Beynon
Wales, 2019.
The Scarred God Copyright © 2019 by Neil Beynon
This edition Copyright © 2019 by Neil Beynon
The right of Neil Beynon to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Apart from any use permitted under UK law copyright law, this Work may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of the Copyright Licence Agency.
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Damonza (https://damon
za.com/)
Edited by Donna Scott.
Copyeditor - Elizabeth Ward.
Proofreader - Leonora Bulbeck.
First published by Hanesyn Ltd. in 2019.
e-ISBN: 978-1-912958-05-4
Created with Vellum