Bone Lord 3

by Dante King

  “Welcome, Raiser of the Dead!” Hegmun bellowed when Friya and I walked in. He raised his tankard, after which the entire hall got to their feet and followed suit.

  “Thank you, thank you,” I said, “but you can all sit down; we have business to discuss.”

  Friya translated this, and it prompted a bout of hearty guffaws from the Hothgrumians as they sat down again. Friya took me to the end of the table opposite. This place at the table, she explained, was reserved for guests of the highest honor.

  She took the seat on my left, between me and Isu. Anna and Elyse sat on my right, and Rollar, Drok, and his wife sat next to them. Before I could introduce Friya to everyone in my party, she took the initiative.

  “Greetings to our honored guests,” she said. “I am Friya, Wise Woman of Hothgrum and devotee of Vance Chauzec, God of Death.”

  Interesting. This was the first I’d heard of her being a devotee of mine. After our romp in her cabin, though, I had no doubt she worshiped me. Before she could continue, something very unexpected happened: Isu—whom I’d expected to display her usual venom—stood up, bowed, and took hold of Friya’s hand.

  “Wise Woman of Hothgrum,” she said with a warm smile and without a trace of sarcasm, “I am honored. I am Isu, necromancer and loyal servant of the God of Death. I have seen you in my dreams.”

  What the fuck was this? Friya also bowed to Isu.

  “You too are a Raiser of the Dead, one who is greatly blessed,” Friya said in a tone of subdued reverence. “Long have I worshiped the magic of Death. We have met in the land of dreams, you and I. It is a great honor to finally meet you in this world of blood and bone.”

  Then Anna stood up, leaned over, and offered a hand to Friya. Friya took Anna’s hand in both of hers and touched it to her forehead in a gesture of respect.

  “You are a devotee of the Charm Goddess, are you not?” Friya asked.

  “I am indeed,” Anna replied, sweet as sugar. I peeked behind her back just to check that she wasn’t surreptitiously using Lucielle’s Mirror again, but she was being a good girl.

  “I recognized the necklace,” Friya said.

  I felt a little sheepish. I’d figured the necklace Anna wore was just another of her many items of jewelry, the only function of which was to enhance her already staggering beauty.

  “Since I was young, I’ve had a great interest in the Old Gods. When I heard that Vance was coming up here, I had to tag along. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get away from the lands under the sway of that cruel church of sanctimonious virgins.”

  “Well, you are most welcome here, Anna. We welcome devotees of all the Old Gods with open arms.”

  Now the only woman of my party who hadn’t introduced herself to Friya was Elyse. She was squirming uncomfortably in her seat, staring at Friya with barely veiled contempt. This was the last thing I’d been expecting, but in hindsight, it made sense. Everyone here followed the Old Gods, and nobody was particularly fond of the Church of Light. Elyse was entirely on her own, for once a minority rather than part of a comfortable majority. I figured I’d better step in before these women decided to gang up on Elyse, so I went over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  “This is Elyse,” I said before anyone else could take the lead, “the first person to join me in what has become my quest to destroy the Blood God. She is a Bishop of the Church of Light, that much is true.”

  A rumble of disapproval rippled through the hall after Rollar had translated.

  “But,” I continued, “she is of a far more open mind than many of her peers in the Church. First of all, she’s here following me, the God of Death. That should tell you something about the kind of woman she is. She’s been by my side for the entire duration of every battle we’ve fought, and she’s a formidable warrior in her own right. More than that, she is a woman of honor and loyalty. She’s put her life on the line for me again and again, and you’d better believe I’d do the same for her in a heartbeat.”

  Elyse looked up at me, her beautiful eyes brimming with tears.“Thank you, Vance,” she whispered. “I needed that.”

  She then erased the glint of jealousy and enmity from her eyes, put on her most cheerful smile, stood up, and extended her hand to Friya. Friya took it graciously, to her credit. Her dislike of the Church of Light was more than justified. In a place like Luminescent Spires, the assholes in charge would likely burn her at the stake. Friya had understood that Elyse was not like those zealots. In the interest of the cohesion of the group, Friya put her prejudices aside and smiled at the bishop.

  “We do not often see representatives of the Church of Light here in Hothgrum,” Friya said, “but any friend of Vance’s is a friend of ours. As long as you serve the Raiser of the Dead, you are welcome in our Great Hall.”

  Hegmun and the other Hothgrum dignitaries nodded approvingly.

  “Now that we’ve taken care of introductions,” I said, “let’s get down to business. Some terrible shit has been going on in this part of the world. Friya has told me of a growing evil. If I’m to do anything about it, and I sure plan to, I need the details. No beating around the bush, no vague hints and clues and winks. Tell me exactly what the fuck is happening here.”

  “You’re right, Lord,” Friya said. “For a long time, the Frozen Wastes of the North have served as a barrier. But the barrier has been breached.”

  “A barrier for what?”

  “Some Old Gods survived the Purge, but their powers were so diminished that they had no option but to flee to places where those who wanted them dead could not reach them. You have traveled through much of Prand, and you’ve seen firsthand how difficult the journey here is, how inhospitable the Wastes are. Do you think the Splendorous Army could mount a large-scale expedition this far north?”

  “I’ll answer that, as someone who once commanded a division in that very army,” Rollar said. “It would be logistically impossible to get a large number of troops this far north. Vance’s undead army could do what no others could do. Men of flesh? Impossible. That’s why your tribe remains unconquered.”

  “Yes,” Friya said. “And that was why certain Old Gods ventured beyond our lands, in search of a place where they would be out of the reach of the long arm of the Splendorous Army. And they were safe there… until recently.”

  “What happened?” Isu asked, looking concerned.

  “The Splendorous Army was not the only thing the surviving gods had to worry about. There was something far more dangerous coming for them. It arrived, and they were not prepared.”

  “The Blood God,” Elyse murmured. “It has to be.”

  “Yes. Servants of the Blood God. Powerful servants of the Blood God.”

  “And I bet I know exactly who the fuck that might be,” I said. “We’ve been scouring Prand for the whereabouts of my uncle, but nothing has turned up so far. Now I bet I know exactly where to find that asswipe. What I don’t understand is why the hell he’d be looking for other gods. He already serves the Blood God, and that evil motherfucker needs virgin blood, doesn’t he?”

  “While the Blood God does enjoy the blood of young virgin girls, he lusts after blood that is much more potent,” Friya said. “You must understand that in the same manner that you gain power from every soul you take, he gains power from every creature he drains of blood. But, as you know, if you stab a rat with your enchanted dagger, it will not give you the same amount of power as stabbing a powerful warrior, yes?”

  “Well, I haven’t tried to stab a rat, but I see your point.”

  “So, imagine the kind of power the Blood God could obtain from drinking the blood of a living god.”

  “Oh, shit,” I muttered as I thought of the ramifications. Who could he go after? Me, but that would of course be impossible, but what if he got his hands on…

  Suddenly, the doors of the Great Hall flew open, and a great howling gale rushed through the longhouse, extinguishing all the flames and even bowling some guests off their chairs. I jumped up o
nto the table brandishing Grave Oath, ready to take on whoever—or whatever—came through the door.

  When I saw who it was, though, I forgot about my weapon and felt a broad smile spread across my face. The sexy contours of Rami-Xayon’s slim, toned form were revealed in tantalizing detail by the figure-hugging black enjarta suit she wore, and in her dark phoenix eyes, the light of an appealing defiance sparkled.

  “There’s one living goddess in the North whose blood the Blood God won’t be tasting,” she said grimly.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Rami, it’s great to see you again!” Elyse’s face glowed with delight.

  Any rivalry that had formerly existed between these two had long since been buried, and I thought Elyse was particularly happy to see one of the founding members of the party return. With the new additions, she would be feeling more and more like an outsider.

  Rami-Xayon gave us all a polite nod as she entered the Great Hall, brushing snow off her shoulders. “It is good to see all of you again.” She fixed me with an intense stare filled with smoldering desire. “I have especially missed you, Vance,” she purred, before adopting a more serious tone. “I have traveled long and far, and I have found that most of my temples across Prand stand empty and decrepit, fallen into ruin and disrepair. Most of those who once worshiped me have died, and their descendants have forgotten the old ways, or have had the old traditions forcibly erased by the Church of Light. If I and the others had not been so heinously betrayed,” she hissed, shooting a sudden, withering glare at a cringing Isu, “perhaps things would have been different, and the Blood God would not have had the opportunity to rise again. But we cannot waste time lamenting the past. We must work to ensure that we prevent the worst fate from befalling Prand.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “So, let’s get back to this ‘sacrificing a god’ business. Just how bad would it be if my uncle succeeded?”

  “It would be catastrophic,” Isu said grimly. “The Demogorgon would most certainly be able to materialize on this plane, and you’ve witnessed, in the glimpses into the past you saw at Kroth, just how unstoppable a demon of the ancient world is when it materializes on this plane.”

  Isu suddenly seemed eager to provide me with information, perhaps wanting to deflect as much attention as she could from the reminder Rami-Xayon gave everyone of her past.

  I shot a quick glance at Friya, wondering whether I should mention this weapon she was going to give me to defeat the Blood God and his Demogorgon. She subtly shook her head. I trusted her judgment but wondered why she would want me to keep it a secret.

  “However,” Isu continued, “we do have a reason for optimism, albeit a small one.”

  “And what might that be?” I asked.

  “Such a sacrifice—that of a living god—cannot simply be done anywhere. It must be done in a temple of the Blood God’s, most of which were destroyed long ago.”

  “Still, my uncle must know of at least one that still exists somewhere in Prand. He’s nothing if not thorough.”

  “In the land I was talking about earlier,” Friya said, “for which the Wastes serve as a buffer, there is a cursed city. Beyond that city lies a vast and desolate mountain range. There, in the peaks of the mountains, rested an intact Temple of Blood. This was reported as recently as a few years ago by one of our warriors who journeyed there on a quest.”

  “What’s this cursed city you’re talking about?” I asked.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Isu squirming on her chair. What dirty pies didn't the former goddess have her fingers in? Again, she seemed to radiate a fear that her dark secrets might be revealed.

  “The city is called Aith,” Friya answered.

  “I’ve heard of it,” I said. “When I was a boy, my father told me stories about it. It used to be a city of high art and culture and learning, but it was cursed by one of the old gods and overrun with a plague of giant man-eating spiders.”

  “Close,” Friya said, “but that’s not the whole truth. It was taken over by spiders, in a sense. And it was cursed by a god. But the people living there were not killed and eaten. They were… changed.”

  “Changed? Changed how?”

  “They became spiders themselves. Human-spider abominations.”

  “Ah, yes, the Arachne,” Elyse said. “We were always taught that Aith and the Arachne were a myth. According to legend, the Arachne cannot leave Aith. Whatever gives them their cursed life also binds them to the city. Should they leave it, they would wither and die.”

  “So, when you say human-spider abominations,” I said to Friya, “just how much human is in these people? Or how much spider?”

  “They look far more human than spider,” Friya answered, “and while Elyse is correct in saying that they cannot leave Aith, what is also true is that outsiders can enter the city. However, it is not very wise for humans to enter Aith…”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a human anymore.”

  “But the rest of us are,” Elyse said. “Well, besides Rami.”

  “Even gods might have trouble there,” Friya said. “Like many myths, the story of Aith being overrun by man-eating spiders has a grain of truth in it. While the Arachne are not spiders, some of them do eat people.”

  “Aith is a city of human-spider creatures with a taste for human flesh?” I said.

  “Perhaps we should give Aith a wide berth,” Elyse said with a gulp.

  “I’m afraid there is only one way to get to the Temple of Blood,” Friya said, “and that’s through Aith. But Aith is not the extent of the dangers that lie ahead. Once you have ventured through the Arachne city, a mountain pass also must be navigated. This pass is guarded by Jotunn. Frost Giants.”

  “Well, I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge, no matter how big,” I said. “But let’s return to the subject of deicide for a moment. You’re sure this is what my uncle is trying to do, Friya?”

  “I’m sure. There’s no other reason for him and his followers to have gone that far north, to have journeyed all the way to one of the last intact Blood Temples. What’s more, I’m quite sure which god they’re going to sacrifice—which goddess.”

  “Go on.”

  “One of the Old Gods used to visit me regularly in my dreams. She was part of the reason I felt so compelled to seek you out, Vance. She needed the help of the Raiser of the Dead, for she knew that the power of the Blood God was growing. She realized that eventually, his followers would come for her. There are few more powerful sacrifices that they could make than that of a living goddess.”

  “Which goddess was this?” I asked.

  “Lucielle, the Charm Goddess.”

  “No!” Anna gasped. “Not Lucielle, no, no! You have to stop them, Vance. You have to save her.”

  Of course, having a goddess sacrificed to the Blood God was a really, really bad thing in itself, but Anna seemed to have some vested interest in preventing this, one that went beyond the simple “the world is fucked if this happens” motivation. I looked at her with one eyebrow raised.

  “Did you have some sort of ulterior motive in stowing away in that supply wagon?” I asked.

  Anna sighed and clasped her hands together. “I… I’ve been a devotee of the Charm Goddess for a long time, Vance. I didn’t just use her Beauty Mirror. I worshiped her too. Of course, I worship you as well, but that’s the great thing about the Old Gods: you don’t have to limit yourself to worshiping just one.” She shot a withering sidelong glance at Elyse, who sucked in a sharp breath and blushed. “And,” Anna continued, “I’ve always dreamed of being Fated. I thought that if I journeyed with you, we might meet Lucielle along the way, and she would see how devoted I was to her and make me Fated. I... I should have told you that part, I know. I just thought that you’d think it was stupid.”

  “Believe me, Anna, you’re not the first woman I’ve met who’s wanted to become Fated.”

  Rami-Xayon chuckled—she’d already had that wish fulfilled—but then Friya bl
ushed and looked away.

  “You too?!” I asked the Wise Woman.

  “A girl can dream, can’t she?” Friya said with a sly smile.

  “Wait, you’re not Fated already?” I asked.

  “The powers I possess are not exactly the same as those who are Fated. They are minor in comparison, gifted to me because of my devotion rather than because a god specifically chose me.”

  “Right,” I said, not sure I understood the distinction. “So, when did you last hear from Lucielle, Friya?”

  “It has been many weeks since she last appeared in my dreams,” Friya said, her face falling. “This does not bode well for any of us. All I can say is I would have felt it if the sacrifice had already been made. It all depends on how long Lucielle can hold her fortress—and her powers have been waning. Whether any other gods are helping Lucielle against your uncle, or whether the others have fled—perhaps across the sea to Yeng—I cannot say.”

  “Then we’d best not waste any time,” I said grimly. “My ratfuck of an uncle might be sharpening his daggers as we speak.”

  “If you will allow me to,” Friya said, “I will accompany you on this quest. My foreknowledge may prove useful.”

  “The more, the merrier.”

  Rollar, meanwhile, had been translating for the Hothgrumians. They listened intently, with looks of concern. Hegmun finally piped up.

  “Hegmun says he will place all of Hothgrum’s warriors at your disposal for this mission,” Rollar translated for me. “He is eager to help you in whatever way he can.”

  I already had a small army of undead troops with me, including my new zombie barbarian cavalry on their zombie direwolves. I didn’t need more troops, especially seeing as we were going into mountainous terrain, where there wouldn’t be any room for large pitched battles. What I did need, however, was more souls, so that I could increase my own powers and gain new magic skills. But I couldn’t exactly ask his warriors to kneel while I executed them one by one and took their souls. Well, I could, but that seemed a little too diabolical, even for me.