Eve of Snows: Sundering the Gods Book One

by L. James Rice

  She strode close; there was no mistaking the location. She’d slipped on the bank, catching the slimy root of a tree and scrambled to stay out of the lake until Ivin pulled her back, but the gashes in the mud had disappeared, the soil still covered in the green moss she’d worn on her legs. The older footprints, those of the priests who’d explored before them, were still there. “How’s that possible? Are we lost, then?”

  Rinold snorted and gave a stare. “I ain’t never lost, it’ll just take a candle longer than expected.” The Squirrel wrinkled his nose in thought, appearing to savor the challenge. He stopped to stare at numerous crossroads, glancing at the sun through the haze. He’d cluck his tongue in a manner that reminded her of the chatter of his namesake until he made a decision unerringly correct.

  He stopped at a dead tree Eliles recognized as near their entrance, and turned to face them, eye twitching. “Wanna leave where we came, or a little off, in case that spot’s guarded?”

  They shared glances, and Ivin said, “Better safe than sorry.”

  Rinold nodded and swung them north along a skinny branch of soggy ground before finding a trail west, where the fog thinned and they found the bowl’s icy wall. They shared smiles, even the whiny monk, and headed south with confident strides.

  Voices broke the silence, and they ducked behind a fallen tree at the edge of light and fog. Eliles peeped through bare branches to see herself sliding from the heights of the bowl, Ivin joining her, and the laugh they’d shared. Solineus and Lelishen came next, then the monk tumbled into the steam before growling at Rinold for his antics. It didn’t take long, and the other Eliles called her fiery friends, and yesterday’s group slipped into the cover of the Steaming Lakes.

  “What the Twelve Hells was that?” Tokodin asked.

  Eliles’ mind whirled. “It was the final gift from the Touched, the gift of a head start. We slept backward, just as he said.” She grabbed Ivin’s hand and ran to the slope where priests had used spikes to ascend. “Zjin!” A furry head glanced over the edge. “Throw us rope! Fast!”

  “And again I ask, what was that?”

  Eliles grinned. “It was our yesterday, which means the Taken aren’t here yet. Don’t you get it?”

  “How in the hells is that possible?”

  Lelishen said, “She’s right, how doesn’t matter.” Rope slithered the ice’s length, landing at their feet. “Everything we witnessed in the tomb tells us time is… unstable there. Climb.”

  It only took a few wicks to ascend the slope, with Colok pulling them, and they took seats on the sleds. She leaned into Ivin as they snuggled in for a long ride, but she looked to Zjin, unable to refrain her curiosity. “How long were we gone?”

  The Colok’s lips wrinkled above his fangs, resembling a shrug. “Moments.”

  She closed her eyes, the warmth of the man sitting behind her making her feel safe in a world gone angry and senseless, and the warmth of the Sliver reassuring her that at least there was hope to recover a semblance of what peace they’d lost.

  She smiled, pulling Ivin’s hands around her waist. It looked like they’d make it back to Istinjoln a day early.

  IN THE TWO days it took to return to the mountain outpost and their stabled horses, Solineus didn’t see a sign of Shadow or Taken. Every time he closed his eyes he prayed to sleep and for the woman to visit him, to help him, tell him something of importance, but she never graced his dreams with her beauty or words. He’d failed to kill Ulrikt, and as they reined to a stop in the foothills overlooking Istinjoln, he couldn’t fathom how he’d be able to do so now.

  The beam of light was visible even in the light of midday, and if a war still raged in the monastery, the blood flowed underground. Not a single guard walked the wall. During the journey to and from the lakes, he’d harbored a faint hope the priests had defeated the enemy and their travels would’ve been for naught. This fantasy dissipated, and he dismounted to stretch his legs.

  Everyone stood silent, except Zjin, who growled orders to a score of his people who joined them for the final leg of their trip. Solineus rested his hands on the Twins’ hilts and whispers invaded his consciousness. His eyes blinked, rapid and uncontrolled for several flickers, until the whispers slowed and weakened. He exhaled until his lungs emptied, taking control of the rhythm of his heart. Beware the singing words of Latcu, the Touched had warned him, but at the time he’d had no idea what the skeleton meant.

  The Twins whispered songs in his head when he touched them, but he didn’t understand the tales their lyrics told. He’d be as successful translating the conversation between two hissing snakes. When he pulled one from its sheath Lelishen had gasped, declaring them forged during the Age of God Wars, maybe by the hand of a god. The blades were translucent and smoky blue, like frosted topaz hammered into a perfect edge. Latcu, which Lelishen told him meant “unbreakable glass” in the Edan tongue. The eye suggested they were brittle, as if they might break with the lightest rap, but running the sword’s edge along a sled’s steel runner scarred the metal. What mattered now is if they’d part Shadows as the Touched claimed.

  He uttered a quote that jumped into his memory, but he couldn’t remember who’d first spoken the words. “‘To what end have we come, to glory or damnation?’”

  Lelishen grinned at him. “You’re well read for a warrior and sailor, albeit a peculiar translation.”

  “I can’t even remember reading it, let alone what it’s from.” He looked to Ivin and Eliles, the pair having become inseparable since first they touched one another on the sled. Not that he could say much, the Trelelunin woman made him not want to wander far, either. “We’ve come this far, what next?”

  Eliles said, “We destroy the Shadows.”

  Tokodin laughed. “You’ve got verve, girl, but unless you can tell me how you’ll defeat seven lord priests and Shadows”—he threw his bedroll to the ground and sat—“I’m right here.”

  The girl stepped toward the monk. “Tip your bottle like you’ve done every day and go on as a godsdamned coward.”

  “One Lash, you’re brilliant.” Tokodin grabbed the bottle the Touched had gifted him and popped the cork. “And a godsdamned defiled girl.”

  Solineus wanted to knock teeth from the monk’s smug smile, even if he had no idea what defiled meant. Still, Tokodin had a point. “We traipse in there with nothing but our balls hanging out they’ll cut ’em off and shove ’em down our throats.” He grinned at the two women, hoping to break the tension. No luck. “Excuse the expression.”

  “It’s true, courage alone won’t win us a thing,” Ivin said. “We’ve no idea how many Shadows or Taken are in there, but we’ve surprise and Colok on our side.”

  Tokodin wiped his mouth. “The bigger trouble is what the hells the defiled girl will do with her Sliver. What prayers you got for a piece of star?”

  “I don’t have any prayers.”

  “Right, right. And still you rush in. The gods didn’t favor you with prayer nor wisdom—did a fine bit with your ass, I admit.”

  Solineus stepped between the trio. “Forget the godsdamned monk—”

  “Yeah, forget me, I’ll be drunk over here.”

  “Best seal your lips around that bottle before I gut you.” Solineus glared as Tokodin tipped the bottle, nursing it like a babe at the teat.

  The Touched wasn’t kidding, the liquor in that bottle was potent and fast, bringing out the worst in the man. The monk was worthless sober or drunk. Solineus turned back to Eliles. “I don’t mind dying so long as I have a chance to live, so the biggest question is do you think you can do it?”

  The girl squirmed. “I can do something, I just don’t know what.”

  Solineus eyed the priestess and the Choerkin then cast a glance to Zjin. The girl and her holy artifact were the wild cards, but the Colok were the down cards, and necessary for the win. “I’m in if you give the word. But we all need be in, except the bleating monk, and you, Lelishen.”

  The Trelelunin smiled. “I’m
with you, the Shadows of Man can’t hurt me; all I need worry about are Taken.”

  “Ivin, Eliles, Zjin. The decision lies with you three.”

  Zjin growled a single word. “Fight.” The rumbles from his tribe reinforced their willingness to do battle.

  Solineus clasped his hands, gazing to the young girl whose decision might determine the fate of a people, doom or salvation. He felt for her, no one should bear such a burden, let alone someone so young.

  “We need to try,” she said, “but if it proves impossible, we can’t hesitate, we need to get out.”

  Ivin wrapped his arms around her. “You’re certain?”

  The girl’s eyes were blued steel. “We won’t want to fight Shadows in the dark, and we won’t get any stronger waiting.”

  Ivin asked, “What about the monk?”

  Tokodin’s mouth gaped, his eyes cracked so Solineus wasn’t sure if the man was awake or not. “He can watch the horses, or we can tie him to one, makes no difference to me.”

  IVIN ORDERED the horses tied off in a copse of trees several hundred strides north of Istinjoln with Tokodin the stumbling herdsman. He took the job without a single complaint until they confiscated his bottle. Ivin stuck that in his pack, happy to take on the extra weight to make sure the monk stayed conscious while tending their animals. A young Colok stayed behind to watch the man.

  There was no way to hide on their path to the monastery, no cover closer than a thousand strides. Every plant or stone capable of concealing a spy or an attacker had been removed over the centuries. On the other hand, there weren’t any guards on the wall, either, and the gatehouse stood wide open. The new rulers of Istinjoln were cocksure or setting a trap, and Ivin prayed for the former.

  With open ground in front of them they trotted as quick as they could without winding themselves until they pressed against the outer wall, resting. No alarms rang in the air, no screams of Shadows or Taken. Ivin peered over the rim of his black shield as they skulked around towers until reaching the gatehouse. They peeked around the edge of the wall, to see a Taken walk beneath the open rear portcullis, its dull gaze on the ground as it strolled their way.

  Ivin waited, listening for the scrape of the woman’s dragging toes on the ground. He spun, sword slicing flat through the air and the only sounds the Taken made were the thuds of head and body hitting the ground. Nothing raised an alarm as they made their way beneath murder holes.

  What plan they had was flexible, depending on what they saw, and everything so far showed the bulk of the demons and possessed had spread into the countryside, or marched on the Fost in their Holy War. The courtyard tantalized with its emptiness.

  He glanced back at the corpse, slender tendrils creeping from its flesh. A dash to the stables, or to any building, might run them straight into the enemy; at least on open ground they’d see the attack coming, and the longer they waited the more likely they’d be caught flat-footed. He waved his sword. “Straight on, all the way to the tower, if we’re able.”

  The Colok fanned out around them as they ran until they cleared the bailey and turned through labyrinthine streets. The quiet broken only by the fall of their feet unnerved him, there should be enemies, something to fight. Ivin’s heart pounded in his chest by the time they reached the inner courtyard.

  The beam pulsed and a Shadow fell from the dark crease in the air, squirming and writhing on the pavestones, and the Colok bustled past the humans. The Shadow rose to quivering hands and knees, shrieking without a mouth as the Colok descended, shredding its gauzy darkness with their hands.

  Ivin slid to a stop the moment he realized Eliles wasn’t beside him and turned. She stood with the Sliver of Star in her hands and it pulsed with a silver radiance. He counted four Taken standing in the streets surrounding the courtyard, blocking their escape.

  Humans and Colok gathered around the young girl, making a circle. Taken, once monks, priests, and common folk, arrived to stare at them.

  A voice echoed across the courtyard, powerful and stern. “The bones told me you might one day hold the Star, but they didn’t tell me you’d deliver it straight to me.” The doors to the Tower of Sol creaked open, and the Broldun lord priest stepped outside, but the voice came from elsewhere. “Unfortunate you brought these souls with you to die.”

  Ivin looked into Eliles’ wide, bloodshot eyes and felt her fear as she spoke. “Ulrikt, do you see him?”

  Ivin’s eyes scanned the tower and rooftops, but all he saw were a growing number of Taken. “No.”

  “I’ve killed you all.”

  “Not here, not today. Do what we came for, destroy it.”

  The Sliver pulsed blinding silver as she raised her arms, a mercury shower cast before their eyes and lit by a blazing sun, and when he could see again the Taken were charging them. Ivin stepped between Zjin and Solineus with his shield couched.

  A Taken leaped through the air, a man in priest’s robes with a broken face and an eye hanging from its socket, and crashed into his shield. He braced and slid with the force of its weight, then pushed back, spinning to cleave into the thing’s sternum, and it crumpled to the ground.

  Colok roars deafened him as they battered, crushed, and rent all comers. Solineus pressed into the melée, his swords cleaving flesh and bone. His footwork and the graceful arcs of his blades proved the man was a natural predator.

  Ivin drove his shield into a Taken clawing at Zjin’s side and slashed another. Bodies lay scattered around them, worms of Shadow squirming from their gore, but more came. Fingers scratched across his face but Zjin took the Taken’s head in his massive hands and crushed its skull before Ivin could bring his sword to bear.

  They might kill every Taken in Istinjoln to die at the hands of Shadows, except for a young girl with the weight of their lives on her shoulders.

  ELILES STOOD as an island in the maelstrom, unmolested by the terror around her. The sounds of battle and dying washed over her, but her eyes focused on the Sliver of Star. Power rushed through her core, a vibrance that made her question whether she might indeed be a god. It overwhelmed every sense of her being until the sounds of battle disappeared, until her vision was pure silver, and every nerve of her being felt exultation, the essence of pure Spirit and Life. She wanted to run, to fly, to burn the world to cinder.

  Hints of oranges and yellows and reds and blues tinted the silver of her universe and she exulted in the rise of fire, in its ability to turn things living to dust. The mercury in her eyes turned to magma, flowing and spouting energy, and her fiery friends gloried in its blaze, dancing in its surging waves. She could kill on a whim. Ravage the island, reduce the forests to ash and rid the world of Shadow and Taken, including her people and friends.

  “We are children of Fire, you and me,” Ulrikt’s voice said from within her head, soft but drowning out the clamor of battle, as if her ears were going deaf but the senses of her mind growing stronger. “Children of Fire, but there is no need to burn the world. We may yet have peace, all these people yet may live, and you and I could speak to Sol through the Eye of the Fire Lion, unleash his wisdom to enlighten the world of unbelievers.”

  The gentle words caressed her emotions, and her vision of the world around her slowed. Her valiant allies slaughtered Taken, but Shadows would rise and evil never relent. This was the end for all those she cared for.

  Ulrikt’s voice purred. “Even those taken by Shadow are not beyond saving. Sol will return every last soul. You can save them by obeying his will.”

  She screamed, torn by raging desires. Succumb to the hope of surrender or embrace the rage of a child spurned, to destroy herself and everyone around her so she’d never feel pain again. Tears came to her swollen eyes and her throat ripped raw with flagging breath, and she knew she couldn’t hold the power in stasis much longer, she either needed to unleash its fury or set it free.

  Dareun appeared before her blurred by tears, a ghost lit by the fiery hues surrounding him. He looked into her eyes and shook his head, and
she knew that neither was the way. The mercury and its Spirit was what she needed, not magma nor the nothing of surrender. If she destroyed the island in a wave of Fire, this light with its core of blackness would remain, the Shadows would return, and still she and her friends would be dead. The heat pulsing through her veins and the flames becoming her world were pure destruction.

  Did she find destruction an end, or prefer defeat in creation of the destroying fire defeating? The words of the Touched came to her and she froze. Here, now, the destroying fire was defeating, she’d win a battle while losing a war. What she needed wasn’t victory or defeat, it was escape. She felt the Fire beckoning, and the creatures demanded destruction. She needed to give it to them.

  What she wrought she must unleash, and pray she kept them under control.

  She willed the flames and energies into an incendiary wall around her friends. Taken disintegrated in the blaze of her creation, but she couldn’t hold the te-xe in place without risking her friends. She exhaled a single word, “Incinerate.” The encircling wall of flame blazed into living sparks, with every crackling flicker bent on killing her enemy. The rapture of the Sliver’s power faded, returning her to reality with a rush of loss that drove her to hands and knees. She gasped for breath, chest heaving and drool draining from her lips.

  She raised her eyes to her Master, her vision of his soul fading with the release of the Sliver’s power, but as he disappeared he smiled.

  WHEN SOLINEUS DREW the Twins together for the first time, a rush of whispers and power blurred his vision and a tingling thrill to battle prickled every nerve of his being. The mutter of foreign tongues and the blur of charging shapes shunted every thought from his mind while driving feverish instinct into his muscles and bones. It was the heat of the sun, the tranquility of a spring loaded, potential energy until his eyes cleared and the enemy was on them.