God of Night

by Tom Lloyd

  ‘So here we are,’ Toil said finally. ‘Who’s up for a little lock-picking?’

  There were three dials set into each door. A hand-span across, each was marked with symbols Lynx didn’t recognise, and had something like a keyhole in the centre. They didn’t seem to be Duegar glyphs or any language Lynx had seen written down. He caught Toil glance at Atieno and Aben, but both shook their heads – clearly not recognising the characters either.

  ‘Don’t you have some little ancient artefact for the job?’ Anatin asked.

  She snorted and made a show of patting her pockets in turn. ‘Dammit, I knew there was something I should have packed!’

  ‘Ain’t this your fucking job, Toil? Breaking into shit like this?’

  ‘This is the most secure vault in the Riven Kingdom!’ she protested. ‘Surrounded by Duegar-worked rock. I can’t cut through like we did back in Siquil. Not anything like as quickly, anyway.’

  ‘What in the stinking piss are we doing here then?’ Anatain demanded. ‘What’s the plan? To knock and ask nicely?’

  ‘Reckon I’ll just blow the bloody doors off, actually.’ Toil grinned and extracted one of Atieno’s dark-bolts from her cartridge case. She loaded it into her mage-gun and took aim at the doors. ‘You know my motto by now. Fuck subtlety.’

  Chapter 38

  ‘How much of a tit do you look right now?’

  Toil didn’t answer. She was still staring at the bronze vault doors. They had conspicuously failed to collapse into grey dust the way everything else had when hit by a dark-bolt. The only difference was the markings were glowing a slightly brighter white.

  ‘It was a good line, I’ll give her that,’ commented Estal. ‘It could’ve been pretty damn cool. Shame.’

  ‘All mouth and no trousers,’ added Deern. ‘I’ve always said.’

  ‘You say that about all women though,’ Estal replied. ‘Your grasp o’ basic anatomy has got you in trouble before.’

  Toil cleared her throat as best she could. It was a croaked sound but it silenced the muttering Cards who knew not to push their luck too far.

  ‘Atieno?’ she said, coughing briefly. ‘Thoughts?’

  There was dust in the air still, the dark magic had worked its terrible effects on the walls and floor of the cloister-hall, but spread over a large space the results had been superficial. Still the Cards had scrambled away, diving for cover as a wavering cloud of dark magic hung over the doors before being spat back.

  ‘There are mages within,’ Atieno concluded. ‘Flooding the gates with magic. They must have deflected the power of your shot.’

  ‘And you didn’t think to tell me that beforehand?’ Toil inquired in a cold tone. ‘Before I lost my aura of wassaname in front of the rank and file?’

  ‘Aye, akin to worship up until this point,’ Payl commented, stepping up beside her. ‘So, our fading goddess, no pissing around, eh? You’ve got a plan B in that nasty little mind of yours I assume?’

  ‘It’s a vast amount of magic they’ve used,’ Toil mused. ‘Surely they can’t keep that up for long. In case things go badly for the Sons of the Wind, I’d prefer the smash and grab option over being clever.’

  ‘No Paranil or Lastani,’ Payl agreed. ‘That sets us back a bit brains-wise.’

  ‘No mage could channel that much for long, it is true,’ Atieno said. ‘No mage could manage it normally of course – but they do have more God Fragments than they know what to do with in there.’

  ‘And they’re probably the most experienced users of the things alive today,’ Toil added glumly. ‘Plus we don’t have many dark-bolts to waste. With them primed to ward off any magic, Sitain’s unlikely to put them down either.’

  ‘What then?’

  Toil stared at the doors a little longer then sat abruptly on the floor and closed her eyes. The Cards all looked at her with startlement. Even Lynx wondered if she’d gone mad, but no one wanted to interrupt her. Instead, Anatin sent Safir with his troops back down the tunnels to watch for pursuers. Lynx started to briefly scout the fringes of the cloister, but there was little enough to discover there and certainly nothing useful like a back door or air vent.

  ‘Magic!’ Toil suddenly announced. ‘Atieno – if they’re getting ready to defend another attack, they would draw in all the power they could, right?’

  ‘I … yes, of course,’ the man replied, a little puzzled.

  ‘How carefully?’

  ‘They will have decades of experience each – carefully enough.’

  Toil grinned. ‘Under normal circumstances, sure, but this ain’t normal.’

  Payl growled from nearby. ‘We were wondering when you’d notice that.’

  ‘Shut up, I’m having a thought here,’ Toil said, raising a finger. ‘You’ve got a God Fragment in your hot and sticky fingers, Atieno, and you know someone’s going to hammer at the door or wall with huge amounts of power. You’re going to draw hard and focus that energy through the fragment, no? Sculpt it into a shield or something. Or do you draw the power directly from the fragment?’

  ‘The fragment is not exactly magic incarnate – not for what you mean here, anyway.’

  ‘So you’re pulling it in from wherever?’

  Atieno nodded.

  ‘And they’ve got the advantage here, so we need to surprise ’em,’ Toil continued. ‘Fortunately, we do have a surprise or two up our sleeves.’

  She outlined her plan. Atieno looked sceptical by the end but he conceded the logic was not so outlandish that it wasn’t worth a try. Or at least, it was better than a total lack of a plan. Quickly she arranged the company – a knot of them around the vault door with a suit at the sides and rear facing outward. There was a space left away to the right-hand side and once she had everyone in place, Toil loaded an earther into her gun, as did Reft and Varain.

  ‘Ready, Atieno?’

  The tempest mage got stiffly to his knees at the base of the doors. There Toil had arranged a pile of God Fragments. While the Sons of the Wind had destroyed a large number after the ambush, they didn’t know the Cards already had a stash. The Archelect of Su Dregir had kept back just three of their share from the Jarraziran hoard, allowing Toil to bring the rest this way and use as she saw fit. It was an advantage she’d not known how to use, but anything the enemy weren’t expecting had to be worth holding on to. Few rulers would have permitted it, but once the Archelect had approved their mission there was no point holding back.

  ‘Ready,’ Atieno confirmed, a certain reluctance in his voice.

  ‘Sitain?’

  The young woman crouched near Atieno, one hand raised and ready to ward off any magics that came their way. She nodded so Toil pointed to one side of the door where a hinge might be expected to be located and counted down Reft and Varain.

  All three fired together and Lynx saw the kick of the earthers drive Toil and Varain back a step. In the same instance Atieno ran his hands across each of the God Fragments, eight in all, and they collapsed into dust. The power of the earthers struck the vault door and was again deflected away in a burst of magic. At the same time the air seemed to light up around Lynx. He could only keep one eye on what was going on, but the massive doors now blazed in the half-light of the Duegar lanterns.

  Colours burst on the edge of eyesight as some other force of magic roughly diverted the earthers away. The dark streams burst across each other and struck the stonework off to the side with the force of a tsunami, but somehow it held. A scream of tortured and shuddering stone raged out across the cloister. The ferocious surge of earth-magic boomed against Duegar-reinforced rock. Frustrated in its efforts, the power swept on down the wall, tearing into any small fissure it could find, before finally hurling itself against a decorative pillar that exploded under the impact.

  Lynx saw his tattoos blaze white. The Marked Cards illuminated an elusive rainbow of power and colours sloshing over the vault door as the magic bound inside the God Fragments was released in an intoxicating burst. Alien flavours appeared
on his tongue. Strange unknown voices seemed to echo all around and his very bones ached at the shocking flood of power that filled everything. The heavy vault doors shook and trembled under it – or so it seemed to Lynx – as the air and rock were both assailed.

  Crouching behind Atieno, Sitain floundered drunkenly. Her limbs looked barely under control but then she gathered herself. Lynx found himself staggering towards her as she drew on her magic, so ferocious was her hauling of power. With a shriek that was as much terror as triumph, Sitain punched the magic forward.

  It was like a gale had suddenly entered the deep hall, but one that ended as swiftly as it appeared. It left only gasping, bewildered mercenaries in its wake.

  For a while there was silence. No one dared to move as the last vestiges of magic played over the door then faded.

  ‘Did it work?’ Lynx asked hesitantly.

  Toil glanced back at him then waved the rest away from the door. ‘Only one way to find out.’

  She loaded one of their precious remaining darkers into her mage-gun as the rest scurried clear. From ten yards away Toil took aim at the wheel-lock nearest the centre and fired. Lynx flinched as the air seemed to fracture, the light stuttering as dark magic burst over the metal.

  Even with his improved eyesight Lynx could barely watch what happened. The explosion of darkness drank in even the strange blue half-light of the Duegar lanterns. Through wincing eyes he saw the doors buckle, the metal contort then vanish. Power burst unevenly over the metal but worms of dark magic reached out beyond the impact point and where they touched, the metal collapsed into dust. The damage spread with hungry fingers.

  The vault doors, thick and heavy, were no match for Atieno’s terrible creation. Something inside the lock mechanism screeched and burst into ear-splitting cracks, flashes of white light erupting from inside it. More burst out from the other locks as the tendrils of magic spread to the others. As the power finally burned itself out there was only the hush of dust falling from the ruined doors and the tinkle of falling metal.

  Whatever mechanism worked the lock, it was well and truly ruined. Toil still moved away from the gently failing doors rather than investigate her handiwork. Lynx realised she didn’t want to get too close, not yet. Instead, Toil put a hand on Sitain’s shoulder and nudged her forward. The young woman blinked at Toil for a few seconds, but eventually her wits returned. With almost a casual gesture she sent night magic surging through.

  The Cards closed on both sides of the half-ruined doors, Toil leading on one side and Safir on the other.

  ‘Hello!’ Safir called with a lunatic grin on his face. ‘Anyone in there? Can we to talk to you about our lord and saviour, Insar?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Layir muttered, ‘did you know he’s a prick?’

  ‘Also literally right inside the door,’ someone pointed out. ‘Most of him anyway.’

  Safir gave the door an experimental kick. It shuddered and lurched but didn’t quite give way so Safir backed off and put an earther through the now-unwarded metal.

  He blew a section of the door clean off and it flew open but, as it did, an icer flashed out through the open doorway. As the Cards scrabbled back, a second shot rang out. This time a sparker that caught the edge of the remaining door and exploded all around it.

  ‘Fuck!’ Toil yelled, shielding her eyes from the burst of light even as she fired blind through the gap.

  Her own sparker roared into the room beyond and burst against something. Lynx could see the flashes reflect on the rock beyond and heard a brief cry. After that there was abrupt silence.

  ‘We’re coming in,’ Toil shouted after a long pause. ‘No one else has to die – we’re not here to steal the fragments.’

  Her words elicited no response, but no gunshots either.

  ‘Shoot me and the others will fill the room with bloody grenades,’ Toil added. ‘You’ll burn, there’ll be no place to hide.’

  Again there was no response. Toil shrugged and was just about to step forward when Lynx caught her arm. He shook his head and stepped in front of her.

  ‘Really?’ she hissed. ‘Now’s the time for chivalry?’

  ‘Fuck off,’ he said out of the side of his mouth. ‘Your job ain’t finished here. Best you don’t step into the firing line.’

  Without waiting for her to respond, Lynx stepped into the breach. Robed and uniformed figures lay on the ground, all broken or magic-burned. He didn’t need to check whether they were dead, the injuries were too severe. Ignoring the stink of death, Lynx squinted at the room beyond. It was large – bigger than he’d expected even amid all this, with a curious organic flow to the stonework. The room appeared oval with rounded edges to the walls – fifty yards across and almost as many high with a single great pillar dominating the room. A handful of white mage-spheres lit one side, casting strange shadows off ridges that ran like roots from the pillar to the walls.

  A raised stone path led up to the pillar where a walkway ran all around, both path and walkway edged in glowing veins of white, red and yellow. Glyphs marked every surface, some faintly shining, others dull. The result was a brighter room than outside, but so much detail had been carved into the stone it was hard to make out any one part properly.

  Belatedly, Lynx spotted a figure watching him from near the light spheres. They had a gun but looked far from certain about it. The figure saw him and called out in one of the northern languages.

  Lynx shrugged.

  ‘Who are you?’ the figure said again, this time in Parthish. They gingerly picked their way over one knee-high stone root, wearing some sort of Charneler uniform but not a soldier’s. ‘You are not Order. How did you break the doors?’

  ‘Nope,’ Lynx confirmed, as though the lack of uniform wasn’t enough of a clue. ‘I’m … Ah, well you won’t have heard of us.’

  ‘Why are you here?’

  They come to kill, boomed a voice in Lynx’s ears.

  He gave a start as a new light flashed into life – this time as bright as a bonfire. At the pillar, once the darkest part of the room, there appeared a figure of light. Built into the body of the pillar was a throne-like depression and there it sat, suddenly shining bright. Insar, God of the Night and Stars himself – itself, Lynx realised, for this was not and had never been a man.

  His ears filled with a crazed buzzing sound, a distant cacophony that beat against his ears. After weeks of carrying God Fragments in his pack Lynx had grown used to the sound, even if here it was so much louder. Insar was large, much taller than Lynx but also broader, with long limbs. That was as much as Lynx could tell really.

  The god’s body, or what there was of it, was composed of shining God Fragments that made it hard to make out more. Every part of Insar shone, but it was a shifting light that revealed holes and flaws. One forearm seemed to be missing, their torso lumpen and incomplete.

  The god shifted on their seat, sat forward as though to get a better look at him, though Lynx could see no eyes in that fractured head. The God Fragments slid and turned like a half-finished puzzle, a collection of stones that would not quite hold together.

  ‘Can’t kill what’s already dead!’ shouted Safir, rounding the corner. ‘You’re just too fucking stupid to realise it.’

  Before the last Charneler there could react, Safir had fired a darker at Insar’s head. The searing black stream of power struck Insar full in whatever half-discernible face they had. The god was rocked back as shining fragments exploded out and clattered around the chamber. Lynx gaped as what was left slumped in their throne, the light dimming as the Charneler howled.

  The man raised his gun once more, this time to kill Safir, but Atieno was ready for him. By the time the trigger was pulled, a grey-blue shield had filled the air. The gunshot burst harmlessly over it but then a greater explosion came and Atieno was rocked back.

  Through the haze Lynx saw it coming. A roar seemed to erupt directly into Lynx’s mind as the headless god whipped one broad arm forward. Fire swept across the room. Atieno
’s shield saved them but the effort was enough to drive the mage to his knees. The shield winked out again and Toil fired an earther at Insar. It only made the fragments of their body shudder and clatter around, madly rearranging themselves. A lash of lightning struck back but Sitain was there, shrieking in terror even as she saved their lives.

  Someone else fired a dark-bolt, Lynx didn’t see who. It struck the god in its broad torso and again God Fragments burst like shrapnel around the room. The pieces tore furrows in the rock. One struck the Charneler and folded him up while more hit Sitain’s shield and stuck fast for a few moments before they dropped to the ground.

  Lynx stared around at the pieces of the god that had scattered. Again. Insar was thrown back by the power of the dark-bolts. Already the pieces of their head were rolling back to the centre of the room, drawn by the presence of the rest. He looked back at Atieno. The ageing mage was still on his knees beside Toil.

  Fuck.

  Lynx charged forward while more of the Cards fired whatever they had to spare at the god, to little appreciable effect. He tucked an arm around Atieno’s chest and barrelled on, half-carrying the mage with him. Tempest magic burst around them as Atieno groaned and tried to regain his feet properly, but Lynx didn’t give him time. To Lynx’s horror, white-grey threads appeared on his hand, creeping out from the blazing white willow tattoos there. There was a searing pain in his head. His teeth ached like he was chewing ice, but Lynx couldn’t have stopped if he tried. Terror drove him on. For once, the fear of death and dark places lent strength to his limbs.

  Somehow he fought his way forward, gunfire ringing out as the light of the god burned like a beacon. Distantly, Lynx noticed a haze appear around them, Atieno restoring his shield in a desperate bid to survive. Step after step they went, once rocked sideways by a hammer-blow of lightning but somehow the shield took it.