by Tom Lloyd
It took an age to reach the foot of Insar’s throne, or so Lynx felt. He could see little, the blaze of light and sparks and fire more than he could fathom. Only the path beneath his feet seemed real, each step, and the ache for air in his lungs.
Finally, he took a gasping breath as they reached the shallow steps leading up to the throne. More gunfire raced over their heads, more lashes of fire struck back. Atieno found his balance at the bottom step just as Lynx’s strength faltered. Together they made it halfway up before stumbling and falling flat.
The light was blinding. Lynx felt it shine fiercely, penetrating his skull to blaze out through mouth, eyes and tattoos. He crawled blindly on, following a light that now seemed to be all around him, consuming him. With one final effort he hauled Atieno up, tossing him like an offering at Insar’s feet, before falling, as though prostrating himself.
It was no way to attack a god, but it didn’t have to be. Atieno flailed forward and one hand caught Insar’s wide foot. Lynx felt an electric surge run through the room and something burst into glittering dust under Atieno’s hand. His vision swam. Fragments flashed past him, surging towards the half-finished puzzle that was Insar. Their bright streaks left a furrow of light in the air. One clattered against Lynx’s shoulder and instinctively he spread himself forward, trying to shelter Atieno.
Through the mess of movement and light, Lynx could see the shifting puzzle of God Fragments twist and recoil. It was almost as if they fought to escape some invisible cage, wracked with horror and panic but half-paralysed by pain. Insar tried to maintain their body as Atieno destroyed it, fragments sliding down to reform their foot even as others crumbled at Atieno’s touch. The press on Lynx’s ears increased, a silent scream that echoed through his mind then faltered as fragment after fragment fell to dust.
‘Sitain!’ Lynx yelled, not daring to look back.
Above him, Lynx could see Insar shifting, arms smashing drunkenly at the sides of the throne. He risked a look back now, knowing the shock would not last long enough, and shouted again. The first of them to react was Reft. The huge man hoisted Sitain up and raced forward. He shone perfectly white in the blaze of light, a being of terrible vengeance as he drove towards the throne.
Sitain began to really shriek as they neared Insar. Her hands were above her head as Reft held her in front of him, arms outstretched. Lynx had no idea if she knew what she was doing or was simply acting out of terror, but a grey curtain of night magic appeared above them just in time.
The god smashed down with their one good arm and there was an explosion of light. Somehow the shield held, though Reft was driven to his knees. Insar struck again with their other truncated arm, a blade of fire appearing from the unfinished end. Again that burst to nothing on the shield but its next punch crept under the shield and bowled Reft sideways.
Lynx heard a loud crack as Reft and Sitain both fell, but the distraction was enough. Atieno fought his way up, his destroying hands outstretched. Everywhere he touched, pieces of Insar collapsed into sparkling nothingness. Like some terrible plague, Atieno’s hands left ruin across the god’s body. Lynx’s head ached with all the magic released and Insar howled, pinned by the quiet detonations of their body, unable to fight back.
One errant sweep of the arm was caught by Atieno and he carved through it like an axe. The severed limb fell and fragmented, only to be drawn straight into what remained out of some desperate survival instinct. The god wasn’t whole, had not been when they arrived, but Lynx guessed more than two-thirds of their fragments were here in this chamber.
Enough of the god was present that it recognised the danger, but still it was too incomplete to defend itself properly. The fragments continued to crumble, dust raining down and filling the air. Whatever arcane secret Banesh had imbued into the stone tree in the Labyrinth, its full savagery was finally unleashed. Lynx could taste the magic in the air. It filled every part of him, swallowed him whole.
There was a great groaning around them. The grind of stone on stone and the inaudible terror of a being that had thought itself immortal. Atieno continued without hesitation, panting hard as his tattoos burned like the fire of stars. He never let up. In seconds, Lynx could see Insar’s body as a hollow shell, then a patchwork stitched with light. The god slumped back, barely an outline in the encroaching gloom now. The buzz in Lynx’s mind faded, the mind of the god fading steadily to nothingness.
The light dimmed. As the dust fell and the next fragment winked out of existence, the chamber darkened. Soon there was only the heave of Atieno’s aged chest and the soft keening of Sitain, still holding her shield above his head from where she lay on the floor.
Finally, it was done. The light of Insar went out. What part of them remained after Banesh’s assault was gone from this chamber, almost entirely expunged from the whole of Urden. Lynx felt a strange sadness mingle with exhaustion – that ancient mind now gone forever, no doubt only a few scraps of Insar’s awareness remaining anywhere.
‘Reft!’ Deern yelled, racing forward.
Lynx tried to move, tried to go to the big man’s aid, but his body betrayed him. He managed to put one hand on Atieno’s shoulder and the mage almost collapsed underneath the weight. The jolt sent Lynx to his knees and while the Cards ran forward, he could only watch.
Reft had fallen off the raised path, fortunately missing one of the protruding roots as he landed. Deern leaped down beside him, bending low over the pale giant’s head. Lynx saw Reft’s leg move, but he didn’t sit up.
A cold feeling clamped around Lynx’s stomach and he fought his way upright. Others had reached Reft now, Aben, Varain and Estal. Together, they managed to lift him, prompting a moan of pain.
‘Sitain,’ Lynx urged, pushing her forward.
She scrambled down, ungainly and weak but helped by Aben.
‘Fuck,’ Deern croaked, cradling Reft’s head. ‘Hey, look at me! Reft!’
Lynx staggered forward, ushering Sitain on as he did so. There was blood on Reft’s face and his left arm looked broken, probably a rib or two as well. Sitain dulled the pain but even after Reft struggled up to his feet, she shot Lynx a worried look. They eased the pale giant down to sit on the raised pathway, Himbel cutting away his sleeve with a deft few slashes. What was underneath looked ugly and bloodied, but there was little to do beyond set it as best they could.
While the surgeon was working, Lynx went to Atieno, helping the tempest mage to sit up on the steps. The man looked woozy, but nothing more than the expected amount of fatigue.
‘You good?’ Lynx asked as Atieno pushed him away.
‘Good enough.’
‘And it’s done?’ Anatin called from behind Lynx.
‘It is done,’ Atieno confirmed with a heavy nod. ‘A god died here.’
Anatin grunted and cast a look at Reft. ‘Let’s hope it’s just the one death.’
Then the explosion came.
Chapter 39
‘What in the fuck was that?’ Lynx asked in the hush that followed. ‘Should we be running now?’
The echoes of the explosion rumbled on through the mountain depths, felt as much as heard. Even the air in the chamber was disturbed, a sudden gust of stale and sour-smelling wind that stilled again before the boom had finished rolling through the tunnels. The Cards were all frozen into inaction, staring wildly around as they tried to work out what was going on. Even Himbel hesitated in his ministrations, but quickly he went on patching Reft up as best he could.
‘It sounded big rather than very close,’ Safir commented. ‘Might be something else entirely.’
‘The timing wasn’t exactly great though,’ Toil replied. ‘As coincidences go, I like this one as much as a hefty dose o’ crabs.’ She paused. ‘After a few months of hanging round you lot, anything that sounds portentous to the point of lethal is probably our fault.’
Safir scowled. ‘Sure – I’ve always said we were a bad influence on you.’
Toil nodded and moved closer to the strange tree-li
ke throne in the centre of the chamber. ‘Yeah, sweet and innocent until the day I met you lot.’
‘Quite an influence we had,’ Safir mused, working his way around the pillar as though following a scent. ‘Your clothes were off before we’d even clapped eyes on you.’
‘Not to mention the fella she chucked out the window all of a minute later,’ Anatin said. ‘I mean, I’m all for women moving on when a better prospect comes along but that was a bit quick, no?’
‘Also Lynx was that prospect,’ Safir agreed.
‘Hey!’
‘Oh don’t get me wrong, my friend. Were I one for burly and brooding, I have no doubt you would make a fine husband, but you are not famed for first impressions.’
Lynx sniffed. ‘Did all right as I recall.’
‘I don’t count,’ Kas joined in. ‘A few months in the company of just halfwit farmers and this lot impaired my judgement.’
‘Still bloody counts,’ Lynx insisted. ‘So now there’s precedent and everything.’
‘Will you listen to this fucker?’ Anatin laughed. ‘We’ll get him a new card eh? Prince o’ first impressions.’
Toil reached the throne where Atieno panted on the steps. Nearby, Sitain slumped down, her last burst of effort proving so taxing she was too tired to gibber with fear any longer.
‘That was good work, all three of you,’ she said in a more serious voice. ‘You hurt?’
‘Hurt?’ Atieno croaked. He looked up and Toil flinched at the sight. His dark skin, already marked with the white tattoos, was now also shot through with grey veins. They spread out from around his eyes, mouth and ears and each of the tattoos. ‘Hurt doesn’t really cover it.’
‘Shitting gods,’ Lynx croaked. ‘What happened?’
‘I do not know,’ Atieno said, sounding exhausted. ‘But I feel as though I have drawn too much tempest magic.’
‘Can … can you move?’
The mage nodded. ‘I will not slow you up any more than Reft. It hurts, but not like a wound.’
Lynx frowned. ‘What, then?’
‘Every part aches the way my bones do when they are turning to stone. It is a familiar pain, but never before throughout my entire body.’
‘Should you be upright? Talking?’
Atieno blinked at Lynx then turned to the huddled figure at his feet. ‘Pain is no stranger to a mage of tempest, but if you are able, Sitain, I would appreciate some relief.’
Her eyes widened at the idea of channelling more magic, but the young woman didn’t hesitate or argue. Sitain levered herself up using the stone seat beside her – until she realised what she was doing and snatched the hand back. She hastily brushed at it as though some remnant of the dead god was left in the dust there but, as before, there was no trace left of the destroyed God Fragments.
‘Relief?’
‘If you are able.’
‘Um, yeah.’ She squinted as though she wasn’t a night mage and able to see in remarkable detail underground. ‘Not sure I’ve got much left to give.’
‘A little would suffice,’ Atieno said with a weary smile. ‘I would like to leave this place in case someone comes asking for their god.’
Anatin clapped a hand on the shoulders of them both, seemingly delighted at the gasps he caused. ‘Now then, my pretties, that was some damn fine god-slaying you did there. Honestly, aside from the screaming in terror, none of us could tell you were novices at it.’
‘Back off,’ Lynx growled.
‘Go fuck yerself, Lynx,’ Anatin said cheerily. ‘I’m tryin’ to lighten the mood here.’
‘Just give them a few bloody minutes. They’ve just done the impossible – give ’em space.’
‘And we’ve got time fer that, have we?’ Anatin demanded. ‘You sure? Cos they did a damned fine job, but Toil’s right about the timing o’ that explosion. We’re still in hostile ground an’ there’s still a bunch of nutbag soldiers out there who might have some pointed questions for us. But sure – let’s take a minute to reflect, shall we? Let’s suck our own dicks about murdering Insar and all the good we’ve done for the Riven Kingdom. Much better than making sure we survive long enough to make Toil pay us an eye-wateringly large amount of money.’
‘Hey!’ Safir yelled from around the other side of the pillar-throne. ‘Toil, get round here!’
‘What is it?’ Toil called back. ‘We’re busy getting stuck into the most stupid fucking reasons for getting shot by people on your own side. I’m keen to see how this one pans out.’
‘Found something weird,’ Safir said. ‘Reckon it’s your sort o’ thing.’
Toil frowned. ‘The pair of you,’ she said to Anatin and Lynx, ‘just don’t say anything more. We don’t need this right now. Let’s all go see what Safir’s found.’
She shoved Lynx in the right direction, half-dragging him for a few steps until Lynx allowed himself to be led. After that they rounded the pillar and the mood evaporated. Safir was standing at the mouth of some sort of hole four yards wide. One side was straight and steps led down, the rest was rounded and half a dozen of the root formations curled in through it.
‘Some sort of room down there,’ Safir reported.
‘Do we care?’ Anatin asked. ‘We need to be out of here before the Charnelers pull back. I don’t reckon they’ll be winning a straight fight with the Sons.’
‘True,’ Toil agreed. ‘But Safir’s right – this is fucking weird. Insar’s inner sanctum, beyond the throne room itself.’ She paused and seemed to check her bearings. ‘Yeah, Lynx, you had a point too. That curved mage-reinforced wall. We’re above that. This is leading down into it by my reckoning.’
‘So? Just means they had some fortified keep to retreat to, just in case,’ Anatin said. ‘Why are we still here?’
Toil shook her head. ‘What’s the point of being a god if you have to think about hiding?’
‘Remember Jarrazir?’ Lynx added.
‘Aye – the real prize was underneath.’
Toil kept her mage-gun ready, but lost no time in making her way down the steps. It didn’t look like she took great care over it, not given how she usually was in a city-ruin, but if anywhere was beyond needing traps it was here, Lynx figured.
He followed Anatin and Safir down, the rest of the Cards crowding at the top to try and see what they could. Sitain pushed her way to the head of the pack but before she could join them Toil said to stop. She sounded a little awed to Lynx. Not worried, but surprise had taken the wind from her sails.
‘What is it?’ he asked Safir, in front of him.
‘Dunno,’ came the helpful reply, but eventually Toil beckoned them forward.
‘Get Sitain down here,’ she whispered up.
Before long all five of them were standing on a small platform that so far as Lynx could tell was surrounded by black nothingness rather than walls. Even his mage-blessed eyes couldn’t see in perfect dark and the light of the Duegar lanterns seemed to touch nothing but what was underfoot.
‘Is this like that bit of the Labyrinth where the lanterns didn’t work?’ Safir asked.
Toil shook her head. ‘Give it a moment,’ she said as Sitain blinked at their surroundings then gasped.
‘Screaming hells and deepest black!’ the young woman breathed. ‘What is that?’
Lynx and Safir exchanged a look. ‘I can see the last bit,’ Safir murmured, ‘but not the first. You? Staring into the howling void seems rather more your thing than mine.’
Lynx shrugged. ‘Says the fucker who routinely swears vengeance on the gods?’
‘Turns out I wasn’t full of shit though.’ Safir grinned. ‘Even I was starting to wonder, if I’m honest.’
‘Look dammit!’ Sitain hissed. ‘Don’t you see?’
‘I …’ Lynx tried again.
He could feel the open space ahead of him – pitch black but clearly large. It was an enclosed space, no wind, but big enough that their voices made little impact. Finally, he started to get a sense of the space, appearing before
him like a reluctant shadowshard emerging from the dark. There was little enough to see, though, just a faint sense of shape that Lynx half-doubted was even real.
‘I’m seeing a curved wall,’ he said at last, ‘but that might just be my imagination. Are they straight though? I mean up and down? Looks like it narrows as it goes down.’
‘I think you’re right about that,’ Toil agreed, pointing to his right. ‘How about over there?’
The two men squinted. The curve wasn’t regular where she was pointing. Instead, something hung from what Lynx guessed was the centre of this enormous space. He looked down at the stone roots. Those snaked around the platform but also headed in that direction and eventually more shapes resolved themselves. He saw more roots, fat coils of them reaching in from different directions towards a bulbous stone formation in the centre.
‘It’s big,’ Lynx said. ‘Not Labyrinth-big, but …’
‘But what the fuck is it?’ Toil asked, more to herself than anyone else. ‘The tunnel above was curved right? And this was a place of all the gods, not just Insar.’
‘What you are saying?’ Anatin asked.
‘That maybe all of the gods had some sort of sanctum here.’ She pointed to the half-seen root formations. ‘Those look all the same, reaching in from different directions. If there’s one the other side, that would make four. One each for Veraimin, Insar, Ulfer and Catrac.’
‘Doing what?’ Sitain asked. ‘What is that down there?’
‘What’s what?’
Sitain paused. ‘I don’t know quite, but it’s big. The stone roots all come together in a tangle – almost like a cage. Wait, what’s that past it? Is that a light?’
They all followed where she was pointing. It was a strain on their eyes, but now it had been pointed out, Lynx could see some sort of break in the smooth lines of whatever it was they were in.
All of a sudden, she gave a cough of shock and lurched backwards so sharply that Lynx grabbed her to make sure she didn’t keep going off the other side of the platform.
‘What is it?’ Toil demanded.