God of Magic 7

by Logan Jacobs

  “I suppose,” I admitted as I pulled the elf closer. “So what’s on the menu for tonight?”

  “Deke’s girlfriend has some seafood pies that are supposed to be the best in the world, according to Deke,” Lena responded.

  “Sounds perfect,” I laughed. “Especially if it has some alligator in there.”

  “I’m not sure I’d want to eat one of those dark magic alligators,” Lena said. “It would probably give you heartburn and a few other unpleasant symptoms.”

  “Then I guess we’ll just have to make do with shrimp and crawfish again,” I replied as I leaned in and stole a kiss.

  Lena grinned when I finally released her, and then she sashayed back towards Deke’s store. I followed behind and wondered if Deke had any other private rooms available.

  Chapter 7

  The seafood pies were as delicious as promised, and the smell even roused Cat. We spent the night with Deke, his girlfriend, and the other campers, retelling the story of our encounter with the swamp witch. No one really seemed to know anything about her or her family, though the most popular suggestion was that she was the last surviving member of a clan of witches who had gone to war with the Academy.

  Merlin returned in time to enjoy some catfish and smoked oysters, along with a smelly hunk of cheese from Maruk’s personal stash. Maruk was deeply offended by the theft of his small batch of blue cheese and threatened to geld the puca, though the rest of us secretly gave Merlin whatever treats we could find for putting an end to the obnoxious odor.

  Merlin had spotted the mages who were pursuing us, but they had stuck to the road rather than try to follow our path across the Martian landscape and into the Glass Swamp. Emeline consulted her maps and quickly assured me that we still had a nice lead on the mages, and a more direct route to Augustine.

  By morning, the Shadow Foxes were ready to travel again. Cat looked positively spry, and Dehn was his usual scruffy, surly self. Deke supplied us with dried fish to eat and vanilla beans to trade, and even a slab of local cheese to replace the one stolen by Merlin. Maruk thanked Deke in a very gentlemanly manner though I saw him eye the cheese skeptically. When Deke turned to assist Lena with some herbs, Maruk broke off a small piece to taste. I saw surprise and then delight pass over the orc’s face, and he quickly dropped the cheese into his pack.

  “What’s next?” I asked as we started along a well-worn road away from the swamp.

  “There’s a mountain range called the Paratons,” Emeline replied. “The good news is that we can just stay on this road, and it will take us on a pass through the mountains.”

  “And the bad news?” I asked.

  “It’s very wet on the other side,” Emeline hedged.

  “What does that mean?” I prodded.

  “The Paratons serve as a barrier of sorts,” Cat explained. “The normal weather patterns here carry everything in a mostly east to west direction, but the Paratons are tall enough to block a lot of the winds and clouds. So it just hovers on the far side of the Paratons.”

  “And what does it do while it hovers on the far side of the Paratons?” Imogen asked suspiciously.

  “It drops a lot of rain,” Cat admitted.

  “From parched to flooded,” Maruk sighed. “Why, what could be more natural.”

  “The Great Chasm is just beyond that,” Emeline replied. “The rain forest is sort of on the edge.”

  “We really are getting close, then,” I mused.

  “Ha!” Dehn suddenly declared. “No one in my family has ever traveled this far. I’ll have Cousin Shlomo beat by at least a thousand miles.”

  “Don’t ask,” Lavinia hissed at me when I opened my mouth.

  “Who’s Cousin Shlomo?” Lena asked which provoked a punch to the arm from Lavinia.

  And so it was that we learned about the lifelong travels of Shlomo Mek, professional boxer, traveling salesman, and one-time paramour of the Duchess of Falsburg, who, Yvaine agreed, had a thing for short men. It certainly helped pass the time, especially when Dehn started describing Shlomo’s short-lived attempt to take up polo. He was eventually banned by the local polo society after he bashed an opposing player in the head with a mallet for winking at the Duchess. The man had insisted that his wink had been aimed at his wife, who had been seated next to the Duchess, but Shlomo had been unconvinced.

  Even Lavinia was in a good mood when we found ourselves at the next round of mountains. The Paratons reminded me of those strange mountains in Chinese artwork. They were very tall, but strangely slender compared to the mountains I knew. There was no pointed peak with the rest of the mountain spreading away or sharp ridgelines like the peaks in Yosemite. They were just these tall towers, wreathed in clouds, with a long river that curved in between and narrow valleys that were lost in shadow for much of the day.

  Emeline was right when she said this would be an easier traverse than the Canterrose. The road we were on followed the valleys between the mountains and was surprisingly flat. There was little climbing required as the road meandered through ancient gaps and followed alongside a crystal clear river.

  What was startling was to realize how tall these mountains were. When you were in the middle of the range, it was hard to see the tops. If you looked straight up, all you saw was hard granite that bled into swirling clouds. If you tried to look into the distance, your line of sight was cut short by one of the great columns.

  The weather changed as well. Whereas the western side of the Paratons had been hot and dry, the air in the valleys was cooler and wetter. Sometimes a great burst of wind would blow down from the peaks, bringing the smell of snow and fir trees, but the valleys themselves remained pleasant. There were few trees but grasses and shrubbery dotted the landscape. Birds and small animals darted among the plants, rarely seen, though their rustling certainly drew Merlin’s attention.

  “Are you sure you want to risk it after the sea gremlins?” I asked the puca as his nose twitched. Merlin swished his tail at me, a warning that he didn’t want to be reminded of how close he had come to heaving up his dinner that night. Sea gremlins, it turned out, were not a puca’s best friend.

  As we neared the other side of the Paratons, the gaps widened, the valleys spread out more, and it was easier to see how the winds and the rains were hung up on the great peaks.

  It looked like one of those old black and white pictures where they tried to stuff as many people as they could into a phone booth. The clouds were stacked up against the Paratons with no way over and though the strange shapes of the mountains made it easy enough for people on the ground to pass through, the jagged pattern of the peaks served as a trap for the clouds and the rain they carried.

  And there was a lot of rain. From the moment we cleared the last of the mountains, it started. Gently, at first, just a fine misting that made everything a little damp, but it quickly turned into a heavy downpour that turned the road into mud and threatened to wash away more than one Shadow Fox.

  “There’s an old temple just ahead,” Cat yelled over the sound of the rain beating down on everything. “We can wait out the storm there.”

  “Does that mean it isn’t always like this?” Yvaine asked hopefully. “Might there actually be a time when it isn’t raining?”

  “Balls,” Dehn grumbled. “I never thought I’d miss the desert.”

  “Or the camels,” Lavinia added.

  “To be dry again,” Maruk moaned. “I was never this wet on any ship.”

  “At least we don’t have to worry about sea gremlins out here,” Aerin pointed out.

  “It certainly seems wet enough for them,” I replied. “Or at least some forest dwelling relative of theirs.”

  “Don’t say things like that,” Aerin protested as she scanned the local plant life for any gremlin like creatures.

  “I guess this is the temple,” Imogen said in quiet awe.

  It had probably been a massive complex at one time, but now there were just a few stone buildings still standing. The main structure w
as a long, narrow edifice topped with honeycomb shaped towers at regular intervals. Vines crept up the walls and a large banyan tree had subsumed one end. Doors and windows were long gone, and the carvings that must have once covered every inch of the walls had been smoothed and weathered until they looked like little more than random wavy lines left by nature.

  Emeline sent up a mage light as soon as she stepped inside the temple. The ash colored walls took on a warmer honey color, and I could see that the carvings inside the temple had fared better. There were elves and humans and even a few ladonae, as well as an encyclopedic display of animals and plants.

  We made our way deeper into the building, where the roof still provided cover and the walls kept out the rain and the wind. Merlin dropped from my shoulder and gave himself a good shake, sending water droplets in every direction. When we started to protest, he gave us a raspberry and trotted towards a scuffling noise.

  “Who built this?” Lena asked as she ran a hand over one of the carvings.

  “Not sure,” Cat replied. “There are some similar carvings in the temples in Chilgosh, but the buildings don’t look at all the same.”

  “So do people live in the rainforest?” Lavinia asked suspiciously as she peered around the hall.

  We came to a halt near the middle of the long, narrow hall. The mage light showed a bare building; anything of value had long since been stripped and carried away. Plants had crept inside and started to reclaim the structure, including the banyan tree I’d seen outside. There was a stone altar at one end with a tree and some sort of script carved into the front but there were no other signs of the temple’s purpose.

  “There are some tribes,” Cat replied as he found a dry place to sit down. “But none of them claim this place.”

  The rest of us began to drop our gear and look for a place to rest as well. Lena ventured towards the altar, her eyes tracing the line of carvings in the wall as she moved towards the far end of the room. I thought about following her, given her tendency to wander into trouble, but Merlin appeared and walked beside her while he sniffed at the ground.

  “It’s amazing,” Lena said breathlessly as she leaned in closer to examine one of the lines of script on the altar.

  “It is, isn’t it?” an unfamiliar voice replied.

  We all instantly stood up with our weapons at the ready, except for Lena, who turned around and smiled in the direction of the voice. Merlin fluffed up like a startled cat and peered at the intruder from a spot behind Lena.

  “Hello,” Lena said. “I’m Magdalena Amengual, but my friends call me Lena.”

  A tall man clothed in a musty mage robe stepped from the shadows. He wore his graying hair in a man bun and his beard in a braid. He had pale blue eyes set in a square face and the body of a wrestler. He moved with a limp as he walked towards the aisle, and I could see his left foot pointed outward as he moved.

  “And are these your friends?” he asked as he looked us over.

  “They are,” Lena replied. “We’re the Shadow Foxes. We’re a guild from Ovrista.”

  “Ovrista?” the man repeated, and I could tell that he had become more alert. “You’re a long way from home.”

  “We’re on a quest,” Lena said. “We’re heading towards the Great Chasm.”

  “And what do you intend to do at the Great Chasm?” the man asked.

  “Before we tell you anything else, maybe you should tell us your name,” Lavinia cut in.

  She had three arrows nocked and ready to fire but the mage didn’t appear afraid. He evaluated her stance and position, just as any warrior would.

  “My name is Rheinhold Gilstrap,” the man said as he came to a stop in front of Lena.

  “That’s a nice name,” Lena replied.

  Dehn suddenly coughed, and Aerin cleared her throat.

  “Rheinhold Gilstrap,” Emmeline murmured as a frown creased her brow.

  “You’re a guild?” Gilstrap mused as he looked us over again. “You’re certainly the oddest looking guild I’ve ever seen, unless the guilds have become more… open since I left.”

  “We look for new members based on ability,” I replied.

  “Good for you,” Gilstrap said. “I always thought the traditional guild rules were too limiting. Though I must say, I’m surprised to see an orc.”

  “And why is that?” Maruk asked.

  “Most orcs I’ve ever met are very clan oriented,” Gilstrap replied. “It’s hard to imagine one ever leaving. Unless something happened to your clan. If it did, I apologize. I didn’t mean to sound uncaring.”

  “I chose to break away from the traditional orc establishment,” Maruk sniffed.

  “Good for you,” Gilstrap cheered.

  “You know a lot about Ovrista,” Imogen stated. “You spent time there. As a mage.”

  “Clearly,” the man said as he looked down at his robe.

  “What are you doing out here?” Lena asked. She sounded genuinely curious and not the least bit alarmed.

  “Let’s say Ovrista became uncomfortable for me,” Gilstrap replied.

  “There’s a lot of that going around,” Dehn grumbled.

  “It’s hard to imagine what could drive a mage from Ovrista, of all places,” Yvaine declared.

  “And yet you have two in your party and a healer as well,” Gilstrap said with a shrug.

  “You can see that?” Lena asked before anyone could deny it.

  I opened my mana and studied Gilstrap. His mana was green, as a water mage should be. There was no shifting patterns, as a mage who has learned multiple elements would have, and no blue of a manipulator. Still, I’d learned not to trust that initial look, and I kept my mana open to see if anything else shone through.

  “I’ve learned to read people,” Gilstrap explained. “The way they carry themselves, the way they talk, the way they react. I know you’re an alchemist, probably from Morelia. You like things that are rare and unusual and you spend most of your time in your lab trying to create things that are rare and unusual.”

  “That’s hardly a mystery,” Lavinia laughed. “The woman walks around in a cloud half the time, talking about her next great potion.”

  “Your party also includes a professional thief,” Gilstrap continued as he looked at Imogen, “as well as someone who used to be in the city guard. A member of the Constello family, which I readily admit is also puzzling, and one of the descendents of the first elves. And then there’s the puca.”

  Merlin hissed and swished his tail.

  “Okay,” I said, “So you’ve got us figured out. Why don’t you tell us more about yourself? Like, why did you leave Ovrista and come here.”

  “As I said, Ovrista became uncomfortable,” Gilstrap replied.

  “I think we’ll need a little more information,” Dehn huffed. “How do we know we can trust you?”

  “You don’t,” Gilstrap stated. “Just as I don’t know that I can trust you. But I’ve chosen to honor the rules of this temple and I have not attacked you nor will I except in self-defense.”

  “What rules of the temple?” Cat finally spoke up. “This place has been abandoned for centuries.”

  “But there is still information about it and the people who built it if you know where to look,” Gilstrap sighed. “I found an entire book about the people who once lived here in the Academy library once. And the tribes who still live nearby have lore that has been passed down from generation to generation, much of it about the first people to settle in this forest.”

  “Will you tell us about them?” Lena asked. “They must have been brilliant to build such a place as this.”

  “I’m glad you can see the beauty in it,” Gilstrap replied with a smile. “Most only see a building on the verge of collapse.”

  “Oh, that won’t happen for a very long time,” Lena declared as she looked around the building. “It was built to endure.”

  “That it was,” Gilstrap agreed.

  “Enough with the architectural dissertation,” Lavinia
interrupted. “Since we’re apparently all staying here for the time being, I’m going to dry off and have something hot to drink. You two can go hold your discussion over there.”

  “Tea sounds good,” Yvaine agreed. “And Maruk has some cheese from Deke that we could enjoy.”

  “And we have a few pears left,” Aerin added.

  “Why don’t you join us?” Lena offered.

  “I wouldn’t want to impose,” Gilstrap protested.

  “You’ve already done that,” Dehn groused.

  “We could talk,” I suggested. “We could fill you in on events in Ovrista, if you like.”

  Gilstrap considered our group and then nodded.

  Maruk began to set up his tea set while the rest of us tried to dry off as best we could. Emeline managed to start a small fire with some dry wood that Gilstrap supplied, and the place was soon cozy and warm.

  “Wait!” Emeline suddenly cried out. “I know that name. Rheinhold Gilstrap. You were… are a water mage. You taught classes at the Academy sometimes. But you disappeared, like, two years ago. They said you’d been killed by pirates. Sorry, Maruk.”

  “They are what they are,” Maruk replied with a shrug as he passed around mugs of steaming hot tea.

  “As you can see, the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” Gilstrap replied. “Though I was on a ship leaving Ovrista, and we were indeed attacked by pirates.”

  “How did you end up here?” Aerin asked as she looked around the ruined temple.

  “And why?” Imogen added as she sipped her tea.

  “May I ask how you feel about the Academy?” Gilstrap inquired as he sniffed at the tea that Maruk handed him.

  The Shadow Foxes exchanged uneasy glances. Technically, we were beyond the reach of the Academy, but I suspected that the Academy wasn’t above a little illegal maneuvering to get what they wanted. And despite the off-the-maps feel of this place, that didn’t mean Gilstrap had zero communication with the Tower. Not to mention Maderel’s manipulators who were still on our trail. Gilstrap might be an ordinary water mage after all, but he could just as easily have tossed his lot in with them.