The Gods' Games Volume 1 & 2: Graphic Edition (The Gods' Games Series)

by Quil Carter

  Nyte’s jaw tightened. “Something is… different. I have decided that we will no longer be following the prophecies.”

  This surprised Erick. “We won’t? I mean… we have a choice? I thought we had to no matter what.”

  Nyte stared into the flames of the fire, his pale face firm and unmoving and without any emotion. Though in a way, Erick was seeing more emotion in the kessiik than he ever had before. It seemed to fill the room with apprehension and the feeling like Erick was walking along a thin blade.

  “We’re breaking into Xalis and Darsheive’s tower tonight, Erick,” Nyte said in a low tone. “We’re reading the prophecies in the book Kelakheva brought to them. We’re going to find out what they’re hiding.”

  Erick’s mouth dropped open and to his left Sweeny’s did as well. The two of them stared at Nyte with identical shocked faces.

  Then, to Erick’s shock, Sweeny spoke. “Why… why are you helping him? Helping Alcove?” his meek voice suddenly sounded. The squire looked at Nyte with a confused expression, his hands clasped around the silver pitcher. “You – you’re a kessiik, a wraith mage. What’s in it for you? You watched as Erick burned the Pyre. I… I saw you. You didn’t care of destruction then. Why now?”

  Sweeny cowered under Nyte’s piercing gaze, like a flower suddenly exposed to flames, he wilted and slunk back into the dark shadows.

  “Step forward, Sweeny Taunel,” Nyte said.

  Just as quickly as he had found it, Sweeny lost his new-found nerve. He stared at his silk shoes and stepped forward; the rattling of his rings against the silver pitcher starting to sound.

  “You ask, what is in it for me? You expect me to answer what in return? Gold? Power? To be renowned?”

  Sweeny was silent but cowered down further when the kessiik started walking towards him. When he was standing in front of the squire, Nyte raised a clawed hand and placed it on Sweeny’s chin. He tipped the chin up so Sweeny was looking at him.

  There was a clang as the silver pitcher Sweeny was holding dropped from his hand, spilling its crimson contents onto the floor and around their feet, though Nyte did not break his gaze.

  “When the chessboard is on fire… the last thing on your mind should be winning the game,” Nyte said quietly, then he removed his hand from Sweeny’s chin.

  He started walking towards the door. “Both of you do not leave the protection of the chambers. I will return.”

  Once Nyte had left, Erick stared at the chamber door for quite some time. He was only shaken from his transfixed gaze by the clattering of metal as Sweeny cleaned up the spilled pitcher.

  “Do you think I’m right to trust him?” Erick asked, his eyes lost but staring; his chest aching from it clenching around his thrashing heart. Why he hadn’t fallen to the floor from the overpowering information that had been thrown at him he didn’t know.

  Sweeny placed the pitcher on an oak credenza by the balcony doors.

  “I don’t think we have a choice, Your Grace,” was the squire’s timid reply.

  But then Sweeny paused, his clawed hands wringing with his anxiety. A small pink tongue appeared that looked like it was being bitten.

  Hibrids always bite their tongues when stressed – I had once found it endearing and cute when I saw him do it, Erick thought dully to himself.

  “I just want you to know–” Sweeny took in a deep breath. “Even… even if you’re… I mean, I know…” the squire stumbled, his eyes found his shoes again. “You’re still my king. I’m still your squire, right?”

  Erick looked at Sweeny. A thousand thoughts raping his mind and here was this loyal hibrid wanting reassurance. Bu with what had happened between them before Nyte had interrupted them… perhaps Sweeny had a reason to be seeking such comfort.

  They had almost… taken steps forward that the two of them couldn’t take back.

  And after I had been so cruel to him at times too… Erick thought to himself, and maybe that was what fuelled the next question.

  “You asked Nyte what was in it for him,” Erick whispered to Sweeny. “Now your king asks of you… what’s in it for you? You know I was nothing but a tricked pawn to two dark gods.”

  Sweeny picked up Erick’s goblet and placed it beside the pitcher.

  “Unless you’re deeply stressed… you’re nice to me, even though I’m just a bonafide slave, nicer than King Calin ever was,” Sweeny replied in such a small voice it was barely audible. “I – I like you. Not as a king… I like you as Erick, m-my king.”

  Erick stared at him, and bore witness to the squire’s ears start to redden and his feet start to shift uncomfortably.

  And for a moment all Erick could do was stare, his ravaged mind swirling and his chest hurting, before he said simply back:

  “I like you too.”

  35

  Ben flicked his fingers across his palm. There was still nothing, but he swore he got a bit of smoke an hour ago.

  The wind must be blowing it out – Yes, that was it.

  There was a crunch of twigs as Teal jumped down beside him, his feet bare from climbing up the tree to get a better idea as to where they were.

  Teal wiped the sweat from his brow. “A few hours, the canyon is in view. Another hour and we’ll have even sparser woods if you can believe it.”

  “Finally, you might be a forest feral, but I’m a plains elf myself,” Malagant said. He was tending to the horses on the side of the grassy trail. The once sparse patches of winter grass had turned into thick paths that lined the road like the fur trim on a cloak. The horses had been loving it. “Too many elves can sneak up on us with all these trees around, even on the trappers’ trail.”

  Ben flicked his fingers across his palm again, trying to focus his thoughts on it, but there was still nothing.

  “You’ll get it.” Teal gave him a reassuring smile as he put his boots back on. “There’s so much more I can teach you. Once you get the hang of the first trick, the rest will follow. Everyone has to hone their own technique, find their own way to make it work.”

  “Maybe my humanness is preventing me from learning,” Ben grumbled. He gave his horse a pat on the nose; it was munching happily on a carrot Malagant had just given it.

  “Nah, the demigod wouldn’t be that cruel,” Malagant said, jumping back on his horse. As the wind gave a strong gust, he pulled his cloak tighter. The wind had picked up and it was swirling the leaves around, making them fall all over the trappers’ trail and into the rippling rivers that split their path.

  The terrain around them had changed and continued to change. The brown trees that littered the woods were bare and thinning, and the branches and twigs on them broke easily in the wind. It was still cold and the clouds threatened snow, so Ben knew the magical barrier hadn’t been passed yet, but it was still milder than it had been for the last two weeks.

  The ground had changed as well. It wasn’t frozen under their feet, though that had made riding the horses even more difficult. What was once frozen was now just mud. Several times the horses had gotten stuck on the trail, and already today they had to lead them around trees that had fallen over their path. Teal had thought out loud about finding the road again when he had fallen in the mud, but it was more of a complaint than a real thought. The road was too busy for them now, and they’d had enough close calls getting the horses hidden off-road before the inn. Not to mention that the mud was doing all but scream their position to anyone on the main road. It would be obvious just from the tracks alone that a small party had ducked into the woods to prevent discovery.

  They started back on the overgrown trail, if they could even call it a trail anymore. Half the time Ben was sure they had lost it, saplings and grass had sprouted up in the middle of it and had completely covered the path in some places. But whenever he was sure they’d lost their way, it would re-appear again.

  As he did every day, Teal looked at the Anean Prophecies, and as he did every day, he closed the book and let out a string of curses, before roughly putti
ng it away.

  “I really can’t wait to meet Anagin,” Teal said as he tied his backpack beside him. “He’ll make sense of this. I hope so anyway, I think all of this worry is giving me a boil inside of my stomach.”

  “He will,” Malagant assured, “but I’m still hoping the stupid thing will give us something before then. You know the whole horror at the inn? That’s exactly the type of stuff it’s supposed to warn us about, but still… nothing.”

  “The gods must be bored of their usual games,” Teal said, flicking the horse’s reins to make it pick up its pace. “What better way to use us for their own amusement than take away our guide?”

  Malagant turned and smirked at him. “Blasphemy!”

  Teal shot him a look. Malagant nudged his horse’s flank and started to encourage her to pick up speed. “Me? You’re always cursing Kelakheva. You’re more blasphemous than me.”

  “Pff… Kelakheva’s a demigod, he leaves room for teasing. The other ones though, they’re young gods with too much power. You curse them too loudly; they’ll cut you down and rape your soul.”

  As the two horses started to trot side by side, Malagant looked ahead. “The trees are sparse enough now, let’s get these beasts moving. We’ll be selling them soon, might as well get some good use out of them.”

  Teal gave his horse a kick in the side. It shook its head back and charged forward. Teal led it off of the trail, Malagant keeping pace behind him.

  “Race you to the canyon, knight!” Teal called to him.

  Malagant scoffed, loud enough so the both of them could hear it. He kicked his horse again and raced forward with a burst of speed.

  Ben clung onto Teal for dear life. Teal had the reins to keep him balanced, Ben was already off-balance from being squished onto the saddle with Teal.

  More in an attempt to keep balance than anything, Ben leaned forward with Teal and the two of them went crashing through the forest. Mud was flying everywhere as their horse ran to keep pace with its companion.

  Ben gave a holler and stood up in the saddle, his hands resting on Teal’s shoulders. The wind was hitting his face and the leaves too; he hadn’t gone this fast since he’d rode that deer back in the woods behind the castle.

  Ben looked over to see that their and Malagant’s horses were now neck to neck. Malagant’s eyes were facing forward and his tongue was poking out of the side of his mouth in concentration.

  “Stay on track. I’ll win us this!” Ben shouted, releasing his hands from Teal’s shoulders.

  “What?” Teal yelled over the sound of hoof beats.

  Malagant looked over to see Ben standing up on the saddle. His mouth dropped open and he pointed accusingly at Ben.

  “Don’t – you – dare!”

  Ben gave him a cocky grin, and before the horse could fall back behind Malagant’s, he lined himself up as evenly as he could… and jumped.

  He landed with one foot on the saddle, his other foot still in the air. He roughly dropped down beside Malagant and reached over and grabbed the reins.

  “Whooaa!” Ben said to the horse.

  “You shekin’ little…!!” Malagant swore loudly, trying to snatch the reins away from Ben. But it was too late; the horse snapped her head back and immediately dug her feet into the ground.

  The sudden stop lurched Ben forward like a bullet in a sling shot. He flew over Malagant and over the horse’s head and became airborne. But as he sped forward like a projectile his hibrid instincts kicked in and his body automatically twisted itself into the correct position. Ben landed on his feet and started to howl with laughter.

  Teal and his horse charged forward with a whoop, as Malagant cursed every single one of Ben’s ancestors.

  “You’re insane! Insane!” Malagant yelled, jumping off of his horse shaking his head in disbelief.

  “That is for calling me a human the other night,” Ben said with a grin. He dusted off his hands and looked to see Teal slowing his horse down a dozen yards away from them. The trees were gone now and behind Teal Ben could see green plains and slate-grey rocks.

  Malagant was still shaking his head, though there was a smirk on his face now. “Indeed, because only the insanity of a feral hibrid could think jumping horses mid-gallop was a spry idea. Come on, hibrid, let’s check out the gorge.” He helped Ben back onto his horse and they rode to where Teal was.

  As they approached, Ben could see Teal was grinning from ear-to-ear.

  “Did you see him do that?” Teal said to Malagant excitedly. “Just like when he jumped on the back of the deer. He has talent this one; I don’t even think I could do that.”

  “Jumping? No, no… pouncing,” Malagant said. They all dismounted their horses and directed them to a thick field of brilliant green grass and, as the horses whinnied and shook their heads in an excited manner, they let them be to play and eat the grass.

  Ben jogged ahead of them to where the gorge was. When he reached it he carefully tiptoed to the edge of the crags and looked down.

  Jarron’s Canyon was huge, like a god had taken both of his hands and torn the plains right down the middle. It was a good fifty feet of sheer cliff until the bottom, where there was a fast moving river that ran between gravelly banks. Ben could see its steel-grey water foaming as the white-tipped waves churned and crashed over many sharp and pointed rocks that were scattered in its path.

  The canyon looked like it got even steeper further on. Ben looked to see many waterfalls that made the river flow lower and lower until it disappeared with a bend to the left.

  “Look, the Five Kings are right up ahead,” Malagant said excitedly. Ben looked over and saw his friend pointing to the opposite direction.

  Ben looked to where Malagant was pointing and leaned forward to get a better view. To his surprise there was a sculpture, at least three-storeys high, carved right into the side of the canyon. It was a worn but beautiful carving of five elves standing side by side, seemingly guarding the canyons with their pupilless eyes.

  They were far away, and worn from years of standing tall and mighty against the elements, but Ben could see they were all wearing either flowing robes, or plated armour, and carrying great swords. Each also had a large crown carved onto their heads and, if Ben’s eyes didn’t deceive him, he thought he could see painted or dyed stones embedded in their crowns too.

  “There are many more, some as tall as the canyon,” Malagant said. The three of them started walking along the canyon line. “I was really hoping the trappers’ trail would lead us to the Kings. Further down river you’ll find the Maiden’s Regret, the Twisted Jare, Fedron’s Flames, even a giant carving of Lazarius, twisted around a tower, called the Dragon’s Promise,” Malagant said, still sounding incredibly excited. “Up stream and after the bridge, is the Green King, a carving of Anea and Kelakheva, and so many more.”

  “That’s just amazing,” Ben said in awe. He looked ahead but all he could see for miles were rolling green plains and sharp grey rocks that stuck out like dragon’s teeth. “Where is the bridge?”

  “We’ll probably get to it in a few hours; we might as well walk and let the horses rest. I want to camp in the trees tonight so we can get as far away from the canyon as possible. We’ll be leaving tomorrow at first light. I also want to watch the bridge tonight from a distance, make sure we won’t be expecting any company,” Malagant said. “We usually took the Solemn Bridge further east of here but Lord Catchak had mentioned it needing repairs. If that bridge hasn’t been repaired yet, this has a small chance of being busier than I would like. So better safe than skewered.”

  “Are we still burning the bridge after?” Ben asked.

  Malagant nodded, before turning around and giving a whistle. Obediently the horses looked up from their grazing and started to follow. “It’s not a nice thing to do, but I won’t feel safe with it up. Too many Serpents, princes, and daraphins with grudges. We’re pendant carriers and prophecy walkers, I’m sure that justifies some light vandalism.”

  With th
e horses following behind them, catching bits of grass along the way, they walked along the canyon towards the bridge. The Five Kings soon becoming small relics behind them, their proud elven faces a blur in the streaks of tan and grey stone, before disappearing completely.

  When Ben saw the bridge start to come into view, he started to feel nervous. And as they approached it and he got a good look at it, he was nothing short of terrified.

  “I’m not crossing that,” Teal said flatly. It seemed that Teal shared the exact same feelings that he did.

  With the impressive detailed carvings of the Five Kings, and all the other ones that Malagant had described, Ben had expected a bit more from the Alcovians. Unfortunately, their talents apparently didn’t extend to bridge-making.

  The bridge was made from rope and planks, but though the rope looked thick, it was frayed and old under the heavy rains from the winter. The planks weren’t any better either, they were thinner than Ben would have liked, and uneven. They looked quickly and hastily cut from the sparse trees behind them, the same weak, thinning brown wood whose branches Ben remembered snapped easily with the wind. These slabs had also been treated with a shiny black tar that did nothing to appease Ben’s fear of rot. And to make dire matters even worse, he was sure he also saw a few planks missing in the middle as well.

  Ben could see a fleeting look of doubt sweep across Malagant’s face, but he impressively hid it moments later with a big confident grin.

  “It’s not that bad! Anyway, we’ll burn it down and someone else can build a newer one. Doing Alcove a service if I do say so myself.”

  “I’m not crossing that,” Teal said again. He had his claws digging around his forearms. The previous wounds had just fully healed too; that hibrid went at his poor forearms like a grater on goat cheese.

  “I know it’s nothing to write the history books about, but the better crossings are going to be crawling with Serpents, travellers, and merchants and we just can’t have that right now,” Malagant admitted.