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

by Quil Carter

  Throateater looked at Malagant. “You look horrible.”

  Malagant’s eyes found him. “I know,” he replied soberly.

  If I die, Teal… if I die… Teal, don’t try and kill the demigod. Don’t fuse the pendants back together. We have a mission that goes above our mortal toils. You need to be strong.

  Teal put his cold hand against Malagant’s fevery head. “Chaka… Malagant, we need to get you to Birch. We could fry an egg on you.” Teal dug into his pack and brought out the stapler. Surprisingly enough, with his orange pills he gave him a yellow one too. “Take these. You need energy. We’re not going to stop now. We’re going to hurry, make a break for it.”

  An odd feeling inside of Malagant told him that by ‘we’ he meant more his other selves than him.

  Malagant nodded, though he doubted how far he could make it.

  With the sun warming them, and the breeze cooling the cold cloth on Malagant’s head, they walked down the hill. The grass underneath Malagant’s sweaty, sore feet was damp and the soil loose. He fell a few times, but each time Throateater helped him carefully to his feet. An hour into his stumbled walks he felt warmth come over him. He inhaled, his chest feeling tight. A feeling stronger than his Dashavian painkillers rushed over him.

  Although the aching pain of the infection in his hands was not fully quelled, the bite of it was lessened. A small trickle of energy could be felt making its way through his body as well. Small like a stream, but in a dry desert a stream was a life bringer, and his body might as well be Dashavia’s Sife Desert.

  Malagant looked down to see little red droplets fall onto the emerald blades of grass below him. He wiped his nose with his dirty bandage and saw that it was bleeding. He tipped his head forward just letting it fall, counting the drops as they spilled, but it was more of a steady fountain than drops. Only his facial hair was breaking the flow, making the blood fall like rain off of a slanted roof.

  Malagant sniffed, feeling them start another hill. He didn’t think he had another ridge in him. At least this one didn’t seem as steep from the last hill when he had looked upon it from the summit.

  The crimson drops landed on rock, then grass again, and after what seemed like a long time, they reached the top and then the bottom. Malagant couldn’t even look up now. All he could manage now was counting trails of red and watching his boots swing one in front of the other. The blood was even getting on his boots now.

  “Malagant?” Throateater said. Malagant didn’t raise his head; he tried to grunt recognition but it was either that or keep walking. He could no longer do both.

  “Malagant?”

  “Malagant?” Teal said. He slowed down so he was right beside his friend.

  Malagant’s eyes were half-open, dazed. A steady stream of blood was covering his black facial hair, dripping down his neck and his jerkin. There was even some in his hair. It was a gruesome sight, but Teal didn’t let himself feel the fear churning below the surface.

  Malagant kept walking, his lips were moving like he was mumbling something to himself, but he didn’t respond.

  Teal drew himself closer to Malagant, the pills would be kicking in soon. He hoped Malagant would be out of pain at least; it was all he could do.

  Teal had to be strong for them; it was all up to him now. He hadn’t slipped back to Throateater since way before he had gotten Ben. The Throateater was crazy, he had killed more elves than Teal could count, but he was needed.

  I am needed, Throateater said in his head, the same low cold voice that had been speaking to him for days now.

  Malagant took one more step before he stumbled; he fell face first into the damp ground and let out a scream of pain as he landed on his hands.

  Wide-eyed, Malagant looked around, confused, and groaned as he tried to get to his feet.

  Teal helped him, blood speckling on his jerkin as it flew off of Malagant’s face; it was still falling freely from his nose. Throateater destroyed the fear that was multiplying as Teal smelled Malagant’s festering hands. All he could think of was Taugis, rotting Taugis, gone insane from infection. Malagant was next, if he wasn’t already there.

  “I can see the wall, Malagant. I wanted to tell you… I can see the wall.” Teal tried to support his friend as Malagant stood on his feet. It was like holding a ragdoll.

  Malagant nodded, leaning against Teal. Teal walked with him as Malagant started to take steps, letting his friend lean against him for support. His stained and soiled bandaged hand was slung over Teal’s shoulder, the other one hanging loosely to his side.

  Malagant tried to talk, but all that came out was slurred words and gibberish. He coughed and spat out blood, and continued to try and talk.

  Teal looked ahead, wondering if he should lay Malagant next to one of the rocks and make a run for it to try and get Anagin, but he couldn’t leave his friend. He was too afraid Malagant wouldn’t make it for their return. Or even more so, in his delirious state he might think his friend was abandoning him.

  Teal shifted Malagant’s weight on him more, steeling his legs to support him. He felt a calmness overcome him and protect his emotions from even the strongest doubts that were shadowing him. He kept walking, as fast as he could, towards the stone walls of Birch.

  42

  “Help! I need help!” Teal screamed. He was staggering down the muddy dirt road heading right to the tall wooden gates of Birch. There were trees around him now, though all the ones near the gates had been cut.

  The wall was high, and on either side of the gate were tall crow’s nest watchtowers. He could see the silhouettes of elves on the towers but they hadn’t seen him yet. The wall was sparsely occupied as well, but with the plains around them it was easy to see trouble coming for leagues. They probably didn’t need many sentries.

  Teal coughed, his chest burned. Every breath he took shot pain through his body and made him feel lightheaded and dizzy.

  Malagant was delirious now, going in and out of consciousness. Teal had to carry him slung over his back for the last two hours of their journey.

  Teal tried to keep walking, but collapsed under Malagant’s weight, his body screaming for air and rest. He inhaled and yelled for help again.

  Then he could hear a door open in the guard tower and hurried talking. Moments later the gates opened and there was a flurry of activity around him.

  Someone took Malagant, Teal tried to get up but fell. “Please, help.”

  “Plague? Does he have plague? Disease?” a sharp voice asked. Teal managed to look up to see two elves dressed in armour around him; a female elf and an older male. Several more tunic-garbed elves were in the background standing by the gates, keeping their distance, swords drawn.

  “I need Anagin, I have to see Anagin,” Teal managed through wheezing breaths.

  “Anagin Ahris sees no one. Answer my question, boy,” the older elf snapped.

  Teal felt his temper flare. Malagant was dying from infection and this coidog wanted to know if he had plague? Look at his bandages, you bloody fool.

  “This is his son Malagant. Take us to him at once!” Teal screamed, his voice hysterical. Immediately a heat rushed from his toes to his head and threw him off-balance. He dropped to his knees with a gasp and struggled to get back up.

  Another elf, one of the tunic-garbed ones in the corner, ran forward. He took one look at Malagant and gasped. “Pontis, it is Malagant. Holy Anea, grab him we have to get him to Anagin.”

  They picked up Malagant, and the one who had recognized Malagant helped Teal to his feet. Teal leaned on him, still trying to catch his breath and make his legs work. They felt like jelly now, wobbling and waning with every step.

  The elf practically carried Teal inside the walls. The other elves cleared a path but their eyes were watching their every move.

  Around him Teal could see a beautiful town of carved stone, with cobblestone streets and beautiful fire trees. The homes were made out of wood and stone with shingled roofs, most two storeys, some three. It
was beautiful, even in Teal’s state he saw that.

  Teal looked ahead of him to see the armoured elf Pontis had Malagant in his arms. Malagant was limp but his eyes were open, looking around dazed; his lips barely moving as he mumbled to himself. His lips were tinged blue, and his nose caked with blood and mud. Teal was surprised the elf could even recognize Malagant; they had both fallen in the mud many times and were both completely covered.

  “We’re here, Malagant,” Teal managed to gasp. “Your father will heal you, don’t worry.”

  The elf who was helping Teal stand shook his head. “What happened to him, friend?”

  “He was tortured. His hands were flayed to the bone; they festered. It happened at the Jarron.”

  They turned down a small winding road, far from where the other houses were, and headed towards a stone house trimmed with iron work, surrounded by fire trees bursting with crimson leaves. It had smoke billowing from the chimney and a small white fence surrounding the front with beautiful flowers. It was separate from the other houses in the town, with over an acre of grass and trees surrounding it. Teal could see lamps in the window and even a cooling pie.

  “You’re home, Malagant,” Teal choked. Malagant didn’t respond; his delirious eyes showed him a million miles away.

  “He’ll be fine, friend,” the elf said reassuringly. “Malagant is strong and stubborn, just like his father.”

  “Anagin!” Pontis yelled. “Anagin, get out here!”

  Pontis kicked open the gate, which slammed up against the fence with a clang, and walked down the red stone walk. As he walked towards the door, the door opened.

  There was no denying Anagin Ahris was Malagant’s father and the infamous sunmage of the Black War. His eyes were brilliant yellow, the colours of a foxes or an owls, and his hair was black, but greying at the temples. Anagin also had the same three silver hooped earrings in his ears as Malagant did.

  Malagant had his eyes as well, though some how the bright curious gaze Malagant had wasn’t there. His were stern and unyielding, like nothing would ever faze him after what he had seen.

  Anagin beheld Pontis with annoyance for the briefest of moments until he looked to who he was carrying. His yellow eyes widened. “Bring him in and leave us,” he said in the most steeled of voices.

  Pontis didn’t argue, he brought Malagant through the doors. With the elf’s help Teal started walking up the steps.

  “I’ll…” the elf started, but he stopped when Pontis appeared in the doorway. He walked down and nodded towards the elf.

  “The hibrid goes in. Melesch, we’re taking our leave,” Pontis said his voice firm. “We’ll let Syr Ahris tend to his son.”

  Teal inclined his head to the elf Melesch. The elf looked longingly at the door, before turning and leaving with Pontis.

  Teal turned around and walked inside of the house; he closed the door behind him. The door led to the kitchen with a large open living room to his left, and stairs leading to the second storey further on. The room was warm inside, and it smelled like apple pie. In different circumstances it would have been a great respite from a long cold journey.

  Immediately he could see another elf. Once again there was no doubting who he was. Josiah had the same eyes as all the Ahris boys, though like his brother’s his were blue. Unlike his father and brother though, his hair was golden blond, and fell to his ears before flipping up just slightly. He was as tall as Malagant, and built the same.

  Josiah was knelt in front of Malagant, who was leaning against a brown couch, mumbling incoherently. Teal could hear his clogged nose trying to breathe, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his mouth slacked and gasping like a fish out of water.

  Josiah’s hands were rapidly moving, unwinding Malagant’s bandages as he tried to keep his brother upright.

  “Anea above, Dad… oh gods, look at them,” Josiah’s voice was panicked. “What the shek did he do? Oh fuck…” The blond elf reached up and started patting Malagant’s cheek. “Malagant? Mally? Mally? Brother? Can you hear me?”

  Josiah looked to his right towards the stairs. “Dad, he’s bad, he’s really bad.”

  Teal pressed his back against the closed door. Fear gripped him like the gods themselves had their hands wrapped around his chest.

  Then Anagin was there, he took Malagant’s chin into his hands and raised it. “Malagant? Malagant?” He cleared the blood away from his son’s nose and shook his head slightly. “Tanek volton, his eyes are yellowing.”

  “It’s gone to his liver?” Josiah said faintly.

  “What an idiot, I knew this would happen to him,” Anagin said in a low biting tone. Teal didn’t know if they had forgotten that he was there or what, but he was too shy and too weak to make his presence known.

  Teal saw the ruins of the bandage get dropped on the floor; he could smell Malagant’s hands from where he was standing.

  Anagin took Malagant’s hands into his own, he gripped Malagant’s ruined fingers with his own and squeezed them. Malagant cried out in pain.

  “Everon’s piss, Mugabee could have done a better job stitching these.”

  Teal lowered his head shamefully and slid his body down to the floor.

  “What did he get himself into? Someone took a scalping knife to his hands, two are completely cut off. He must have lost a pretty big bet. Or owed a very important pirate some gold, or smugglers.”

  Anger burst inside of Teal. In an instant all of Malagant’s comments regarding his father’s view of him became a reality. Smugglers? Pirates? His son had been fucking trying to save Elron!

  “Taugis Luceon skinned his fucking fingers off. He got injured trying to save me and our other companion,” Teal said, his voice acid. “Five sellswords held him down as they tortured him. He… he still never gave us up, even when Taugis took a rock and a blade to Malagant’s bones.”

  Anagin looked behind him, surprise on his face. It looked like they had forgotten he was here. “Prince Taugis of Lelan?”

  “None other,” Teal said biting.

  Anagin took one last look at Teal and nodded him over to the living room area they had Malagant in. “Come in.”

  He doesn’t know who I am? Malagant said there would be no hiding it from him. That he would see into his mind and know.

  Teal walked on shaky feet to the living room.

  “Hold Malagant up, boy. Josiah, warm water, merile, and a saw,” Anagin said to his son. “There is no saving them, I’ll have to amputate.”

  “NO!” Teal screamed, tears sprung from his eyes and an overwhelming rush of panic shook his chest. “You have to help him! You’re a sunmage… you have to save his hands.”

  Anagin’s face was sorrowful; the elf shook his head. Josiah got up, tears also in his eyes. “Son, the infection is already in his bloodstream. He’ll be lucky if I don’t need to take his arms. He’ll not make it through the night unless I do. I’m sorry.” Anagin’s eyes found his. “Are you his chaylen partner?”

  Teal shook his head no, the tears falling from his face. He could feel Throateater trying to break the surface. To free his mind from the agony he was feeling. The emotionless, cold mask crept to his face. He couldn’t handle this… he couldn’t do this. Not Malagant too, not his hands. Not him.

  Teal looked down at Malagant’s hands. In some places the moonsilk had completely worn through his swollen skin, leaving just small tied-off loops held together by bits of discoloured flesh. His hands were covered in dry and wet blood, and pus of several colours. A swirling painting of rot, infection, and black dead flesh. Stained orange by his salves and rimmed with film from being soaked in merile. Even on his wrists Teal could see blackened flesh, and the outline of dark green veins creeping up to his forearms. Somehow they seemed to look even worse indoors, the smell was definitely worse.

  Josiah came back with a ceramic bowl full of hot water. With tears streaming down his face he put the bowl down and raised his other hand… in it was a steel bone saw.

  Teal took o
ne look at the saw, flickering in the light of the fireplace – and felt his mind snap.

  “You won’t take his hands!” Throateater suddenly screamed; he lunged for the saw.

  Josiah, surprised, moved out of the way just in time for Anagin to grab Teal.

  “We brought him here for you to heal him! Not mutilate him!” Throateater snarled. “We won’t let you butcher him!”

  Anagin held Teal back, a look of confusion on his face. He made eye contact with Josiah who was staring, bewildered at Teal.

  “We?” Anagin said sharply. “Who are you? Name yourself.”

  “Release us!” Throateater screamed, still trying to reach for the saw.

  “Hush, hush, boy,” Anagin said calmly, like he was soothing a child, but Throateater didn’t stop struggling, a growl now rumbling in his throat.

  “Dad…he isn’t brainwashed. I can see my reflection,” Josiah said as he walked up to Anagin and looked into Teal’s eyes.

  Anagin shushed Teal again and, surprisingly, Teal started to calm down. Anagin nodded and slowly released him from his tight hold.

  Teal stepped away from Anagin and whirled around, looking in all directions like he was a wild animal inside of a cage. He was tempted to take Malagant and run, no one could help him here.

  “Who are you?” Anagin asked calmly, almost gently. Teal’s eyes shot to Malagant, then Anagin’s.

  “Throateater,” Teal whispered. Then he took another step back.

  Though with every step backwards, Anagin took another cautious step forward. “Who are you usually?”

  “Father…?” Josiah said confused.

  “His mind has fractured; he’s very ill,” Anagin said, his yellow eyes looked into Teal’s soul and beyond. “Boy, who are you usually? Who does Malagant know you as?”

  “I am the emerald prophecy walker.”

  Anagin’s hands stopped, still outstretched to Teal. His amber eyes widened, then softened just barely as he looked at Teal’s face.