Servant of a Dark God

by John Brown

  “Save him,” Talen said and pointed at Da.

  “All in good time,” said the woman. “All in good time. First, we shall see if you are what you claim to be.”

  Yes, he thought. That was right. But underneath it all he knew it was not. Da was dying. Every second would count.

  “You have been bred to wield power impossible to others. We will raise an army from the very earth,” said the woman. “And you will command it.”

  She approached him, reaching out with her smoky hands. Her shining escort enveloped him.

  He should have felt fear, but all he felt was the ease of the woman and her smiling eyes. The music in the crown built. He could feel it vibrating in his feet and across his shoulders. But why was he even holding it? He let it drop to the floor. An odd thought came to him: Atra was nothing compared to this woman, yet this woman looked like Atra.

  Something probed him. Talen held his doors closed, but he could feel her gnawing all along his essence with something as small and sharp as the teeth of rats.

  The probing became stronger.

  Reflexively, he shut himself tight as River had taught him.

  The woman pulled away and appraised him. He felt her pleasure and it almost sent him to his knees. “You are indeed mine. Mine from the moment you were conceived. The weave has been changed. But it’s nothing that, with time, cannot be undone.”

  She spoke in Atra’s voice. Looked at him with Atra’s eyes. Except they weren’t Atra’s. They were at once more alien and more captivating than Atra’s could ever be.

  Another wave of pleasure washed over him. He looked at Da’s body. It was not right to have such wondrous feelings. It was wicked. It was an abomination. And yet he could not deny the power of them.

  “In time you will become as great as the Goat King himself.”

  Suddenly a music inside him swelled. It sang in his blood and bones. He thought it was the crown, but then he remembered he’d dropped that. For a brief moment the fog in his mind cleared away. The woman’s voice fell flat.

  Talen looked at her. Gone were the luminous eyes, the elegant neck and brow. Gone the alluring lips. In their place were black pits for eyes and a sucker mouth full of sharp teeth.

  He recoiled.

  An illusion-she was not one of the old gods. Not a benefactor. It was as if a huge blast of cold wind had just awakened him. His mind had been foggy, but now was crystal sharp.

  And yet the desire to serve her seeped back through him.

  “Yes,” said the woman. “He too was a master of the harvest that served my mother ages ago. For a time, the populace under his care yielded marvelous results. You will be his heir.”

  The Goat King’s heir…

  The title felt marvelous, and yet, underneath it ran a filth with a sickening taint.

  The glorious woman was back. His heart longed to serve her. But in his blood and bones he knew the truth-that longing was her doing.

  He had been twisted-to crave her.

  That knowledge momentarily lessened her power, and he wondered: Was this what his mother had seen in him and given her life to fix? Surely even the pox wouldn’t take a whole life to heal. No, more likely she’d recognized the enemy’s tool and given her life to engineer one small flaw so that his adoration wouldn’t be totally complete.

  But if that were the case, it wasn’t much of a flaw because the woman’s joy rushed back to suffuse him.

  “River!” roared Uncle Argoth. “Now!”

  River rushed toward him. She moved with frightening speed. In an eyeblink she sped from across the chamber and leapt into a flying kick.

  He’d fought with River. He knew, at this speed, her kick would carry the force to break bones.

  The woman stepped back, and as she did, Talen realized River was not directing the attack at the woman. She was directing it at him. At his head. Her blow would crack his skull. At the very least it would snap his neck bones.

  River’s face was twisted with fury and grief.

  Talen had no time to react.

  But the blow did not land.

  The monster rushed forward and, in a lightning strike, caught her ankle. River’s foot stopped a breath away from his face.

  The monster twisted her leg, and River fell to the ground.

  “Another one,” the hideous woman said. “It looks like we shall raise our army a bit faster than expected. Put her next to the male.”

  The monster moved to carry River next to Da.

  “Wait!” Talen said. “Wait.”

  The woman turned. “Will you serve me?”

  “Boy,” said Uncle Argoth. He made a small movement with his hand indicating Talen should come close. In his hand, close to his leg, he held a stone.

  Why did they want to kill him?

  The answer came: they believed they couldn’t fight this creature. They didn’t have the power.

  But he was something else. “A body,” River had said, “can only accept so much Fire at once.” He had poured forth Fire that would easily kill ten men. He could pour forth a flood. He had been bred to it. And he’d been given one tiny flaw.

  No, they couldn’t fight the woman. But perhaps he could.

  Yes, he could. He didn’t have much of a chance. But something was better than nothing at all.

  Argoth beckoned. Talen looked again at the stone in his Uncle’s hand. Even if he could get close to Argoth, the monster would be watching. It would foil Uncle Argoth as it had River.

  He knew what they wanted-they wanted the woman’s tool destroyed. But his plan could do that. He might not be a victor. But he could fight despite his limitations. And he would do it in a way that would put the woman on her heels.

  The monster still held River’s ankle as if she were some child’s toy.

  Talen stepped around them, toward the woman. “I choose to serve you.”

  Her pleasure rushed through him; it washed him from heel to crown, an ecstasy like he’d never experienced. His resolve faltered. He wanted so desperately to serve.

  “You will have your heart’s desires,” the woman said. But he knew she lied. She wasn’t going to save Da. She wasn’t going to spare River. He’d seen her for what she was. Of course, part of him didn’t care what she was. Most of him didn’t care.

  “No!” shouted Argoth. “No good can come from this. You cannot lie with sheep and sire men.”

  “Hunger,” the woman commanded.

  “Trust me,” Talen said again. But he didn’t know if he could trust himself.

  He turned to his sister and saw her dismay. He looked into her lovely, grief-stricken eyes. “I love you, sister,” he said. “I will see you in brightness.”

  Her face fell.

  “No,” said Uncle Argoth, but the heat was gone from his voice.

  The living light about the woman reached out to him. “In the end,” she said, “they will see your wisdom and thank you. Now we must hollow you so that we may repair what was done. Hunger, come.”

  The monster took River back to the wall and chained her with double the chains. It left her there and strode over to Talen.

  Talen flexed his essence. River had told him to practice closing himself every moment he could. He had done this. He knew how to open and close himself. He only needed to fling himself wide at the right moment.

  The Mother spoke into Hunger’s mind. As soon as we have the master in our control, you will take the others and quicken your brethren.

  Yes, he said, and his heart fell. Hunger had done all she had commanded. He had kept his part of the bargain. But she had just lied to the boy. And if she lied to her overseer, why would she ever keep her word to him, a thing destined for the devouring?

  But what could he do? He could not fight her.

  In anger, he reached forward and took the boy by the throat.

  Talen tensed. The monster’s hands were rough with stone. But more unsettling still was the feeling of something probing along the seams of his being.

  The mo
nster readjusted its grip.

  Talen prepared to fling himself wide.

  Then he was lost, floating, in his body, but out of it.

  Panic rose in him. He’d missed his chance.

  “River,” he called.

  With a roar like rushing water, a door burst open within him and another one behind it. He could perceive the chaos of the monster outside that first door, and beyond it, behind the second door stood the woman.

  Beauty. Power. Like nothing he could imagine. A being worthy of his every devotion. He longed to make her happy. But the truth sang in his bones. He knew she was an illusion. Knew her promises would turn to dust. However, it didn’t matter now as much as it had only moments before. He just didn’t care.

  No, he said to himself. The link between them must be magnifying her effect. He focused on Da and River, on the monster.

  “You please me,” said the woman.

  He basked in her gratitude and knew he was hanging by a finger. He was slipping, sliding, falling into a powerful river from which he knew he would never return.

  He had to act quickly. He could not withstand this longing.

  “Come!” he shouted into the roar of noise. “Come and take me!” He threw open the fabric of his being and poured himself forth.

  The Fire coursed from him through the monster’s arm.

  Talen ripped himself wider, a massive rent. The Fire crashed around him like turgid rapids.

  But the monster simply swallowed it up.

  “Yes,” the woman said. “That is good.”

  How much Fire did it take to break a man? How much did it take to break a monster? Talen had no idea, but what he was doing didn’t seem to have any effect.

  Talen opened himself as wide as he could.

  Black spidery lines ran up the creature’s arm, spreading down its side and along its chest. But the creature showed no sign of breaking.

  Fear rose in him. This wasn’t going to work. He’d been a fool! He should have run to Uncle Argoth.

  He tried to pull away but could not.

  But he didn’t really want to anyway.

  No, Talen thought. No! He searched for more to give, to release all that was in him. And then he felt something slip. He had been standing in the rush, watching it flow by. Now he knew he simply needed to let go, to flow with the Fire.

  “What is he doing?” the woman asked in warning. “Stop it. Close him up.”

  Talen ripped the remanants of the wall that stood between him and the monster and let go. Pain shot through him, and instead of standing in the Fire and watching it flow away, the Fire picked him up, engulfed him, carried him like a piece of flotsam.

  So much Fire.

  The tips of the fingers of the monster lightened like ash. A wave of white passed up the creature’s arm.

  “It’s too much,” said the woman. “Close him!”

  The boy’s power was immense. His pool of Fire vast. Hunger had never felt such power in anything he’d ever eaten.

  He hadn’t felt it in the Mother.

  Power rolled off the boy and filled the room. He was a storm, and Hunger was desperately trying to devour it all.

  The amount of Fire roaring through Hunger to his stomachs was astounding. But what shocked him was that, Lords, he felt pain.

  But no, it was the Mother’s pain. How could that be?

  The link, he realized. She used Hunger to wield powers she could not. And the link was exposing her to the heat of the raging Fire of the boy.

  “It’s too much!” she said.

  An idea shot through Hunger. Hope sprang forth.

  “No!” she said and tried to break her bond to him, but Hunger held her fast.

  “Release me!” she commanded.

  “Never!” Hunger cried, and instead of funneling the boy’s raging might into his stomachs, he directed it all through his bond to the Mother.

  Talen flowed forth. The Fire engulfed everything. His vision blurred. His body screamed.

  The woman yelled but her voice was drowned out by the rushing of the Fire.

  He felt her trying to close herself against him.

  The monster’s arm and chest were now as white as ash.

  Talen no longer watched the Fire. He was the Fire. He was a furnace, an inferno, a roaring, molten sea.

  The woman yelled, commanded the monster to let go.

  The creature ignored her.

  “Here,” Talen said, “is my heart’s desire.” And he gave himself, every whit.

  A patch on the monster’s face turned ash gray. Then all flashed a blinding white.

  There was a deafening roar.

  The woman screamed.

  A huge blast cracked Talen’s world.

  The shock tore the monster into pieces, flung Talen like a leaf, hurled the others in the room into the rock. The Creek Widow tumbled away and crashed into the pallid beast. The bowls of liquid light smashed into the walls.

  Talen reeled and saw a body below him.

  He expected to slam into the ground, but did not. He was floating above the scene.

  He looked closer at the body on the floor, and realized it was his.

  River coughed. She lay on the floor, tangled in her chains. She got to her hands and knees. “Talen,” she said.

  “River!” he yelled.

  But she did not respond.

  “Sister!”

  She did not hear him.

  The fact of the body on the floor finally registered with him and Talen grew very silent.

  He’d expected pain would vanish at the moment of death, but he hurt all over. He felt as if he’d lost something essential, a leg or an arm.

  He looked about to see if the others were moving. Ke lay on his side, face to the wall.

  Something caught him and tugged him around.

  It was a hideous thing, all mottled blue with many twisting limbs and too many eyes.

  “Save them,” it said in a voice of gravel. “My pretty girl. My wife. Unravel the mother’s binding.”

  Talen tried to pull away, but couldn’t.

  “Quickly,” it said.

  A piece of the creature before him struggled, then broke away and flitted off over its shoulder. Talen knew this abomination was the monster. It looked nothing like it had in that body of grass and stone, but he knew that was because this was the many souls of the thing.

  It pulled on him with violence and carried him to his body.

  Another part of the monster wriggled free.

  “Quickly,” it repeated. “She keeps them in the room where she sleeps.” Then it stuffed him back into his body.

  Pain slapped him, left, and came back in earnest. Talen gasped for air.

  Another part of the monster began to writhe.

  A loud buzzing filled Talen’s ears.

  The monster turned as if alarmed.

  Something black darted past it.

  “Find my stomachs,” it said. “The ones she already took. Unravel them.”

  Something struck the monster, seemed to bite or bore into its back. The monster winced in agony, but continued to close Talen in.

  “Loose them,” it said. “Set them free.”

  Talen’s vision of this new world diminished like someone had drawn closed the mouth of a sack, leaving nothing but three horrid eyes. Then they too winked out and the monster, the wicked buzz, the motion and light-all of it vanished.

  Talen gasped and choked in a mouthful of dust.

  He couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. Lords, he hurt. Something was broken inside his chest, cutting his innards like a knife.

  He rolled over and cried out at a searing pain in his ribs, a pain that stole his vision and turned it into a flash of light. “Merciful Creators,” he prayed, imploring, begging for help. “Da.”

  But the pain was too great and his whole world went white.

  48

  SHIM

  Talen awoke with his eyes closed, wailing in pain.

  “Talen,” a voice so
soft he almost didn’t hear it. “Brother.”

  It was River. But Talen couldn’t contain his wails.

  River stroked his forehead. “Shush,” she said gently. “Shush.”

  He gritted his teeth, tried to stop. He panted and then the wailing turned to sobs, great wracking sobs, and tears streaming down his face.

  He opened his eyes.

  Blood had run out of one of River’s nostrils and dried in the dust on her face. The odd beast light still lit the room behind her, but it had diminished greatly.

  “Where’s Da? Ke?”

  A weary grief rose in River’s eyes. “Ke is fading fast.”

  “And your father,” said the Creek Widow, “let us hope that he has been gathered by the ancestors.” Talen turned and looked at her. She’d tried to wipe it away, but he could see her mouth had been smashed. Dried blood caked the edges of her lips. It caked her gums. She was missing three teeth.

  A sob rose in him. But he swallowed it. He could not fathom Da being gone.

  Talen closed his eyes and composed himself.

  “It wanted me to unravel its stomachs,” he said.

  The Creek Widow narrowed her eyes.

  “The monster,” said Talen. “Before it put me back.”

  “Talen,” Uncle Argoth said, “how did you do it?”

  “River had said you could kill a man by giving him too much Fire,” said Talen. “I gave the monster everything.”

  “Incredible,” said Uncle Argoth.

  The Creek Widow shook her head. “My boy,” she said and took his hand. “My bright, shining boy. You have snatched victory from the jaws of death.”

  “But I didn’t,” he said. “The monster put me back.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The monster,” said Talen. “It put me back into my body.”

  “But the monster lies in pieces,” said Argoth.

  “It was there, on the other side. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  “This place,” said the Creek Widow, surveying the chamber. “It will take a great many days to understand what went on here.”

  “Is the woman gone?” asked Talen.

  “Can you feel her inside you?” asked Uncle Argoth.