Time was odd to her now as well, as she was so much faster than when she had been human, but feel it? And now he had discovered another world. She had never even fathomed that there were other worlds, and he had visited one. He was probably there now, studying, learning, testing. His was a life of understanding lest he make mistakes. Hers was a life of devotion. Not to Thurr. Not to the big picture. She worshipped him, not only as a god but as a man. If Seth wanted her to walk to the ends of the world and back a million times, she’d not deny him. Hers was a life devoted to him. As was Borrik’s, she imagined.
“You are right, Borrik. In the name of Seth.” She needed a few minutes alone and with what presumably could be weeks of walking ahead of them, she knew she wouldn’t get it here.
“Borrik, you and Jonas continue ahead, I’m going to scout the traila bit and make certain no dangers lie in wait.” Without awaiting a confirmation, she sprang into the air summoning her wings, feeling them slither beneath her skin before taking form. It was a sick feeling, but something worth the while once she began to climb.
* * * * *
Garret stood upon the stage in the depths of Ishanya’s temple. Before him, as they had for weeks on end, his young subjects knelt in subjugation before the ancient statue of Ishanya praying for her blessing, her wisdom, and her grace. Already seven had been blessed. Two, he believed, in part due to his own prayers. They had been given important gifts. Now Ballantine would not have to act alone. Ishanya had created her own healers of a sort, with the ability to speed healing and growth. He was told that the Lycans were being produced at an unprecedented rate, though he had refused to leave the temple thus far.
The other five blessed by Ishanya were given gifts of battle, and all of them were blessed identically. Four boys and a girl given the ability to dematerialize and materialize at will. Even now they sparred in another room. Vanishing to avoid a blow, then reappearing to deliver one of their own. They could only vanish for a second or two at a time, and were still vulnerable to magical attacks even when deconstructed, but nonetheless, watching them flit in and out of existence as they fought was astonishing. Garret dubbed them his wraiths, and spent hours each day teaching them the blade, the bow, and the axe.
Seven was a good number, but he wanted more. Needed more. He didn’t want to defeat the demon inhabiting his brother’s flesh, he wanted to obliterate it. He didn’t want to retake Drakenhurst, he wanted to retake the world. If he ruled it all, there would be no more war. He could enjoy the rest of his years in peace, in bed with his soon-to-be bride. How he yearned for vengeance following conquest. Conquest of the world and of Anna’s flesh. He would have it all, he just needed to wait a bit longer.
Pacing across the stage as his teenaged minions sought blessing, he felt the air in the vaulted room change, as if becoming electric. The torches flickered before going dark. They remained ablaze, and Garret could see the flames, but no light emanated from them. All the air in the room grew stale before rushing from the space in an eerie howl as the doors above the great staircase slammed closed. There, before him, in the absence of air and light, he could feel the tremendous power of the goddess as he gulped again and again trying to breathe.
“Your incessant calls annoy me.” A musical but powerful voice spoke from the darkness.
Garret could hear the thrashing of his would-be warriors upon the floor, each of them fighting to breathe. He tried to hold onto his resolve, all the while feeling the burning in his lungs.
“I do not answer to the beck and call of mortals, slave of a king. I give what and when I see fit to those who I deem worthy. Ask for more again, and I will flay the flesh from your bones whilst you watch your lover raped for eternity by the very beasts you breed for war. You will have what I deem you need and nothing more. Do as I have instructed and destroy the demon prince!”
Garret nodded, falling to his knees. It was all he could do.
“In repentance for your bothersome prayers, I shall take what is mine and leave you what is left.”
With an almost imperceptible whoosh, the chamber was again filled with air as the torches cast light once more. Upon the floor, more than a dozen of his would-be warriors began ripping at the flesh of their own wrists with their teeth, tearing and biting as blood began to spray from the wounds. As if possessed they tore at themselves with eyes filled with fear and sorrow, and one by one they dropped lifeless to the cold stone of the floor in puddles of their own fluids. Garret knew now the price of their prayers.
There was nothing he could do for them. Blessed by a god, and the king of a kingdom, he was helpless. He simply watched on as they took their own lives, uncertain of what drove them to this end. Could the goddess force people to kill themselves? If she could, what need was there of him? Could she not simply kill whatever possessed Seth’s body? Or perhaps it went deeper. Did she offer something to those who killed themselves in exchange for their lives? It was likely he’d never know.
Climbing down from the stage amidst a gathering of crying, screaming teenagers who had never seen such a thing, Garret did his best to calm them.
“It is a sacrifice, my young warriors. For the blessings she has given, and those she might give, these boys and girls have taken their own lives.”
“Did you see their faces?” a girl called Bekkah asked.
“I did, and it was the sorrow for us, their sadness that we must remain on this mortal plain, that I saw in their eyes as they escaped into the beauty of the next world.”
Garret doubted it was true, but there was no use dwelling on it. He still had his pair of healers and his wraiths. Twelve had been sacrificed but near twenty more remained. Looking down, he patted the nearest boy on the head to comfort him and found the head peculiar. Looking to the face of the boy he saw the small mouth open in horror as he extended his hands out before him. Upon his flesh a gray rot crawled, drying and stiffening his skin. His movements slowed as it spread, his voice becoming scratchy, deep, and broken. All the children again began to holler and scream, holding their hands out before their faces as their sounds and movements grew to naught. Garret watched in horror as all the remaining unblessed children around him began to grow, contort, twist, and thicken as their faces bore witness to the horror taking place within them.
One by one the children ceased moving, their flesh turning to stone like the very statue they had prayed to just moments before. Their joints ground to a stop as their faces froze with hideous expressions upon them.
Garret had offended his goddess and this was his punishment. He had killed the children. It was his doing.
All around him the swollen, contorted statues of his followers stood, all of their eyes transfixed upon him. It was like a garden of horrors, something born of a dark mind and insanity. Garret could not help the tears that filled his eyes, and turning to avert his gaze, he knocked into one of the stone children and watched as the grotesque girl stirred.
Moving slowly at first, she began to twist and rise to her new height as dust rained from her joints and the sounds of stones grating together filled the chamber. Then, one by one, the other children began to groan and stretch, moving their stone bodies about. They were not dead as he presumed, but transformed! Much like his own metallic blessing, Ishanya had given them skin of stone, making them impenetrable to most attacks. She had made them warriors.
Again the children raised their hands to look at their new forms, and they looked about the room at one another. Faster and faster they moved until it was apparent that their new bodies would not hinder them.
“Praise Ishanya,” the boy known as Jake Grant said with a deep firm voice that was not human.
“Praise Ishanya,” the other stone children repeated.
Ishanya had given him a gift. Had given them a gift. It was time to get his plan in motion.
“Gather the dead,” he said to the stone children. “Jake, lead your fellows to the mage’s tower and get help preparing them for burial. When they are buried, seek me out at th
e barracks opposite the Lycan training grounds.
“Yes, your Majesty,” Jake grated.
Without another word, Garret spun on his heel, signaling for the wraiths to follow him with a wave of his hand.
* * * * *
Whether it had been minutes or months, Seth could not be certain. In this new realm, this place of pure power, there was no time. There was no day or night, no sun or moons. It was vast, and it was miniscule. He could feel the world here more than see it, and he was not alone upon it. The gods were here, in a sense. He could feel their power, their will. But it was as if they remained behind some sort of veil. He could feel them, but not reach them. It was perhaps simply beyond his abilities or understanding. Even so, he was learning much about this realm, his own abilities, and the power that was life and creation.
Not only was this world one in its own, but so too was it connected to Thurr. Though he could not see Thurr, so to speak, he could feel it… All of it. He could feel the mountains and the seas. He could feel the ants and great beasts in the depths of the oceans. He could feel Borrik, and Sara, and even Garret. Everything was there. Everything was related. Every single piece upon Thurr fit into a greater puzzle that was life. It was an immense aura that pulsed with radiant lights that he could feel.
With a thought he sought out Sara and felt her winging through the hot air currents above the vast desert beyond the Rancoor mountains. Though her mortal flesh was bound to the physical world, here he could feel her aura, and it was as if she were right beside him. He could see the goblins, the trolls, the orcs, and even the elves from here. He could intervene and guide Sara and Borrik to those they sought, but they were already on the right path, and Seth still had much to learn.
Turning his attention to Valdadore, he felt the city and the people, and the beasts his brother was breeding. There were many now… So many. They would march soon. His time was limited. He needed to discover what it was that was drawing him to this place. He could feel it in his gut. There was something more he needed to discover.
Turning his attention away from those he loved, he began seeking anew what it was that he needed.
Chapter 12
Going over the final list one last time, Anna couldn’t help but eye Digo like he were a piece of candy. It was the same with Jasmine. Her two new servants looked absolutely delicious, but she had managed to restrain herself for over a month. The anticipation was like foreplay. She couldn’t even walk into a room with them without getting excited in every imaginable way.
Even so, they had already served a great purpose. They ran here and there gathering supplies for the wedding. They delivered all the invitations, hired the local businesses to cater and deliver wine and ale. It really was much simpler to write a list and make them do everything. But the list was running out, and Anna could feel herself getting moist just thinking about it. Oh, how she wanted to taste them, experience them, and devour them. But she could not. Not yet at least.
“M…my lady, could you please refrain from your list a moment and lower your arms so I can take your measurements?” the dress designer stuttered.
She supposed it was because she had decided to toy with the man, and discarded all of her clothing prior to their meeting. Digo and Jasmine were rather used to her nudity by now, and rather fond as well, if she judged them correctly. They were even taking pleasure in the man’s squirming… it becoming something of a game.
“Did you see that, Jasmine? The man just fondled my breasts!” Anna exclaimed as Jasmine put a hand over her open mouth in feigned surprise.
“No… No! My lady, I would never!” The dressmaker stepped back, holding up his hands.
“I suppose it isn’t every day you get to put your clammy paws on soon-to-be queens… Carry on, would you?” Anna harassed.
“Y..Yes, m’lady.”
Anna looked at the man’s flushed face, smelling the heated blood of his embarrassment as it filled his plump cheeks. It was rather obvious that she was not his type. Not at all. He showed zero signs of arousal whatsoever. She supposed he would rather be fondling Digo, but Digo was not in need of a dress. Poor boy wouldn’t even be at the wedding.
Sighing rather loudly, Anna shifted, much to the dressmaker’s chagrin as his hand slipped from the tape he was measuring her waist with. He started anew with the measurement and twisted slightly to make him drop it once more. His annoyance was evident, but the smile on Jasmine’s face proved that she knew exactly what was going on. The girl was smart, sassy, and sexy beyond measure for her age. Anna had pondered turning her as she’d be a fun companion to keep around, but she didn’t want her secret life being discovered either. Two of her kind meant twice the feeding and twice the evidence. It was a shame, she really was kind of lonely here.
Grinning back at Jasmine, Anna decided to taunt Digo a bit.
“Digo, have you washed my undergarments yet?”
“Yes, m’lady”
“And did you sniff them?”
“Wha… m’lady, no. Of course not.” He fell for her trap as Jasmine grinned again. He wasn’t too bright, but what he lacked in intelligence, he made up for in a girthy package she could almost taste.
“Then how would you know if they were clean or not?” Anna asked.
“Um… m’lady?” he asked, confused.
“For now on you will sniff anything that comes off of here,” Anna said, sliding her fingers between her legs, and both Digo and the dressmaker flushed red. “Understand?”
“Yes, m’lady.”
Jasmine giggled loudly, startling the dressmaker who dropped his tape again. Anna could not resist smiling at the girl. Maybe she could keep her for at least a while.
* * * * *
Hearing the clamor as messengers ran up the many steps to his throne room, Gnak walked into an adjoining chamber wearing the troll king’s body. Shifting back to the throne, he rejoined his orc body, tilting his head to the side as his neck cracked loudly.
“Do you think they bring important news?” Jen asked from somewhere inside his head.
“I don’t know. We’ll discover what they bring together.”
He wondered what message the goblins bore as they raced up the stairs, and wondered more why they always came in pairs. It was uselessly redundant.
Drumming the bone of his burned fingertips upon the arm of his immense throne, he waited impatiently. The city was near completion. It was unlike anything ever seen before. The forges rang out around the clock and the vaults were filled with gold, silver and jewels from the mines they had delved deep into the heart of the mountains. They had everything they needed and it was nearly time to march out and defeat Ishanya’s enemies.
There had been setbacks, of course. Those who would try and defy him and those who refused him, but none were his equal. Watching as the goblins skittered to a stop before him, dropping to their knees, he eyed the will they contained within them and smirked… looking forward to the battle that lay ahead.
“Your Majestyness,” the first goblin began, “there are things at the gate requesting an audience with you.”
“Things?” Gnak asked. “Elaborate.”
“A human has led fifty wolf men like those we fought against more than a year ago.”
“Is it the death mage?” Gnak asked, excitedly.
“It looks like a human soldier,” the second goblin explained.
“And they want to talk?” It was odd, Gnak thought. Why would the very people they fought just a year before wish to speak to him? It didn’t make sense, but he was curious. As it turned out, with his army nearly ready to march, Gnak could use as much information about the humans as he could muster. What a perfect opportunity.
“Bring them to me,” he ordered.
“All of them?” the first goblin asked.
“Every last one.”
Bowing their heads until they touched the floor, the goblin messengers departed as quickly as they had come. It had taken some time to assure the other races that he spoke for
both the troll and the Goblin kings, but now that it was understood, he was able to rule quite easily. Access to the memories of both the other kings helped as well. Gnak grinned. Soon he’d know all he needed about the humans, their cities, and their armies.
It was a full two hours before the human and his beast troops made it to Gnak’s keep, escorted by more than a thousand of his own troops. It was a small show of force to keep them in their place. His commanders had done well. Watching the human mount the stairs with his troops behind him, Gnak sat patiently upon his throne waiting for the man to speak.
“Your Highness, I am captain Greggory Heiss. I have come on behalf of King Garret Derringer of Valdadore, seeking truce. My king bids me to ask you to join him in battle against his brother, the unholy Seth Derringer, the Death Mage and king of Drakenhurst.”
Gnak pretended to mull it over. It was already his duty to Ishanya to rid the world of the abomination known as Seth Derringer, but what if he could have more?
“And in return for helping your king, what do I get? What will your king bestow upon my people for their sacrifices?” Gnak asked, enjoying the taste of the difficult human words.
“We’ve brought for you a gift of treasure, to show our king’s gratitude for your assistance in this matter,” the human said, gesturing back to a pair of large chests the wolf men carried. They were peculiar creatures who bobbed up and down as they breathed. The looked formidable enough, but seemed awkward in their movements. They were unnatural beings.
“Treasure?” Gnak questioned. “I have treasures beyond your comprehension, human. What more does your king offer in return for my aid in completing a task he is unable to do without my help?”
The human sneered at his insult, but kept his bearing.
“He will offer you all the loot, plunder, armor, and weapons off the deceased after the battle is over.”
“If I wanted trinkets, I’d take yours,” Gnak said, reaching out and stripping one of the wolf soldiers of his will, shifting himself into the body of the wolf man. “You see?” the wolf man spoke, turning to the human, “If I want something, it is mine,” he said, crossing the floor, walking towards his lifeless, frozen body upon the throne.
Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) Page 202