THE GOD BOX

by Barry B. Longyear

  Syndia looked at me for a moment, then returned to the book. "I will be staying here."

  "Eh?"

  "Korvas, you no longer need me. We have found your Hero, and now you know where to take her."

  "You began this, priestess! I would think—"

  She touched a finger to my lips. "This is all part of the scheme of things, Korvas. It is a wheel that began turning long before the universe was born." She placed the amulet of Sabis around my neck and pointed at the god box. "You have everything you need." She held out her hands toward the countless books and scrolls. "I have what I need."

  "But Syndia . . ." I faced Abrina. "Talk to her!" Abrina smiled, and I turned to see the Nant priestess, Syndia, dissolve into thin air. I passed my hand through where she had been standing. Nothing was there that could be touched. That explained why I couldn't see her through the god box. "What about witnessing miracles, Syndia? You can't witness them if you're not there."

  "She'll be there, Korvas," said Abrina.

  "How can you know that?"

  "When I see her I know the goddess Nanteria."

  "The goddess? Syndia?" I frowned as I lowered myself into an uncomfortable chair. Near the surface of my thoughts were things I needed to consider. I glanced back at Abrina. "Let's close this place. Once we're out of here, call out your creature and pump him up. We're going to Kienosos to find passage to Ahmrita."

  The giantess grinned. "Posing as husband and wife?" I rubbed my eyes for a moment and decided to deal with questions of that sort once they were posed, and not a second before.

  ▫

  ▫

  ▫

  2 4

  ▫

  ▫

  ▫

  Between the stars and the shadow of the world, Abrina and I flew upon the winged lion toward the port city of Kienosos. She sat behind me, and when I was near mad from the cold, she put her arms around me. Once out of the mountains, gliding toward the southern coast, it was warmer and I could stop my shaking. As we flew, the giantess sang to her creature.

  I didn't know the song, nor the language in which it was sung, but it was a song of love. While she sang, I argued with myself.

  Why was it that this expedition, beginning with so many, had been pared down to Abrina and me? If Syndia had indeed been Nanteria, goddess of smoke, what had been her purpose in being with us? Was it to gift me with the god box and Sabis's sapphire? Was it to test me? Was it both? Was it to find the Mankua faith's hidden library? But why would a goddess need help in finding such a thing? The gods may not be able to speak very clearly, but they are supposed to know everything. Perhaps the gods don't know everything and that is why they must keep us alive by saving us from ourselves.

  Syndia was certainly a goddess, which placed an unbeliever such as myself into a very awkward position. The most awkward part of that position wasn't admitting that I might have been wrong about the existence of the gods. It was this: out of all the men and women in the world, just who is Korvas to be doing the work of the gods? Why would Nanteria, or the god of this god box, make me a necessary part of the inevitable path of the universe? These questions made my supposed selection a highly suspicious honor.

  Was it not more likely that, through deception and trickery, I had been enlisted to do the work of the Destroyer? But, again, why would the Destroyer choose me? Why would he not, instead, find a man who was at least a competent sinner? Surely there must be a burgeoning young prince of evil somewhere with the appropriate skills who would like the work and appreciate the notice. Captain Shadows came easily to mind.

  Abrina's hand pointed toward the distance. I squinted my eyes against the wind and saw the lights of Kienosos. As we came closer I could make out the navigation lights in the harbor, the sedate and orderly sheva's palace, temples, and government buildings, cupped by the final meander of the Great Serpent. Here, however, they called the river the Nepri after the last of the Kienosan kings.

  The brightest section of the city, of course, was where the wealthy went to have their pockets cleaned. As we glided above it we could hear the chaos of music, singing, and bellowing that accompanied the separation of fools from their money.

  "Korvas, where should Url put down?"

  "It's late. Daybreak isn't far away and Url can't take us across the ocean. While it's still dark we should get near the docks. That's where we hide you and look for passage to Ahmrita."

  "Hide me?"

  Her voice sounded hurt. "Abrina, Kienosos is supposed to be independent, but the Heterin Guard has a tentacle here. Do you see that large temple there? The one next to the mouth of the river?"

  "Yes."

  "That's Kienosos's Heterin Temple—look, they're changing the guard." I looked back at her. "With your size and that ax, if you were seen Shadows would find out in no time that we were here. If he knew that, it wouldn't take long for him to find out where we are going. His agents would be scouring the docks within moments."

  The giantess was silent for a moment, then she patted my shoulder with surprising gentleness. "Where be the docks?"

  "Across the river from the Heterin Temple are the old docks. It's a rough place, but we ought to be able to find a ship without being asked too many questions." I looked down at my god box. "Provided I can pay the going rate."

  Abrina chattered and called at the winged lion and it swooped down past the lights and across the water toward the infamous waterfront district of Kienosos. It had been many years since I had been there, and my feeling was that I could go the rest of my life without ever seeing it again.

  As Abrina had Url come to roost on the dark roof of a deserted warehouse, my fingers sought out the scars on my left side that I had received upon my most recent visit to the waterfront's Blood Street Bazaar. A fellow with a knife, bad breath, and a remarkable lack of good taste had insisted that my purse belonged to him. Two local citizens held me while I was separated from my money, and, when I threatened to call in the city guard, the fellow with the knife ripped into my guts with a rather long blade. I remembered the look on his face. He seemed slightly amused, as though I should have learned the local rules before walking into his corner of the underworld.

  Url again became the size of my thumb, and I stood on the tarred roof looking across the housetops of Bay Street toward the lights of the bazaar. Abrina knelt next to me. "Korvas?"

  "What?"

  "Are you afraid?"

  "Afraid? Me?"

  "Yes, you."

  "Nonsense, my dear. I have been in my time thief, soldier, assassin, and more. I am not afraid. I am petrified."

  "I will go with you."

  "No. I have explained why. Just let me give my fear to my little friend here, and I will be fine." I turned to her and pointed at the roof. "Stay here. I don't want to have to worry about you."

  "Worry about me?"

  "Indulge me. please."

  I picked up her hand with both of mine. kissed it, and scooted over the rooftops until I found a stairway down to the street. Even at this hour it was overflowing with horse teams pulling huge vans, men and women scurrying around pushing carts, a few dark-eyed loiterers who were furtively waiting for opportunity to slither by. It was brutal, loud, and smelled of rot, spice, salt air, gold, and dead fish.

  Once on the street. I stayed back in the shadows and tried to get my heart to calm down. I had my knife in one hand and my god box in the other. I needed to make a choice. I opened a drawer on the god box and whispered into it, "I give you most of my fear, and while I'm at it, you can have a good piece of my bad luck." I decided to keep some of my fear. On one's way to the Blood Street Bazaar, a little fear is simply good sense. The river bottom is crowded with the foolish brave who entered Blood Street with trust in their hearts, flowers in their hair, and a song on their lips.

  The drawer closed on its own. I put the knife into the pocket of my robe. walked across Bay Street, and entered Blood Street. There was a shadow in a doorway talking to another shadow while eyes studie
d me and inventoried my pockets from a hundred dark comers.

  A shadow stepped out in front of me. "Friend?"

  My hand stole into my pocket and wrapped itself around the handle of my knife as my feet stopped and my knees turned to jelly. I could hardly speak as I fought with my tongue about what to say. I wanted to fire back with a clever remark that would show the utter contempt in which I held the fellow. Such a display would, perhaps. convince the fellow that, for unapparent reasons. I was too dangerous to attack. Another part of me wanted to scream and run. Hence, I stood there like a marble study in cowardice. The shadow walked around me and greeted another shadow. Together they walked toward the bazaar.

  I found a portion of wall that was clear of threats. I leaned against it, inhaled and exhaled. I was at a loss as to how to proceed. Courage was foolhardy. yet fear was crippling. I held the god box in front of me and asked, "Why didn't you work this time?"

  The box spoke to my mind. "You took back your fear."

  "Then what do I do now?"

  Just then, to the left, I saw a richly clad man walking quickly down my side of the street toward the bazaar. He was being followed by two hefty-looking shadows. He looked to be a man of substance—hardly a thief—hence, he would be the one to ask for information about securing passage to Ahmrita. I patted my god box and stepped away from the building, but before I could utter a word, the man yelped. The two toughs following him abruptly returned from whence they came, and the man himself pulled a purse from his belt and threw it into my hands.

  "There," he said, "now just leave me be!"

  He quickly walked around me and continued toward the bazaar with an increased pace. I felt the weight of the purse and had only a moment of delicious temptation. However, the honesty of the Nants and the divine nature of my mission corrupted my more profitable instincts. I turned and began running after the man. "Sir, stop!"

  His pace picked up a good deal and we dodged through and around the carts, camels, and donkeys crowding the way. As he came to where Blood Street widens and becomes the edge of the bazaar itself, a horse and wagon pulled in front of him, blocking his route.

  I grabbed him by his shoulder and said, "Now I've got you!" which even then struck me as a possibly poor choice of words.

  The man turned about and had another, larger, purse in his hands. "Here. Take everything! Take it all! Only spare me!"

  I laughed, which again struck me as being possibly unsettling to this man who thought he was my victim. "Fellow, I am not robbing you. Keep your purse, and take back this one, as well."

  His glance darted around until he had examined every wheel and dung heap in this end of Blood Street. "Where are your two confederates?"

  For a fear-filled moment I thought he was referring to Abrina and Uri, but then I remembered the two shadows who had fled when I stepped out to talk to the man. "I never met them before. I simply wanted to ask you for directions."

  "Directions?"

  "Yes." I supposed that this fellow entering my life was what I needed right then from the god box. It gave me an unusually clear view of my own ridiculous panic. His face became very red and he angrily snatched the purses from my hand.

  "I suppose you expect some kind of reward for this display of honesty."

  "Please, sir, nothing of the sort. I would just like to know where I should go to obtain passage to Ahmrita."

  He arched an eyebrow at me as he tied his purses to his belt. "What have you done?"

  "Done?"

  "Fellow, you wouldn't be seeking passage on Blood Street unless you were on the run. Who is after you?"

  "Have you ever heard of Captain Shadows?"

  Both of the man's eyebrows went up. "Of the Heterin Guard in Iskandar?"

  "The same." I waited for further questions, but the man stood staring at me. "Aren't you going to ask me why Shadows is on my trail?" I inquired.

  The man shook his head. "I doubt if even you know that." He tapped the side of his head. "Captain Shadows doesn't exactly ride a four-legged horse, if you know what I mean."

  "I most certainly do. Can you help me?"

  He nodded. "Perhaps, but not here. By what name are you called?"

  "Korvas."

  "I am called Delomas. Come with me, then, Korvas." I followed the man called Delomas across the traffic at the edge of the marketplace into the bazaar itself. At this hour there were only a few customers, but the merchants appeared willing to keep their tents and stalls open. There was a clear place toward the center for farmers and less wealthy merchants who displayed their produce or merchandise from a rug or directly on the paving stones. My years in the Iskandar market came back to me, and it was with gratitude that I followed Delomas to the opposite side of the bazaar.

  We came to a substantial building crowned with minarets and a gold and blue onion dome. There were two magnificent private guards flanking the doorway, resplendent in blue silks and silver-studded swords. They saluted as Delomas approached, but they seemed to be surprised at their master's appearance. I was curious to know whether they were surprised to see him arrive on foot rather than on a litter of suitable distinction, or that he had arrived at all.

  Once inside, my eyes were feasted by the rich goods that filled the huge room. Bolts of fabulous silks were draped across gold-worked furniture standing upon carpets so rich and deep it tempted one to try and swim in them. Magnificent porcelain statues, ornate cases of gold and silver bracelets, rings, and chains, articles of blown and cast glass, and intricate tapestries were hung all around.

  I must admit, the inclination to review my refusal of a reward passed through my mind several hundred times. It appeared that Delomas was in a position to pay rewards that could beggar national treasuries. Nevertheless, I followed him through a curtained doorway into another magnificent room, twice as large and filled with ten times the riches. In the center of these riches was a silk-covered hassock upon a raised platform of multicolored cushions. Delomas climbed up to the hassock, sat upon it, and crossed his legs.

  "Muzto," he called.

  "Your servant, master," called a voice from behind me. That was the first time I knew that we had been followed. It was frightening how quietly those huge guards could move.

  Delomas held out his hand toward another hassock and said to me: "Please enjoy my poor hospitality, what there is of it, Korvas."

  "My thanks." I sat upon the richness and made an effort to hide my shabby boots beneath my robe, which, in the center of all that finery, was also getting to look a bit ragged.

  Delomas pointed toward a doorway on the far side of the room. "Muzto, when I walked through the door of my own business establishment, my very own guards looked astonished to see me. Can you tell me why that is?"

  The guard held his hands to his sides and bowed. "Great master, it is just that we were told that you had been killed in the bazaar."

  "Ah. I see. And who was it who passed on this tragic bit of information?"

  "Your commander of the household guard, master. Nigiza."

  "I see." Delomas nodded quietly as his face became very cold. Through hooded eyes he looked at Muzto. "Take Bakku with you and bring Nigiza to me. Say nothing to him."

  "As you wish, master."

  "And send Eshkigal to me," Delomas added.

  "As you wish, master." The guard bowed and left the room. No sooner had he gone through the doorway than he was replaced by a liveried servant who approached Delomas and bowed. "You wished to see me, master?"

  "We have a valued guest, Eshkigal. Bring refreshments."

  As the servant bowed out of the room, Delomas looked at me and smiled as he blushed. "I apologize for being so brusque when we first met, Korvas. I fear I was terribly embarrassed by my display of fright. I've had a harrowing day, and dawn has yet to make an appearance. To begin, my litter never arrived at my home, my household staff all seemed to be elsewhere, and it was vital that I be here early today. I am to meet with an important person in a few minutes to close a deal for a
handsome sum. Of course, this meant that I would be carrying such a sum with me. There was only one person—my trusted Nigiza—who knew, and who could have arranged all of these mishaps, leaving me at the mercy of those two knife artists you chased away; confederates of my guard commander, no doubt."

  "My good Delomas, I'd hardly say that I chased them away."

  "Nevertheless, when I noticed those two cutthroats sniffing at my heels, you can believe I sent an urgent prayer to my patron, Nalas, for her intervention. No sooner had I uttered my prayer than you appeared, friend Korvas."

  "I fear I make an unlikely angel."

  "Who can argue with the tools chosen by the gods? Remember what the great philosopher Zaqaros once said: 'If we could see as the gods and choose as the gods, we would be the gods.'"