THE GOD BOX

by Barry B. Longyear

  "No, Korvas. You have yet to give your fear to the god box."

  "Well, shadow, what is it that I have been doing?"

  "When the fear becomes too crippling, you loan the box a small piece of your fear. As soon as you can, you take your fear back."

  "I don't like being afraid, Nanteria. Why would I do such a foolish thing as take back fear? I would just as soon take back a sour stomach or a headache."

  "You have done all three."

  "Oh, have I?"

  The shadow against the wall seemed to change shape, becoming a silhouette of . . . Captain Shadows, the cutthroats and their knives in the Blood Street Bazaar, the wings, teeth, and talons of Abrina's great winged lion. "Korvas, do you have a headache?"

  "Yes."

  "How is your stomach?"

  "Sour."

  "And your fears?"

  "I have them all back. These are all fears I had given the god box and now I have them back." I looked back at the water. "Why do I take them back? I don't like being afraid. I hate it."

  "Fear is how you attempt to control the future. You don't understand that the future is not yours to control. That belongs to the gods."

  I snorted out a cynical laugh. "That's not a great recommendation, Nanteria!"

  The shadow grew until it covered the wall, until it covered the ship, the ocean, the universe. I could not see my fingers in front of my face. Did Nanteria cut me off from all light because of my hasty comment? Did she blind me? Fear grabbed me by the legs and threatened to run me off the ship, over the railing, into the bottomless ocean.

  I held onto my god box with one hand and the railing with the other. I thought, why would Nanteria bring me this far only to blind and drown me as some kind of object lesson? I could turn over my fear to the god box, but what did Nanteria say I needed from the god box?

  Trust.

  I picked up the god box in both hands and said, "To you I give my fear. Do with it what you will. From you I ask that you grant me trust."

  I waited in the darkness, confident that what was happening was what was supposed to happen, and that when I was ready it would become light again. It amused me to find out that patience is a result of trust. That was when the shadow-goddess returned the shades of night to me. The blues, blacks, whites, and grays of the ocean, the black lines of the rigging against the moonlit clouds, the tiny pools of warmth made by the few oil lamps on deck.

  I saw First Mate Lanthus walking toward me. and I marveled at how different he looked. Instead of a cruel face and shifty eyes, he was a fine figure of an officer.

  "We have finished with the lady's quarters. and the captain has moved his table there. I have the watch right now, so I can't be with you tonight. However, I'm extending Captain Abzu's invitation to join him."

  "Thank you."

  He turned and I began to follow until, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a long neck with spiked fins coming out of the water supporting a ferocious head. It towered there higher than the tallest mast of the world's tallest ship. I stopped and looked over the railing. The shadows and waves continued to play among themselves, but the monster I thought I saw had vanished.

  "Is there something wrong?" asked Lanthus.

  "No." Somewhere my brand-new trust had slipped away. Had I only borrowed it from the box, returning it when the shadows returned the light? I pushed away from the railing and followed Lanthus, pondering shadow goddesses, fear, pirates, sea monsters, trust, and such.

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  Lanthus and the crew had done an excellent job of turning a damp, smelly cargo hold into a lady's cabin. A curtained bunk large enough for Abrina had been built into one side, leaving the area directly beneath the hatches open. A ladder led to the deck and to the special doorway that had been ordered by the captain. The table for dinner was located upon a platform that was three or more feet above deck level. Abrina sat in her special chair on the deck while the rest of us sat with our chairs up on the platform. It was something of a novelty to be looking at the giantess at almost eye level.

  The rest of the table's occupants were an odd lot. Captain Abzu was there, of course. To his left sat his second mate, Dentaat, who hailed from the barbarian kingdom of Ounri. He had unusually dark skin which contrasted sharply with his startling blue eyes and whiteblond hair. His hair must have been very long, but he kept it braided and wrapped around his head. There were long bone needles through his hair to keep it in place, and he ate from the point of a knife.

  To Dentaat's left was Lem Vyle, a former teacher and magician of note who was Delomas's agent on this voyage. Vyle had pale skin, a black beard salted with gray, and the most disconcerting gray eyes. They seemed to see all while revealing nothing.

  At the foot of the table was Abrina. I was to her left, and between me and the captain sat possibly the most beautiful and mysterious woman I had ever seen. Her long black hair framed her face with wispy curls. She was dressed in black trousers, slippers, and jacket topped by a deep purple, lacy robe. She was known only as Tah, and she was Lem Vyle's bodyguard.

  One of the crew members, introduced to us as Mahvat, sat off to one side strumming an Ahmritan stringed instrument called an utai. He played the thing quietly, and he seemed to be an expert. At least he seemed so to me, having only seen one other person—my father—attempt the forty-stringed guitar.

  Abzu raised his cup and said, "To Chara and to Ilan: may she protect us on our voyage, and may he forgive our trespass."

  In response Lem Vyle, Tah, and Abrina held up their cups, while the Ounrian second mate, Dentaat, held up his knife. I held up a leg of chicken. Together we toasted, "To Chara and to Ilan." When we were settled, Abrina spoke. "Captain Abzu, I thank you, Mate Lanthus, and your crew for preparing this cabin for me."

  "It was our pleasure, lady; however, I will pass on your thanks to my first officer and the crew." He quickly looked over the inside of the hold with that same practiced eye. When he concluded his inspection, he returned his gaze to Abrina. "It is to your liking, then?"

  "I find it quite comfortable."

  Tah sat back in her chair, her lips parted in a bit of a smile. "That bed is magnificent, Captain. There is enough room there for some highly fascinating games."

  The captain's face reddened. "We did our best, lady."

  "On such a bed," said Tah, "I could do my best."

  Abzu's face was redder than the Grave's Point light as Lem Vyle, without looking up, quietly said one word: "Tah."

  Tah returned to her dinner as Vyle addressed Abzu.

  "You must forgive my bodyguard, Captain. I fear her frankness is one of the penalties for too long an association with me." Seeing the confused looks from those at the table, he explained. "Among my poor gifts, I am a ziusu."

  He looked toward me as though I should know what a ziusu was. "I am not familiar with the term."

  "It is Ahmritan, and it means 'seer of lies.' It simply means that when someone tells me something that departs from the truth, I know it."

  "I take it you are not invited to many parties," said Abzu with a smile.

  Vyle faced the captain. "My gift does not require me to be a social boor. Knowing that a man is lying does not necessarily obligate me to point it out to him." He raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "However, you are correct. I am not invited to many parties." Those at the table laughed. "Nevertheless, my gift does make me a very valuable agent to Delomas."

  "Do you read minds?" I asked.

  "No. That is a different discipline. The mind reader sees substance—the 'what' of a thought. I see only true and false when thoughts are put to words and gestures. It is often the same thing, however, in practical application."

  I kept my gaze on Tah, but asked Lem Vyle, "How did you two get together? Do you mind me asking?"

  Vyle nodded at his bodyguard, and Tah looked at me with the damnedest eyes I have e
ver felt—something between fear and lust. She parted her lips and spoke. "I don't mind. Three years ago my master, an enemy of Delomas's, ordered me to kill Lem Vyle. Vyle watched as I took on and dispatched the two bodyguards he then employed. He hired me on the spot."

  As a minor chill danced upon my spine, I looked at Delomas's agent. "If you don't mind me asking, she betrayed her former master. How do you know she won't betray you for the right price?"

  Vyle smiled. "I am a ziusu, and I have already paid the right price."

  "What if she is offered more money?"

  "My dear Korvas, you find it difficult to trust, don't you?"

  "That's a strange sentiment from someone who employs a bodyguard and deals on behalf of a merchant of the Blood Street Bazaar."

  The agent wiped his mouth, leaned back in his chair, and studied me. I felt that, beneath his stare, every lie I had ever told was displaying itself upon my face like so many pimples. "A certain amount of caution is necessary from wherever one hails, my dear Korvas. A life dedicated to caution, however, is fear-ridden insanity." He held his hand open toward Tah. "I asked her how much money she would need to have to wish no longer for more. She answered, I saw that it was the truth, and it was a price I was able and willing to pay to obtain her services. She now has all of the money she needs, and I provide her with the rest of what she needs."

  "Which is?" I asked.

  "Action," completed Tah. "Master Vyle always takes me with him wherever he goes, and there are few persons in the world who have the price on his head that Lem Vyle carries. I discourage those who would, through some misguided sense of greed, attempt to collect that price."

  "I don't understand, Vyle. Why is there a price on your head? Are you a criminal?"

  "Quite the opposite. I'm so honest, some persons—mostly those in business and government—find it painful. Those who would rather not be hurt by my honesty put up the price. Merchant thieves, not city magistrates, called down the bounty hunters on me. You see, there are those who would rather not deal with an agent who is a ziusu, hence the price—"

  "—and the action," Tah completed.

  "Enough about us," Vyle said as he faced toward Abrina. "What is your story?"

  Abrina glanced at me, then looked back at Vyle. "I would tell, but I be but a part of a larger tale. Did I tell the truth?"

  "Yes. "

  Abrina looked at me. "Be there a reason not?"

  Abzu cleared his throat for attention. "I do have instructions from Master Delomas not to subject this lady and gentleman to questioning."

  Vyle grinned. "Why, I wonder? Friend Korvas, are you in trouble with the King's Guard?"

  Before the protest even made it to my lips, Vyle nodded. "I see. Now, with your dark skin and straight hair, I detect an Ahmritan in your family tree, yes?"

  "Yes."

  "But I sense that you know little or nothing of the language. Your speech comes from the less fashionable districts of Iskandar. It is intended to sound educated, however; thus we pose the question: Why is an overblown street git from Iskandar coming from the Valley of the Omergunts—lady Abrina's speech, of course—with a giantess, on a ship bound for Ahmrita under Delomas's protection, payment, and instructions of silence?" He leaned forward. "There are two of you?"

  The steam fairly shrieked from my collar. "First I'd like to settle this matter of the overblown street git ."

  "I meant no offense, friend Korvas."

  "I certainly took no offense, friend Vyle," said I as I wrapped my fingers around the handle of my knife. Before I could move my blade an inch from my pocket, I felt a pointed something pricking my neck. I looked, and the lovely Tah had the needle point of a dagger ready to zip through my jugular.

  "Please don't," she said.

  I removed my hand from my pocket, without the blade of course. Tah nodded her approval and put her knife back in its hiding place. At times, I thought, fear is a useful thing for one who plans on surviving a meal at this table.

  "Now," Vyle continued, "there are two of you?" Thinking of Nanteria and my god box, I held out my hands. "Well—"

  "More, then? Five? Three? Four of you. Very good. In our close company, the other two must be personages of a more spiritual character. Is that peculiar box one of them?"

  "I—"

  "I see." Vyle held up his hand and nodded. "The other, then, is a ghost, demon, troll, god, goddess—goddess, then." Lem Vyle turned his head slowly until he was looking Abrina full in the face. His eyebrows went up as he said, "The Hero and the Destroyer?" Abrina smiled, and Vyle looked at me. "You are the Guide?"

  "Now—"

  "Yes, now it all makes sense." He held up a finger. "Tretia—the Heterin Guard—no, Captain Shadows is on your trail; hence the no-questions caution from Delomas." Delomas's agent leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands over his belly. "I always thought the prophecy about the Hero and the Destroyer was a myth."

  Both Abzu and Abrina laughed out loud. "Excellent, Vyle," said the captain.

  Lem Vyle rubbed his temples and said, "Let me see if I can remember the oracle. 'Guided by the Mirror of the Second, the Hero will be found by the Second, who will be chosen by a father's hand, kept by the First, loved by the Mirror, and burned by the Mirror to be gathered by the Smoke.'"

  He opened his eyes, lowered his hand, and stared at me with those gray eyes. "There is more? No. Something different." He smiled. "With enough time and patience, friend Korvas, I could get the exact wording of the oracle and the reasons why it is different from the version we all know. Could you spare me the effort?"

  I slowly shook my head. "You are a frightening person, Lem Vyle. I am not surprised that you find few invitations to parties."

  "Actually, friend Korvas, I am not a frightening person. You are scared of me. There's a difference."

  I glanced at Tah. "I can see how being around this . . . person could affect you." Her lips filled my sight. "Now that I think about it, being around you could affect a person, too."

  She smiled and nodded toward me. "Is there any reason why we can't hear what you think is the real version of the oracle?"

  I looked around at my dinner companions. "I can't think of a single reason." I thought for a moment, then recited what I had seen in the book:

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  "The Child, orphaned by the cult,

  Is charged by the Smoke

  To protect the Seeker from harm

  Until the Smoke releases the Child

  To hand the Seeker to its Reflection.

  The Seeker shall find the Blade,

  And more, himself, beside the one

  Before Manku in Land-beyond-the-Sunrise

  All is Manku.

  At the tip of Ihtar's hand,

  Where float the lavender leaves,

  The Destroyer shall meet the Blade,

  Leaving only one.

  All is Manku."

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  As I finished, Lem Vyle was filtering the words of the oracle through his special gifts. I felt Tah's hand upon my left arm. "The Blade is not a man?" she asked, an eager look on her face.

  "It doesn't say."

  Vyle's lips moved silently as his eyes looked upward. "'. . . the Seeker to its Reflection./ The Seeker shall find the Blade,/ And more, himself, beside the one. . . .' Friend Korvas, there is no Guide in this version, unless you are both the Seeker and the Seeker's Reflection."

  "What a pleasure it is to know something about myself that you don't."

  "The Seeker was your twin brother, then? My condolences for your loss."

  I folded my arms and scowled, wondering where one might contribute to the bounty fund on Lem Vyle's head.

  Vyle placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin upon his clasped fists. "Do you believe in the prophecy, Korvas? Do you believe in Manku? Do you believe the world will end unless someone kills the Destroyer?"

  I looked deeply within myself. "No. I don't really believe in any of it. I do believe that Captain Shadows believes in
it enough to kill Abrina and me."

  "You spoke the truth as you saw it, friend Korvas. Yet there is a part of you that thinks you are lying."

  I raised my arms in despair. "What would you have me do? I have spent my life not believing in the gods. Yet these past few days have shown me things that can be explained only by the existence of the gods."

  I placed the god box on the table. "This, for just one example. Is it just magic, or is there a god inside? It acts and talks like a god, and it is certainly as confusing as one. On the other hand, it's only a box. I have made god boxes that work as well as this one out of candy bowls. I have had a goddess come out of the night, stand next to me, and talk to me, yet I would rather believe that I am overtired or have gone insane. I am at my wits' end."