by M. M. Perry
“It is not so easy. Much like us, their power is eternal. Beings with power like the gods will simply appear after a time if we were simply to strike them down. They might not look the same or even be the same beings but their power, is dispersed without being claimed, would eventually coalesce and form a new… will. There is a risk they could be worse, more spiteful. Vicious creatures of great strength who only wish to consume and destroy, not create as these gods have done. It is unpredictable. It would not matter for you. By the time that happened, you would be gone. Everything for you and your kind would be over. The next era would begin.”
“If it is so hopeless—we kill them and they destroy the world, we let them alone and they destroy the world—then why did you even come here? I thought you were going to help. But now you’re saying there is no hope?” Nat asked. Everyone turned to him a little stunned. Nat was rarely outspoken, and normally especially reticent on those rare occasions the entire group met.
“I’m sorry,” he said scratching his head, “I’m just a little frustrated. It all seems rather hopeless. I don’t like thinking about it.”
Gunnarr thumped Nat on the back.
“Warriors are hope.”
Nat looked up at the big man then nodded, a wry smile on his face.
“Yeah, I guess we are.”
“His question is a good one, though,” Cass said. “Why are you helping us?”
The Ambassador reared his head back and looked to the sky. He paused, staring unmoving into the distance for so long that Cass was uncertain if he was going to answer. When he finally lowered his head, putting his chin nearly level with the table’s top, he let out a long sigh through his nostrils. The force of it set the goblets on the table careening to near tipping.
“Being without is wearisome. So much time…” The Ambassador paused again, staring through Cass. The empty black of his giant eye seemed to grow a shade darker, and for a moment Cass felt an overwhelming sense of vertigo, as if she was starting to fall towards it. The Ambassador blinked, and the spell was broken. Cass shuddered.
“We have seen the cycles repeat in all their possible variations, and in any way that matters, each turning is the same as one that has come before,” he continued. “There is nothing new, nothing to delight in. There is the cycle, and there is us. There is nothing left inside the cycle that we yearn for any longer… save our kin. When we touch their minds, sometimes still there is joy in that communion. But we cannot hear them when so many are without. So we come within. We, the caretakers of the cycle.”
“So you’re here because you were bored?” Cass asked.
“No, you misunderstand. With each new cycle there is hope that something wonderful might come of it. But with each failure, with each seemingly inevitable descent into the wars, madness, and destruction of the gods, it seemed ever less likely. This cycle we had hoped we could keep the gods from destroying our… garden. We thought a more delicate touch—rather than wait for them to raze everything, we would simply prune back the most noxious weeds,” the Ambassador seemed pleased with his metaphor. “We had to cull, and thought perhaps that would help. When it did not, we knew that we must wait for the next cycle. We supposed the garden needed to be started again, with a fresh crop. We saw another long, tiresome cycle before us, with little reason to think the next would be different. But then you came to us, with a hopelessly improbable plan to challenge the gods. There was a thought. Perhaps, we did not need to start again. Perhaps, this could change things enough. Free will has proven a powerful force in the past rivaling, in its way, even the power of the gods. You showed us something unexpected… something new for the first time in countless cycles,” the Ambassador said.
Cass thought it rather magnanimous of the great old dragon to say so until he added skeptically, “perhaps.”
“Then we ought to figure out what we need to do next. We don’t want to die in the interim between war and… war. Do you know what we need to do to… change things enough as you put it?” Cass asked.
“There are two ways we have considered. You could convince the gods not to fight.”
Everyone looked around at each other until all eyes eventually turned to Cass.
“Yeah… about that,” she started.
“We understand this is highly unlikely,” the Ambassador said. “Never has there been a cycle where they have not eventually fallen into conflict. So war they shall. But it is not the war that brings about the end. For the world to be destroyed, the gods must assume the power of those they have defeated and be driven mad by it. If the gods would instead cede this power to us, we could absorb it without ill effect. But it could not be a half measure. Once absorbed, their essences become inseparably entwined. They would be giving up their existence. There would be no more gods.”
“Except… you. Who would now be much more powerful? Maybe you lot haven’t heard the old adage, never trust a god. Why should we trust you with this power, any more than the gods?” Cass asked, suddenly wary.
The Ambassador laughed then. The air thrummed with its reverberations.
“We are not gods. We have no interest in this reality, save our duties as curators. That is our function. It is why we exist. We are custodians, nothing more,” the Ambassador said. “We have no interest in power. And no interest in explaining how the cycles of reality work to a mortal who has little, if anything, to do with it, even if your limited sapience could conceive of reality as we do. You are the one who gave us this thought; that perhaps we need not return to dust to start again. As you said, it is inconvenient for us. Regardless, we would not hold the power. I have just informed you no creature we know of could hold it. We would simply disperse it out unto the world evenly. We would not allow it to… pool as it were, into new beings of power. I have explained as much as I am willing now. Trust us. Or not. It makes little difference to us. Let the gods do as they always have, and most likely, will. Existence ends. We start anew. As we have always done.”
Cass wasn’t sure they should trust the dragon, but she was sure that, unlike the gods, the dragons truly seemed disinterested in what humans did. They kept to themselves, hidden far away. The gods, on the other hand, were meddlesome and dangerous. Until the dragons proved otherwise, she would just have to assume they meant them no harm. Cass decided to gamble, hoping that so long as the dragons remained interested in the outcome, they’d at least lend their help in the fight against the gods.
“Manfred,” Cass said as she turned to him. He had yet to offer his thoughts, despite being the one who had discovered the prophecy that had gotten them this far. “Is there anything in your prophecy that speaks of this? You were so certain at the outset that the dragons were the key to saving your people. Is it because they avert the gods’ war?”
“There just isn’t much of the scrolls left to work with,” Manfred said, exasperated. “And what is there is maddeningly vague. Most of my people expected when the dragons returned that we would simply be… fixed. That our families and humanity would be restored. I was fairly certain I had to get the dragons to the plains. But beyond that? The scrolls are silent, or what they would have revealed was on the lost portions. But maybe if I brought the pieces we have left back here... Red could give them a look. Fresh eyes may see something I didn’t.”
“Well, pop on over and pick them up then. Let’s have a look,” Cass said.
“It won’t be that easy, Cass. I might need you to come with me, to help convince my people to release them. They weren’t exactly welcoming when I went back,” Manfred said, dusting invisible lint off his shoulder.
“Because you couldn’t convince me to use Timta’s boon to restore your people?” Cass asked.
“No. I guessed that might be what needed to happen. A god’s favor to us, something that the lost portions of the scrolls would have revealed. But Timta made it clear that no god could so directly counteract the power of another. So in that, I was wrong. And that is why they are mad. Because I followed the prophecy to what we
believed was its end. And nothing happened. I am still djinn. They are still djinn. My plan failed. But… still… the scrolls though, there are a few other things in them that could help. Maybe. I suppose.”
Manfred looked cagey.
“Like what, Manny?” Cass asked. For the last couple days, she suspected the djinn had been less than forthcoming about his own interpretation of the scrolls. She’d been unable to reconcile his heartfelt pleading that she use her boon on his people, followed by his lack of dismay when she didn’t.
“There are depictions of the war,” Manfred shrugged. “A big one. I told you as much in the pub all those years ago. It’s not pretty.”
Manfred’s normally animated face became a mask. Cass could tell the secretive djinn was hiding something again but for the first time she didn’t like it. In the past she had simply written off his intermittent caginess as a quirk of his people. They were furtive, rarely venturing out of the complex of caves that ran beneath barren Xenor, let alone leaving their island continent as Manfred had. They so rarely choose to interact with the outside world that most people thought the djinn to be a fairy tale. But this time it was different. Manfred was withholding more than information this time. He was trying to hide his emotion as well and she had no idea why. When her memories returned, her caution had as well. Years of dealing with powerful beings taught her to be wary. They were predictable in one aspect only; they always put their own needs and desires ahead of those they deemed inferior. Cass wondered what this djinn wouldn’t be willing to do if it meant liberating his people, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to pry it out of him here and now. She changed tactics, hoping to put Manfred at ease again.
“Why do I have to go specifically?”
Manfred looked up at Cass and the mask fell away, replaced by his usual impish smile.
“My fellows, as you can guess, always respond better to women. It’s to be expected when a god whisks away every single female in your race and leaves the guys behind for a few millennia. There are some who don’t mind, of course, but they are in the minority. Plus, you’ve got that demi-god charisma thing happening. That will help. And last, but not least. The remaining believers in the prophecy are the ones that will be most resistant to removing the scrolls from Xenor. You were the one that found the sunstone. It places you smack in the middle of the prophecy, as a key player. Your presence might help sway them.”
“You mean the fellas that think you got everything wrong?”
“Well,” Manfred said scratching his chin, “yes. But I might be able to convince them that was only the first step. They believed me once… maybe with your help I can get them on my side again.”
Cass looked around the table.
“Anyone have any other ideas?”
No one spoke up.
“Well, that’s our next step then. Manny and I are off to Xenor,” Cass said. Gunnarr looked as if he was about to volunteer to go along with her when Cass raised her hand to stop him.
“I know you want to keep an eye on my back, big fella,” Cass started, “But I think maybe our cause would be best served with you working on something else. I don’t think I have to worry about the gods when I’m with the djinn. I’m sure they’ll keep me safe,” she said looking to Manfred for reassurance. He nodded vigorously, smiling broadly. He wanted, more than anything, to have some time alone with Cass, so he could explain to her fully why he hadn’t been more forthcoming before about the scrolls.
“I think it’s time to bring someone new into the fold,” Cass said. “I’ve been thinking. Timta’s not going to be real up front about what is going on with the gods. We are mortals after all, and while she did give me a boon, I think it was more to try and keep me on her good side than an invitation to a seat at the big girls’ table. I think she saw these guys,” Cass said gesturing to the dragon, “and thought it would behoove her to make me happy. But she had her limits. She left me in that cave of deathsglove to fend for myself after she granted my request. She simply vanished as soon as Midassa took his last breath. She went right back to treating me like I was wavering on the edge of being a nuisance. So, I’ve been thinking it’s time to bring a god to our table. One that’s a bit more tractable.”
Gunnarr looked confused. Then he realized what Cass was suggesting.
“He’ll hit me with his stick,” he groaned.
“I’m counting on it.”
Cass stared at Gunnarr, trying to convey with a look that she had another reason for requesting Gunnarr go off to find a bitter, ineffectual little god without making it obvious to Manny and the Ambassador. They had their own secrets and motives, and she had hers, and this particular gambit might not be conducive to their plans.
Gunnarr wasn’t sure what Cass was trying to impart, but he trusted her enough to take it on faith that she had a good reason for wanting him on this task. He made a mental note to speak with her before she left for Xenor. He nodded in agreement. Cass turned to the rest of the group.
“So, Manny and I to Xenor, Gunnar and…”
Driscol stood.
“I take the young one,” Driscol said gripping Nat on the shoulder, his words heavy with the accent of Dyim. “We will go find warriors. Brave warriors, bring them here to Faylendar. Form an army! Let the gods come! We will fight them off, keep this one city safe from their harms.”
Cass smiled, “That sounds like a great idea.”
“Yes!” Callan said enthusiastically, “Yes, please, bring all the help you can here. I mean, those other cities are lost causes now anyway, right?”
Callan felt his wife’s hand on his arm and he quieted as he blushed, embarrassed.
“We will welcome any help you can bring, Driscol,” Melody said. “Make sure they know we will outfit them with anything they need, and they will of course have room and board for as long as they are here. We will also pay them for their trouble.”
Callan stiffened. Given his druthers, he’d have been a touch less generous with the kingdom’s rapidly dwindling coffers, but he realized Melody had the right of it.
“I will stay here with Viola,” Selina said. “Maybe there is something we can dig up in all those tomes in the seer’s library. Something that will help when the scrolls come back with you, dear.”
Cass nodded.
“My companions and I will roost nearby in the Valley of Clouds,” the Ambassador’s voice boomed. “We will be out of sight there, but close enough the gods should still leave this city be. We will take the nursemaid with us. She will be safe. You may contact her if there is something you need of us. But I warn you against using up our goodwill with frivolous requests. I will take her first to our nesting grounds to the south. Then I will bring a small number of my fellows to the valley. The rest will wait for the appropriate time. We do not wish to agitate the gods prematurely. You will need time to do as you must.”
The Ambassador lowered his huge claw toward Anya and held it there, open. Anya looked at it, understanding the obvious invitation to climb aboard. She turned to Cass and the others questioningly.
“Go with them,” Cass said. “Send updates by teeton.”
Anya hopped into the great claw of the Ambassador and it closed protectively around her.
The Ambassador spread his boundless, leathery wings and rose slowly off the ground, the wash of air pressing the group down into their seats, knocking goblets, vases, and every other item on the table tumbling to the ground. Cass watched him rise, her hair whipping franticly around her head. Callan felt a sigh of relief escape him, and was glad the noise of lift off covered it up. The Ambassador tilted his head downward, one great eye pointed at Cass.
“Be careful, half mortal. Your mother will be watching you. She will not trust you any more than you trust her. Mind your words when you aren’t protected. The other, he is hunting you always. Do not leave yourself vulnerable. We would find it agreeable if you succeeded.”
The dragon’s slow ascent turned into a swift flight away. Cass watched the dragon
disappear beyond the rim of the castle’s walls. She hoped Anya would be safe. Her people would not be very welcoming after everything that had happened.
Gunnarr tucked a small coin pouch into his pack before snapping it up. He turned to Cass as he shouldered the pack.
“Before I go, did you want to tell me the real reason I’m off to find an ineffectual god?”
“I can’t,” Cass said looking around the room, “not yet. But I’ve got Viola and Manny working on it. They’re creating a safe space for us. But don’t worry. This isn’t busy work. I have a feeling he’ll be useful.”
“Well that would be a first,” Gunnarr said incredulously, “but okay.” He leaned in and kissed Cass gently. “You be safe with that wee blue beastie. He’s gotten a little odd since he’s come back from Xenor. I’m not really sure what happened when he went back to recharge his power, and I doubt he’d tell us if we asked, but based on how he’s been acting, I’m pretty sure it’s not all that great for any of us. And now you’re going there. After failing to fulfill their prophecy.”
“Yeah, I know. But I think I can handle the blue guys. And let’s not forget the bonus prize. Being there might mean the other issue won’t bother me for a little while. Maybe I’ll finally get a full night’s sleep.”
Gunnarr’s face grew serious.
“Maybe they can help with that.”
“Maybe,” Cass said, though she was doubtful.
Chapter 2
Cass felt as if her insides dropped out of her. She could see the castle around her and a great, glittering cavern at the same time. The castle slowly faded away like an afterimage burned into her eyes. She closed her eyes, feeling an ache bloom behind them. She pressed her temples gently with her fingertips, waiting for the pain to subside, then opened her eyes again. All she could see was the cavern.
“You get used to it,” Manfred said.