Whom the Gods Fear (Of Gods & Mortals Book 3)

by M. M. Perry

  Viola finished wrapping up Cass and sat back on the ground. She leaned against the wall and tucked her knees under her arms.

  “How do you feel now?”

  “I feel like it doesn’t matter if I’m trying to save my world, that’s a good enough reason. Striving to keep your loved ones happy, isn’t that a worthy goal of life? I’ve always thought so before. It’s simpler than saving the world. Perhaps it’s not as noble. But it’s truer. I want Gunnarr to ride alongside me for as long as he wants to. I want you to go back to Julia and continue helping Callan not be too much of an ass. I want Nat to be able to discover what it is he truly wants out of life. I want Manfred… I want him to free his sister. And… to be free of this life that has given him so much misery. If a side effect of making sure that happens is saving the world, I’ll take it.”

  “Sounds pretty good to me, too,” Viola said.

  “Maybe we should wake up Manny and get on our way. The wet dessert isn’t particularly close.”

  They went outside to greet those who remained. Nat and Viola had brought a strong contingent of warriors from the ship, but not all of them. Korick and Lasha stood when Cass came out. Korick looked particularly pleased.

  “I am so glad you survived. It would truly be heartbreaking if you fell so soon after being reunited with Gunnarr. Not that serving his needs is the only reason you should survive!” Korick added hastily.

  “Yeah I know, I have all these other people to serve, too,” Cass said.

  Korick stammered a few sounds before Cass smiled at him.

  “Easy there, fella. I was joking. I’m also glad to be alive. For many reasons, including the one you mentioned.”

  Cass looked over at Gunnarr who hid a small grin of amusement behind his hand. Cass could see the leviathan off in the distance, already rotting in the morning sun, several long spears piercing its side. The warriors who came to help had likely jabbed the beast to be sure it would not stir and was well and truly dead.

  “We need to go to the wet dessert,” Cass began, calling them all to attention. “Not all of us. I’ll go, Gunnarr, Nat, Viola and… Manfred. The rest should make their way back to the ship. I don’t know where the gods will next fight, but we should be ready to move wherever we are needed. The ship is the best bet for that. Hopefully the dragons will aid us once again in taking us to our destination. I would, of course, appreciate any volunteer who would be willing to organize those heading back to the ship.”

  Cass noticed Korick started to step forward but Lasha held him back. She didn’t blame the Cartan. They had been in more than their fair share of peril already. Oleg stepped forward.

  “I will make sure we get where we are needed most.”

  “Thank you, Oleg,” Cass said.

  As the two groups began to form up, Korick approached Cass.

  “I’m sorry. I would lead the others. I am willing and ready for that fight. But Lasha is not ready. Right now, things are very strange and different for her. I need to stay with her and help her get used to not being with the Cartan anymore. And… I think maybe she’s afraid this is the end. I think she doesn’t want to lose the rest of our time. She sacrificed much just to be with me.”

  “It’s ok, Korick. I really do understand. You stick with the warriors until you find a safe place to hole up. The pub maybe? I’m not saying you need to fight, but things are going to get hairy. It might not be safe to be off on your own somewhere when the fire starts raining down from the skies.”

  “Yeah, I’m getting that,” he said looking around at the blackened land and broken statues around them. “I surely hope they choose to battle somewhere far from people the next time as well. If these statues couldn’t hold up to their wrath, there isn’t a city that’s been built that could.”

  Cass followed Korick’s gaze, her eyes lingering on the blackened ground. The images of the rooftops beneath the battle in the ancient djinn scrolls flitted through her mind.

  “Let’s hope.”

  Korick headed toward the group where Lasha was waiting for him. As they moved off Chort walked over to Cass.

  “Oh, Chort… you’ve been so quiet during all this. I do hope you’ll be with us on our journey to the Wet Desert.”

  “Are you perhaps looking for Toren’s stolen sword? His notes?”

  Cass remained silent. She knew the situation was about to get sticky.

  “I thought as much. Well, you don’t really have a choice then. You’ll need me.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Cass.

  “There is a protection there. Only a god could overcome it,” Chort said as he flourished his hands around himself, “and I am, if you recall, still a god.”

  “You aren’t affected by any of this, are you?” Cass asked gesturing around her at the scorched land.

  “This? No. They were not my friends. I have no friends. Do not try to distract me. We are going to the Wet Desert, are we not? Because we don’t have time for you to wheedle more information out of me. They’ll come back down. This,” Chort gestured all around them, “has given many of them strength they’ve never even dreamed of. It won’t be long now. They’ll want it all, soon enough.”

  “Alright then, god, you can explain on the way,” Cass said, her eyes flitting to the sky where three huge figures were closing in.

  “Ah yes, the dragons. Again.” Chort mumbled. “Fine, we will go to your Wet Desert. We will find nothing. There is nothing to be found in the Oasis. But we will go. You will see. And finally you will understand that you should have just listened to me after all. And then you will take me to the djinn. And then I will take what is mine. No more of your foolish delays. I’ve spent long enough traipsing about with you. You owe me now.”

  With his last words, Chort pointed his staff at Cass. She nodded at him, her face a mask of disinterest.

  Travel was sorted out between the smaller group heading to the wet dessert and those returning to the ship. Only the Ambassador planned to fly with them to the wet dessert. They all clambered up onto his great back, clutching scales as he lifted into the air, swirls of wind blowing their hair and clothes around. Only Manfred seemed completely at ease on the creature’s back. Cass had noticed something in him had changed since he had helped her. She sidled up to the blue man and put her cloak around them so she could hear him as they spoke.

  “Is everything okay, Manny?”

  “Manny… you’ve started calling me Manny again. I missed that. Yes, everything is fine. I feel it now.”

  “Feel what?”

  “Death. I feel it. For the first time in so many years I could never begin to count them.”

  “You’re dying now?” Cass asked alarmed.

  “No, no. Nothing so dramatic as that. I’ve used up my power. Normally, when that happens, the other djinn, they find you. Bring you back. After the dragons, when I was drained, I told them to wait.”

  Manfred tapped his head.

  “It’s a thing we can do. But only if I let them. They can’t yank me back there if I don’t want to go. And I wasn’t done yet. I told them to wait, I was fine. I’d call for them when I needed them. They were so excited you see. The prophecy. It was coming true. They thought it was the end. I could feel them celebrating all the way over in the Plains when we landed there. They were sending all these thoughts of thanks. ‘Oh Manfred our savior,’ that sort of thing.”

  Manfred chuckled.

  “All I needed to do to make friends was save them all. Who knew? Of course, I never did it for them. They are the reason we are what we are. I did it for our sisters. Our mothers. Our daughters. Those who hopefully aren’t trapped in some kind of limbo.”

  Manfred went silent, listening to the air whip around Cass’ cloak causing the fabric to make a thwapping sound as it bucked the air current.

  “Boy were they ever disappointed when everything didn’t end after the dragons got to the Plains. I think the only reason they brought me back to Xenor so I could recharge was to blame me for everything
to my face. Oh well. Screw them anyway, right?”

  Cass hugged the little djinn to her, thankful for her life, thankful for his sacrifice.

  “Since you won’t go back, you’ll die then?”

  “No. I’ll waste away, becoming thinner and thinner. I won’t die. Not naturally. Oh the gods could come along and put me out of my misery. They wouldn’t bother, but they could. It won’t matter. I won’t have to wait for the imaginary benevolent god to help me die. Not anymore. We’re going to find a blade. A blade of legend. A blade that can kill gods. Now, for the first time ever, I can feel death. I know that if you put that blade where I think you’ve been planning to all along, nothing will stop the end from coming. No godlike powers will keep that blade from killing. And then, then you will have the staff. And you can end my life. And, I like it. I’m tired, Cassandra. It’s time. It’s been time for a while now. A very long while. I want to go. I want to see Margaret again. I’d like to tell her about… about my life.”

  Manfred put his hand on Cass’.

  “I’m glad that the last thing I was able to do was save your life. The favor needed to be returned. You saved mine, all those years ago, when you came into that horrid little pub on Xenor. When I saw you, I knew. I knew you were there to save me. You didn’t know it yet, but you were.”

  They sat for a while in silence, the white noise of the swift air around them buffeting them. Once again Cass felt the odd sensation she was missing something important. But she tried to remember Viola’s words and to respect Manfred’s wishes. After a time, he patted her knee.

  “You’ll probably want to talk with Chort. And Cass, do ask him about that sword. I think you’ll find what he has to say about it enlightening.”

  Cass nodded and slowly made her way back to the group huddled between the great dragon’s shoulder blades. She positioned herself against Gunnarr, trying to feel some warmth. The idea of Manfred dying bothered her more than she imagined it would. She looped her arm through his and turned toward Chort, who was clinging to a scale nearby.

  “So explain to me, what will we find in the wet dessert?” she shouted to be heard over the rush of air.

  Chort spoke in a normal manner, his voice somehow cutting through the din and getting to their ears without the aid of a raised tone.

  “I’m guessing you know nothing of Toren. That’s the way the gods wanted it. They didn’t want anyone to know what he had done. Everyone who might have known what he was planning, where he might have gone, they made sure they’d never speak of it to anyone.”

  Chort looked around at them all in a dramatic fashion. Viola rolled her eyes. Chort noticed and snorted in irritation before he began again.

  “Toren made it to the River. No one is exactly sure how he did it. The River is not a place a human can reach. But he did it. While he was there he stole some things. Mostly useless things, jewelry and such. Some of the plants that grow there. But he took something else the gods really didn’t want any mortal having. Long ago, the old gods needed to punish one of their own. A god who was obsessed with mortals. Ves. Would not stop laying with them. Created all kinds of trouble. All the bastards needed to be taken care of.”

  “Taken care of?” Cass asked.

  Chort drew his finger across his throat.

  “You can’t predict those kinds of offspring. Where their loyalty lies. What they are capable of. It’s forbidden among us to do it. I’ve been tempted, on occasion. But even though the gods treat me as if I don’t exist, I know if I did that, I’d be taken to task quite quickly over it. Even the new gods agree half breeds should be prohibited, and they don’t agree on much with the old gods.”

  “How is it I was allowed?” Cass asked.

  “Timta was thought to be gone, with all the other old gods. She only survived the stone because it is hers. Oshia didn’t think of that,” Chort shrugged. “He obviously thought no god was stupid enough to have an offspring with a human. Not after Ves. That’s why you took him by such surprise. No mortal can resist him. But he did not know that you were half god.

  “Now you know why even the new gods don’t want creatures such as yourself running around. It’s dangerous. And unpredictable. We all know each other’s motivations. We all want more power. It’s pretty simple to sort out. But you, what do you want? We don’t know. How powerful will you be? We can’t be sure. Can we control you? Not as much as we’d like. That’s why the punishment was created. That’s why the blades were forged.”

  “But killing a god is forbidden as well. Wouldn’t all of this have been started long ago if they killed Ves?” Viola asked.

  “Oh, the blades weren’t meant to kill. No. That was never their intention. We don’t need those blades to kill one another. Clearly, those down on the plains weren’t sword fighting. The blade was meant to wound. Scar permanently. We’re gods. We cannot be wounded in that way. Not without some special power. Many blades were made before the final two. They didn’t work. Not until the forger imbued them with the power to kill a god. Only then could they wound a god.”

  Chort stared at Cass. She felt uneasy under his gaze, as if he would sort out her plans for him.

  “How many blades?” she asked to keep him talking.

  “Just the two. Don’t get excited. You won’t be arming your rabble with them. And one, as you know, is still in the capable hands of the gods, so that one you’re not likely to get a hold of. But they created two of them. A sword, and a dagger. There was some argument as to which would be more fitting for torture. Gods are foolish in their vanity. There was no need for both. Toren found the sword. He took it.”

  “And he fled to the Wet Desert?” Cass shouted.

  “Fell. Fell would be a more appropriate word. No one I’ve ever heard talk to about it has been able to figure out how he survived. He fell from the River. Or jumped I suppose would be more accurate. He was seen by Porl, who spent much of his life in the temples at the River, avoiding temptation or some ridiculous thing. He saw the mortal jump. He didn’t realize at first the sword had been taken. He called everyone to him, believing the mortal died. It wasn’t until they noticed the sword was gone they bothered to check if he survived. Very foolish. I would have immediately checked.”

  Chort puffed up his chest with pride in himself.

  “They tracked him through the Wet Desert. Couldn’t find him there. Found him later trying to reach the Sullen Sea just south of the desert. He was killed before he could answer any questions. Again, foolish. They found nothing on him. They searched the desert, quite thoroughly from what I’ve been told. Their only guess was he had hidden it somewhere in the Oasis. Somehow he managed to shield it from them. So, they hid the entire Oasis. Now, no one aside from the gods can ever find it. So far, that’s worked.”

  “So how will we know where to land?” Viola asked.

  Chort just grinned at her and tapped on the dragon they were riding. They felt the drop inside their stomachs as the Ambassador began to rapidly descend. Cass peered over the edge of the dragon to see where they were. The sky was cloudless over the Wet Desert, as it always was during the day. The ground shimmered as the sunlight reflected off the thin layer of water that always covered the flat sand of the desert. Cass could just make out the edges of the desert, the Sullen Sea far to the south. She could see no oasis however, and began to worry that it might have been short sighted to trust the small god with anything.

  The ground grew closer and closer. Despite the great beating of the dragon’s wings, it became stiller and stiller the closer to the ground they got. Cass remembered the eerie stagnant feeling, and not fondly. She had almost died here some years ago. She hoped she’d never see the place again.

  The dragon landed heavily in the watery sand, its feet sinking ever so slightly. The group hopped down, most of them encountering the Wet Desert for the first time.

  “It’s so beautiful. I never thought it would be beautiful,” Viola said looking out over the expanse of shallow water.

  The ai
r was so still, every move they made caused ripples to echo farther than they could see.

  “It’s firmer than I thought it would be,” Nat said walking around. The water barely made it to the top of his shoes.”

  “The sand is pretty dense. I’ve heard old sailors say they think the Sullen used to come all the way up inland here. This is all that’s left of that part of the sea,” Cass said crossing her arms.

  “That would more than double the size of the Sullen,” Viola said, marveling at the sight of the desert.

  Cass shrugged.

  “Yeah, I don’t know if it’s true or not. All I know is it’s terribly unnatural. Don’t drink too much of your water. The water here looks crystal clear, but it’s quite salty. You can’t drink it.”

  “You won’t need any water,” Chort said. “We’re here. The Oasis has plenty.”

  “I don’t see anything,” Viola said.

  “Just follow me. And don’t dally.”

  Chort started trudging through the water. Viola and Nat quickly fell into line behind him while Cass and Gunnarr exchanged a look. Manfred still sat atop the dragon, watching everything.

  “You coming, blue man?” Gunnarr shouted up at him.

  “Yes. I mean to. But right at this moment, I need some help.”

  Cass waved at Gunnarr to continue on with the others and stood at the side of the dragon.

  “Slide off, Manny. I’ll catch you.”

  Manfred tipped his weight over the side and landed right in Cass’ arms.

  “Damsel in distress style, or piggy back? Each have their own special indignities, but I’ll let you choose,” Cass said.

  “Let’s do piggy back. I find it hotter for me.”