The Second God

by Pauline M. Ross

  “How is that even possible?” Cal said.

  I shrugged helplessly. That was the key question, and I couldn’t begin to answer it. We would have to wait until Ly returned.

  ~~~~~

  At first I thought Ly would reconnect with me soon, but as time went by, we settled round the table and my stomach discovered it was ravenous. I’d eaten nothing since morning board, so I tucked into the bread, cheese and fruit left from the noon table, while Mother fussed around and sent the servants for something hot. No one talked much.

  I’d begun on some soup when Krant came in, his face concerned. “What has been happening on the island?” he said. “We expected them to be there all evening, as usual, but some people are leaving already. Several boats have crossed to the far shore.”

  I told him what I’d seen, but none of us could explain what was happening.

  Cal leaned close to whisper, “Can you detect Ly’s magic?”

  “Yes. When he was inside the scribery, it was muted and fuzzy, somehow, but he’s out again now and I know exactly which direction he is.”

  “And the other one? The second god?”

  Why hadn’t I thought of that? I should be able to detect him, too. I opened my mind, and searched around. “No, there’s nothing… oh, wait! There he is, a little further away. His magic’s not as strong as Ly’s. He’s moving northwest.”

  “Might he be on a boat?”

  “He might, yes. He’s moving quite slowly. Not flying.”

  Cal leaned back in his chair. “That’s exactly what I would do, too.”

  “Set off in a boat?”

  “Get far away from here as quickly as possible. Get away from you.”

  “Me? Oh – I could take his magic, you mean?”

  He nodded, grinning. “These Clanfolk have great power, but you can tame them.”

  “Should I try? I can reach it, I think. He’s still close enough.”

  “Yes!” His eyes sparkled. “Show these savages who’s in control.”

  Savages? Had I ever thought of them that way? Perhaps, once, when I’d thought that civilisation was founded on reading and writing and great cities. But Ly was as civilised as anyone I knew, despite his lack of reading. His people saw the world in a different way, that was all.

  Still, the idea of showing the young byan shar who was in control was an appealing one. I closed my eyes, concentrating. The boy’s magic was a puny thing compared with Ly’s, a candle-flame in sunlight. If the two had been side by side, I could never have detected the smaller, weaker glow. But the distance between them made it clear to me. I reached out with my mind, grasping for his magic, greedy for it. It wasn’t as easy as I was used to. Ly was always close by when I took his magic now, and proximity removed every obstacle. I had only to have the thought and the magic was transferred to me. But this was more difficult. Once, twice I reached, and it slithered out of my grasp. The third time, I was determined, though.

  “There! I have it,” I said triumphantly, before I realised that it made no difference. “But he is still travelling away from me, and his magic will regenerate.”

  “Yes, but he knows now what a formidable enemy you are,” Cal said.

  Was I his enemy? I had no idea.

  ~~~~~

  As soon as Ly took to the skies again, I was aware of it. The glowing marker in my mind rose and then headed towards the town, closer and closer, before landing on the roof. The eagles were excited to be flying, but I couldn’t connect to Ly’s mind, so I had no idea how he felt, whether he was angry or miserable or merely puzzled. And would he want me to take his magic? I was uncomfortably aware that I’d already taken magic from the other byan shar. Would I even be able to absorb Ly’s as well? And the magic was beginning to make me restless for bed. I couldn’t wait for the evening to be over so that I could tear Arran’s clothes off and—

  Best not think about that, not yet. I got up and paced across the room and back.

  At last the door opened, and Ly was there, face serious. Then his eye lit on Arran, leaning nonchalantly against the wall.

  “Arran!” Ly yelled, his face lighting up. “You came all this way! I am so happy to see you!” And he threw himself at Arran, hugging him fiercely.

  Arran laughed, and wrapped his arms round Ly’s slender frame. “As I am happy to be here. I would have been sorry to miss all the excitement.”

  “There is nothing wrong at Kingswell?” Ly said.

  “Nothing at all. I just missed you both. But this second god – that is quite a surprise. It must be very rare.”

  “Rare? No, impossible. Or at least, it has never happened before.”

  “Never?” I said. “Can you be sure of that?”

  “Oh, yes,” Ly said. “Never, in all our history. No one knows quite what to make of it. Why would the gods choose a second byan shar? There are those who say that I have failed, and therefore Sho-heest is sent to replace me. But I have not failed! I have not yet reached my time of leadership, so how can they say I have failed?” He paused, a distant look in his eyes. “There was the plea, of course. Some will say the gods have answered the plea. But I will not surrender tamely to this – what is the word? Do you remember the dramatic entertainment we watched last winter, where the prince’s uncle replaced him?”

  “Usurper,” Arran said. “That was the story of Turmanest the Usurper.”

  “Yes, exactly. This boy is a usurper.”

  “What is he like?” I said, as Ly took off his coat and sat down at the table. Absently he reached for a handful of nuts from the bowl, and Cal passed the wine around.

  “Sho-heest?” Ly shrugged. “Just a boy. Very bewildered. He was terrified when I followed him into the tower. ‘I am so sorry,’ he kept saying. ‘What does it mean? What am I supposed to do?’ Drina, I am sorry I lost contact with you. It was too difficult when I was inside the tower, and then afterwards I was so distracted. People were yelling questions at me – as if I have any answers. And then just yelling at me – this is all my fault, I am too weak, I have abandoned my people. They are very angry with me. And with you, Drina. They called you a witch. And then someone mentioned that you can take all my magic, and Sho-heest’s parents panicked and dragged him away. I tried to follow, but I lost him.”

  “He left the island by boat,” I said.

  “Ah. Then he is gone. And if he enters the black-bark forest, we will lose him. His magic will clear a path and hide him from pursuit.”

  “And what would happen if he has no magic?” I asked innocently.

  “If he—? Oh!” Ly’s face relaxed into a smile. “Good! It will regrow, of course, but it is embarrassing for him, all the same.”

  “What will you do about him?” Cal said.

  Ly didn’t hesitate, not for a heartbeat. “First, I have to talk to Yannassia,” he said. “Then I shall decide what must be done about this boy.”

  The talk went round and round for some time. Food came and went, the wine was passed from hand to hand, everyone ate and drank. Except me. I was full of magic, and restless. As they chattered and relaxed, I sat and gazed at Arran, admiring his hands crumbling bread, the way his hair fell in gentle waves, his strong chin. Waiting…

  Eventually, they all left – Sallorna and Krant, Mother and Cal, and the last of the servants. Just Ly, Arran and me.

  We stood, the three of us, no one speaking, waiting.

  It was Ly who broke the silence. “Well, Drina, shall we go to bed?” He held out his hand to me.

  I didn’t take it. My glance fell on Arran, seeing his crestfallen face. He’d assumed, too, that we would be together, that Ly would be the one to spend the night alone.

  “Drina?” Ly’s expression was calm, and for the first time I couldn’t read him. How would he react if I said no? At Kingswell, I’d known how to handle him, but not here, not this new, confident Ly.

  “I could take your magic,” I suggested hesitantly. “Then Arran and I—”

  “No.”

  “It is fo
r Drina to decide,” Arran said, a flash of anger in his eyes. “You are her prisoner—”

  “No,” Ly said again, in the same placid, sure voice. “Tonight I am byan shar and have need of my wife. You may have her back in the morning.”

  I could have argued the point. Ly himself had described me as only a half-wife, after all, and yes, he was still my prisoner. I could have set the whole matter to rest by taking his magic from him and choosing Arran. But I didn’t want to take that step. Being confrontational was never my style. In the five years I’d been married to Ly, we’d always tiptoed round each other, the three of us, inching towards a working accommodation. I’d never imposed my will on either of them, leaving them to work out the details of bedroom arrangements between themselves. Well, it was Arran, really, who’d made the decisions.

  And once more, he was the one to give way. He glanced at me, then at Ly, and back to me. Then, resigned, he scanned the room. “That sofa looks comfortable enough. I shall sleep there.”

  “There are spare blankets in the bedroom,” Ly said. “I shall fetch them for you.”

  “Thank you. May I—?” He looked helplessly at Ly. “Do you mind if I kiss Drina goodnight?”

  Ly’s expression softened. “Of course not.”

  He went to find the blankets, and I melted into Arran’s arms. I was so full of magic that his kisses set me on fire, and if Ly hadn’t been nearby, I’d have jumped on Arran right there and then. Pulling away from his arms was as hard as anything I’ve ever done.

  “Sleep well, my little flower,” he whispered thickly, and quickly turned away from me.

  Then I took Ly’s hand with a fizz of magic and let him lead me into the bedroom.

  There was no fear in him, this time. He was so sure of himself and his magic, so much in control. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he set about it with determination. Every touch, every kiss, every stroke, rough or gentle – it was all through Ly’s will. He was in charge, and I surrendered to the majesty of his passion, and let magic sweep me away. Sex without the impetus of magic has its own delights, but with it, the experience is like flying with the gods. So much energy! So much desire! Every tiny touch a flame that burns without consuming. That night was glorious, every single moment of it, and I never wanted it to stop.

  Long after dawn, we finally wound down enough to lie still and rest, even if we didn’t sleep.

  When I eventually emerged from the bedroom, not in the least exhausted, Arran was sitting glumly at the table drinking hot brew. He brightened when he saw me.

  “Ah, sweetheart! Do you want something? A drink? Your herbs? Shall I brew them for you?”

  “Thank you, that would be good. Did you sleep well?”

  “Oh yes,” he said, but the guilty expression on his face told its own story.

  When he had made my herbal drink, I took his hand and led him to the window seat. He followed, unresisting. Pushing him down, I climbed onto his lap.

  “There! That’s better, isn’t it?”

  “Oh yes.” But his tone was bleak.

  “What is it? Are you still upset that I was with Ly?”

  A long pause. “May I speak honestly?”

  “I hope you’ll always do that.”

  He sighed. “Last night made me realise that… you do not need me at all. You have Ly, and he is your husband – you will always have Ly. Whereas I… I am just a drusse, with a contract that has to be renewed every two years. And he… he makes you happy, properly happy, I understand that now, which I cannot do. You are a matched pair – he provides the magic you need, and I have no magic at all. He is an essential political key to keeping the peace, and all I do is make stupid mistakes. I serve no purpose, Drina, and sooner or later you will come to see that, and then you will not want me any more.”

  I let him have his say without interruption, not sure whether this was just the distress of the moment, and he would recover his usual sunny good humour later, or whether it came from some deeper-rooted discontent. When he wound down, I stroked his cheek.

  “Doesn’t it count for anything that I love you?”

  “Of course, but every year, every moon you are closer to him, and sooner or later—”

  “Shh. None of us can say what the future holds. All I know is that I need you now, and you will always have a place by my side, I promise you that.”

  He held me close, and for a long time we sat, unmoving. My heart ached for him, but how could I reassure him? I knew my own mind, and I loved Arran with every bone in my body, but perhaps he would always look at Ly and wonder. And I loved Ly, too, although in a different way. If anyone had asked me a few years ago if it was possible to love two men, I’d have laughed and said no, of course not. But it was. I loved them both, and I didn’t want to lose either of them. Yet here was Arran, doubting and fearful, while Ly was growing stronger and more independent every sun. I didn’t want to think where that could end.

  After a while, Ly emerged from the bedroom. “I have remade the bed for you,” he said. “I am going down to the bathing room for a while – an hour, at least. I shall be back for morning board.”

  “Thank you,” Arran said with a sudden grin, giving me a squeeze. “See you later.”

  I felt a prickle of annoyance at Ly’s high-handedness – last night he’d whisked me away from Arran, now he was giving his permission for us to be together. As if that was for him to decide.

  Something else struck me. “Ly! Your magic – it’s hardly reduced at all.”

  “I know. You cannot take it from me now – not unless I allow it. Finally I have full control of my powers. I am truly byan shar.”

  His smile chilled my heart.

  11: Brothers Of The Heart

  We crawled back to Kingswell the slow, laborious way. Arran and I rode, accompanied by an honour escort from the fortress, and all the servants, scribes and waiting women who’d been sent to Lakeside to assist Ly and me. I’d forgotten just how tedious such a procession could be. There was always a horse with a shoe cast or a saddle misaligned or some other trivial problem that necessitated a stop to deal with it. We stayed at inns overnight, throwing the innkeepers and their helpers into a frenzy of obsequious preparations. I dared not think how many fine beasts were roasted for us instead of being kept for the next festival. But at least I had Arran to curl up beside in bed.

  Ly circled overhead on Diamond, with his own little honour escort of Sunshine and a score of other birds. Some of them were bonded, and I wondered how many Clanfolk were sitting beside the lake resignedly waiting for their mounts to return so that they could fly home. When we stopped at noon for food and a rest, Ly would spiral down to join us, but the rest of the time he simply followed us at a distance, and made camp somewhere overnight.

  I’d sent word ahead to Yannassia through the writing mirrors in the Lakeside scribery, which were magically connected to their counterparts at Kingswell. We had not been in the Keep an hour when word came that she would see us immediately in her private rooms. She had dismissed all her scribes and mages and waiting women and servants, and only Torthran attended her, apart from the ever-present bodyguards.

  “Drina, Ly – come in. Oh, and Arran too. Yes, yes, do come in. Have some of this minty stuff – it’s rather a good summer drink, I think, quite refreshing. Torthran? Would you be so good as to fetch more glasses?”

  We settled around a small table in the curve of a window, sipping the strange drink, while Ly told the whole tale again from the beginning. Yannassia knew it already, but she listened patiently, only occasionally asking for clarification.

  “And this has never happened before?” she asked when Ly came to the end.

  “Never. No one knows quite what it means for the Clans.”

  “I am more concerned with what it means for Bennamore,” Yannassia said. “Is this boy destined to be a war leader, as you were once intended to be? Should we fear for our safety?”

  Ly frowned. “That is believed to be the purpose of a male byan sh
ar. However, it takes many years to achieve that position – as I discovered when I tried. It requires a great deal of power to control an army of war-beasts. My magic was not strong enough then.”

  “But now it is?” Yannassia said, getting the point.

  “Yes, I imagine so. But I have no desire to make war on Bennamore or anywhere else.”

  “What happens next to this new byan shar?” I said. “Will he go through the regeneration phase?”

  Ly nodded. “If his mother follows the tradition, she will take him to the castle beside the great lake, and all the Clans will send women to him to be made pregnant.” His expression was bleak. I remembered all too well the effects of Ly’s own regeneration efforts – the children able to bond with their beasts even from birth, yet not able to control them. The injuries were terrible. It was unbearable to think of another generation suffering in that way.

  “So if we leave him alone, this boy, he will breed an army of beast riders,” Yannassia said. “Then, in a few years, we will have another war on our hands. No, I cannot allow it. We shall have to kill this boy.”

  “I should prefer not to, if it can be avoided,” Ly said quietly. “First I should like to talk to him, to see if we can come to some accommodation, to work together for the good of the Clans. I should like your permission to go in search of him.”

  “I do not think you need my permission,” Yannassia said, with a lift of one eyebrow.

  Ly gave a wry smile. “Perhaps not, but I should like it, nevertheless. And Drina’s, of course. I shall need to take her with me, because she can detect Sho-heest’s magic, which will make it much easier to find him.”

  “Very well.”

  “I should also like to take Arran with us. His skill with a sword may be useful where we are going.”

  Arran’s head lifted sharply, his face filled with sudden hope. “But how—?” he began.

  Yannassia raised a hand to interrupt him. “I thought outsiders could not travel in your lands?” she said.