An Unexpected Deity (Book 7)

by Jeffrey Quyle

  The front line of the water struck the monster, and kept on going past, on its way to the far end of the lake, and then down the turbulent mountain stream to the Dangueax River, from which it would run towards the Inner Seas, just as it had done the winter before.

  And in the meantime, the Viathin in front of them took on the same colorful energetic glow for only a moment, then it collapsed and expanded wildly once, and it followed that a split second later by collapsing into the lake, and triggering a huge explosion of water, a fountain of millions of gallons of the now-innoculative lake-water that flew up into the sky, so that some of it came down immediately as a shower on all the people and terrain around the lake, while more of the water rose higher up into the sky, to seed the passing clouds and to prepare to return to earth as protective, widespread rain.

  The rising of the fountain began, and suddenly the whole mountainside outside the cave seemed to slide down into the lake, cutting off the view those inside the cave had, plunging them into total darkness, and signaling that there would be no exit from that end of the cave.

  Chapter 11

  Kestrel toppled forward, exhausted by the discharge of his energy. He felt the water from the stream in the cave running around him as it headed towards the vast mound of stone and dirt that had fallen in front of the cave entrance, as a choking cloud of dust billowed into the cave.

  “Kestrel!” Wren screamed. “Kestrel, are you alright?” she shouted, and he heard the splashing sounds of the others moving towards him in the dark space.

  “He propped himself up on his hands and knees. “I’m here,” he shouted back, making his head hurt more. “I’m here,” he repeated more softly.

  The splashing came closer, and then someone’s hands were on him, helping to lift him to his feet.

  “That was extraordinary, lad,” Stuart said, as he held Kestrel erect. “You’re no ordinary elf, are you? Did you really just kill that monster?”

  “And hopefully all the others as well,” Kestrel answered, then coughed. He paused to catch his breath in the dusty air. “The water should go through all the lands of the Inner Seas and kill all the Viathins, and set all the humans and elves and others free from their influence.”

  “But the people who are just naturally evil will still be evil, won’t they?” Lark asked, with a hint of accusation in her voice. “You haven’t solved all the world’s problems. Duke Fields is still ambitious and greedy,” she said.

  “My lady, the lad never claimed to do everything that’s impossible,” Gates said gently from somewhere in the darkness. “But he did something impossible anyway – we’re here to talk because he saved us again. We owe him thanks for our freedom and lives,” the man said, and Stuart squeezed Kestrel’s shoulder appreciatively.

  There was a silent pause. “True enough,” Lark said. “My thanks to you Sir Kestrel, for your actions and your heroism.”

  “What do we do now?” Wren asked in elvish.

  “There is only one direction to go, the way that I would choose to go anyway,” Kestrel said, speaking in the human tongue.

  “I had thought that you’d be able to return on your own way from here, but now,” he paused. “The way out of this cave to return to the Inner Seas is sealed, so we’ll have to follow this passage to find the way to the next world, and then perhaps from there we can find our way back to our own world through some other route, once our mission is complete.”

  “We don’t want to go on your mission!” Lark exclaimed.

  “What about Hermes? We left him out there; he might still be alive; he might need help,” another voice spoke up in the darkness of the cave.

  Kestrel wished he could see the faces of his companions to read their reactions. Stuart released his grip on Kestrel just then, and Kestrel felt himself droop slightly, momentarily, at the loss of the man’s support.

  “A large part of the mountain just fell down in front of us,” Kestrel said. He felt the water in the cave stream starting to rise, climbing up to his ankles as it found its exit blocked by debris. “Even if I had my full strength right now – and I don’t – I couldn’t move those stones, and neither can you.”

  “What is this other way out?” Stuart asked. His tone was reasonable as he sought information. “You said you were going to go rescue gods?” he remembered their conversation the last time the two groups parted.

  “I was told by Kere – the goddess herself – that she believed Krusima and Morph were being held captive by the god of the Viathins in another land that can be reached through this cave,” Kestrel explained. “So if we go through this cave, we will perhaps find the gods, and be able to set them free. And with their help, I hope we can find a way to return to our world. There must be another way,” he said fervently.

  “What makes you so sure there is another way?” Wren asked.

  “I’ve been through a different cave, up in the Water Mountains, that was a portal just like this, except it connected to Albanun, a different world, one the Viathins had eaten up before they started to come here,” he answered. “And it had other portals that led to other lands, so I hope we can find the way to come back through that other portal.”

  “The Water Mountains are a long way from Uniontown,” Lark said dismissively.

  “Once we get back to the Inner Seas, especially with the gods we rescue, there will be no problem returning you to Uniontown,” Kestrel said confidently.

  “It all sounds easy the way you explain it,” Gates said.

  “I doubt that it will be easy,” Kestrel answered immediately. “If gods are held captive somewhere, it can’t be an easy place to go. But if we can find them and set them free, we’ll have their powers to help us, and the god of the Viathins will be weaker without the powers he steals from our gods.”

  “How can we go anywhere when we can’t even see how to get out of here?” Lark asked.

  “Let me recover,” Kestrel said. “And I’ll be able to make some light for us.” He fumbled for the stopper to the water skin of healing spring water. The skin was less than half full, he realized.

  “Wren, would you explain to Woven and Stillwater what we just discussed?” he asked, then took a limited sip of the water from the skin, and sealed it closed again.

  Wren began to speak in gnomish, telling Woven what the discussion had covered. She turned to speaking the language of the elves and the imps to tell Stillwater next, while some of the humans murmured softly, and Kestrel stood, relaxed, waiting and hoping that he had enough energy available to create illumination for the group.

  The water was rising higher within the cave now, he comprehended. It was up over his ankles and rising upon his calves. He didn’t know if it would find a path amidst the rubble that would allow it to resume falling into the lake outside, but he didn’t want to wait any longer to find out.

  He focused on the place where he found power inside himself, and commanded it to come forth, to make his hand a glowing torch they could rely on to find their path.

  His hand obediently began to glow, with a weak blue light at first, but a glow that strengthened as he raised his hand into the air, until it struck the ceiling of the cave not far above the top of his head.

  The light was sufficient. The blue glow tinted the surroundings, making them seem colder, and his companions, who he could once again observe, seemed to look harsher because of the color. He saw immediately that the cavern had a low ceiling; Kestrel was tall for an elf, and some of the humans were slightly taller, they all instinctively ducked their heads to maintain clearance from the rugged stones that were only two or three inches above the tops of their heads.

  “You’re a marvel,” Stuart said appreciatively. “We’re ready to go, I believe. Is there anything else before we go, my lady?” he turned and asked Lark deferentially.

  “The gnome and the imp, they do not understand our tongue?” she asked.

  Kestrel shook his head no.

  Do you trust the two of them?” she asked another questio
n.

  “With my life,” Kestrel said immediately. “More than I trust you,” he added, feeling insulted on behalf of his companions.

  “Well said,” Wren said softly in elvish, as a flinty look came over Lark’s face.

  “We’ll all trust one another my lady, I’m sure,” Stuart said smoothly, then casting an appealing look over his shoulder at Kestrel.

  “That we will,” Kestrel agreed, wanting to get along with the warrior. He reminded Kestrel of Ferris of Hydrotaz, the no-nonsense retainer who had been loyal to his nation during troubled times, and had helped Princess Yulia take control of the throne after the coup of the Uniontown forces. Kestrel respected Ferris, and he respected Stuart as well.

  “I’ll take the lead,” Stuart suggested, “and you follow with your light, and then the duchess after you,” he proposed.

  “Let’s let the imp go ahead of us,” Kestrel offered a suggestion. “He’s fast and observant, and he’ll be a good scout. He’s the one who let me know you were in trouble when I found you fighting on the road a few days ago.”

  “A prudent call,” Stuart agreed, and Kestrel motioned for Stillwater to take the lead, as the others began to prepare to move out.

  “Wren, you take the anchor,” Kestrel told his cousin.

  “Really?” Gates asked.

  “You saw those arrows she shot to drive the red forces away from us, didn’t you?” Stuart asked.

  “Aye, you’re right,” Gates agreed.

  And with that they started plunging into the depths of the mountain, following the waterway that snaked back into the stony core of the mountain that had watched their hard-fought battle at the lake.

  “I do not like this place, Kestrel-friend,” Stillwater said as he flew away then flew back. “I know that the passage the king and queen and the others took was like this, but it is not natural for an imp to be kept unwillingly in such a constricted space.

  “I understand my friend, and I hope the passage leads us quickly to a space that is more open. We’ll all enjoy seeing the sky again,” Kestrel agreed.

  They walked on for a long stretch of multiple hours, as the cavern route twisted and rose slightly, but always carried water along its floor. The first interruption in their trip came when the ceiling suddenly rose abruptly away from them, and the new, larger cavern hall provided multiple exits for them to ponder using.

  The water for the now smaller stream came sparkling down a narrow waterfall from an upper chamber, and as it dimly reflected the light from Kestrel’s hand, the room appeared to be alive with small, furtive movements upon the walls.

  “Which way do we go now?” Wren asked as she was the last to enter the chamber, and joined the others in standing under the domed ceiling.

  “There are three ways to go,” Kestrel said. “We can send Stillwater to scout along one, and Woven should feel at home scouting along another,” he suggested.

  “I’ll go out the third way,” Gates volunteered.

  “I’ll stay here and keep my hand lit up so you can see which way to return. Don’t go farther than you feel comfortable,” Kestrel counseled. “Be careful,” he warned, as the three scouts departed. Stillwater flew up and over the waterfall to explore the upper chamber, while Woven and Gates went left and right into passages that would hopefully lead to an escape from the cave.

  And the rest of the group stood loosely together for several seconds, then began to put space between themselves.

  “I’m sorry about losing Hermes,” Kestrel said to one of the human guards who had not wandered far away. “I met him when I passed through Uniontown last winter.”

  “He remembered you too,” the guard said. “He always talked about the arrows you shot during Fields’s street ambush. Said he never saw such fine shooting – didn’t think it was possible for a mortal to shoot that well. I suppose he was right after all,” the man reflected.

  They stood together, discussing arrows and fletchings for several minutes, until the duke’s daughter called the man over. Kestrel remained in the center of the chamber, his hand glowing, and he felt himself growing tired from the constant use of the energy. He squatted down to rest, looking idly at the ground, thinking that he wished a cricket would crawl into view to provide a snack.

  There was a slight noise, and he looked up in time to see Stillwater arrive back in the chamber. “The water comes out of a hole in the wall at the end of that cavern. I couldn’t go any further,” the imp explained.

  “What do we do now?” Lark asked, walking up. “What does the imp say?”

  “Stillwater says that cave goes nowhere,” Kestrel answered.

  “Then we wait for the others to return,” Stuart said. “We need to stay together.”

  After several more minutes of anxious waiting, Gates returned. “I went as far as I could in the dark,” he said, “and I came to a dead-end, so I turned around and came back.”

  “That leaves only the gnome still out. Should we go after him now, if his is the only route that can take us to freedom?” Lark asked.

  Kestrel looked at Wren and Stuart; he had been thinking the same thought, as a way to reunite and advance more quickly. "I say we do it," he agreed.

  “What, you finally will accept something I say?” The duke's daughter mocked him. “That can't have been easy.”

  Kestrel shrugged his shoulders, as Stuart started moving towards the cavern Woven had disappeared in.

  "We go to follow the gnome," Wren told Stillwater.

  "If it gets me out of this place faster, I will follow a gnome." The imp vowed with attempted humor.

  And so they left the chamber with the spacious roof and the waterfall behind, and re-entered a narrow passageway once again, walking single file. It was a dry cavern, one that felt dusty as opposed to the humid and musty air they had breathed in the other cave with the stream.

  The passage began to rise after only a few minutes, a long steep slope that left them slightly winded as they traveled.

  "How far did the gnome go?” one of the men asked after several more minutes. "Did we pass him, or miss another tunnel?"

  "There's been no other tunnel," Kestrel replied. "It's just," he paused, as he felt a peculiar twisting sensation, a momentary feeling of uneasiness, while the light from his hand flickered and grew momentarily dim.

  "What is it Kestrel?" Wren asked.

  "A boundary," he replied as he abruptly stopped walking, causing Lark to bump against him.

  "Careful!" She warned. "Give some notice."

  "Did you feel it?" Kestrel asked. He repeated the question for Stillwater.

  "I just felt us cross the boundary between worlds," he exclaimed. "I think we're heading towards the other land in this cave!"

  "I didn't feel anything," Stuart replied, "but I believe you'd know better than I would."

  “I think we’re in the other world. It could be very different from our own. I went to the world of the Albanuns looking for the imps and sprites who went in search of the way to defeat the Viathins,” he told them all. “That land had two suns.”

  “Would the gnome have gone all the way into the other land?” Gates asked.

  “We’ll find out when we meet him,” Kestrel shrugged, and they resumed their journey forward.

  Minutes later, Kestrel called a halt.

  “Why are we stopping, Kestrel?” Wren called from the back of the line.

  He took a deep breath, and let the light from his hand grow dimmer. “The light feels like it is taking more energy from me,” he answered. “I need to rest; I need to let the light go out for a while.”

  “Why don’t we all have a seat and rest?” Stuart suggested. “You’ve carried that light for a long time,” he said sympathetically.

  Kestrel leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor, then released his use of the power and darkness descended over the group.

  “How long must we sit here like this?” Lark asked.

  “Until Kestrel feels ready to move again,” Wren s
napped.

  “You will address me as ‘your ladyship’,” Lark promptly replied.

  “Everyone be quiet – did you hear something?” Stuart asked. Everyone held their breath and became immediately silent, straining their ears for some sound, any sound.

  They heard a faint shuffling sound, one that carried a regular, slow rhythm to its actions.

  “Is it the gnome?” Stuart faintly breathed the question.

  “It has to be,” Wren answered, only slightly less quietly.

  “I’ll go light up the cave away from everyone else, so that you can see,” Kestrel said, grunting as he stood up. He felt sure that the sound was Woven on his return, but he carefully pulled his enchanted knife Lucretia free from his belt just in case of trouble.

  He stealthily crept towards the source of the sound, and when he had put a few steps between himself and the others he stopped and waited for the approaching noise to get close, listening to it creep closer. At last, he held his hand at arm’s length in front of himself, then called on the power within himself – finding it still difficult to grasp the power easily – and he made his hand flicker into a bright source of light, still blue, but now carrying a slightly greenish tinge.

  And there in front of him stood Woven, as the gnome’s eyes widened, then squinted with the unexpected illumination.

  “Who’s there?” the gnome demanded immediately, staring into and blinded by the light that flared out of the darkness.

  “It’s me, Woven,” Kestrel answered in gnomish, lowering the intensity of his light. “Welcome back.”

  “I’m not all the way back to the group, am I? That’s impossible,” Woven answered.

  “No,” Kestrel answered as he examined the gnome. He was confident that it was his companion who had rejoined them. “We came forward to catch up to you. The other caves didn’t go anywhere.”