The Skyes were chittering among themselves, and Kestrel realized that he could no longer understand their language. It demonstrated his loss of divine powers, he reflected sadly.
“I can walk on my own now,” he said, as he swung his legs around and dropped his feet over the edge of the walking Skyes, then stumbled onto the ground and found his pace.
“What did you mean before about some problem with the portals?” he asked Tullamore, remembering the disturbing last conversation before he had passed out. “What’s the problem that you anticipate?”
“Our world has five portals,” Tullamore said. “Two led directly to your world, and two lead in the opposite direction among the lands, far off into other realms. One portal leads somewhere in-between. With the two portals to your world blocked, we will have to send you through the portal that goes to other worlds, through which you may find another portal that does lead to your world.”
“How,” Kestrel paused and considered the bleak reality that Tullamore offered, “How will I know where the other portals are in the next world? Wouldn’t it be easier to go dig the old portals open?” The whole group stopped walking as Kestrel did so, and they stood upon a sandy spot that had been newly turned into a beach along the shore of the lake. Several of the Skyes took advantage of the stop to walk quickly down to the water; they put their legs into the water and clattered loudly to one another, then started splashing and cavorting. Without knowing exactly why, Kestrel felt his heart gladdened by the sight of the happy creatures.
“You could spend your whole lifetime digging the stones of the mountains and not clear the portal passage where you fought the Kovell,” Tullamore answered. “And I do not know the condition of the other portal that you blocked in your own world; would it be any easier?” the god asked.
“No,” Kestrel reflected, remembering the mountainside that had collapsed during the conflict at the cave, and the stream of water that had pooled up within the cave. “It would not be any easier.”
“Then I can only offer you the following choices: stay here in this land with my people and I, or try the third portal,” Tullamore told him. “We are only a few hours away from the portal location. You can decide now, and we will continue to go there, or you can wait and decide later – the portal will always be there. In the meantime we can go about our duty of preparing the world to come back to life.”
It was no difficult choice for Kestrel. He understood that the Skyes were a good-hearted race of beings, but they were so alien in nature from himself that there was no reason to stay. And there were numerous reasons to return, or attempt to return. There was Oaktown, and Putienne, and Merea, his daughter, and now he found that his promise to Lark to visit and help her father in Uniontown weighed on his mind as an obligation he wished to keep.
“Let’s move on to the portal,” Kestrel decided. “What do you know about the world on the other side?”
He started walking again, as did Tullamore, and the mob of Skyes came rushing up from the lakeshore, anxious to keep up with their god as he moved through their world.
“I know that there is a god in that world, and I know that they too faced a battle against the Viathins,” the god answered. “But most of the Viathins went elsewhere after they consumed that world; few of them came directly here.”
Kestrel pondered the report as they moved along. How many worlds might he have to pass through to find a way back to his own land, he wondered. Was he doomed to become a wanderer among lands, forever searching, without a map to offer guidance?
By mid-afternoon they reached the entrance to the portal, another cave entrance.
At first, Kestrel didn’t realize how close they were.
“How much further is it?” he asked when they stopped at a large, flat open space along the trail. They had long before risen above and circled away from the shores of the lake, so that there was no longer any hint of the plentiful water that was flowing back into the world.
“We’re here,” Tullamore answered.
“I don’t see anything,” Kestrel said, standing up straight and looking around in all directions. “Where is it?”
Tullamore raised one of his many legs and pointed upward. Kestrel followed the direction and looked up at the side of a mountain that the trail circled around. It was the tallest peak that he had seen anywhere in the land.
“We have to climb this monster?” he asked.
“Not all of us; only you will go up there,” Tullamore answered.
“How will I find the portal?” Kestrel asked. “Is there a trail that leads to it?”
“No, there is no trail. This mountain is a dormant volcano. It is hollow on the inside. There is a lake of very hot water inside the emptiness, and there is an island in the lake. The portal is on the island. It is the space at the top of the hill on the island. When you stand at the correct spot, you see a different land, and you step into that land. That is the portal,” the god told Kestrel.
“And to make this part of the journey easy for you, I will lift you over the mountain and place you on the island,” Tullamore told Kestrel. “And I will wish you all the luck in the world in your efforts to reach your home. You deserve success; you have suffered many wounds in our land, but your heart has always been good, and should be rewarded. I hope that you can quickly reunite with the female of your kind who you love.”
“I will be glad to see Wren again,” Kestrel agreed, thinking that the last comment of the god went slightly astray from the weighty matters he had previously mentioned.
“No not the warrior, the other female, the one who is less like you, the one you are destined to give your heart to. Good luck in your union with her,” Tullamore said. “Now, farewell.”
Kestrel started to reply, to protest Tullamore’s misreading, then yelped in surprise, as his feet started to rise from the ground. The crowd of Skyes took their cue from the words of their god, and began to chatter vocally, a presumptive parting commentary, as Kestrel flew upwards, and rapidly saw the Skyes below dwindle into small dark circles on the landscape.
He momentarily reveled in the feeling of flying, then looked up and saw that he was approaching the top of the mountain. There was a rim he saw, a relatively flat level of mountaintop, higher than any of the surrounding mountains. When he reached it, he saw that there was a vast emptiness on the other side. The rim was the highpoint of a relatively narrow and steep collar of stone. Inside the collar the interior of the mountain dropped deeply to a turquoise blue lake, in the center of which was the island Tullamore had promised.
Warm as the world of the Skyes was overall, inside the crater the temperature was even higher. The lake that lay inside was one of the few standing bodies of water Kestrel had seen in the land except for the newly created reservoir. It was the lake that contributed to the heat inside the crater, Kestrel realized, as Tullamore’s powers lowered him down towards the island. The water of the lake was very warm, eddying and flowing with warmth.
When Kestrel’s feet touched the ground of the island, he was already sweating profusely in the humid heat. He looked up at the rocky hillside before him. It was all that he needed to cross in order to reach the portal that would carry him away from the land of the Skyes.
“Thank you, Tullamore,” he prayed out loud. “Thank you for bringing me here, and thank you for cleansing the Kovell from my soul. Good luck to you and your people in restoring your land to prosperity.”
We will always remember your help, Tullamore’s voice replied in his soul. Good luck in your search.
Why do you think I love Lark? Kestrel asked, focused once again on the god’s assertion that he loved the young duchess of Uniontown.
Your soul and hers are compatible. You both are passionate for justice and fair play. You both see one another as attractive. And yet there are differences that will always keep you dynamic and fresh in your relationship. I see a future for you and her, once you reach your home, the god told him. Travel safely, and name a child in memory
of my land!
Kestrel felt the god’s smile as he conveyed the last request, and then there was silence. He stood still, evaluating the reasons the god had listed, wondering if they were true, wondering if simple compatibility was enough to lead to inevitable love with a girl he hardly knew. Tullamore had named many common things that he claimed Kestrel and Lark shared, and Kestrel considered them valid for himself, and seemingly true about the young noblewoman as well.
It was intriguing, and Kestrel wondered if some part of him had recognized the similarities between the two of them as well. Although Lark had been unpleasant at times, Kestrel had ultimately chosen to accept her expressions of interest as sincere, and he had agreed to her pleas that he travel to Uniontown to help her father.
She was attractive, he admitted, and then he smiled at the notion that she might consider him to be attractive as well. She hadn’t seemed to be amenable to his elven features at first, he remembered.
There was a sudden noise above, and a stone became dislodged on the hillside, then rolled down the steep slope, carrying a miniscule landslide of pebbles and dust with it as it reached the edge of the water and came to a stop. Kestrel realized that he was woolgathering when he needed to be climbing up the hillside, and his thoughts were jarred away from Lark.
With his nimble elven feet and hands, Kestrel worked his way upward, finding toe holds and hand holds among the stones and sparse plants. There were no game trails, only the natural contours of the hill, but Kestrel climbed with determination, and within minutes reached the gentler slopes of the upper portion of the hill.
The hilltop was unremarkable, except for a small circle of stones that formed a tiny crown. Kestrel walked up to the edge of the circle, confident that it had to comprise the portal. He checked his belongings – his knife and his staff and his bow with a nearly empty quiver were all still remarkably intact across the long journey he had pursued. His pack was nearly empty; the light weight reminded him of how little he had eaten in recent days, and he realized that his clothes felt loose upon his frame.
He was ready to go. The next step he took would put him into the portal, and he would cross into the next world. He would be likely to confront a new race, have to rely on a different deity, be unable to speak a different language. But it was hopefully a step towards home, and well worth all the uncertainty.
He raised a foot and stepped over the short stone ring, into the center of the circle. And he felt profound disappointment. Something was wrong! The view in front of him was exactly the same – he was looking across the top of the island hill, seeing the waves of steamy heat rising from the lake to make the distant wall of the crater seem to waver. Tullamore had made a mistake! Or had the god tricked him? No, he told himself, Tullamore had been honest and faithful; there was no intentional deception, but there was a problem.
He felt his eyes unexpectedly tear up with frustration. Kestrel turned slightly as he started to step out of the ring, and as he did, he saw a green panorama out of the corner of his eye. He turned, and saw that a completely different world was visible behind him. The portal simply pointed in the opposite direction from his entry!
Kestrel laughed at his own mistaken assumption, and his hasty jump to conclusions.
He turned, and to his relief he saw the mouth of a cave, from whose interior he looked out upon a new world. It was a world with trees, and for that alone he was thankful. He felt his elven blood react with relief to the sight of tree trunks, leaves, and branches. He felt a powerful urge to jump out of the portal, to jump out of the cave entrance, and to jump into a tree, to climb to the highest branch, then stick his head through the leaves at the top to feel the sun and the breeze that would feel like home in the Eastern Forest, at least for a moment.
Kestrel looked to the side on each side, and still he saw the dry lands of the Skyes. Someday, he told himself, Tullamore’s dream would be complete, and there would be enough water in the land to cause rivers to flow, seas to send breaking waves upon their shores, while rains would fall from cloudy skies. But for Kestrel that experience would not be a dream – it would become his reality back in his own land, much sooner, he was sure. He stepped forward, and smelled and felt an atmosphere that was cooler, and full of the fragrance of living things. He turned and looked backwards, but all he saw was the black interior of a cavern behind him. From that angle, in that world, the portal was invisible.
Kestrel laughed in delight, then stepped out of the cave, into a dappled glen, over which trees along the banks of the depression held branches that arched completely across the sky, blocking any view of the color overhead. Kestrel went to one of the smooth-skinned trees, climbed up into its branches, then stopped. He removed his weaponry and stuffed them into a fork in the tree trunk. With more flexibility and less weight, he ran out onto a branch, and leaped up onto the higher branches of a neighboring tree. Within two minutes he managed to fulfill his dream, as he pulled aside the tender, green slender branches in the crown of a tree and was able to look up at a blue sky and a yellow sun.
It seemed to bear an uncanny resemblance to the land of the Inner Seas, he thought. Perhaps Tullamore was wrong, and the portal had deposited him directly back into his own land. The tree he was in had strange leaves, a shape and a pattern he didn’t recognize, but perhaps there were species of trees he did not know, he told himself.
The sun was low in the sky, whether rising or setting, Kestrel did not know. With a last breath of the blowing air above the trees, he began to climb down, back to where his supplies were stashed.
And then he realized he didn’t know what to do next.
Chapter 21
Kestrel pondered what he could do to find direction in a strange, unknown land. He could pray to the local god, although not knowing the name of the god seemed to make that unreliable. He could not imagine that it would be effective though, for what god would hear a prayer that did not contain the god’s name?
He could simply begin to walk out of the vicinity of the portal. He would be likely to meet a native of the land sooner or later that way. But the encounter might not turn out to be productive. He imagined what would happen if an elf walked into parts of Graylee or Hydrotaz even now, when peace nominally reigned between the two races. An encounter with an alien could certainly result in hostilities.
Kestrel presumed he still had his own inherent powers, though he did not know for sure. If so, he would be able to protect himself from attack; if not, he faced likely problems. To satisfy himself that his powers were still intact, he sat on the tree branch where his weapons were stashed, and called upon the energy that he had come to think of as an integral part of his identity. The energy flowed, and a blue shield glowed into existence beside him.
It felt natural and it existed with an easy familiarity. After his extraordinary experiences among the Skyes, the simple use of his own powers was nothing out of the ordinary. He had met his father, and been reconciled to the nature of their relationship, making him feel easier about his powers; and he had briefly exercised the greater powers of divinity, making him feel less intimidated by the level of power that he naturally held. He had come to consider the energy a natural birthright, he realized.
And after his experiences with the power that Ashcrayss had delivered to him, Kestrel felt a greater sense of potential creativity that could be exercised. He could do more things with his own power, he realized. It was not strong, but it could be manipulated, it could be focused, it could be made productive in ways he had never thought of; Krusima had shown him that. He smiled at the thought of doing more with his energy, and then he released the hold he possessed, and his blue shield ceased to glow as it winked out of existence.
“God of this land,” he suddenly did begin to pray anonymously to an unknown deity. Just minutes earlier he had told himself it made no sense, but now he saw no harm in trying either. It would cost him nothing.
“God, lord, I am a visitor, a traveler, passing through your land. I mean no harm, and
will try to do no harm. I seek a way to go among the portals to find my own world. I pray to you for help and guidance and forbearance. Will you help me please?”
It was a short prayer, not a flowery one, but it made his point, and did so in a humble way. He hoped that a god would hear, and would be impressed with the message.
Not long after he expressed his prayerful call for help, he received a reply. When no immediate answer sounded, Kestrel had gathered up his belongings, then lightly hopped down from branch to branch, to land on the ground at the top of the bank that bordered the portal cave and its gully. He arranged his belongings, picked a direction at random, and started walking.
That’s the wrong way, a tiny voice said to him.
He stopped and looked around. “Who said that?” he asked out loud.
“Me,” the small voice replied, from someplace nearby.
Kestrel made a complete circle, as his eyes attempted to pierce every shadow and look behind every bush and tree trunk.
“I’m down here,” the voice explained itself.
On the ground, perhaps fifteen feet away, sat a small animal, something that was a cross between a squirrel and turtle. The creature’s large green eyes stared at him solemnly.
“I understand you,” Kestrel said out loud.
“And I understand you too. It’s quite an accomplishment, isn’t it?” the creature mockingly asked.
“How do we understand each other? Are we in the land of the Inner Seas? Are you speaking human or elvish or gnomish?” Kestrel asked in bewilderment. “What are you?”
The creature’s eyes narrowed. “I’m the one who lives here. Perhaps good manners suggest you should explain yourself, as the intruder.”
Kestrel looked at the creature in exasperation, then bit his tongue.
An Unexpected Deity (Book 7) Page 29