by Steve Thomas
Still, he wanted to know what she meant by that.
***
He returned the next evening with twice as much salted fish, hoping that Tanuk would stay longer if she had more food to eat. It wasn’t long before her glowing eyes drifted toward him. She popped out of the water and rested her elbows on the dock, then looked up at him with those reptilian eyes. “Why do you keep coming here?” she asked.
“To see you,” he said with a wide smile.
“Why really?”
“I was sent to investigate the deaths.” The lie came easily because it was so close to the truth.
“I told you I ate them,” she said. Her tone was matter-of-fact, no different than as if they were discussing eating salted carp, but she was watching closely for his reaction. She seemed to enjoy teasing him, or threatening him; Habrien couldn’t tell which. He wanted to draw his knees to his chest to protect it, or to stand up and retreat to the table, but he fought those defensive instincts. He could afford to show no sign of fear in front of Tanuk.
He held on to his composure. “But why? Why Mergelings? Why not…”
She grinned at that. “You think Tanuk is a monster.”
“No, I—” stammered Habrien.
“Scary crocodile monster hungry for human flesh. Hungry for Mergelings.” She snapped her jaw at him. Habrien flinched, and she laughed. “It’s not about hunger.” She picked up a ribbon of fish and wiggled it at him before slurping it down. She looked at him quizzically, perhaps searching for a response, then dipped her head under the water and sighed out a wall of bubbles. She floated up again with her eyes narrowed. “You brought two offerings, so I’ll tell you. Mergelings caused the war. The Sangrook Demon and the Converged One, they ate my brothers and sisters. So I eat their children.”
Habrien gulped, much to Tanuk’s amusement. “You’re an old god,” he said. The world had once been brimming with gods. Before the War of the Gods, there had been a god for every stream, every forest, every town, every concept, or so the stories went. Few of them held much power, but they were feared and revered. And then they went to war and nearly destroyed the world. All that survived of them were myths and legends.
This woman before him was one of those legends. How much more valuable was her mind than her essence? What ancient secrets could Habrien or Maldon learn from her? His mission could wait a few more days.
“Yes,” said Tanuk. “I am a god. Tanuk of the Tanuk River, scary crocodile monster who eats naughty children and dishonest fishermen.” She grinned.
“I thought the old gods all died off.”
The grin faded and her eyes softened. “Lonely crocodile monster.”
He saw a vulnerability in her words. An opportunity. A way to make her lower her guard. He only had to sound sincere, and he found it surprisingly easy. “I’m lonely, too,” he said. “I live in a world full of soulbound men, of Mergelings. You either join the Convergence or you join the Sangrooks, and you don’t always have a choice. Pick a god or be conquered by his followers, but either way your mind is enslaved. I’ve managed to navigate it, to hold on to myself, but I don’t know how long I can last.” It felt odd to say that out loud. He’d never dared before, not even when he was alone, for fear that he’d be overheard and dragged before Maldon to be soulbound.
“Don’t call them gods,” Tanuk whispered, a growing malice in her eyes, a long-contained rage.
“What?”
“I am a god. They are Mergelings. Very large, very powerful Mergelings.”
“Why did it happen?” Habrien asked. His curiosity, not his scheme, now led the way. Priests and scholars speculated about the War of the Gods and the world before, but so much knowledge had been lost.
Tanuk went silent, thinking, deciding. At last she reared up out of the water and splashed onto the dock to sit next to Habrien. She pointed at her feet, still submerged next to his own. She kicked him, playfully. “I cannot leave my river. Amero could not leave the sun. This is right. This is good. But some gods felt trapped, so they created Mergelings to carry their minds across the world. This was wrong. This was evil. This was war. Maybe a god wondered why he had the smallest mountain or the fewest fish. Why does my town get less rain? Why did my forest get cut down? We needed to be kept apart, but Mergelings brought us together. Then…” she cut off and shook her head. “Tricky human, making Tanuk spill secrets.” She nudged him with her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” said Habrien. “I just thought you might like a chance to talk about it.”
“No one to talk to,” said Tanuk.
“No one to talk to,” Habrien repeated. He looked at her, seeing her fully for the first time so close to the light and out of the water. Despite her reptilian eyes, her scarred skin, and her deformed face, he found a beauty in her. For the sake of his mission, he made himself find the beauty in her. Habrien took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
And kissed her.
After a long moment, Tanuk pulled her head back. With a coy smile, she said, “Naughty human.” She gently patted him on the cheek and slid into the river.
Habrien stood up, shook the water off his feet, and took a seat at the table. He pulled the extractor out of his satchel and ran his finger down the twisted drill. He had ingratiated himself to this old god, just as he had become Maldon’s trusted herald. He was close.
***
He visited Tanuk every night, always bringing fish for her. They talked of loneliness and duty, but Tanuk was careful not to spill any more ancient secrets and Habrien guarded his mission well. He no longer had to force himself to make conversation or to seem interested. Tanuk was lively and playful in a way Habrien thought the world had lost. He grew to enjoy those conversations, wishing he could have met her without pretext, wishing that their meetings weren’t fated for a morbid end.
But even though he was no Mergeling, he still served a master, and he dared not think what Maldon would do to him if he failed. He needed that essence before the heir was born. He couldn’t wait much longer for an opportunity, nor could he overplay his hand, and in that delicate balance he waited for Tanuk to turn her back on him.
“I want to show you something,” Tanuk said one night from within river, her mouth taking in water as she spoke.
“Show me, then,” Habrien said.
“Not here, stupid human. Come to Tanuk’s home.”
Her home? Habrien hadn’t considered that a god would have a home. He had assumed the whole river was Tanuk’s home. “Where?” he asked.
“Always questions,” she said. “Get your things and come.”
Habrien obeyed wordlessly. He strolled to the table and gathered up his shoes and satchel. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow at Tanuk.
Tanuk sighed and rolled her eyes, then swam to the dock and pulled her arms up onto the planking. She extended a hand. “Come with Tanuk,” she said.
Habrien hesitated for a moment. Was this it? Had it all been a ruse? Was she about to pull him under the water to drown and eat him? No. They were friends. Tanuk was amicable and, more importantly, uncomplicated. And she only ate Mergelings.
He took her scar-scaled hand. Tanuk’s grip tightened and she bolted through the waves, dragging Habrien with her. He toppled off the dock, barely having time to bank a lungful of air before he hit the water. And yet he didn’t hit the water. While Tanuk swam, Habrien found himself somehow skimming the surface, never so much as getting his toes wet. He was like a sleigh on ice as she towed him forward.
They jetted through the foggy night along the winding river, first past the village, then across the surrounding farmland, then through the wild Fell Forest. He’d never been inside this forest. People lived within it, but they also lived short, harsh lives.
As Tanuk pulled him on, the fog parted to reveal what could only be Tanuk’s home. He had heard endless stories of the myriad wonders built by men and gods before the war. He had stood inside massive fortresses. He had sprinted atop a wall that seemed to divi
de the continent. Once, under Maldon’s direction, he had even plundered a temple so beautiful with its stained glass and friezes that he swore he felt the presence of those long-dead deities.
The wonder before him was unlike any of those. A crocodile’s head straddled the river, the arch of its jaw stretching from shore to shore, scales and patterns carved all across its surface. Its forehead was a bridge with a few scales protruding to act as steps and a railing. Its eyes were mosaics and smoke billowed from its nostrils. A heavy upper jaw rose above the waters, complete with stalactite fangs casting shade upon the water flowing from its throat, like a god vomiting forth all the waters of the world. Great chains and winches filled its maw, giving the impression that the crocodile’s throat could close and act as a dam. The crocodile’s head was a marvel of stonework, engineering, and religion all in one, and Habrien forgot, for a moment, why exactly he had come.
As he grew closer, he saw that that stonework was worn and moldy, sprouting shrubs and ferns here and there. He marveled at its sheer size. The structure’s eyes were raised four times his height. Tanuk brought him through the great stone maw.
They came to rest at last in a pool in the center of a torch-lit shrine, where the warm water embraced Habrien without quite touching him. Water flowed down the mossy walls adorned with a vast collection of tributes to Tanuk and her river, slicking the floors and trickling into the pool. Here was a statue of the crocodile-headed goddess. There, a painting of salmon leaping into the air. Here, an urn with a depiction of a child drinking from a stream. There, a seashell mosaic in an ordered geometric pattern.
“This is your temple,” he said, marveling at Tanuk’s home.
“Yes,” she said, leaning against the edge of the pool, arching her back to draw Habrien’s attention to her bare, scale-scarred breasts.
“This place is incredible. How did you keep it a secret?”
“Ate anyone who found it,” she said with her wicked, teasing smile.
Habrien shook his head. He never knew how to respond to her barbs. He wondered, sometimes, whether she was joking. “Why did you bring me here?”
“To show you,” she said. “And to ask you to stay. Tanuk is lonely crocodile monster, after all.” She slithered through the water and embraced him. Her voice softened, stripped of its usual frivolity. “You and Tanuk together, where the Mergelings can’t find us.”
“Why can’t they—”
Tanuk pressed a finger over his lips. “Naughty human. Too curious. Pleasure first. Questions later.” She ran her finger down his chest and to her own waist, where she unfastened her skirt and let it drift away in the pool. Her scale-like scars did in fact cover her entire body. With a wry smile, she spun and slipped to the opposite side of the pool.
She stopped at the edge and leaned over it, invitingly raising her hips.
Habrien was sorely tempted by Tanuk’s offer, to take her and abandon his duties to Maldon. But he knew there would be no peace for him. Maldon would hunt him down with that monstrous scythe, and his death would be a saga.
No, this was his best chance. She was naked, trusting, and vulnerable. He quietly pulled the extractor from his satchel and approached. He glided through the water, still untouched by it, and his movements were silent.
“Do not let Tanuk become bored crocodile monster,” she said, still facing away from him. “You do know how this game is played? Do you need a mischievous god to teach you the ancient secrets?”
Habrien put a hand on the small of her back to reassure her. “No,” he said. “I know what I have to do.”
He raised the extractor high over his head.
He plunged it down, aiming for the soft bend of her neck.
Before drill came near her, Tanuk spun like a whirlpool. She batted the drill aside with one hand and grabbed him by the throat with the other. “Lying, tricky human,” she snarled. She grew as she spoke, lifting Habrien into the air with her. Soon, his feet dangled over the pool. “You think Tanuk is stupid monster but Tanuk is smarter than you.” Her skin turned from bronze to green, and her scars morphed into scales. Her snout grew forward until it was as long as he was tall, and wicked teeth sprouted throughout. “You think I couldn’t guess why you came? You didn’t come to bring me fish.” She slammed Habrien into the water, which no longer spared him, and held him there.
She pulled him up to gasp for breath. “Tanuk, please,” he whimpered.
For that, she held him down until his lungs burned.
“You serve the Mergeling. You came to kill me.”
“Yes, but--”
She hissed, and Habrien froze in terror. “There’s only one way to take my river back. You belong to me now, and the Mergelings will see you.”
Another dive. This time, she didn’t bring him up again.
***
Habrien remembered.
A priest came to her and said the gods had found a way to give part of their strength to their priests. He wanted to do this, to travel afar and let Tanuk do great things through him. Tanuk told him that she had no desire to leave her river and less desire to share power. She knew from then on that Mergelings would be trouble.
The red-hot brand scored his flesh a thousand times.
Habrien remembered.
Her priests returned, bearing news that the gods of the waters were forming an alliance in case of trouble. “Choose one of us as your emissary,” her high priest said. “Give one of your loyal servants the honor of merging with you.” Instead, she ate her own high priest to teach them a lesson about humility.
He was hungry. He craved more than salted fish.
Habrien remembered.
The priests returned again. A Mergeling of some patron god of stonemasons had poisoned a lake god’s sacred pool. The stonemason refused to take responsibility. Yute refused to intervene, so the gods of the waters were going to war. Tanuk was summoned. Tanuk told them to have their war without her. She belonged in her river.
A fisherman dragged his net through the water. He was one of Sangrook’s Mergelings. That was against the rules. This was Tanuk’s river. Habrien pulled on the net until the boat capsized, then bundled up the fisherman and dragged him down.
Habrien remembered.
The war had grown and grown. Now gods became Mergelings. Her priests said that the gods of the waters, those who yet lived, were merging into one. They wanted to add Tanuk’s strength to their collective. Tanuk drowned their messenger.
Habrien skulked through the shadows of Maldon’s keep. He had never been so lithe, so agile. Now he could move without being seen. Now he could slit throats and slip through doors. Now he could bite through bone.
Habrien remembered.
Two last emissaries came, from Sangrook and the Converged One. The time to choose a side was over, they said. They were the only two gods left, and they wanted to ensure that Tanuk stayed neutral. They had agreed among themselves that neither would kill or absorb her, and they would never use their powers against her. Tanuk would stay free, they said. All she had to do was act like she had died in the war. No priests. No offerings. Act like Tanuk was no longer a god. No Mergelings, as if that was some great temptation. They said there was no place left for the old gods. Tanuk said her place was the river. As long as they left her river and never returned, she would follow their rules. They agreed and those emissaries, those Mergelings, killed all Tanuk’s priests in front of her. Tanuk wept in her temple, alone.
The gates of Maldon’s Keep were at the end of a drawbridge above a moat, guarded by two men with halberds. Habrien had met them before, but he couldn’t recall their names. On another day, he might have been able to saunter past them with nothing but a curt salute. Now, he faced their crossed pole arms. He stared at the men, one after the other. They would not stop him.
Habrien remembered!
A man swam to Tanuk’s temple, the great crocodile dam. He climbed up the lower jaw and stepped into the crocodile’s maw, hanging on to one of the great stone teeth. He kicke
d a stack of bowls out of his way, bowls that had once held offerings for Tanuk, but languished empty for decades. The noise awoke Tanuk, who had slumbered in her pool since the death of her priests. She climbed up the throat of her temple to find the man desecrating it. He attacked her with steel and flame, but the steel wasn’t sharp enough to cut a god and Sangrook’s flame was sworn not to harm her. The man was slow to realize he was outmatched, but Tanuk was reluctant to kill him lest she break her contract with his master. So she half-heartedly defended herself while the mad Mergeling flailed at her until he grew weary and withdrew.
Sangrook had betrayed her. His Mergeling had broken the agreement.
Habrien remembered. Habrien hated Mergelings.
And so Habrien hated himself.
***
The larger of the two, the one with black hair said, “Whatever you are, back off now, and maybe we won’t tell Maldon you were here.” The other one, whose brown beard bristled out of his helmet, smirked.
The guardsmen had sworn their strength to Maldon Sangrook, but Habrien was bound directly to a god. “You don’t want to fight me,” said Habrien. He shouldered his way through the halberds and kicked at the door. It swung open, but Habrien heard the shuffling of feet behind him. He dropped to the ground to narrowly dodge the axe-head soaring through the air where he just stood. Habrien rolled backwards onto the bridge and hopped to his feet. One guard was readying for another swing while the other cautiously approached.
“I warned you,” said Habrien.
The moat of Maldon’s Keep had been stolen from Tanuk’s river, but the water was still hers. Habrien reached down with his right hand, then swung it over his head as if throwing a ball at a wild angle. A wave followed, crashing over the two guards and swirling around Habrien. Armor made of hardened ice and seashells coated his scarred body.
The two guards gasped for air. Another wave tossed them off the drawbridge. Habrien scooped up one of the halberds and conjured a line of ice crystals along its length. He pushed through the open door and stomped into a grand hallway with a swirling wall of water rearing at his back. A dozen more guards had already scrambled to face him.