by Ahimsa Kerp
“You knew?” Acan asked.
“I hoped,” Stuart said. “You had an air of mischief about you. And I didn’t think that many gods would smell like chocolate.”
“I don’t understand,” Harper said. “Why bring us up from prison only to bring us back down here?”
“It was important that you see the battle of the monsters,” Acan said. “Very important. But I did not count on the presence of Ajatar. Too much time in her presence would sicken you all, perhaps even kill you.”
“You’re here to rescue us?” Harper asked.
Acan sighed. “If it only it were that easy. No, the presence of the Falcon Lord here limits what I can do. I have made a deal with his subordinates, but it’s the worst kind of compromise. It leaves us both unhappy. I’m afraid we’re here to choose one of you and ensure you don’t die when you fight in the pit tomorrow.”
“What?” all them asked.
Acan held his hands up, placating. “It’s the best arrangement we could reach. Ancient custom decrees that if you fight and win, you can all go free. Not even the Falcon Lord would interfere with that, though he would certainly forbid the deal from being made if he knew.”
“You want us to fight a monster tomorrow. What if we lose?” Harper asked.
Acan frowned. “Then you all die. But that’s what is going to happen anyway. This way you have a small chance of life.”
Chapter 25
“Can the balche restore any who have died?” Baruna asked in a rush.
“It cannot resurrect the dead, child,” Acan said sadly. “That power is beyond me.”
“Then let me fight tomorrow. In the pit.”
“No,” cried Stuart and Harper together.
“The founder of the Sikh religion taught that men and women are equal,” Baruna said defiantly. “There is a long history of female warriors and freedom fighters. From the sainted Mai Bhago the Guru’s own bodyguard, to Jind Kaur, the Maharani, she who sowed the seeds of India’s independence from Britain.”
It was by far the most she had spoken since the death of Keshav. She also had a steel in her voice that Stuart had never suspected existed. He was instantly convinced of how important it was to her. He was also convinced it was a suicide mission.
“I can’t let you,” Stuart said. “I’ll go.”
Baruna whirled on him, her fists clenched. “It’s not up to you. My father and brothers fought on the Pakistani border. I will fight tomorrow.”
Harper pulled him away.
Baruna shifted her focus to Acan.
“I don’t think there’s any arguing with her on this,” Harper said in a low voice.
“But she’ll die,” Stuart said.
“Maybe,” Harper said. “Maybe not. It is her choice to make.”
“Friends. It is dangerous for us to remain here. Our powers of camouflage work only on creatures of our own power. Many here would recognize us, and it would not be pleasant should we be discovered.”
“I understand,” Stuart said.
“I can give you balche,” Acan said. “And Ek Chuaj will provide you with a weapon of your choice. We have also arranged for your fight to be against a relatively weak creature. Relatively,” he added with emphasis. “It is still a terrible monster that will likely slay you.”
“It sounds like there’s a catch?” Stuart said. Something about Acan’s tone made him feel nervous.
“I need to know what you saw in Graben,” Acan said.
“Why? It wasn’t what you expected, I can tell you that,” Stuart said.
“Don’t be so sure. Are the guardians still there?”
“I don’t really want to talk about this now,” Harper said. “Not here. In front of everyone.”
By “everyone” she meant Baruna of course. But Acan was not to be put off.
“Are the defenses of the city still active? Did you see the darkness of night?”
“There were no defenses,” Stuart said. “And yes it got dark there.”
“That is not good enough. You are the first to enter the city in a long time. I must know more.”
“Why?” Harper asked.
“It is not for you to question me. I owe you a life debt, true, but arranging the fight for you tomorrow could balance that.”
Stuart could tell that Harper was just as frustrated as he. He’d always known Acan was capable of manipulation, but for it to be this apparent meant he must be desperate. And that little bit of power was like salve to the prisoners.
“We have to get rest and discuss,” Stuart said. “If we survive, we will tell you more.”
Acan was not pleased, but he made arrangements to meet them out of the city after the fight, should they survive. “Ra is gone now,” he said in a low voice. “That is why we are moving so quickly. He wouldn’t oppose custom, but he’ll be mightily unhappy to learn his prisoners have escaped. Meet us and we will get you to freedom as quickly as possible.”
The two gods left, leaving the humans in their cell. Acan had put them all into one room; it was cold, hard, and not exactly spacious, but it was nice to remain together.
Harper turned to Baruna. “What can we do to help you prepare?”
“I’m ready,” Baruna said. “I’ve always known how to heal. But I don’t have to hide it from him anymore. Now I’ll see how I can hurt.”
***
“Come on, Baruna!” Stuart yelled. He and Harper sat together, with watchdog Nakka, behind them. The stands this day were fuller, as perhaps two or three hundred other gods interested in the battle of upper crust human versus monster had gathered.
Baruna looked ready. She was clad in something very similar to chainmail that covered her from neck to knees. A string around her neck bespoke of a vial of balche. But her weapon?
“I was expecting her to have a scimitar of some sort,” Stuart said to Harper.
She shook her head with worry. “She should have taken one of those laser pistols.”
Stuart nodded his appreciation. “That’s even better. Is it too late to change?”
A roar sounded, filling the large area.
“I guess that answers that,” she said.
Baruna moved, holding her stick in her hand. It was a two-meter long branch, solidly thick with iron on each end. A quarterstaff was the technical name, but either way it was no more than a stout stick. Stuart couldn’t guess why she had chosen that over a real weapon.
And then the monster appeared. Stuart recognized it instantly. It was smaller than an Andrewsarchus, smaller even than a modern day lion. But it was dense, massively built. Short legs held up the stocky body, and it had a short, bobbed tail. Two large, serrated canines extended from its mouth. They were at least eighteen centimeters long.
“Smilodon!” Harper whispered in dismay.
“A saber-tooth tiger. Oh shit,” Stuart said. “She’s dead.” The beast roared a challenge. It was agile, quick, and it padded toward Baruna, with a hunter’s grace.
“I can’t look,” Stuart said. He raised his hands before his eyes, but he could not look away from those long, deadly teeth.
A murmur went up from the assembled gods.
Baruna had first blood. As fast as the Smilodon was, the human woman had greater lateral quickness. And fast she was. Her body moved with grace and precision, as she slid behind the animal, and swung her club hard into its leg.
The Smilodon whimpered as its leg broke.
“She mentioned to me once that she could fight,” Harper said. “I had no idea she meant something like this.”
The saber-toothed cat whirled on her, great jaws opening wide. Those two long teeth glowed with potential violence. Baruna calmly smacked her staff down onto the creature’s tongue. It bit down, tearing her weapon in two. She slipped behind it and whacked the cat’s other rear leg with both ends of her stave. The leg shattered, with a bone-crunching sound that made Stuart wince for all that he cheered.
With its two rear legs done, Baruna made short work of the Smilodon.
She sprang onto its massive back, clutching the ragged ends of her cudgel. The beast did not want her there and bucked once, but Baruna leaned forward, and held a broken stave in each hand. With a snarl, she shoved each pointed end into the animal’s eyes. The fight and the life fled at once from the cat. Baruna jumped down, face passive. She was hardly even breathing hard.
The entire fight had taken less than three minutes.
Stuart was so shocked he could think of nothing to say. Beside him, Harper was beaming, just beaming.
“I thought she was going to die today,” she confessed in a low voice. “I thought we were going to die today.”
For most of the assembled gods, the fight was a disappointment, but Stuart and Harper gave her a standing ovation. Baruna was shuffled off as a tusked pig as large as a bear was brought in to face a creature seemingly made only of steam.
Stuart saw no more of that fight as he and Harper, trailed by Nakka, went to meet Baruna.
She seemed more alive, though still far from happy.
“Baruna! That was amazing,” Harper said.
“I am so sorry I didn’t trust you,” Stuart said. “I would have been Smilodon dung.”
Even Nakka added to the praise. “I did not know you upper worlders could fight so well.”
“What kind of kung fu was that?” Stuart asked, who had watched his share of MMA fights and Shaolin movies.
Baruna frowned, unhappy at the attention, but unable to hide from it. “My father trained me in the science of weapons. Shastar Vidiya, we call it. It developed in the seventeenth century when we were under attack from both Muslims and Hindus.”
“But when is the last time you fought somebody?” Harper asked.
“Every moment I am awake, Shastar Vidiya is always with me.”
A loud crash reverberated throughout the city. There was a sound and a smell that defied description but made cold sweat appear on Stuart’s palms.
“What was that?” Harper asked.
Nakka looked upward. Her expression was of one who unexpectedly bit into a lime.
“That is Ra. He has returned from the upper world.”
Chapter 26
True to her word, Nakka led them out of Omphalos. She didn’t speak much and hurriedly led them down to another level, one between their cells and the fighting arena. They emerged into the purple twilight. The smell of fresh air hit them with wondrous power. Even the harsh scent of the cracked desert around them was a relief after the tight quarters of Omphalos.
“Selvage is that way,” Nakka said pointing to the east. “Follow the trail as best you can.”
They said goodbye to Nakka, who in her own odd way had humanized Omphalos somewhat for Stuart, and began walking east. Before they had taken more than a few dozen steps, a rider appeared on the horizon.
They were quickly united with Acan, who came with four Selvagian megamoose.
“You survived,” he cried. “I hoped, but did not know it would be so. Ride with me now, away from this damnable city.”
Harper and Baruna each knew what they were doing, but Stuart had not ridden a horse since he was a child. It was difficult to even climb on these massive beasts, and their antlers, up close, were so big that it was hard to see how they kept their heads up. Fortunately the moose were quite tame, and the desert was flat and the ride was not too uncomfortable.
Baruna descended back into silence. Stuart wondered where she was, in her head. Back in the UK with Keshav? Or a little girl growing up on the Punjab? He shook his head. He was no grief counselor, and he could only guess at what it must be like for her. Harper rode next to her, on a particularly flatulent moose. Stuart and Acan were a couple of meters ahead of them. Though he knew it wouldn’t help, Stuart glanced back at the monolithic Omphalos. Escape had seemed too easy, and he felt once more like events were happening too quickly.
Acan chuckled softly. “He’s not coming after you. Not yet.”
“We will be safe in Selvage, right?” Stuart asked. “How far is it?”
“How far is Selvage?” Acan asked. “Far. Ek Chuaj has returned to marshal our peoples. A long-awaited battle is almost upon us. But we are not returning all the way back to Selvage.”
“We aren’t?”
“Oh no. There’s no need to go return there. We will clash with the armies of Ra at the Cinnamon Hills.”
“We’re not going to Selvage?” Selvage had been the only safe part of their trip since he’d left Argentina. “What is happening at these hills?”
“I mentioned this land to you once. The Cinnamon Hills are where light breaks through from the true surface. It is this we catch and spread throughout our realm, though it is faint, and the crystals in the earth give it a purple hue. It is also here that we charge our crystal armor. Here that the eye of Ra is at its most powerful. It is the nexus of our land. It is why war between Selvage and Omphalos exists. “
Seeing the worried look on Stuart’s face, he added: “What’s wrong? Once we defeat the Falcon Lord, you can return home.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, believe me,” Stuart said. “I just am not sure we can defeat Ra. I mean, you saw those monsters they fight with. How could anyone have a chance against that?”
“Not all of those monsters are for war,” Acan said. “Though they take their battles seriously, they don’t quite have the same passion as they do for entertainment. It’s easy to lose a war. Every immortal has lost more than we care to remember. But if you live forever, entertainment is of utmost importance.”
“Okay, that aside. I mean, none of you can oppose Ra.”
“This is true. But he rarely acts upon such matters himself. We would not act as we have if it were so hopeless.”
That brought up something that had been bothering Stuart.
“How does it work? I mean, Ra is here. But is Thor? Zeus? Loki? Anansi?” He’d learned of the latter from a Neil Gaiman book. “What gods are real and what gods are not?”
Acan smiled, showing his teeth. “Apologies. I am not laughing at you. I forget how ignorant you mortals are. Lucky for you, it is a long ride to the Cinnamon Hills.”
As they rode, Stuart learned that their enemy wasn’t really the Egyptian god, Ra. More like, the Egyptian legend was a shadow cast by the real god. The same being’s shadow had been interpreted as Zeus, as Shiva, as Haldi, as Xipe-Totec, as Cernunnos, as Amaterasu, as Nyarlathotep, and as a hundred other names that Stuart did not recognize. The more powerful the gods, the more incarnations they seemed to have. Acan himself, he said, was barely known outside of South America.
Not everyone on Lemuria, and here in the center of the world were, strictly speaking, gods at all. There were always those willing to follow those more powerful. The men who had ambushed Acan were just men, servants of Omphalos.
Stuart was not an expert on mythology. But there was one big god he felt like was conspicuous by his absence.
“So this Falcon Lord is the presence behind the myths of Zeus, Ra, and Shiva. But not Odin?” he asked.
Acan winked at him. “There’s only one Odin, man.”
“Where is he now?”
Acan shrugged. “The Gallows Lord goes where he pleases.” He turned to face Stuart. “Now I need you to tell me more about Graben.”
Stuart told him all there was to tell. The attack of the moths bored him. The threat of monstrous beasts did not warrant a comment. But when Stuart told him of discovering the invisible golems and the shared pleasure balls, Acan grew excited.
“They did not fight you? The golems.”
“Of course not,” Stuart said. The very idea was funny. “They helped us.”
“I knew they would! I knew they must. But you told me you did not encounter the guardians.”
“I didn’t know that’s what you meant.”
“Ah yes. I constantly underestimate your ignorance.” There was no malice in Acan’s voice, only good cheer. “The guardians are the golems, of course. Created by the people of Graben.”
&nbs
p; “And who was that? We found no sign of any living people.”
Acan pursed his lips. “If you haven’t discovered that for yourself, I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”
They rode on in silence for some time.
***
The landscape gradually changed as they reached the Cinnamon Hills. Stuart blinked, unable to believe the landscape before him. They had seen a lot of new things at the center of the Earth, but nothing this truly beautiful.
Dark green forests grew over emerald green grass. Little wisps of fog drifted sluggishly through the thick forest leaves. This would have been striking enough, but there were thousands of conical brown hills rising across the gently rolling plain. Some were nestled together, others stretched out of the forests in solitude, but there were more than his mind could comprehend. With the purple sky above, it made him miss his camera for truly the first time. He would like to bring his sister here, he realized.
It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, he realized. Up until now, The Pas in northern Manitoba had been his number one, but that was mere blue lakes and granite cliffs. These cinnamon brown hills, climbing out of the carpets of green, represented a splendid alien vista.
They waited there for a few moments, just before crossing a small stream on the edge of a forest. The women had fallen a little behind. Stuart’s moose wandered over to a tree, and began stripping off the bark, chewing it. Stuart slipped off his moose and realized how sore his thighs were. He stretched and ambled down to the brook, where he splashed the dry desert dust off his face. Then he drank deeply from the stream. The water tasted of berries, moss, and everything nice. He drank until his stomach hurt.
When he looked up Acan was frowning. “They’re almost here. But there is something close behind them.”
Stuart stared back the way he came. Harper and Baruna had almost caught up. They were riding quickly now, too.