The Godlost Land

by Curtis, Greg

  “No!” Dina very nearly yelled at her in shock. “We can't let one of these traitors live even a second longer than they must! They have to die! And we can't stop the explosions that will be unleashed when they pass from the world and the binding is broken again.”

  “However.” Dina continued on a more calm note, “there is one way we can make sure that the explosion doesn't harm anyone. No one in this world at least.”

  “This world?”

  “If we can banish the wizards one by one to the demon realm, they will be killed there and the devastation will happen to Tartarus.”

  “Banishment? To Tartarus?” It was an interesting idea, but aside from the difficulty in doing it to an angry wizard who didn't want to be sent there, there was one obvious problem with it. “You would send the wizards to the safety of their allies? Perhaps to return later?”

  “There is no safety in the demon realm. Demons eat one another. And they are starving. Any wizards we send there will be dead within seconds. Eaten by their allies. And Xin would be unable to prevent that – even if he wanted to. Besides, demons do not generally survive well in our world; why should we do any better in theirs?”

  “But these are powerful wizards.”

  “Who will be surrounded by thousands or millions of hungry demons. Possibly they won't even be able to breathe the air. They will survive at best a matter of heartbeats.”

  It made sense Erislee supposed – if she was right. She had heard that the demon realm was like that – though of course she'd never been to Tartarus to see for herself. Anyone who had had likely died soon after. Actually they would have been dead before. Tartarus was part of the realm of the dead. Besides, even if the wizards had lived, no one returned from Hades. Not without the gods' help. And Tartarus was the deepest and darkest part of Hades. Home to the most vile of sinners and their tormentors, the demons. That was their purpose after all.

  According to the priests of Pluto, God of the Underworld, the demon realm was like a jungle. But instead of animals they had demons. Endless demons of every size and shape. And all of them shared one trait; hunger. Savage, unrelenting hunger. They killed and ate one another and only the strongest survived. All of them would have come to the world to feed had it been possible for them or had the world been safe for them. Thankfully it wasn't. So instead they came when summoned, though for the most part they did not come in person, sending instead their words and their servants. Only a few could remain in the world for any length of time. It was one of the ways in which the world of the dead and that of the living were kept apart. People could not survive in Hades, and demons could not survive outside of it. Which was fortunate, for if the demons could survive in the living realm, they would quickly destroy it. No one could stop them.

  Est of course was one of the few that could survive for a time here. She could be summoned and then remain in the living realm for a time. And she could use her demonic abilities here as well. That was part of the reason that she made such a good assassin and teacher of assassins. It was no doubt why her students had become Erislee's gaolers. She'd taught them well. Est was far from the most powerful of her kind, but her ability to linger in the living realm gave her an advantage others didn't have.

  Most demons though made their deals through portals and gates and accepted their payments the same ways. Sometimes that payment was bone and blood. Sometimes it was life and death. Whatever they could feed on. In the demon king's case it was the life essence that he craved. They guessed that that was why the deal had been made as it had.

  The demon king raised his armies and sent them through the gate. And his army then proceeded to kill everything within reach. And every person that they killed provided the demon king with a piece of their lives for him to consume. He desperately wanted that food. So in return for being allowed to have his armies running free in the world he had given the Circle wizards some control over the creatures so that they could become their army. And he had given them their six great answers, though of course their wizards were right; he would have cheated them in some way. It was a logical arrangement she thought, though utterly detestable.

  And now what Dina was suggesting sounded exactly the same. Logical, but utterly detestable. It wasn't hunting. It wasn't a clean kill. It wasn't even battle. Not when you were throwing your quarry bodily to the demons to consume. And Dina wasn't even talking about doing it in the rush of the pursuit. But afterwards. In a cold, heartless way. It made even the hangings seem respectable.

  “You know that that is not the way of the Goddess.”

  “And you know that these twelve are my friends. Or I thought they were.”

  Dina's voice softened a little as her face paled. She looked old all of a sudden. Far older than the sixty or so years that she had actually been in the world. And Erislee instantly regretted her words. Of course the woman understood what she was saying.

  “But they have betrayed me. They have betrayed the rest of the Circle – those we watched over and those we served. They have betrayed everything they stood for. And they have betrayed the five kingdoms. Yet even knowing all of that I would favour a quick death for them. However, killing them in the usual way will result in the deaths of many, many more. And there are so few left.”

  “Besides, this is Tartarus we're speaking of. The realm where the most evil of men are sent when they die. Cannibals and child killers like Tantalus. Murderers of their own kin like Ixion. These traitors and murderers would be going there anyway. None of them would be going to Elysium. So all we're really doing is shortening the journey.”

  That was sophistry at best Erislee knew. Word play to disguise the true horror of the act. But she didn't tell her that. The wizard understood only too well what she was saying. She was just trying to pretend that she didn't. To shield herself from her own dark thoughts.

  “Erislee, this is not a thought I came to easily. It is not one made out of anger or fear. It is not of justice or revenge. It is only about saving those who survive so that one day this land may recover. And I very much fear that if and when the last of the twelve is killed in this realm the five kingdoms themselves will be destroyed in the act.”

  Erislee said nothing for a while after that. Instead she simply stood there trying to think if what she was saying was even possible. Five kingdoms destroyed? Could she be right? She had never heard of magic of such power or scope as that which Dina Windstrider was suggesting. But what if she was right? What if the death of their enemy could be their own death as well? Could she even allow that possibility?

  Though she would have to pray on it Erislee realised that there was only one possible answer to that question. But they couldn't! Could they? It entailed doing something monstrous to prevent something even worse from happening. Erislee took a few moments to let that understanding sink in. To calm her nerves, before she spoke.

  “Tell me what you will need.”

  “We will need to see an arcane smith and get him to fashion something for us.”

  Visit the arcane smith? That was a surprise. But it was also a thought that appealed to Erislee suddenly. She wanted to see Harl again. She needed to thank him for having rescued her. And maybe berate him a little for having tried to kill her. She also wanted to know if he would finally bend his neck to the Goddess as was proper. Especially now that he was becoming such a useful part of their war. But of course she knew that she could not afford the time. Whitebrook was seventy leagues south of them. Even on the back of a unicorn that would take days of riding each way. And she had no idea what might happen while she was away. She said as much to the wizard.

  “That is less of a problem than you think. You do know that I am a wizard of sky? I can fly us there in only a few hours or so.”

  “Fly?” That did not sound so safe. But it did sound exciting. And a day away from the endless streams of soldiers coming to her with their problems would be a blessing. But was it right?

  “I'll have to think on it.” But even as she said it E
rislee knew what her answer had to be. No matter what she couldn't allow the five kingdoms to be destroyed.

  Chapter Twenty One

  The sun had disappeared for the day by the time Harl walked into the town. It hadn't actually set, just moved behind some clouds, but without it things were very grey. It had been like that for a while. But that was only to be expected. It was the end of summer, the first hint of autumn was poking its nose in the air and the nights were cooling again. Some dark clouds and a little rain were normal enough. And Harl didn't mind the fall rain. It wasn't nearly as cold as that of winter and it filled his water tanks.

  But even the greyness couldn't dampen the people's spirits. Even now, months after having been freed from the yoke of the tyrant priest, they laughed and smiled a lot more than they had. The children squealed and ran around in the streets laughing. In fact it seemed that there were many more children than he had previously thought living in the town. School had been restarted to teach them their letters and numbers. Apprentices were being taken on as well. And the houses were being repaired and even repainted. There was whitewash everywhere. After so many years of suffering and fear he supposed it was only to be expected. And maybe a little of what the people had hoped for in Whitebrook was coming true.

  The town was busier as trade between nearby towns picked up. There were also bards visiting regularly and a few soldiers arriving to be trained in the fort. Some of those who had lived in hiding out of the town were coming in more often to buy things. The townsfolk were buying too – usually the stuff they had been doing without for years. The little luxuries that made life so much more pleasant. All the things that hadn't been important before. After all what did you care about such things when at any moment the priests and their monsters could turn up at your doorstep and demand all the coin you had? When they might kill you if you said anything to even suggest that you weren't faithful? But when there was hope, the little luxuries became important again.

  At this rate he suspected, it would be at least a year or two before the people found their balance again. Before the dark times were finally left in the past and they returned to a normal life. That was provided they won the war of course. If they didn't, and if the false temple reasserted its power throughout the land, this brief time back in the sun would seem like a cruel dream. And he had no certainty that the war would be won. While much of the kingdom of the Rainbow Mountains was now free of the taint of the false temple, the city of Midland Heights still held firm behind its huge stone walls.

  While everyone waited impatiently for word from the bards that the city had finally fallen, it was beginning to look as though there would be no quick end in sight to the siege.

  Harl wondered if that was why he'd been summoned by the commander at short notice. To build siege weapons. More likely though it was some sort of magic question. Rightly or wrongly, he was considered to be some sort of expert in matters of magic. The sad truth though was that with only a few good wizards still alive and even fewer of those working for the rebels he just might be. But what Marni thought he could tell her that might be useful he didn't know. He wasn't a soldier or a tactician.

  Still, when the soldier had ridden out that morning with the message about the meeting he'd been happy to come. It was after all a walk into town after so many weeks of solid work, a chance to eat a meal in the alehouse – Konig's wife Soria was a master with the roast – and maybe he could also make a trade for a new blanket. It would make a refreshing change from his days at the pit.

  One thing had changed in town he realised as he walked down the street. All of a sudden people were greeting him. Normally when he came to town the most he got was the occasional nod from a shopkeeper – and that was probably as it should be. But now it seemed he was a popular man. People knew he was a wizard and not the solitary trapper he had been previously thought to be. There had been talk for a while he knew, and after the death of Alenda Goldeneyes that had grown a lot. The bards were even making up tales about it.

  They also knew he was fashioning weapons and armour for the war. He understood that. Still, it caught him by surprise when people he hardly knew came up to him to tell him 'well done' and clap him on the back. Actually it left him feeling like an awkward fool. He was no hero. No mighty wizard. He wasn't someone that should be applauded. So when it happened all he felt was embarrassment.

  It came as a relief when he was finally able to step into the alehouse and shake off the awkwardness as well as the rain.

  Inside the alehouse things had also changed. Of course the last time he had stepped inside had been before the temple had burnt and ever since then nothing had been the same. But in the alehouse things were more different than he would ever have expected.

  There was music for one. Some bard was playing a lute for a few coins. There was also laughter – another sound that he hadn't heard a lot of in a long time. And of course the ale and cider was flowing freely and a serving wench was rushing around between the tables.

  “Harl!”

  He heard his name called and looked to see an arm raised and waving at him from one of the tables at the back. An arm attached to a woman he knew. But it took him a moment to recognise her. And then when he did he almost wished he didn't.

  It was the High Priestess Erislee Moonsong! What in all the hells was she doing here? In this town? In an alehouse of all places? It didn't seem a very holy place after all. Besides, he had thought she was at Midland Heights. Leading the army, helping with the siege. Still, at least she didn't seem angry. Nyma had said she wasn't when she'd ridden through a few weeks before. That in fact the High Priestess believed she actually owed him something. But could she really believe that? After all, he had been planning on killing her and she knew that.

  She had a companion with her, a woman of advancing years and long, curly hair who looked every bit as out of place in the alehouse as did the High Priestess. But whoever she was, the one thing he was sure of was that she wasn't one of Erislee's soldiers. There was absolutely nothing of the military about her. A school teacher maybe – she had the look. But she was sitting in the gloom far from the light of the lamps or the fire and it was a dull day. He couldn't make out a lot about her, save that she seemed to be staring at him.

  Knowing he was expected Harl walked over to the table, trying to pretend a calmness he didn't feel while weaving his way between boisterous patrons. At least they weren't drunk yet, but he knew they would be soon. Konig's ale was a powerful brew and his mead so sweet that people tended to drink far too much of it. As for his cider Harl had heard varying reports, but none had ever said it wasn't potent.

  “High Priestess.”

  Harl greeted Erislee politely, even though he didn't really feel it was deserved. He was satisfied that she and her temple were innocent of the crimes that had been committed in their name. But in his view even if they hadn't committed them they had still somehow allowed themselves to be overrun by wizards and demon magic. That seemed like a failure to him. But then when those same wizards were the most powerful and respected of his peers, and he had never even imagined that they could do something so terrible, there was no shortage of failure to go around. No shortage of shame to feel either.

  “You look older boy.”

  The High Priestess' companion addressed him and he instantly knew the voice. Just as he knew the face. But it took him a moment to think who she was. It had been a long time since he had seen her.

  “Dina Windstrider!” It was her. Three hundred leagues and five years from Lion's Crest, but it was still her.

  “Well at least your memory still works. And I suppose I should be grateful you're not trying to kill us. I have been hearing many strange tales about you boy. But none of them about your even tempered nature.”

  Harl could believe that. He doubted that either the High Priestess or her sister held him in any great regard. He had tried to kill Erislee after all and had caused Nyma plenty of consternation. As for the commander she regarded him as
“difficult”. Probably more so after Alenda Goldeneyes' death when much of the fort had been damaged. Even the soldiers who came to him with various messages sometimes seemed a little wary. But once, long ago, he had been a polite and respectful artisan. His customers had liked him and valued his work. He had had good friends and been a respected man in the city. Time it seemed had changed him.

  “You sent for me for a reason?” Harl sat down at the table and called for an ale, wondering why two such important people had come to see him. And deciding that it was probably best to speak of other things than his character failings. But Dina Windstrider unexpectedly had other questions for him.

  “You were in Lion's Crest at the end?”

  “Yes.” He nodded though he was reluctant to talk about it. Her words had sent a chill down his back.

  “Tell me of that.”

  Harl didn't want to think about that day let alone talk about it. But he guessed that wasn't to be his choice. So slowly he began telling her of what he had seen and heard. What he had done. What he remembered.