[Age of the Five 03] - Voice of the Gods

by Trudi Canavan

  :I’d like to see it, but I think it would be too dangerous. Though I’m free to come and go from the Sanctuary, I don’t know where we could meet safely and I’m certain they have someone following me when I do go out.

  :The Twins probably wouldn’t like it. Not only would we risk the Voices finding us, and then taking and destroying the diamond, but the last thing we need is the Pentadrians blackmailing me into joining them, too.

  :No, Mirar agreed. The Circlian gods would just love that. According to Auraya, they’ve been hanging around the Sanctuary quite a bit.

  :The Pentadrian gods don’t chase them off?

  :She hasn’t said anything about sensing them.

  :That’s odd. Maybe they fear the Circlian gods.

  :Maybe they are so different in nature that Auraya can’t sense them, Mirar suggested.

  :Maybe they know she can overhear gods, and are avoiding her. I guess we’ll never know.

  :Not unless they decide to tell us.

  :I can’t see that happening any time soon. Any other news?

  :No.

  :Good luck, then. I will let you know when I’ve reached Northern Ithania.

  :Good luck.

  Her mind faded from his senses. Fighting off a niggling weariness, he embarked on his last task for the night: sending his mind out to skim the thoughts of the people around him.

  41

  Three days had passed and Nekaun had not returned. The domestics continued their routine of dousing Auraya with cold water and feeding her the grainy sludge. The cold water left her shivering and she almost wished they would leave her grimy. It was bad enough that she was cold all the time, but the chill that came after her dousing seemed to drain all strength from her.

  She craved real food and sometimes found herself dreaming about it. When she skimmed the minds of people eating, her own body ached for sustenance. She longed to lie down. Her arms hurt. Her legs sometimes cramped painfully despite her efforts to flex and stretch them. Most of the time she was so tired she slumped against the wall.

  Exploring the minds of the world kept her consciousness away from cold, hunger and pain. Through other people she saw the sun rise and set, felt happiness, love and contentment. She began to avoid the minds of those in pain or misery. The thoughts of those preparing for war no longer seemed so important to watch.

  What difference does it make if I know what they’re planning? I can’t do anything to stop them. I can’t even reach the White and tell them what I’ve learned. Danjin doesn’t trust me. Chaia…

  Chaia had saved her. But questions had been forming in the back of her mind. If Chaia could impersonate another god, then could other gods do so too? Could Pentadrian gods impersonate Circlian ones? That must be why he had given her the code word “shadow.”

  But thinking about Chaia’s visit was too close to thinking about what Nekaun had been about to do to her, so she turned her mind away.

  Which did not work all of the time. Sometimes something would jolt her back into a memory of smothering black robes and exploring, unwanted hands. Her skin crawled and her heart raced.

  She hated that she had been so affected by the incident. It’s this weariness making me feel so weak, she told herself. If I were stronger I would feel less affected. She grimaced. If Chaia hadn’t interrupted I’d be in an even worse state.

  “Auraya.”

  For a moment she thought the voice was a memory, but when it repeated her name she opened her eyes and found herself staring at a glowing figure. The Pentadrian god, Sheyr, smiled at her.

  “Come out of the shadows, Auraya,” he said.

  “Chaia,” she breathed.

  “Yes.”

  Remembering the Servant that had been revealed when he had vanished last time, she looked closer.

  “Who is…?”

  “Another loyal mortal,” he replied. “He will not remember this conversation. He has put aside his will for me.”

  “For Sheyr.”

  He shrugged. “Some mortals are easily deceived.”

  She glanced at the Servant guards. The pair were watching intently, their expressions awed. They must have opened the gate to allow the god-possessed man into the room.

  “But what of the Pentadrian gods?” she asked.

  Chaia’s smile widened. “I have ensured their attention is elsewhere.”

  “They must know you deceived Nekaun. Will they counter your orders?” Will Nekaun come back to finish what he started?

  The god shook his head. “To do so would reveal they can be impersonated.”

  She let out a sigh of relief, then frowned. “Are you here to release me?”

  “I cannot. If this mortal enters the void I can no longer possess him.”

  “But you could order him to release me.”

  He shook his head again. “I cannot interfere, and I cannot explain why I cannot interfere.” His lips twisted into a crooked smile. “You already know we gods have agreements to keep.”

  She felt a sudden flash of insight. “Huan wants me to stay here.”

  “Not exactly.”

  Auraya narrowed her eyes at him. “Ah. I see. She wants me dead. This is a compromise?”

  “Leaving you here is, for the moment.”

  “So you all want me out of the way.”

  “Yes.

  “I’m surprised you don’t want my help in this war.”

  He frowned. “How did you learn about the war?”

  A chill ran over her skin. He still doesn’t know about my mind-reading.

  “I think Nekaun told me. You didn’t want me to know about it?” she countered.

  “I came here to tell you.” He looked away, his expression thoughtful, then took a step closer and smiled. “I love you still, Auraya. I will do what I can to get you out of here. Then…in return I want you to promise me you will stay out of the conflicts of this world—even those of the Siyee. Keep yourself apart from it, or Huan will find an excuse and a way to kill you. I…” His gaze slid from hers to a place to his left and he scowled. “I must go.”

  Auraya caught the presence of another god before it flashed away. The figure of Sheyr vanished. In his place stood a Servant barely past boyhood. The young man glanced around the room, then his eyes snapped to Auraya. His gaze dropped and he turned a bright red.

  A voice called from the gate. The youth spun around and, seeing the Servants guarding it, hurried toward them. One of the guards patted him on the back. He stayed a short while, talking to them excitedly of his experience, then hurried away.

  Auraya sighed and leaned against the throne base. Chaia may love me, she thought tiredly. But not enough to defy Huan and free me. How much of recent events had been arranged by the gods? Had they ordered for her to be imprisoned to keep her out of the way?

  She thought of Nekaun’s reaction to Chaia/Sheyr’s orders: “But…”

  But what? Had he been ordered to rape her? By a god?

  She shivered. It was impossible to know, and she was beginning to feel uneasy again. Closing her eyes, she sent her mind out in search of a distraction.

  Standing at the stern of the boat, Emerahl watched as the city of Glymma slowly shrank to a line of lights in the distance. She felt relieved and disappointed. The last few days had been full of tedious delays. After buying a ride on a reed boat down the river to the city, and selling a bracelet to a collector The Twins had recommended, she had discovered Glymma’s wharves were full of Servants anxious to know who was arriving and leaving their city. It took several bribes and a few veiled threats in order to find herself a captain willing to take her across the Gulf of Fire to Diamyane.

  Now that she was leaving she felt a wry disappointment that she’d had no chance to explore the city. Looking back at the glittering lights, she also felt a niggling guilt. Somewhere under the sprawling Sanctuary was Auraya, trapped in a void.

  If I could free her, Mirar wouldn’t have to risk his life trying to. She shook her head. But if he can’t manage it, I dou
bt I could.

  She had come to respect Auraya during the weeks she’d spent teaching the former White. She had even liked her a little. I hope the Pentadrians aren’t treating her too badly. She snorted quietly at the thought. Of course they were treating her badly. She was their enemy. She’d killed their former leader. They’ll be making her suffer in as many ways as they can make a woman suffer. This is a war, after all.

  She shook her head, sighed and turned away. That doesn’t stop me hoping she won’t lose any of that spirit and optimism she had before. Or wishing I could help her—without putting myself at risk of ending up in her position, or dead. The two lamps of the boat cast shadows of the masts across the deck. She, too, cast a pair of shadows, and where they crossed they formed a comically skinny silhouette of herself. She smiled at it, then at herself for noticing at all. Staring at the shapes the diamond cast for days had made her all too aware of shadows. At least the diamond needed only one light source to work…

  She caught her breath. Or did it?

  What would happen if she used two, or three, or several? Suddenly the glyphs on the sides of the pendant had a possible new meaning. And the diagram…

  One light / one key

  The diagram could be seen with one light, and it was the key to the rest.

  Two lights / two truths

  It was so simple! Two lights might make the shadows overlap in a way that created different shapes. Possibly even glyphs.

  She cast about. The ship was a simple merchant vessel. Its wide hull was used to carry cargo, not passengers. All the crew were on deck. They didn’t sleep at sea as the journey across the Gulf could be made in a night or a day. She doubted they went below except to check the cargo or take up food or fresh water.

  There was a way she could go below and ensure she would not be disturbed. Moving to the captain’s side, she waited until he turned to look at her.

  “I need a little private time,” she said to him, smiling wryly. “Is below decks suitable?”

  He nodded once. “I’ll make sure no one goes below. There’s a pot down there.”

  “Thank you.”

  He gestured to the hatch. A few of the crew nodded to her as she passed them. She nodded back, sensing that curiosity had replaced anxiety over her presence now that they had left Glymma. The story she had told the captain was that her husband had come to Glymma a few months before, hoping to find a trading partner. He had left her behind while he returned to settle business in Sennon. The war had prevented him returning for her so she had to flee on her own.

  Reaching the hatch, she climbed down a ladder into the dark. She created a spark of light and looked for the pot. The captain might suspect she’d been stealing or snooping through their goods if she didn’t use it. She found it not far from where they had stowed the travel chest she had bought for the treasure.

  Taking a length of string from her pack, she tied it to hooks for securing goods on either side of the hull then folded her shawl over it. If someone did come below they would assume she had hung it up for privacy.

  Checking that the pot was clean, she turned it upside down, sat on it and drew the pendant out from beneath her clothes.

  It was not easy holding the diamond steady in a rocking ship. Eventually she used magic to suspend it in the air. Creating a spark, she moved it within the diamond and turned it so that the “key” face cast shadows onto her shawl.

  Examining the diagram she felt a thrill of excitement. One dotted line crossed one side of the octagon, two the next, three the following and four the last. The numbers might relate to angles. She wouldn’t be sure until she tried.

  Turning the pendant so the two lights / two truths side faced the shawl, she introduced another light. She moved the two lights around in the center of the diamond. As they drew further apart she saw the shadows on the shawl passing each other. Suddenly she glimpsed recognizable glyphs. She halted the movement of the sparks and drew them a little closer again.

  There! That’s it!

  Normal Sorli glyphs covered her shawl. Whispering a cheer of triumph, she began to read.

  When Surim had first come to the swamp he had thought it an ugly, smelly place. After a few thousand years of living in luxury, the muddy, constantly damp, wild surroundings had seemed like a place out of his worst nightmare.

  But as he had learned to live there he had grown to appreciate its beauty. So much life, he thought as he guided the boat through the water. All this variety in plant, animal and insect, all in one unique place. The local people appreciated this to a point. They adapted their lives to fit the swamp as much as they adapted the swamp to fit their lives. Outsiders did not understand it—did not try to understand it. They cut down the trees, dredged out deeper, wider rivers and tried to drain the waterlogged land.

  The swamp was beautiful during the day, but eerie at night. Without his light to illuminate the way, Surim would have been lost in utter darkness. He ducked under a web stretched across the river, then turned back and saluted the enormous spider waiting in the middle.

  “Have a care where you weave your webs or you will be my dinner,” he told the spider. Turning back, he looked up at the rock wall ahead. Guiding his boat along this, he listened to the sounds of the swamp. Each chirrup, buzz and cry brought its owner to his mind’s eye. A rainbow flier buzzed past his ear. A distant honk of a randy swamp bogger was answered from somewhere close by.

  Guiding the boat around a bend in the river, he steered it toward dark holes in the base of the rock wall. As it drifted inside, the shadows appeared to shrink away from his light.

  “Flee, shadows!” he whispered. “Flee as fast as you can!”

  The boat emerged into a cavern. Another light and a figure drew him toward the far side. Tamun’s arms were crossed.

  “You’re late.”

  “Am I?” He smiled. “I didn’t know I was supposed to be anywhere at any particular time.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. You usually return before dark.”

  “I do,” he agreed. “It was an unusual night. Or the usual unusual night.” He guided the boat up to the ledge and rose. “How many times does it have to be unusual for it to be a usual unusual night?”

  She sniffed. “A lot less than the number of times you’ve asked such ridiculous questions. Hurry up. Emerahl has deciphered the secrets.” Turning away, she walked through the ledge into the caves.

  A rush of excitement went through Surim. He leapt out of the boat and quickly tied it up, then hurried after her.

  Gods were notoriously unwilling to discuss their own limitations, to mortals or immortals. When he and Tamun had seen hints that there might be a scroll full of secrets of a dead god somewhere in Southern Ithania the knowledge had been painfully tantalizing. He had considered leaving the cave to seek it himself. It was almost worth the risk he might be discovered by the gods. Almost. What had stopped him wasn’t the thought that the gods might notice him and arrange for him to be killed, but that Tamun would be left alone for so long. For the first time in two millennia. He liked to think he could survive without her. Of them both, he had changed the most in the last century. He didn’t want to risk that she couldn’t survive without him.

  Our strength is our weakness. Our weakness our strength. Separating our bodies was hard enough to accept. Death is unimaginable.

  Then Emerahl had come along and happily taken up the Quest for the Scroll of the Gods. Tamun thought she had taken too great a risk in leaving the Thinkers and gambling that the secrets were among the treasure. Surim didn’t care. Only someone willing to take a few risks would have undertaken the search in the first place. And Emerahl had been right.

  He followed Tamun up to their favorite cave. They both lay down in the nest of cushions Tamun had made. He heard her take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Closing his eyes, he slipped effortlessly into the link trance and entwined his mind with Tamun’s.

  :Emerahl? they called.

 
; :Tamun. Surim. At last.

  :Greetings, Surim, another voice said.

  Surim felt a mild surprise.

  :Gull?

  :Yes. It is I.

  :I thought he might want to hear what she has to say, Tamun explained. And The Gull agreed that it was time Mirar knew of his existence.

  :And I am still getting over the surprise, Mirar added.

  :Save that for later, Emerahl said. I have worked out how to see the glyphs within the pendant.

  As she described her discovery Surim felt a wry amusement.

  :It is so simple, Emerahl finished. I can’t believe I didn’t see it at first.

  :Most puzzles are simple once you know the answer, Surim told her. So what do the glyphs say?

  :I started with the side marked “two lights / two truths.” The glyphs read: “All gods were born mortal. They learned to become immortal first. They learned how to become gods last.” There is a gap, then: “All gods love/hate/need as mortals do. All gods need mortals to see/connect/change the world.”

  The five immortals remained silent. As the silence lengthened Surim began to wonder if they were still linked.

  :That explains a few things, he said, when he couldn’t stand it any longer.

  :Indeed it does, The Gull agreed.

  :So the gods were immortals, Mirar mused. Does that mean we could become gods? That would explain why they fear us so much.

  :They fear we will discover how to become gods, Surim agreed.

  :Though would we want to? The Gull asked quietly. It says the gods feel human emotions, yet need mortals in order to affect the world.

  :To feel desires, but not be able to satisfy them, Mirar said. No wonder the gods have no sense of humor.

  :Does the pendant explain how to become a god, Emerahl? Tamun asked.

  :No, she replied.

  :So you have read the other sides?

  :Yes.

  :Tell us what it says.

  :Three lights gives us three secrets, Emerahl told them. They are: “No god can be in two places at one time. No god can exist where there is no magic. No god collects and preserves souls of mortal dead.”