God Wars Box Set Edition: A Dark Fantasy Trilogy

by Mark Eller

  “The hell I can’t!” Argo shouted, leaping after the fool. Clenching the book tight, Rab ran around the table, Argo hobbling hot on his heels. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. That book’s no good for you. None of them are. It’s danger, son, Danger enough to damn a man’s soul.”

  “Uncle Radno didn’t have no problems,” Rab panted. “It made him rich and strong. Look at you! All stove up and slow while Uncle Radno looked to be only a middle-aged man when I saw him a couple years back.”

  “Your Uncle Radno’s a dead man!” Argo shouted, still hobbling. “He’s dead, and his soul’s no better than a pot of poisoned soup because of what’s in that book. Give it here, boy. You give it here and we won’t have no problems, and trouble’s just what you’ll have with the book. The likes of you can’t understand a thing of what’s in there.”

  “ENOUGH!” Stepping into the fray, Parla pressed a hand against Argo’s chest. “I’ve heard you put my boy down for the last time, Argo Hornblaster. There’s more to Rab than you ever knew or even suspected. He’s smart and talented and has more heart than you ever thought.”

  Surprised, Argo looked down at Parla’s hand and then back to her face. Her normally soft and kind features were now twisted in anger and fear. The anger he understood, but why fear?

  Suddenly, the hair on Argo’s body stood on end as air sizzled with a strange popping sound. Jerking his eyes off Parla, he shifted them to Rab.

  “Holy Shit, Seven Gods and two,” he cursed while his heart seemed to seize. Why in the name of Trelsar had the lad removed his clothes, and what was—

  Time slowed as he watched his nephew’s features transform. Bones shifted beneath the boy’s face, making it flatter, his forehead wider. Ginger colored hair sprouted all over his face and chest. Leg and arm muscles bunched and bulged, making him bulkier, his frame taller, splitting his clothes. A loud ripping noise precluded a long, bushy tail sprouting from the boy’s rear, and his ears became elongated and pointy.

  The room went silent until the last bit of transformation finished. Even then, Argo remained as frozen as his thoughts. Nothing wanted to move— not his mouth— not his feet; he couldn’t even manage an eye twitch, but he did feel a moment of gratitude about the boy’s pizzor being entirely covered by fur.

  The silence stretched on and on until it became almost painful. Shifting nervously, Rab looked imploringly at his mother, seeming to break the flood waters. Words poured fast from Parla, like water from a broken tea pot.

  “First let me say I’m sorry Rab and I kept this from ya’.” Taking a deep breath, she stared Argo in the face; her own features appeared forlorn and somehow younger, almost as if a huge weight had finally been lifted from her. “I know how you feel about magic and how upset you was when my Marlo run off so I hid much of the truth from ya’.” Reaching down, she carefully righted the chair and gingerly sat in it. She motioned to Argo and Rab. “You might as well sit down, too. It beats standing there with your mouths hanging open.”

  Nodding, Argo found a chair while Rab did the same. They stared across the table from one another, awkward. Their feet, or in Rab’s instance, paws, scuffled nervously on the floor. Rab didn’t seem to know what to do with his tail.

  When Parla cleared her throat, both men jumped. Parla winced. “Sorry…sorry.” After looking down for a moment, Parla drew in a shaky breath, closed her eyes, and then opened them again. She studied Rab for a moment before turning her gaze to Argo. Nervous love peered forth. “We’re all family here. Argo, from what Marlo tole me…what Rab can do…is what a good number of our kin can do. Not all of us, but it’s there, regardless, waiting to come out. More so in some than in others. Our branch of the family, only a little bit. Marlo’s side has it a lot stronger.”

  Argo opened his mouth, but Parla held up a delicate, long fingered hand, stopping him. Glancing back and forth between the two, it suddenly struck him how much Rab normally looked like his mother. Lean, lithe…and graceful, just like a cat. His belly’s nervous twitch made the small bit of bread he had choked down want to come back up.

  Parla winced and dropped her gaze, folding her hands back in front of her. “It’s not a deformity Argo,” she said to the tabletop. “My boy’s not a freak and neither was his father. Marlo was a good man, a strong man, but he couldn’t live in our world. I tried to help him, tried to use our family’s magic to change him into a whole person but…it wasn’t a freak of magic what made him that way. It was just…nature. Actually…it’s just a natural part of who many of us in the area really are.” She sighed so deep it seemed to come from the bottom of her soul. “In the end, he couldn’t deny who he was and couldn’t stand the thought of anyone thinking poorly of him or his wife and child. So he did the only thing he could. He went deep into the mountains, Argo, went back to his clan. And I let him go.” The last was said with a sad whisper.

  Those beautiful hazel eyes he loved looking into each day, those eyes which normally held so much love and understanding, misted up. A small tear slid from one corner. Argo blinked back his own tears, unable to stand seeing his sister in pain. Fifteen years ago he had scooped her and Rab up from their little run down cabin. He had thought his heart wouldn’t recover from seeing her sad loneliness. It was the same look she now wore, a look he thought her years in Greenswale had taken away. Some wounds, he guessed, never really healed. A person just learned to live with them, learned to hide them from the ones they love.

  “Marlo’s family is kind of like ours,” Parla continued, “only more so. Most of them can change and transform at will. Some, like my Marlo, never learned much in the way of control. Our side of the family, well Marlo and Radno explained that some of us can manipulate the change in others, even in people without the talent.” Parla chuckled softly, “Well, Radno, not so much or so well. He tended to botch things.”

  A soft mewling sounded near Argo’s feet. The long haired cinnamon cat, Simta, gently leapt onto the table and walked over to Rab. She rubbed her nose against his in greeting, and then curled up in front of him into a furry ball. Luminous green eyes peered at him, eyes which seemed to look…human.

  Reaching a half hand, half paw up, Rab stroked Simta slow and gentle, and flicked his eyes to his uncle. A bit of courage seemed to steal over him because he didn’t lower his gaze when their eyes met. Sudden images flashed in Argo’s head, images of not long ago. A little boy, lost and afraid, coming to the big farmhouse and finding every hidden nook and cranny an exciting discovery. Laughter, joy, a certain curiosity, had come with him, filling the house with life that had stopped existing for Argo when his wife disappeared. No. Rab wasn’t a freak. He would never be that. Not to Argo. If anything, Rab was his son, his pride and joy. He and Parla were the two greatest gifts ever given to Argo and damned if he was gunna throw them away. Furry or not, he wouldn’t let no one mistreat his sister and her boy, and damned if he would allow himself to do so either… outside of a little necessary discipline.

  “Parla,” he whispered, hating the tremble in his voice. “I’m sorry. I wish you could have told me this before, but I understand why you didn’t. Just know that I love you and the boy dearly. You’re my family. I know, I know,” he held up his hand to silence any words, “I’ve been hard on Rab and always hated what Radno had become, but I love ‘em both even if Radno was a bad man. He was still my brother, and he always looked out for me when we were growing up. I’ve been angry with Radno for a long time because of him going away from the light of the Seven and embracing the Two. Even so, he knew I loved him Parla. He knew.”

  A snuffling echoed in the kitchen and they all turned to see the Persian holding a paw over its face. The fur around its nose and mouth was wet. “I miss my family,” it said. “I only want to be human again. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was never bad. Not very bad, anyway.”

  Sighing, Argo looked back to Rab. “So, these cats really were human once?”

  Rab nodded. “Yes Uncle, and for the first time e
ver I think I know what causes magic to happen.. According to the histories and notes Uncle Radno made, things callednanos are inside just about everything, and they can be manipulated by some people. Not by many. Most don’t have any ability at all. A few, like me and Uncle Radno can do some small stuff. Others can do a lot more.”

  “Others?” Argo asked.

  “Others,” Rab said. “We ain’t freaks, Uncle, or cursed. We’re just people who can touch a bit of the nano. In some ways, we’re like tiny gods. It isn’t magic. It’s just a part of who we are.”

  Huh? Argo felt lost and confused. Magic wasn’t magic? “You’re saying people like you and Radno are ‘god’ touched.”

  Rab shook his head, flapping his furry ears. “No, no. I think that’s a myth too…the gods. Well, not a myth, but more of a lie. Wait Uncle Argo, please, just read the books before you pass judgment or burn me at the wood pile for heresy.”

  Mouth twitching, Argo, tried to remain calm. Things were too strange for him right now. Getting upset all over again would only make his head hurt worse, and his heart would probably burst from the annoyance. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to focus on one thing at a time.

  “Let’s start with the cats. Can they be changed back into people?”

  Placing the book back on the table, Rab opened it to a page he had marked with a bit of yarn. “Well, I’m not sure, but I think I can change ‘em back. I doubt Uncle Radno’s abilities were as strong as mine will be because he comes from the weaker branch of the family, and to be honest, you were right Uncle. From what I’ve read in here, he was a bit of a screw up when it comes to magic.”

  Argo shook his head. Screw up was a kind way of putting it. To his way of thinking, love his brother as he did, Radno had been an idiot and a monster. Greed and the need for power had driven him into areas no man should travel. Those traits, along with his dark nature, had earned him an early booting from home. “I won’t disagree, boy. I loved him, but the gods save anyone who got in his way.”

  The fluffy Persian stood and walked over to Argo, then curled up next to him. Annoyance almost screamed from its slitted eyes. “Look, none of us want to take up space in your home,” it said. “We just want back what was ours to begin with; our humanity. I’m Ondar by the way. Ondar Ironshod, I was the blacksmith’s son who worked on Radno’s laboratory, making some of the iron and steel fittings for equipment he invented. I snuck in one night to just take a look around when Radno caught me and decided to see if I had these ‘nano’ things. He said I was his best experiment. You might have noticed I talk better than any of the others.”

  “I noticed,” Rab said. “It’s irritating. Anyway, according to Uncle Radno’s notes, he did one hundred and fifty four transformation experiments on people. Fifty three were successful.”

  “Why are there only ten cats here?” Argo wondered aloud. If so many had been changed, where were the rest?

  Shrinking down on the table, Ondar looked at Argo sadly. “Those who didn’t make the change successfully were given to hellkind as slaves if they didn’t die in the process. Many of those who were successfully changed now spy for Zorce and Athos. We were his latest changes. None of us had been given a duty yet.”

  Argo shook his head. Of late, everywhere he turned there seemed to be news of hellkind closing in; of plots and deceptions, foulness and decay. If something wasn’t done soon it wouldn’t be long before Hell came looking in Argo’s little piece of the world. He chuckled at the thought. Who was he kidding? Hell and its machinations were sitting at his table right now.

  Both Parla and Rab watched Argo as if he had lost his mind. Argo supposed in a way he had. Or at least his nattered old brained felt that way.

  “Uncle, let me read the rest of the books,” Rab pleaded. “Give me a chance…please. I deserve that much, don’t I?” The boy’s eyes became large and luminous, his face pitiful and pleading. His newly sprouted cat ears drooped, and he turned his head a bit to the side.

  “Boy,” Argo shook his head slowly, “you read them books. But you better read ‘em good ‘cause if you mess up,” he paused and looked sadly at the two cats, “you’ll only make a bad situation worse. These poor creatures don’t need another of our family messing them up.”

  The Persian mewled and laid its head on its paws. Simta gave an audible sigh and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

  “Uncle,” Rab hesitated, his ears flicking back and forth. He touched the book. “You really need to read this here, too. I’m almost done with it. It’s a history of our family and other’s like ours, and it gives a different history than what we were told by the priests. I know you have deep faith in Trelsar but,” he licked at his whiskers with a long and rough tongue, “I think you need to read about him and the other…gods.”

  Argo groaned. As if life weren’t hard enough, things just kept getting dumped into his lap until he was sure it would overflow and spill onto the floor. The chair once more raked across the floor as he scooted back, making Argo’s head pound a bit more. “I got chores to do boy. You read on. I’ll be back before sundown.”

  The kitchen remained silent as Argo shuffled outside to go split wood and wonder what casualties would ensue when this was all said and done. His mind whirled in all kinds of directions as he worked, so much so that when a biggish fellow unexpectedly rounded the woodpile Argo almost put his ax blade in the center of the man’s skull out of sheer surprise.

  “S-sorry,” Argo stuttered, still holding the blade aloft, and then he froze, staring long and hard at the man while he stared back. Eventually, Argo lowered his ax, feeling foolish for standing there so long with it raised over his head while not saying a word.

  “Marlo,” he finally said. “Long time no see.”

  “It’s been a while,” Marlo said. “You look older.”

  “You look the no different,” Argo said, “same as Radno refused to age once he got to middle age. Are you into dark dealings like he was?”

  Marlo shook his head. “No. I’ve just been running the woods, sort of going wild while figuring out how to control my body, but things are under control now, and I’ve a feeling I’m needed here. Do you…can I see my wife and son? Are they here?”

  “They are,” Argo told him, wondering if he should maybe have continued with his ax stroke and cut Marlo’s head off before he had time to cause more trouble for the family. “It’s up to them if they want to see you or not. You might as well go inside and ask.”

  * * * *

  Three weeks later they all stood inside the barn, Marlo, Parla, Rab, and Argo, freezing their asses off, while listening to several arvids grunt and groan as they complained about being put outside in a near blizzard less than a week after a take off your shirt ‘cause it’s a freaking sweltering hot day. Being put outside was for the beasts’ own protection. Though small for a barn, it was plenty big enough to hold Argo’s arvids along with a small handful of people, but Argo doubted the animals were smart enough to stay out of Rab’s way while he attempted to do something stupidly dangerous to the black cat. The other cats were in the farmhouse, locked away and oblivious of the experiment. Both Argo and Marlo deliberately arranged things that way, Argo for personal reasons while Marlo wanted to lessen the chances of Rab becoming distracted by a bunch of anxious cats looking on.

  Marlo.

  How Marlo had arrived just when he was needed remained a mystery to Argo. When he asked his brother-in-law how he had known, the big man simply shrugged and mumbled something about mysterious ways and gods and who was he to question dreams.

  Argo watched Parla and Marlo, unbelieving and yet pleased at how happy they appeared. A small pain entered Argo’s chest, making his eyes want to tear up. By the Seven, they looked perfect together, almost as if Marlo had never left. A bit of jealousy stirred, but Argo fought it down. Most likely Marlo would take Argo’s family away with him, but younger people couldn’t live their lives according to Argo’s wants. The once empty house would be empty again, h
olding no life, no laughter, just a beat up farmer with no humor left in him.

  Argo turned away from the tableau. “Boy, what’s taking so long? If we stay out here any longer I’ll freeze my marbles off.”

  Just then a chill ran through his body. The air began to pop and sizzle.

  With quick steps, Parla, Marlo, and Argo, all moved to the barn’s open door. Argo didn’t know about the others, but he wouldn’t risk getting caught up in whatever Rab was doing. The boy had studied Radno’s books nonstop night and day before declaring himself ready to give matters a try. Until now, the results had been less than spectacular, but things finally seemed to be popping along.

  Looking into the building from the open barn door, Argo winced when Rab set his hands on the small black cat. Grimacing, Argo prayed hard to Trelsar, prayed things would go as intended. He even threw in a prayer to Anothosia and Omitan for good measure. After all, the times Rab had screwed up the simplest tasks didn’t give him a load of confidence in the boy. It sometimes seemed each fiasco had to be larger than the last or Rab wouldn’t be happy with the results. Watching the cat’s steady gaze rise to meet Rab's, Argo found himself hoping the lad didn’t blow the poor thing up. Killing a cat was one thing. Killing a cat-person was something else entirely.

  “You can do it boy. I have faith in you.” Marlo encouraged from beside Argo, his voice strong and deep. “Remember what you’ve read, and don’t forget anything I’ve taught you these last few days.”

  Argo shook his head, still dumbfounded by the fact Marlo appeared to be almost as young as the day he married Parla. It bothered Argo a bit that Marlo hadn’t seemed to age when Parla carried every one of her years, but from what he read in the histories, extended youth was part of what the nanos could do if a person’s body had enough of ‘em in it and a fellow understood how to use the things.