Meta Gods War 3

by B N Miles

  He pushed forward as Key picked up the pace. They reached the leveling point and several of Cam’s guards rushed forward.

  “Retreat,” Cam said. “Gather as many men as you can. Find Arter, tell him to try and keep as many people together as possible.”

  “Yes, sir.” The guards ditched the flags beside the drums and began to head down the slope.

  Felin and Miuri didn’t move as Key approached. She lingered a few feet away and Cam stopped beside her. Felin and Miuri stared up at the sky, their expressions locked in a strange mask of fear and ecstasy. Cam followed their eyes and watched as the blurred forms of the goddesses continued their impossible fight, now higher and higher in the sky, almost lost in the roiling black clouds.

  “Look at that,” Key said, pointing down.

  Cam let out a soft breath.

  The field was torn to pieces. He could see a smattering of bodies, mostly wolf, but hundreds of Humans as well. Spears and shields were shoved into the dirt. The earth was torn up like a massive plough had been pulled through it. The tree line was torn to pieces, and jagged stumps stood in place of the previously massive pines.

  Cam had never seen such devastation before. He didn’t think it was possible. Even when he channeled as much magic as he could, he never got close to destroying so much land so thoroughly.

  His eyes moved back up to the sky, to the two clashing blurs. Another boom sent a chill down his spine.

  “They’re horrible,” Cam said.

  Key looked back at him. “What?”

  “They’re monsters,” he said. “Look at them. Look at what they can do.” He stepped forward, toward the field. “That’s so much power, Key. Even in my wildest dreams, I could never hope to do even half of that.”

  “They’re gods,” she said. “Of course they’re powerful.”

  “But they’re monsters.” Cam gripped his sword and shook his head. “How can the world survive things like that? If they start fighting each other, they’ll wipe us all out. And they’re not even trying. Lycanica could have leveled this army if she wanted to, but something held her back.”

  “I don’t think whatever held her back is an issue anymore,” Key said.

  Cam looked at her. “You’re right. And that scares me. It scares the hell out of me.”

  Key stared back at him, and he could see that she agreed.

  He looked back up at the sky, and in that moment, he knew what he had to do.

  The gods couldn’t survive this. They couldn’t be allowed to pull strings and fight their own petty battles. So many lives were lost, all because a single goddess decided to use her immeasurable power to force an entire species to go to war.

  “Lycanica made this happen,” Cam said, his voice soft. “You heard her, didn’t you?”

  Key stepped closer to him. “I know what you’re thinking. But she’s a goddess, Cam.”

  “She did this,” he said. “She made the wolves attack. It doesn’t matter if she’s a goddess, she’s still responsible. She caused so much death, so much pain. Not to mention all the slaves sent back for her own personal amusement. Remember, there were rumors about Human sacrifices?”

  “We don’t know if that was true.”

  “I think it was,” Cam said. “I think Lycanica is doing this for revenge, for something that happened a long time ago. I think she hates the Urspirit, and she’s going to do everything in her power to wipe us all out. She would’ve succeeded, if Danua hadn’t stepped in the way.”

  “We can’t fight the gods,” Key said.

  “I’m afraid we have no other choice. Lycanica could make all this happen on her own, so imagine if the gods worked together? Or if all the gods went to war with each other? The world couldn’t survive something like that. We couldn’t survive it, and I won’t let more people die because of them.”

  “They’re gods. We’re just… we’re just mortals.”

  Cam shook his head. “I held her back down there.”

  Key took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I know you did. But how long did that last?”

  “Not long,” Cam admitted. “But imagine if there were ten shaman just like me, all working together. Or if there were fifty… or a hundred. We could stand up to Lycanica. We could stand up to all the gods.”

  “Cam,” Key said, her voice a whisper.

  Cam turned to her, his eyes wide, his pulse racing so fast he thought he might choke. “We have to train more,” he said. “We have to be ready. We can’t ever let this happen again.”

  She took a step back from him. And for a moment, the fear in her eyes made him question his sanity.

  But he looked away, back to the goddesses fighting high up in the sky. A bright green flash made him squint and a boom rocked the hillside again.

  “We have to fight them,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else.

  The fighting kept going. He couldn’t follow their movements, but he thought Danua might be winning. Her green flashes were getting brighter, bolder, while Lycanica’s silver began to wane. The clouds thinned and sunlight poured in through their bodies as the two goddesses came together over and over again.

  Key moved over to Miuri and Felin. She whispered something to the girls, but Cam didn’t hear her. He was too busy staring into the sky, picturing the kind of power it would take to counter monsters like that.

  But soon the fighting slowed. Miuri and Felin seemed to wake, as if from a deep dream. Key gently led them away from the trees and further onto the hillside, toward where the flags lay with the discarded drums. Cam tore himself from the spectacle in the sky and found Miuri looking at him with a glazed-over expression.

  He walked to her and took her hand. She clutched it and blinked twice before her eyes focused on his.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I think so.”

  “What happened to you?”

  She shook her head. “When my goddess appeared…” She trailed off, as if she was grasping for words.

  “We can’t stop looking at them,” Felin said. “They’re like a flame and we’re just flying bugs. We’re drawn to them. It’s their power, but it’s more than that. They’re our mothers… we’re a piece of them, in some way.”

  Key draped her arm around Felin’s shoulder and hugged her close. “It’s okay. I think it’s almost over.”

  “It’s not,” Miuri said. “They can’t kill each other. Or maybe they won’t.”

  Cam bit back a curse. He took Miuri’s hand and pulled her toward him. “We need to join the army again,” he said. “We’ll regroup and find your father.”

  She nodded almost like nothing mattered. Her gaze returned to the goddesses in the sky like she couldn’t pull herself away.

  And just as soon as it started, it stopped.

  The wind picked up. Cam pulled Miuri against him and held her tightly as a gust nearly knocked them over. The wind ripped through them and bent the trees sideways. Branches cracked and Cam let loose a growl of fear and frustration. Key almost toppled, but Felin grabbed her and held her up.

  Cam looked into the sky again.

  The goddesses were gone. The clouds rolled aside and the sun shone brightly on the ravaged landscape.

  Slowly, the wind died down.

  “Is it over?” Cam asked.

  “Yes,” Miuri said. “She’s gone.”

  “My goddess is gone too,” Felin said. “I can feel it. There’s an absence. It’s like…”

  “It’s like I can breathe,” Miuri said.

  Felin nodded. “Like I can think again.”

  Cam hugged Miuri tight then let her go. “Come on,” he said. “We have to find the others. There will be wounded down there.”

  “So many dead,” Miuri said, her eyes moving to the devastation below. “So much destroyed, and for what?”

  “I don’t know,” Felin said. “I really don’t know.”

  Cam tugged Miuri along. Key and Felin followed.

  Together, they moved back down the
slope toward the camp. It was still chaos, but fewer men were running.

  He’d pull them together. They’d send scouts out to find what was left of the wolves and to contact the Elves. And they’d try to save as many lives as they could.

  Once that was all over, they’d burn their dead and send prayers to the Urspirit.

  But after this, nothing would be the same. Cam felt it deep within his body. The wolves might be stopped, but something changed today in the sky above the battlefield.

  Two goddesses fought each other.

  Cam knew it wouldn’t stop there.

  Power didn’t go back into a box once it was unleashed.

  41

  Cam walked across the shattered earth toward a tent pitched in the center of the broken field. The canvas fluttered in the breeze. Rocks tumbled from nearby clusters. The dirt smelled like blood, ash, and sweat.

  “Whose idea was this?” Cam asked.

  Miuri leaned against his shoulder. “My father’s,” she said. “It’s symbolic.”

  “Symbolic of what?”

  “Victory?” She shrugged. “I’m not sure. “He’s always going on about the importance of symbolism. Sometimes I think he takes himself too seriously.”

  “Hard to imagine what a person would be like after a few thousand years of life.”

  Miuri laughed. “I’ll let you know when I find out.”

  He smiled at her but felt no joy. The stones were loose beneath his boots as he neared the tent. Arter and Vorn stood outside, their backs straight, their spears on their shoulders. Cam nodded and the pair nodded back as he brushed aside the entry flap and stepped inside.

  The space was wide and dominated by a long table. The tent’s roof was peaked and open to the air. Sunlight spilled in, illuminating the old, pocked wood surface.

  Haesar sat at the far end of the table. Gwedi sat at his side. Key and Theus sat closer to Cam on the Human side of the table. Brice and Stavar sat across from them.

  Cam lingered for a moment in front of the chair at the head of his side of the table. But instead of taking it, he walked to the right and sat in a seat at the very center of the long structure. Miuri smiled at him and sat on his right, closer to Gwedi and her father. He took her hand and squeezed it.

  He figured Haesar would appreciate the symbolism of him sitting between the two camps.

  “Thank you for coming, Haesar,” Cam said.

  “Of course.” Haesar bowed his head. “Thank you for doing the dirty work.”

  Cam laughed. It was a strained laugh that bubbled up from his chest. His eyes flitted over to the Elf Lord and lingered on the wound across his cheek. It was deep and stitched together, and Cam could only imagine what it would do to his otherwise flawless beauty.

  He looked over at Key, at Theus, at Brice. They looked back at him with varying degrees of concern. Stavar sat with his back straight, his mouth shut, an annoyed expression on his face, although that was common for the man.

  “We need to discuss the prisoners,” Haesar said.

  “I know,” Cam said. “I kept hoping we’d put it off.”

  “There are too many to ignore,” Gwedi said. “Thousands of the wolves survived the battle. We have hundreds, but the rest roam the countryside.”

  “They’re no threat,” Key said. “They’re just loose bands. We’ll round them up, sooner or later.”

  “She’s right,” Brice said. “But that’s not what you’re worried about, is it?”

  Haesar smiled. “No, it isn’t,” he said. “I’m worried about what comes after we’ve rounded them all up. The wolves are a long way from home, and we can’t reliably send them back. I don’t trust them to return without looting and killing on the way.”

  “We can’t feed them here,” Stavar said. “Bunch of murderers. I say we take them out to the sea and—”

  “We’re not killing them,” Cam said.

  Stavar glared, grunted, and shook his head. But the man didn’t argue.

  “No, we aren’t killing them,” Haesar said. “But we must think of what we’re going to do with them. There are options, but I don’t think any will be palatable.”

  “We’ll consider what must be done. There are no easy solutions, as you said, but I think we can come up with something.”

  “Very good.”

  Cam leaned toward Haesar. “I need to know something, though, before I start thinking about the wolves.”

  Haesar made an approving gesture. “Whatever knowledge I can provide will be yours for the taking, shaman.”

  “Your goddess intervened. What happened? Why did she appear? Is Lycanica dead?”

  Haesar grimaced and Gwedi looked annoyed, but Cam didn’t back down. He leaned toward the Elf Lord, one hand on Miuri’s thigh.

  “Those aren’t easy questions to answer,” Haesar said. “I believe Lycanica is not dead, but I don’t know for sure. I don’t know why my goddess intervened. I don’t know what happened in the sky.”

  “I have a feeling that’s not entirely true,” Cam said. “You’re older than any of us. You have to know something.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out. “I know stories,” he said. “One story goes like this: a long time ago, the gods made a decision. They agreed among themselves that they would never do battle with each other. The cost would be too great and there would never be a clear-cut winner. They agreed not to intervene in worldly affairs, not to kill the children of another god, not to step too far into the light.”

  “You think Lycanica broke that agreement,” Cam said.

  “I believe so.” Haesar’s hands stroked the wood absently. “I believe the other gods looked the other way when Lycanica was simply marshalling her forces. They likely believed she could still be defeated. But as soon as she began taking matters into her own hands, that was stepping over a line.”

  “So, raiding our villages and invading our land wasn’t over the line, but killing us with lightning was?” Cam snorted and shook his head. “I don’t understand the gods.”

  “That’s the problem. Nobody does. They’re gods.” Haesar gave Cam a wan smile. “I believe my goddess won their battle yesterday. What that means for Lycanica, I cannot know. Danua did not appear to me, or to any of my people. She did not explain herself before or after. But the fact that we’re still here suggests she prevailed.”

  “Will she come back?” Key asked. “Do you think Lycanica will come again?”

  “I do not know,” Haesar said. “But I believe the gods will be more careful moving forward.”

  “I hope so,” Cam said. “Look around this place. If this is what they can do by accident while fighting each other, imagine what they could do if they concentrated on destroying us?”

  Heavy silence descended on the table. Cam stared around them and hoped they felt the same desperate anger that boiled deep inside him.

  He thought it was the Need. And yesterday, the Need was intense. But after satisfying himself with Miuri last night, the anger didn’t go away, it didn’t disappear like the Need always did.

  No, it only got stronger. That anger remained, burning deep in his gut.

  The image of the goddesses fighting in the sky, the earth being torn to pieces, of Brice getting knocked to the ground and nearly killed kept replaying over and over in his brain.

  He couldn’t get rid of it, no matter how hard he tried.

  “I do not think the gods think like that,” Haesar said. “They’re not interested in destroying us.”

  “Then why would Lycanica do all this?”

  Haesar made a vague gesture. “I don’t know,” he said. “Revenge, perhaps, for a wrong perpetrated a long, long time ago. Anger over the death of her children, rage that their immortality was taken away. I cannot say for certain, but her armies have been defeated, and we sit on the broken land, speaking of peace.”

  “Peace,” Cam said. “And how long is that supposed to last?” He shook his head and dug his fingers into the table. “So many dead. All for some god
dess’s thousand-year-old revenge. We’ve lost so much and gone through so much, and now that peace is here, I can’t imagine it ever lasting.”

  Key looked concerned, Theus looked angry. Stavar stared down at his hands.

  Miuri touched Cam’s hand. “Peace will last,” she said. “We’re already sitting down at the table. My father—”

  “Can’t promise the gods won’t attack again,” Cam said. He looked at Haesar. “Can you?”

  “No, I cannot,” he said. “I can only promise that my people will do everything in their power to stand with yours.”

  “And what if your goddess attacks next?” Cam asked.

  His mouth opened then shut. He shook his head. “That won’t happen.”

  Cam looked around the table. “We all know the real enemy here,” he said. “The gods themselves have more power over us than we can even begin to comprehend. Lycanica is still out there somewhere, biding her time, rebuilding her strength. And next time, we don’t know if Danua or any of the others will come to our rescue.”

  “What else can we do?” Gwedi asked. “There’s no fighting them. There’s no standing in their way. We are what we are and the gods will always be above us. We have to simply accept it and move on. Lord Haesar wants to ensure this partnership lasts beyond this crisis, and that’s the best we can do.”

  Cam nodded once and gestured assent. “I hear you. I’m only speaking the truth. We aren’t safe, and never will be, so long as the gods can use us as their playthings.”

  Another heavy silence. Cam knew his words were blasphemous, maybe even evil. He knew that most people would be horrified to hear him speak this way.

  But most people hadn’t seen the goddesses fighting in the sky.

  “I understand your concern,” Haesar said after a long pause. “We will not forget this day, Camrus. I promise you that. The Elves have very long memories.”

  Cam only nodded his head, too angry to speak.

  “For now, we need to talk logistics,” Key said, taking over for Cam. “How many prisoners we’ll keep, what we’ll do with them, how we’ll supply the army for the march back. And what we will do from here on out.”