When the Goddess Wakes

by Howard Andrew Jones

  “I don’t think that matters. You’re a mage. You can tell how quickly the problem is growing.”

  She hated to think what that might mean, and hated to tell him. “But I don’t know how much more your body can endure before you’re so badly hurt that you’re…”

  “Fully incapacitated?”

  “Yes. And I don’t know how much faster it’s going to get.”

  Somehow, he remained calm. “Just tell me how much it’s changed in the last hours.”

  “The change isn’t large. But if it continues at this rate I think you may be in danger as early as tomorrow. I wish there was something more I could do, for you, or for all of us.” Her hands tightened on the stone windowsill. She glanced over her shoulder at the open door behind them, then to either side, then spoke quietly. “I’m working my way into Cerai’s trust.”

  “That’s a dangerous game,” he replied softly, without looking at her. “She’s very perceptive.”

  “She thrives on the attention,” Tesra said. “It leaves an opening.”

  He looked at her shrewdly. Tesra had the sense his own estimation of her had risen.

  “Nevertheless. Act with care.”

  Tesra spoke rapidly, but softly. “She means to make herself and a few chosen servants virtual gods. She’s structured the energy matrices here to funnel that power so that when she destroys the Goddess her energy will be controlled, just as she needs. Stored, so she can tap it whenever she wants. And she herself may be very hard to take down.”

  He accepted this information with a single nod.

  “You know,” she said, astonished. How could he? But then she remembered how she herself had begun to sense the way power flowed in Cerai’s realm. Thelar or M’vai might have studied and deduced something odd about it, and told him.

  “What are you going to do?” Tesra asked.

  “Let’s just say that I am preparing to meet these challenges.”

  Tesra translated that to mean he had some kind of plan, but wasn’t willing to share it, probably because he didn’t trust her.

  And then he offered one of his rare smiles. “It’s brave of you,” he said. “But I want you to understand that she’ll be vicious if crossed. More vicious than you may know.”

  She looked out at the squires. “I swore I’d start making my own, better choices. And after failing so badly, I owe it to everyone else to take some risks, if there’s a chance it will help.”

  He put a hand to her upper arm. “You give me hope.” He turned. “I’ve something to see to. Thank you.” He left her.

  Tesra gave him his privacy rather than following his every move, and watched as the sun dropped behind the outer wall. She debated with herself about how deeply to play along with Cerai’s aims. Was it even useful to do so, if N’lahr had deduced her plans?

  Yes, she decided, because with Cerai’s confidence, she’d understand those plans in greater detail.

  Alerted by another of the poorly rendered horn calls, Tesra headed quickly to the outer wall, in time to see Cerai ride back with the rest of the mages. Most sagged in their saddles.

  They’d worked a final change upon their return: both roads the Goddess had left behind had vanished utterly. Where white stone had stretched away, grass flourished once more.

  But what difference could that make, in the long run, if the Goddess had effected those changes in moments without any obvious effort, and correcting it had exhausted every one of these mages?

  Tesra took the stairs down to meet them. Cerai was already out of saddle and talking earnestly with N’lahr and two of her soldiers, one of whom held her horse.

  As the aspirants swung stiffly out of the saddles, M’vai exhorted them to eat, then to get right to sleep. “Tired spell casters make mistakes,” she reminded them.

  The two women and one man filed past Tesra with brief nods of greeting, trailing the smell of horse and their own sweat. M’vai stopped before Tesra and pushed slick hair from her forehead. “I just caught a look at N’lahr. He’s worse.”

  “I don’t think he’s going to be safe much longer. How did the repairs go?”

  M’vai’s mouth twitched. She looked at Tesra as if doubting her for a moment. “The realm’s been strengthened. Aren’t you worried about the commander?”

  “Of course I am.”

  M’vai looked over her shoulder toward Cerai and N’lahr, then turned back to Tesra, peering closely at her. “Come with me,” she said.

  M’vai hurried inside, walking farther from the mess hall, no matter the entrancing aroma of fresh baked bread. It was one of the few foodstuffs Cerai’s kitchen staff had really mastered.

  Soon they were standing in one of the strange storerooms arranged with thousands of creatures held in magical suspension, this one featuring creatures from Kanesh. M’vai stepped into the shadow of one of the great predators of the plains, the terrible birds known as ax-beaks. Tesra had never seen a living one in Kanesh, but knew the cunning flightless birds were capable of great speed and could outrun horses for brief periods.

  M’vai barely gave the monster a second glance. “N’lahr’s going to die, soon. And regardless of what you think, you have to know that he’s a good leader, and that our people are stronger with him.”

  “Of course I know that. What did you think—”

  M’vai cut her off. “We have to try to save him. He didn’t talk to Thelar much about his condition, Goddess knows–” M’vai paused to curse. “Why do I still say ‘Goddess’? What I mean to say is, who knows why. Probably because Thelar’s mission was more important to N’lahr’s plans than his own welfare. But I think I should try to reach out to Thelar, to see if he can help. He’s the best theoretician we have left.”

  “You’re talking about a sending? That’s incredibly dangerous.”

  “And you don’t think it’s dangerous trusting N’lahr’s health to Cerai?”

  “That’s different!”

  M’vai sighed so loudly Tesra knew a flutter of anger. “You think she’ll help him? She lied to the queen and all of us. For years. She brought us only a few hearthstones at a time, checked in to get any important information, then kept all the others she was collecting for herself. She’s a practiced liar.”

  “I’m not stupid,” Tesra said.

  “Then you agree? We need to act fast to save him. Thelar is the best magical resource we have.”

  “I want to help the commander. But I don’t think this is smart.”

  The younger woman scowled. “She’s grooming you, you know. Just like Synahla groomed us.”

  “I know—”

  “We were working for traitors. Do you want to work for another?”

  Tesra shook her head. “I’m on your side. I swear this is so.”

  “Then help me.” M’vai looked up at the looming ax-beak, poised as though he were ready to rend them. She walked through a careful arrangement of waterfowl, and Tesra reluctantly followed. They knelt together at a back wall, and M’vai removed a hearthstone from a side pouch. Tesra swallowed her surprise. In the dying light, Tesra decided it was likely a white or pale yellow in color.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “Cerai gave it to me. She wants us all to be attuned to a specific stone.” M’vai snorted. “She wants her tools to be as useful as possible to her. Meaning we’re the tools.”

  Tesra said nothing to that.

  “I’m going to focus myself with the stone. You anchor to it lightly and help me watch for dangers. Warn me if I’m too deep in or too far away.”

  “All right. But isn’t this going to be more risky if the Goddess is, well, conscious now?”

  “Yes,” M’vai said testily. “But you just have to focus on drawing power from the upper layers. I did it while we were making repairs.”

  “You make it sound simple.”

  “It won’t be.”

  “I’m just—. Be careful. Do you have to argue about everything?”

  “Sorry,” M’vai said gruffly
. She placed her hands on the hearthstone, and Tesra was reminded of a final objection.

  “Didn’t you just tell the others that a tired mage was one who made mistakes?”

  “This can’t wait, Tesra. I’m going to show Thelar my memory of what I saw within N’lahr, and get his feedback. If we wait until I’m feeling ‘rested’ it may be too late.”

  Tesra kept further reservations to herself, and slipped into the inner world at the same time as her friend. A moment later, both women were connected to the hearthstone. The energy washed over Tesra, who smiled at the familiar rush.

  M’vai rooted her threads to the stone and launched her spirit from her seated body. She soared away, leaving a powerful line of energy trailing after.

  With her view devoted to the inner world, Tesra took in the nearby environment, seeing evidence of what she already knew, for the perfect statues standing all about her were living beings held in stasis. Their life force still shone, but did not shift.

  Something stirred deep within the hearthstone. It glowed fiercely, like a miniature star. It felt as though she had walked out of a dark tunnel to find an entire stadium glaring at her.

  “M’vai!” She shouted the name both in the real world and through the ether, reaching with her threads to tug at her friend’s line at the same moment she shook the redhead’s shoulder.

  Thankfully, she witnessed M’vai’s sinking into her body, though her threads were still tangled with the stone. “Did you find Thelar?” Tesra asked.

  “No,” M’vai said, laughing with alarming pleasure. “But I found beauty! She’s found more and more and her power grows and she knows the way and she is the truth and the end to all and the way and the road and the light—”

  Tesra had dropped her view of the inner world. The hearthstone beside her friend burned with inner fire. “Get out! Shut it down!”

  M’vai rocked back against the wall, shaking.

  Tesra gulped and reached for the stone, fighting to find her own courage as she struggled to close it.

  But doing so was like reaching into a burning oven. “Get your threads clear!” she shouted. Lethargically, M’vai extricated herself, and Tesra worked to untangle her own spirit even as she felt the brilliance and the mastery and the perfection and the beauty—

  And then M’vai was free and Tesra shut the stone and sat back, gasping. The stone pulsed still with faint light.

  Her friend sank to the floor, her mouth still moving. Tesra bent to hear her.

  “So beautiful.” M’vai’s smile widened, and her face shone in ecstasy.

  For a moment longer she remained a whole, healthy young woman, and then she was nothing more than a rain of white ash that fell into the outline of a body.

  Tesra had stopped screaming when N’lahr and Cerai found her a few minutes later, but her mouth still hung open in horror.

  21

  Out upon the Road

  Dawn’s arrival had been muted, for a storm sprang up. Vannek and his companions headed into it as they neared the border. So far they’d only felt occasional raindrops, but whirls of circling blue-and-white lightning crackled in the ebon skies and to either side of a narrow trail of white sand stretching into the blackness until it was lost to sight in the starry void. They’d followed the same track, left by the passage of the Goddess, across the land to this edge.

  While they stood in contemplation of the alarming road, their mounts and baggage animals cropped grass behind them.

  A flash of lightning threw a long shadow behind Varama as she stepped apart, and wind whipped the edges of her khalat.

  “What’s that alten doing now?” Vannek asked.

  Muragan answered softly. “Looking through the magic world.”

  After a night in the ludicrously comfortable grass, Vannek had wakened in pain, both in places he’d known about and others he hadn’t noticed the previous day. In addition, he felt weak and flushed. He’d walked for hours without mention of his discomfort and did not mean to begin complaining now, although he hadn’t objected to the chance to dismount and rest against a hillside. It, like all land in this strange realm, was rich with fragrant flowers. This particular patch had yellow blooms, edged with white, and smelled faintly of a Dendressi dessert he’d sampled in Alantris.

  Muragan sank down beside him. “How’s your arm? You look feverish.”

  “I’m fine, old man.”

  Muragan chuckled without mirth. “Fever is the sign that your body spirit fights demons of injury. It doesn’t mean you’re weak, it just means some of your strength is diverted for an inner fight.”

  “We can’t delay for me to rest,” Vannek said, “so there’s no point in talking about it.” He jerked his chin to indicate the woman. “What’s she thinking about?”

  “I don’t think she likes that storm,” Muragan said.

  Vannek grunted his assent. “She’d be a fool to like it. Tell me this. If we do find the others, what then? Swords won’t be any use against the Dendressi demon goddess.”

  “Sorcerers might. If we get enough of them, together, in one place. Maybe even blood mages.”

  Vannek looked sidelong at him. “You think other blood mages will help us?”

  “What do you think we should do, General?” Muragan asked instead.

  He was saved from having to answer when Varama walked back to them.

  “I’m going to venture onto the white road,” she said. “I won’t attempt opening a portal until the storm blows out.”

  “What if the storm doesn’t blow out?” Vannek asked.

  “Then I’ll attempt it despite the hazards,” Varama replied irritably.

  Vannek pushed to his feet. “We will go with you.”

  The alten mounted her animal. Vannek climbed with some difficulty into saddle and followed. Muragan brought up the rear, leading the pack animals.

  The storm flashed and boomed all about them as they headed onto the road. On either side nothing but black emptiness shot with lightning stretched on forever. It was as though the white sand was an endless bridge, hung upon invisible arches across the night. What, Vannek thought, would happen if he were to ride from its edge? Would he fall, forever, or would the hungry lightning burn him?

  It flashed again and again, sometimes near, sometimes far, but it never struck the road itself.

  Once, Vannek looked back, and saw the realm where they’d battled the queen hanging in sunlight and worried their departure was folly. Almost he asked why the woman didn’t chance working her magics. And then he thought about Varama’s relentless determination throughout the course of the Alantran siege. She certainly had no lack of courage. If the alten thought there was a certain way to open an escape portal, cowardice wasn’t holding her back.

  As they traveled it grew clear that the road itself projected a kind of dim radiance, for the darkness never completely closed upon them. No matter the storm, and the lack of sun or moon, theirs was a twilight journey.

  Eventually Varama called a halt, and they climbed from their saddles. Varama shared out grasses they’d gathered for the horses, and then while the animals ate, the three of them sat for their own repast. Lightning flashed through the darkness, near and far, usually white or yellow, though sometimes it bore a bluish cast.

  Varama leaned against her pack and watched the endless storm, and Vannek watched her. From far away he thought he heard the happy laughter of children at play, but there was no possible place from which that sound could have come.

  “I didn’t know the shifts could extend so far,” Muragan said. “Where are we?”

  “We are under,” Varama said, but didn’t explain further. That rudeness was the push Vannek hadn’t known he was waiting for.

  “I don’t understand you,” he said. “You always make us fight you for details.”

  “I have provided what information is necessary, but perhaps I overestimate my audience. What other answers do you require?”

  Her reply was another irritant. “You’re saying I’m
a stupid Naor,” Vannek said. “That Muragan is stupid.”

  Varama pushed away from her pack. Vannek noticed a vein pulsing along her light blue forehead. “I assure you, you aren’t the only person frustrated by our circumstance.”

  “It’s not the circumstances I’m frustrated with.” Vannek heard Muragan softly suggest dropping the challenge, but ignored him. “I’m just tired of your attitude. You give us one-word answers. You’re rude.”

  “Rude,” Varama repeated flatly. “After practicing enslavement and extermination while you occupied Alantris, you concern yourself with conversational reticence you perceive as a personal slight?”

  “If you hadn’t resisted, your people would not have suffered—”

  “Are you saying none would have been raped, tortured for amusement, or worked to disability if only we’d submitted to your theft and wanton destruction?” Varama asked caustically.

  “Not so many would have died.”

  The alten had apparently been holding back, for this time, when she answered, there was fire in her eyes. “No, they’d just have had to live for your whims. No matter how dark, or selfish. Or do you not count the deeds you facilitated? How many did you murder? You killed my squire, but how many more loved and skilled protectors did you personally slay?”

  “Your squire,” Vannek repeated, wondering which one the woman meant.

  “Her name was Sansyra. You fled from her on dragon back.”

  “That one.” Vannek’s lips curled. “She killed my … She killed my mage.”

  “You speak of him like he was a possession.”

  “He was more than that.”

  “I see.”

  “You see nothing,” Vannek said.

  “I think she sees quite a lot,” Muragan said. “We fought on opposite sides; hers won. There’s no point in this quarreling. Now we have to work together.”

  “We’re not working together,” Vannek said. “She’s not telling us anything. Why are we still here, on this road? She said she’d try opening a portal if the storm didn’t stop. Well, it hasn’t stopped, so why hasn’t she opened a portal?”

  The alten answered in a tightly controlled tone. “You want to know why we’re still here? I lack a hearthstone. All I have to open a portal are a few memory crystals, which hold a fraction of the power of the smallest hearthstone shard. And I must employ that power to attempt a procedure for the first time, a magic I barely comprehend. I do not wish to undertake this experiment where the threads I wield could be interrupted at any time by the chaotic energies of the storm that surrounds us and has strengthened rather than waned as we seek a calmer surround.”