Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  Penelope’s eyes nearly closed as she glared at him. She snuck a look at the other wizards and breathed loudly through her nose. “I . . . you do not get to tell me to leave.”

  Looking past her at the others on the wall, Farrell said, “Would everyone excuse us for a bit?”

  At first no one moved. Then Lefliar nodded and the group slowly walked away.

  “Come with me, please?” He pointed to open land east of Agloth’s gates. “This isn’t the place for us to argue.”

  He stepped off the edge of the wall and drifted away and down. A circle of ground several hundred feet from the city caught his eye, and he made his way to the spot. Once on the ground, he knelt and brushed his fingers through the dirt.

  “Why are—?”

  “Did you notice this?” He twisted his neck to make eye contact before returning to examine the soil. “This is . . . it’s impossible.”

  “What nonsense are you spewing to try to distract me?”

  “Look at it, Princess, really look at it.” This time he placed his palm on the dusty ground. “Agloth is ringed for thousands of feet in defensive spells; everywhere except this small circle.”

  She opened her mouth, and Farrell saw her wrath blaze a bit brighter. “If you think . . . By the Six! How?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She knelt next to him. “It makes no sense at all.”

  “Perhaps you do not understand what you see,” Nerti said.

  Farrell looked at Penelope and she nodded. “How so?” he asked.

  “Is it impossible or merely impossible for you?”

  “If we can’t do it . . . divine intervention.” Penelope nodded in confirmation.

  “Only Seritia could have done this, but why?”

  “Did you notice this before you flew down?” she asked. “Until you pointed it out, the entire area appeared to be covered with magic, including this circle.”

  Farrell shook his head slowly, examining the ground under his hand. “I first noticed it from the air. I’ll ask Jolella if she knows anything about this before I examine it more closely.”

  “If you didn’t bring me here to see this, why are we here?”

  “So we can talk away from the others.” He stood. “I know you’ve been a grand master wizard for decades before I was born, and I know you want to be a bigger part of the war, but I’m going to confront Vedric alone.”

  “Why? Give me one good reason why you have to do this alone.”

  “Just one?” Farrell smiled, but Penelope scowled. “The first is, we’ve never fought together, and this isn’t the time to learn.”

  “That’s an empty argument. Unless we’re trying to weave a complicated spell, we won’t need to work together.” Her face dared him to say she was wrong.

  “True, but if we’re not casting spells together, why do we need to fight together?” He paused, but she didn’t reply. “One of us needs to watch for the powerful wizard—assuming there is just one.”

  “Fine, if that’s such an important job, why don’t you take it for yourself?”

  “Do you really want to have this discussion?” He knew why she protested, but he needed her to see how foolish it was. “Is being responsible for defending the entire city really too insignificant a role for you?”

  Penelope stared at him silently for a few moments. “Of course not, but I believe you have a different motivation for this decision.”

  He snorted. “Are you asking me to check my motivation again?”

  “This does feel like it’s personal for you.”

  “It is personal. I hate everything associated with my father.”

  “Vedric will be just as dead if I kill him.”

  “No!” The vehemence of his answer surprised him.

  “You think I can’t do it. Is that it?” Her words came out in a rush. “You think I’ll lose.”

  “You can’t and you will.” Being blunt wouldn’t help, but he was tired and tact failed him. “I meant what I said about valuing your skills, but you’re not up for this.” When she opened her mouth, he held up a hand. “Let me finish, please. You asked, and shouting me down won’t change my answer.”

  “Continue.”

  “How many wizards have you killed? How many wizard duels to the death have you fought? How many soldiers have you turned into a charred hunk of flesh or left with a smoldering stump where their head used to rest? How ruthless have you been to prepare yourself to look at your opponent as nothing more than a nameless, faceless obstacle?

  “On the other side, I’ve been killing Meglar’s wizards for more than a decade. At sixteen I killed a young wizard I once trained with who joined Meglar’s army. It’s easy to hurl spells at groups of soldiers and their wizards. It’s another thing to stare down another wizard one-on-one and be ready to battle to the death.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Farrell. It demeans our friendship. I’m capable of doing what must be done.”

  “I don’t mean to offend you, nor am I belittling your abilities. Objectively, however, I’ve more experience with this type of fight. I also believe I’m the more powerful wizard. Do you disagree?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’m confused. If you accept I’m the stronger wizard, why are we having this debate? Logically I should fight Vedric, not you.” He let her mull over his words for a moment before he continued. “You act like I’m suggesting you run messages or enchant arrows. You’re in charge of everything else. Does that sound like I have no confidence in you?”

  “Of course not.” She rubbed her forehead with a hand. “I’ve been the best wizard in the crowd and in charge for a long time. Suddenly I’m not. That’s hard to accept.”

  “I don’t mean to be annoying, but I was actually worried you were mad I gave you the harder job.” He gave her a sheepish shrug. “I mean, I only have to fight Vedric; you have to face the rest.”

  Penelope rolled her eyes. “I have all the wizards of Agloth, plus the ones Markus sent. I doubt we’ll be in trouble.”

  “Don’t be too overconfident. Meglar has attracted every wizard with a mean, cruel, or evil streak. Most of them hid their true nature to avoid being hunted down and executed. But once he put out the call, they descended on Zargon like flies to fresh manure.”

  “Lovely image.”

  “It fits him.” He winked to hide his hatred.

  “When you speak to Jolella, I would like to come with you.” Before Farrell could respond, she added, “I’m curious about this area as well.”

  “You don’t need to justify your request. You have a right to know, and I’d have asked you anyway. We think about things differently, so your opinion would be welcome.” He pointed toward the walls. “I should get back to Peter and then see how the mobilization is going.”

  As the afternoon wore down, Peter and Farrell sat in the shadow of a building and observed the dwarves’ arrival. The shade, however, provided minimal relief from the heat. The dwarves made good progress and would likely have better than two-thirds of their number in Agloth by nightfall.

  Farrell had sent word to Drendar and Thrinton to ask the companies not to salute him as they arrived if he was seated. If he had to stand every time a new unit came through, he’d leave the area again.

  “Don’t they know any other songs?” Peter asked. “They’ve been singing that one for hours.”

  Farrell had grown weary of the song as well. “It’s their war song. They sing it as they march to battle. If it’s any help, I’m told they won’t sing it now that they’re here.”

  “Thanks be to Arritisa.”

  After the most recent company cleared the mouth of the Door, Farrell noticed a cleric on the north side of the field looking in their direction. The young woman wore pale-rose novice robes and hurried toward them. She checked the Door several times as she walked. She made it past the danger zone as the first row of soldiers appeared.

  Farrell stood to greet the priestess, and the newest company of dwarves saluted him. The
young woman had to wait until they cleared the square before he could greet her.

  “Blessings of Seritia to you, Your Majesty.” She bowed to Farrell and then to Peter. “Blessing of Seritia to you, Your Highness.”

  “Thank you, Sister.” Farrell motioned for them to move out of sight lest he be forced to salute the next company that arrived. “How may we help you?”

  “The high priestess wishes to speak to you.” She kept her eyes down, something Farrell disliked intensely.

  “Now?”

  “Yes. I am to escort you to her.” She turned without giving them a chance to protest.

  The novice led them to a small door south of the parade ground. They walked for almost fifteen minutes, as they had to weave their way through the maze of mismatched towers. The journey went quicker once they reached the main temple, and they soon found themselves before a simple, unadorned door.

  “These are the priestess’s private quarters.” Their guide knocked three times and left.

  Farrell and Peter exchanged confused looks, but before either could speak, the door opened.

  “Blessings of Seritia to you both.” Jolella invited them inside. She wore a simple robe with an equally plain belt, and her hair had been pulled back and tied with a cord.

  “You honor us, Holy Mother.” Farrell wasn’t sure he should enter, but Peter led the way.

  “The niceties of manners have been met,” she said as she guided them to a sitting room. “Now I would prefer you call me Jolella and give me your leave to use your names and not your titles.”

  “Of course . . . Jolella.” As much as he preferred names to title, it always felt awkward the first time he tried it out on someone else.

  “Your message said you wanted to ask me a question?” She offered them seats near a low table with fruit, cups, and a pitcher. “Please help yourselves.”

  “I do.” Farrell declined the food, but stepped aside so Peter could get some. “There is a patch of earth several hundred feet in front of the walls that is devoid of all protective spells or defenses. I noticed it when I was standing atop the walls. Are you familiar with this?”

  “I’m not a wizard, so I can’t see what spells or magical defenses guard the city.” Jolella put a few slices of green melon on a plate and handed it to Farrell. “Try some. It’s perfectly ripe at the moment. Have you asked Penelope? I gave her and Master Lefliar an old book with the spells and keys to the defenses that I retrieved from the vault.”

  “She was with me when I first noted it.” He picked up a slice of melon and took a bite. The sweet juice dribbled down his chin, prompting a laugh from Jolella.

  “Here.” She handed him a napkin. “I forgot to warn you that they are juicy when they’re this ripe.”

  After cleaning his face, he ate the rest of his slice. “I don’t know what is perfectly ripe, but it was delicious. Another of your favorites?”

  “I confess, I tend to indulge in things I enjoy, but I’ve limited my sweets to fruits for fear I’ll devour all the chocolate in Agloth and need a new door to allow me to pass.”

  Her figure belied the image of a fat priestess.

  “My sister would fight you for them if you were in Belsport,” Peter said between bites. “I have to get up early and get my share when the cooks make caramel chocolates or she’ll hoard all the extras for herself.”

  Jolella laughed. “I know well the infighting among siblings for sweets. I have three older brothers who ate twice as much as I. If not for the kind heart of my oldest brother, the other two would have stolen my treats before I had a chance to eat them.”

  The idea Jolella had siblings shouldn’t have surprised Farrell. He poured everyone some chilled fruit drink. “Where is your family now?”

  “We lived in a small trading city on the southwestern coast of Erd.”

  “Lived?” Farrell asked with his cup poised at his lips.

  “Oh, it’s not tragic.” She laughed and took a sip. “I had them move here when I became high priestess. My brothers are officers in the guard, and my parents, at my insistence, keep my brothers in line.”

  “Sounds like a reasonable solution.” He finished his drink and set the cup down. “About the circle outside the city.”

  “Yes, that.” She didn’t appear upset by the change of topics. “What did Penelope say?”

  “She didn’t know what to make of it, either, but we believe Seritia is responsible. Why or for what purpose, we can’t say.”

  To his surprise, Jolella appeared genuinely surprised. “Are you certain? I have no information that Seritia did anything to the ground before the walls.”

  “Certain? No, if I was, I’d have asked a different question.” He smirked and winked at Peter. “Can I show it to you? Maybe you’ll recognize it and tell me it’s nothing.”

  “Nothing?” She peered down her nose. “Or are you hoping it’s something important?”

  He shrugged off her implication. “I’m not sure. If it’s something important, I don’t know what to make of it or how to use it. If you don’t know, then I’m not sure what to do. But my instincts tell me it’s important.”

  “Then I shall come see this mysterious but possibly important piece of ground.”

  Her light mood didn’t calm Farrell’s nerves. “Let me alert Penelope that we’re going to see it. She asked to be present when we go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “The desert heat is said to be good for a person.” Jolella released Farrell’s hand once they landed on the wall. “I’ve not figured out, however, how I benefit.”

  “I agree. The heat saps my energy even when I’m sitting quietly.” Farrell noticed movement to his left and Penelope flew toward them.

  “You never sit quietly.” Peter released his grip and moved out of reach.

  “Where is this patch of . . . Blessed Seritia!” Jolella stared in the direction of the anomaly.

  “What do you see?” Penelope asked and moved next to the priestess.

  Jolella didn’t answer right away. “I . . . ” She tilted her head to the right, and after a few moments looked up. “I’ve stared at the plains hundreds of times and never seen this before. It’s incredible.”

  “Do you know what it is?” Farrell moved to the other side of her.

  “No.” Jolella shook her head but never took her eyes off the desert. “I’ve never seen anything like it before, but it’s clear Blessed Seritia has touched it.”

  “Interesting that you can see something,” Penelope said. “For me, it’s what I don’t see that makes it out of place. It is a small oasis of barren desert amidst a sea of magic.”

  She looked at Farrell with a questioning glance. “Which do you see?”

  “Both.” He switched between his regular vision and his wizard’s sight. “When I look at it as a wizard, I see the shimmer of magic everywhere except that bit of ground. But with my normal sight, I see . . . I don’t know what I see, but the spot looks different than the land around it.”

  “May we go down so I can inspect it up close?” Jolella asked.

  “Is it safe to take them outside the city?” Penelope asked and glanced at Farrell.

  The high priestess laughed. “Whatever else it is, that plot of ground has been touched by Seritia. I can’t see any danger to us.”

  “I’ll take Peter, if you take the—take Jolella,” Farrell said to Penelope.

  “Are you sure it is okay for me to come?” Peter asked after the others flew off. “I feel a bit out of place.”

  “Of course.” He held out his hand. “Take advantage of the opportunity to be a part of history. When the war is over and your name is in the ballads, everyone is going to be jealous.”

  Jolella had removed her sandals and was walking around the affected area. She made a complete circle before she stepped inside. With her eyes on the ground, she walked toward the center. Twice she stopped and twisted her feet in the sand.

  “It’s as I thought.” She motioned to Farrell to come clos
er. “This . . . it’s amazing.”

  “By the Six, stop talking in riddles!” Penelope slapped a hand over her mouth and lowered it slowly. “My apologies, Holy Mother. That was wrong of me.”

  Jolella showed no sign the outburst bothered her. “Think nothing of it, child.”

  Farrell and Peter laughed, earning a glare from Penelope.

  “To answer the question,” Jolella said, “I don’t know what it is, but I’ve only felt this before when something was touched by the Goddess. She created this, though I don’t know what this is or why She made it.”

  She knelt and put her left hand in the dirt. Twice she let the grains flow between her fingers. The third time she held up the handful of soil. “Feel this, Chosen. Even away from the ground, Her presence remains.”

  Farrell moved closer, and she reached for him. Her hand passed through his, and she started to fall. “Blessed Mother!”

  When Farrell tried to grab Jolella, his fingers grasped only air. “What in the Eight?”

  “No, Chosen, He had nothing to do with this.” Jolella picked up another handful of dirt and tossed it at his chest. It sailed through him and landed behind him. “Interesting.”

  Farrell touched his chest, and it was as solid as ever. “That’s not the word I’d have used.”

  The priestess ignored him. “Would you two please join us in the circle?”

  “What circle?” Peter asked. “I don’t see anything.”

  Without thinking, Farrell grabbed his staff and started to trace the edge of the affected area.

  “Clearly you can touch some things, just not each other.” Penelope stepped over the line Farrell had drawn. Peter quickly joined her.

  Farrell planted the end of his staff in the dirt and reached out to touch Peter. His hand stopped on his friend’s shoulder. He repeated the test on Penelope and got the same result.

  Penelope tried to grab Farrell but could not. Her attempt to touch Peter was successful. “I hate mysteries.”