Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “Could you be doing it subconsciously?” Aswick asked.

  “Anything’s possible, but by everything I know, this”—he pointed toward the growing cluster of stones—“requires energy. If I’m the cause, that energy should come from me and I’m not expending any.”

  “Could something block your senses?” Jolella asked.

  “I won’t say it’s impossible, but it’s unlikely.” He checked again to be sure and found nothing. “I can feel the drain of the spells that protect me, so my senses aren’t blocked. Now, if Seritia wanted to hide what She’s doing from me, I’m certain She could, but I don’t see why She would.”

  More pebbles rose from the ruins, and he noticed several larger ones twitching in the dirt. He scanned the area behind him and found empty air. As the collage of stones and rocks grew, he stepped back. The odd collection of debris shifted direction with him and filled in the space he vacated. After his third step, the entire mass of stones abruptly dropped to the ground.

  “Astounding,” Aswick muttered.

  Farrell had crossed beyond the foundation of the temple. He put the tip of his right foot over the line, and the objects shuddered. When he stepped back, they stopped.

  “Interesting,” Farrell said. “Jolella, can you come here, please?”

  “Have you learned something?”

  “I believe so. Can you step over there?” He pointed to a spot inside the temple perimeter.

  She gave him an odd look but complied. As he expected, the stones stirred to life again and she quickly stepped back. “What’s happening?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll wager this only happens when you and I set foot inside where the building used to stand.”

  As if to prove him wrong, Miceral and Aswick moved into the affected area. Other than dust from their footsteps, nothing moved.

  “Do you detect Seritia’s hand in this?” he asked Jolella.

  The priestess shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “What does this mean?” Yelsma asked.

  “I don’t know.” A lot didn’t make sense. Most of all, the robe. He shook his head. “And why the robe?”

  “What?” Jolella asked.

  “I was asking why Seritia would leave me a high priestess’s robe. It’s an odd gift for me.”

  The priestess cocked her head to the left. “True, but She left it for you nevertheless. It’s for you to figure out why.”

  “Are you sure? That it’s for me, I mean,” Farrell asked, his mind racing toward a different conclusion. “Maybe it’s there for me to recover for someone else.”

  “Someone else?” Jolella asked. “For whom other than the Chosen would it be meant?”

  “You.”

  “Me?”

  “Don’t scoff,” Farrell said. “I’m not the only one fighting this war. You saw how the temple reacted to you.”

  “Why would she leave me my predecessor’s robe here?” Jolella looked unconvinced. “Had the Blessed Mother wanted me to have this, She would have left it in the temple.”

  “And if the Six wanted me to have the Gifts or the chest, why not just leave them in Yar-del?” The more he talked it out, the more convinced he was that he was right. “For every action there is a reason, even if we don’t understand it.”

  “Why do you think the robe is for Jolella?” Miceral asked.

  “It makes more sense than it’s meant for me.” Farrell replied. “And from the events today, it’s clear Mother Jolella is at least as connected to them as I am.”

  “Again, had Seritia wished to give this to me, She would have kept it in the temple at Agloth.”

  “Not necessarily,” Aswick said. “Start with the premise the robe is meant for you and has a role to play in the war. Had She left it at the temple, there would be instructions on who it was for and why. That would make it susceptible to theft by our enemies. Or less worthy predecessors might try to use it for a purpose other than what it was meant.”

  “Exactly.” Farrell smirked at Aswick. “By leaving it here, it remained hidden and alerted us to its importance. All we need to do is figure out why and how to use it.”

  “That is all?” Jolella asked. “Such a small task.”

  “Welcome to my life. I’m constantly given Gifts with no instructions or explanations.”

  “Then how do we know what to do with it?” Yelsma asked.

  “We’ll know when we pass the test.”

  “What test?” Jolella asked.

  “This one,” Farrell said absently, his mind focused on what was to come.

  “By the Six!” Jolella said with no hint of shame. “I love you dearly, but your abrupt answers test my patience at times.”

  “Sorry.” He cleared his thoughts. “Liberating Trellham was a test of my abilities. So is this. The Six only want us to have what’s there if we’re able to get it. If not, we’re not ready.”

  “Who is ‘we’?” Miceral asked.

  “Mother Jolella and me.” He turned toward Jolella. “You sensed something the moment you arrived. The stones reacted to me and you. There is the chest and a priestess robe. It fits. That’s why I believe recovering them is going to take both of us working together.”

  Jolella didn’t respond, and Farrell studied her. She’d known he was right the moment she arrived. All he needed to do was convince her to trust her instinct.

  “Think on it.” He waited until she looked at him to continue. “As I said before, it’s too risky to attempt to recover them today. We need time to find the right solution.”

  “Your words have a measure of wisdom.” She smiled. “Father Lingum will be pleased. I will scour Agloth’s library and those of the other temples. Mother Yelsma, I require your help when I leave.”

  “Yes, Holy Mother.” Yelsma’s eyes sparkled at the request.

  “Excellent.” Jolella gathered her robes about her to go back to the pavilion. “Chosen, if I may impose, I would like to return to Agloth.”

  “Of course. Anything for my big sister.” His mocking bow drew a swat from Jolella as well as Miceral and Father Aswick.

  “Petulant child.” Jolella reached forward and hugged him. “Shall we, little brother?”

  He smiled as they stepped apart. “Of course.”

  Forty

  “I can’t believe we endured a week of formal ceremonies and failed to find what you were looking for,” Miceral said as they walked through a permanent Door into their apartment.

  “I’m not disappointed.” Farrell waved his hand in front of his chest and his armor was gone.

  Miceral shook his head. “You ought to wear that more often.”

  “Why?” Farrell asked. “Don’t look at me like I’m mad,” Miceral said as he unbuckled his breastplate. “It’s a gift from Khron.”

  “As is the set you’re removing.” Farrell moved over and held the backplate.

  “Thank you.” Miceral collected the piece from him. “I’m accustomed to wearing mine for as long as needed. You, on the other hand, fidget and chafe after only a few minutes. Besides, yours has magical qualities you can use all the time.”

  Farrell knelt to release Miceral’s leg guards, then stood and slapped the pair into Miceral’s hand. “I don’t need it all the time. When I’m in Haven, if I need energy, I can access the Sources. And right now I don’t feel like wearing armor. I feel like a bath.”

  “Armor would be intrusive in the tub.” Miceral winked. “Especially if you’re trying to get clean.”

  “Exactly.” He led the way to their bedroom.

  “Do you plan to use magic to undress as well?” Miceral asked from inside his closet.

  “If you have a better suggestion, I’ll listen.” Farrell hoped he’d read the signal correctly.

  “Since you proved so helpful with my armor, I think it’s only fair I help you with your clothes.” He pulled Farrell closer. “It makes me feel useful.”

  “I could use a back washer if you’re any good at that.” Farrell kissed him on the cheek.<
br />
  “I’m not half-bad.”

  Washed, dried, and dressed, they sat in front of the window in the music room. Miceral had his back against the stone, allowing Farrell to lean back against his chest.

  “Do you think I should find a new view for this window?” Farrell locked his fingers with Miceral’s and brought their hands across his chest. “I’ve had the same location since I created this room.”

  “Most people don’t get to change their view. Not unless they tear down their home and rebuild elsewhere,” Miceral said. “Seems a waste of power, considering this is a great view.”

  “It looks over Gharaha.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Miceral kissed the back of Farrell’s neck, making him squirm.

  “Gharaha is where everything will be decided.” His good mood started to sour. “It’s been the focus of my life since I was sixteen. Longer, if you count the years I lived here without knowing its significance.”

  Miceral hugged Farrell tighter. “If you did change it, what would you replace it with?”

  “The ocean,” Farrell said wistfully. “I could sneak back to Yar-del and cut a swath from the cliffs below the city.”

  “That sounds dangerous.”

  “Not really. I’d be there and gone before Meglar knew what happened.” Farrell knew it wasn’t that easy, but it wasn’t hard, either.

  Rubbing Farrell’s chest, Miceral didn’t speak.

  “You don’t like the idea,” Farrell said.

  “Didn’t you say if someone came upon the patch you’d traded our view for, they could see into this room?”

  “This patch, yes.” He pointed to their window. “I was new to my powers when I made this. Were I to create a new view, I’d take steps so it looked into something else. The back of a horse’s stall would be good.”

  Miceral laughed. “Nice, but how about you devote your energy to recovering the chest and robe in Trellham?”

  “I’m already working on that.”

  Miceral snorted. “You look hard at work on the problem.”

  “I already sent a message to Heminaltose asking him to come over so we could talk about this.”

  “Just him?” Miceral sounded surprised.

  “Yes. Mother is in Belsport, and Sanduval is in Honal. Kel and Heminaltose bicker too much for me to stay focused, so I don’t want them together right now.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t ask Kel first. Not that I’m suggesting you should, just surprised.”

  Farrell knew he’d get this question. “Kel and I think too much alike. I’m looking for a different approach. One that is more scholarly and thought out than my normal take direct action and see what happens. If Heminaltose and I can’t find an answer, I’ll ask Kel.”

  “You don’t feel pressed to collect it immediately?”

  “No and yes.” He hated that answer, but this wasn’t a simple situation. “My instinct tells me it’s vital for the final confrontation, but not for right now. Given we have some time, I’d rather not risk losing it forever by doing something rash.”

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “That would be Master Heminaltose.” Farrell disentangled himself from Miceral. “I’ll let him in.”

  Barefoot and wearing informal clothing, Farrell padded his way through their rooms to the door. His old teacher eyed him up, and Farrell shrugged. “We’re relaxing after visiting Trellham, again.”

  Heminaltose snorted softly. “You’ll get no sympathy from me. I did my share of ‘official meetings.’”

  “Come in.” He shut the door and motioned to the back. “Miceral is waiting for us in the music room.”

  “I must say your invitation took me by surprise,” Heminaltose said as he followed Farrell. “Was Kel unavailable?”

  Glad he was in front so Heminaltose couldn’t see his face tighten, Farrell said, “I didn’t ask him for help.” Yet.

  He let Heminaltose digest his words in silence. When they reached the room, he pointed toward the large couch against the wall. “Would you like some coffee? It came from Belsport only yesterday, so it is particularly fresh.”

  “Flattery, coffee—what’s next? The Eye of Honorus?” Heminaltose joked.

  Farrell shook his head and glanced at Miceral. Maybe it had been a mistake not asking Kel. He poured two cups and handed one to his mentor. “I’m a bit tired after what happened today, so I’m going to skip dancing around decorum. Although you’ve come armed with barbs, I’m not going to insult you back. I will, however, ask you to leave if you continue to act this way.”

  Miceral raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Heminaltose took a sip and looked over his cup. He set it down and sat back.

  “You must be tired. Usually you give as good as you take.”

  “In truth, I am, but I’ve no stomach for it after watching you and Kel snipe at each other the last few weeks.”

  “I don’t enjoy our exchanges, either,” Heminaltose said.

  “Then why do you continue to have them?” Miceral asked. “It takes two to have an argument.”

  “An argument would be fine; discourse is useful. But Kel turns to insults as soon as you disagree with him.”

  Farrell would have pointed to Heminaltose’s similar behavior, but he didn’t want to argue. “I’ll speak to Kel about being more civil.”

  “I’d appreciate that, and I’ll try to do better myself.” Heminaltose picked up his cup. “Excellent coffee.”

  “I thought you’d approve.” The tension broken, Farrell relaxed and sat next to Miceral. “Before I tell you what I need, let me tell you what happened today.”

  Heminaltose settled back, cup in hand, as Farrell and Miceral recounted their visit to the ruins of Seritia’s temple. He asked for clarification on a few things; otherwise he just listened. As he spoke, Farrell saw the sparkle of interest in Heminaltose’s eyes.

  “Astounding,” he said when Farrell finished. “I find it difficult to envision what’s there, let alone how such a thing happened.”

  “Would it help if you saw it in person?” Farrell asked.

  “Help with what? You haven’t told me what you want me to assist you with.”

  “Sorry, as I said, I’m tired.” He rubbed his eyes gently. “I need your help retrieving the chest and robe.”

  “What makes you think I can help with that?”

  “I’m hoping you can help me work through the problem.”

  “Without sounding ungrateful, why haven’t you consulted Kel? You’re kindred spirits.” Heminaltose held out his cup.

  Farrell refilled both cups. “The fact Kel and I are so similar tells me to look elsewhere for help. This isn’t something I can toss power at and fix. Kel has more patience than I, but even he would admit your approach to magic is vastly different than his.”

  Taking his cup back, Heminaltose smiled. “That’s a polite way of saying I’m a stodgy, conservative wizard.”

  “The man who stood next to my mother on the walls of Yar-del and did battle with Meglar was hardly stodgy or conservative. You’re more deliberate in searching for solutions. My instincts tell me we will only get one attempt.” He stared at his master, aware what he thought about gut feelings.

  “Much as I disapprove of acting on your intuition, I’ve seen how often it’s right.” Heminaltose winked, and Farrell smiled. “Tell me why you think our first attempt could be our last.”

  “We don’t know what’s causing the effect inside the circle. If it’s the chest or the robe, disturbing either could cause everything inside the circle to return to its original state.”

  “That’s a possibility, but why can’t it be something else?”

  “Such as?”

  “Nothing.” Heminaltose smirked. “What if the circle was created by the sisters and Seritia, and not the chest and robe? If that were the case, moving either won’t affect anything.”

  “Like how I could sit on Nerti’s back in the patch outside Agloth?”

  Heminaltose nodd
ed. “Right. But we have no information to suggest that’s any more likely than what you suggested.”

  “Which means we should plan as if I’m correct.”

  “Because if I’m wrong, we could lose everything.” Heminaltose took a sip and stared at the ceiling. “That’s a wise plan.”

  Farrell stared into his drink. “Unfortunately, it’s not really a plan, just an idea. It doesn’t tell me how to safely recover the chest and robe.”

  “No, but it’s a start.” Heminaltose smiled. “I’m impressed that you recognized the danger. That’s not meant as an insult. Most people, myself included, would have assumed this circle was the same as the one at Agloth and tried to grab the items.”

  “I wish I could say your wisdom rubbed off on me, but it was more a feeling than my thinking it through. If I thought it was the same as the circle outside Agloth, I’d have tried to take them on the spot.”

  “Perhaps, but you still had the foresight to think through the dangers if you were wrong. That’s a start.” He leaned back. “Any thoughts about why Seritia would leave you Mother Ganz’s robe?”

  Farrell laughed. “You know I do, just as you know they are not backed by articulable facts.”

  “You believe it’s for Mother Jolella.” Heminaltose raised an eyebrow as Farrell stared at him with mild shock. “Don’t look so surprised. I spent hours answering your questions as a student. I know how you think. I want to hear your hunch.”

  “You’re of a mind to heed my instincts?” Farrell opened his eyes wider in mock disbelief.

  “Let’s not get crazy, lad. I just said I’d hear them.” Heminaltose’s smile faded. “Only an old fool would refuse to recognize your talent for sizing up a situation with minimal information.”

  “Half a compliment is better than I used to get.” Farrell winked at Miceral. “To me it seems clear Seritia, for whatever reason, wanted that particular robe to disappear. Jolella said there’s no mention of either the robe or Mother Ganz’s unique disappearance in the temple records. That suggests Seritia wanted both those facts lost from memory.

  “More important than why She wanted those facts hidden is why She wanted Mother Ganz’s robe to surface again now. I believe Seritia wanted Her current high priestess to have it at this moment.”