Champion of the Gods Box Set

by Andrew Q. Gordon

  “Why Her high priestess and not Her Chosen?”

  Farrell shrugged. “The best I can offer is I’m not drawn to the robe like I am to the chest. I know whatever’s in the chest is meant to help me fight Meglar. I’m ambivalent toward the robe.”

  “Nothing you said points to Jolella as the intended recipient.”

  “Agreed, but the moment Jolella set foot on the temple grounds, she knew more had occurred than just Neldin razing the building.” He tapped his index fingers together. “And if Seritia wanted me to have the robe, She could have left it with Randgar in the void. Instead, She had Mother Ganz sacrifice her life to preserve it until now.”

  “Did she? Sacrifice herself, that is?” Heminaltose asked. “And couldn’t Seritia have left it with Randgar if it was meant for Jolella?”

  Farrell nodded. That made as much sense as his arguments. If Heminaltose was correct, he had no right to risk Jolella’s life trying to recover the robe. But if it was for her, he was certain he couldn’t get it, and he’d likely destroy both it and the chest.

  “Regret asking for my input yet?” Heminaltose asked.

  Farrell smiled. “Not in the least. I needed to hear your skepticism.”

  “Understand, I’m not suggesting it wasn’t left for her, only that you shouldn’t rule out the possibility it’s meant for you.”

  “I know.” He walked over to the window and stared at the grass in the waning light.

  “You’re quiet,” Miceral said after a minute passed.

  “In the past, whenever he stopped talking, I needed to worry about what he was about to do.”

  Farrell laughed softly. “I wish I could say you’re exaggerating, but there are too many examples of when that was true to refute.”

  “Yes, there are,” Heminaltose said.

  “I’m trying to work through the implications of what you said.” Farrell knew the answer he’d reach, even if he didn’t want to voice it to the others. Unless he was sure, he wouldn’t put Jolella in danger.

  Heminaltose slapped his thighs and stood. “You also went silent when you worried about others getting hurt. Jolella will make her own choices. Just be sure to give her full information. It is Seritia’s temple. You can’t stop her from being there.”

  “Actually, I can,” Farrell said without looking over. “She couldn’t get to the site without my help.”

  “Don’t be so sure.” He put his hand on Farrell’s shoulder. “As I said, it’s Seritia’s temple.”

  “True.” He could release his magic, and the walls would collapse again. That would keep her away. Him, too, and that wasn’t acceptable. If only he knew what had actually—He snapped his head around so he could look at his former master. “Would you go with me to the temple?”

  Heminaltose met his gaze and squinted. “This is truly a day of surprises. Why?”

  “I want to see what happened for myself. To do that, I need an anchor.”

  “Anchor? You mean . . .?” His eyes opened wider.

  “For you to help, you need to see what I see.” He wasn’t sure how his master would react, but the hard stare wasn’t it.

  “Why me and why now?”

  He knew what Heminaltose meant. “Erstad wasn’t qualified to help me see through time. Heminaltose is.”

  “You developed this technique with Kel, and he’s assisted you twice already. Wouldn’t he be the better choice?”

  “Yes, Kel already knows how to do it, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn how to assist me.” Farrell stole a glance at Miceral. “A certain life partner pointed out my worship of my famous ancestor prevented me from benefiting from the wisdom of others. After Yar-del and Endor, I’d have given almost anything to have Mother, you, and Sanduval back. Then you reappear, and I treat you like the lesser wizards you pretended to be for years. Kel would be the first to admit he doesn’t have all the answers.”

  “I’d like to hear that,” Heminaltose said.

  So much for his mentor being nicer to his grandfather. “Maybe he wouldn’t admit it, but I will. When we left Rastoria, I told him I wanted to speak to Penelope because she’d have a different perspective, and he agreed. This is the same. I need to take advantage of everyone’s wisdom, not just one person’s.”

  Heminaltose tried to speak, but Farrell held up his hand. “I’m sorry I’ve not treated you as well as you deserve, but this isn’t a token request designed to prove I value your opinion. I need your help. Most of my life, I’ve trusted my instincts on who to turn to for help. My instincts tell me you’re the person I need for this problem. If you’re not inclined to help, I completely understand. You owe me nothing.”

  “Farrell, this has nothing to do with what I owe you.” He put his hand on Farrell’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’ve been given a burden none of us want. Anything I can do to help, I will. Zenora said eventually you’d realize I wasn’t Erstad. She counseled I show patience. She said you’d get over your infatuation with Kel. Once again, we see a mother knows her child better than anyone else. Of course I’ll help you. I just didn’t expect you to grow up this fast, proving I haven’t accepted you’re not my student anymore.”

  He’d hear it from Miceral, but it was worth his partner being right to renew his ties with Heminaltose. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “However, before we leap into the fight, you’ll need to humor my stodgy, conservative nature and explain how this works. I don’t want to be known as the wizard who left the Champion of the Six stranded in time.”

  Farrell laughed. “Of course, but let me order some food first. I’ll do better on a full stomach.”

  “Do we have the time it will take for your stomach to be full?” Heminaltose asked.

  Farrell shook his head, glad to see he’d started to repair the damage he’d created.

  Forty-One

  Floating over the hole, Farrell and Heminaltose studied the results of Seritia’s intervention. Stones, rocks, metal, and the odd bit of wood littered the ground. Nearly twenty feet in diameter, the circle was bigger than the one at Agloth.

  “Astounding,” Heminaltose said. “Seeing it, I still have trouble understanding it.”

  Farrell nodded even though his master was focused on the ground and couldn’t see him. He’d restored the illusion so Heminaltose could see the chest and robe. He made sure the objects he hid were visible as gray outlines so they could avoid contact with anything as they moved lower.

  The small wooden chest with black iron bands on the edges sat in the center of the circle. Draped over the side, the pale rose robe lay as if tossed there by its owner.

  “Can you see the circle?” Farrell asked.

  “No.” Heminaltose shook his head. “I assume you can.”

  “Yes. I liken it to wizard’s sight, only not as pronounced. At least not for me.” Farrell looked closer to refine his description.

  “Not for you? What does that mean?”

  “Jolella told me that when she sees the hand of Seritia, it’s blinding. For me, wizardry is brighter.” He shifted his vision so he could see the energy he used in relation to the circle. “And it doesn’t distort everything like wizard’s sight does. I just see the affected area.”

  “Does she see it that way because she is a priestess?”

  “Having never trained as a cleric, I don’t know. Maybe I don’t see things like a cleric, only as a Chosen.”

  “We should find out. It could prove helpful.”

  “Maybe.” He hadn’t considered it before, but as Chosen, his ability to detect Seritia’s touch should have been at least as good as the high priestess’s. That he couldn’t only reinforced his belief there was something here for Jolella.

  “Farrell?”

  He snapped out of his thoughts. “What?”

  “Where were you?”

  “Thinking about what we’re about to do.” It wasn’t a complete lie, even if not entirely true. “What did you ask?”

  “I asked what you hope to find by looking t
hrough time?”

  “I don’t know, but if I did, I wouldn’t need to do it, would I?” Farrell saw the pained expression he used to get as a student and laughed. “My hope is that we’ll see something Yelsma may have missed. Things happened fast, and she couldn’t replay them like I can. Or perhaps something happened she didn’t realize was important at that time, but in hindsight is significant. At worst, you get to see how the technique works, and we get to view what happened for ourselves.”

  “That sounds reasonable.” Heminaltose looked down. “Where should we sit?”

  Farrell chose an out-of-the-way spot behind the rubble close to the back wall, where few dwarves were likely to venture. It was also far enough from the edge of the temple foundation that he wouldn’t attract another swarm of rocks. Heminaltose made sure no one would see them. He erected a strong shield just in case someone stumbled upon their position.

  Farrell raised his legs and floated over the packed dirt. He cleared his thoughts and took a deep breath. They went over the process once more before Farrell extended a link.

  “How long will it take to reach the desired time?” Heminaltose asked.

  “Judging by how long it took me to get there the first time, I’d estimate a few minutes. Though I might be able to go faster since I have a better idea how fast I can move backward.”

  Feeling the familiar touch of Heminaltose’s mind, Farrell began the process. Unlike the last time he tried this, he was inundated with recent activity in the area. He ignored the flurry of movement and pushed the speed backward until the images turned into a blur. The quick, periodic flashes of light he remembered from his previous attempts allowed him to gauge his progress.

  Satisfied with the speed the years rolled back, he focused on moving his point of reference. This was a new element of the spell he and Heminaltose had worked on before coming to Trellham. When he directed the image to move into the temple, the whirl of movement almost broke his concentration.

  His link with Heminaltose slipped, and for a split second he thought the binding would collapse. An urgent tug from his mentor tightened the link, and the two settled into the steady tension necessary for Farrell to reel himself back.

  As he worked to regain his focus, a massive flash presaged the sudden appearance of the temple in his mind. He cursed at missing the signs he was close to his goal. Instead of a controlled slowdown so he could estimate the passage of time, he had to bring time to a sudden and wrenching halt.

  When the regression stopped, the chamber was dark and empty. He started time moving again, but without movement he had no point of reference for how fast the hours ticked by. After counting to ten, he increased the speed. He repeated this pattern several times as he waited for someone to enter the room.

  Given how fast he’d been moving backward when he stopped the spell, he could be decades beyond where he wanted. After the seventh increase, a light appeared, a person ran in and out, and the light went off, all in less than a second.

  Although brief, the event showed him he still moved much too slowly. Years had passed in a second on the way backward. He increased speed, counted to five, and resumed his routine.

  The next interruption lasted longer, but not long enough. It appeared to have been a formal occasion that might have taken hours. It flashed by in a second, but that meant it was taking seconds per day. At that pace it would take well more than an hour to progress a decade.

  Throwing aside his caution, he started to double the speed every three seconds. Overshooting the event was better than wasting hours trying to find it. When the flashes became so brief he couldn’t follow them, he stopped increasing.

  Without knowing why, he “felt” he was nearing the ceremony, so he began the process of slowing down to normal. The flashes of light took longer, and he soon saw bodies rushing in and out of the room. He maintained this pace as he waited for something resembling what Mother Yelsma said had happened. Soon priestesses entered and didn’t immediately leave, and he slowed time to just slightly faster than normal.

  A steady stream of new arrivals filled the room. They assumed positions in what took shape as a circle. The pace of new arrivals slowed when the gaps in the line filled up. Finally, a tall, elderly priestess entered the room carrying the small wooden chest. She wore the robe lying at the bottom of the rubble. Mother Yelsma followed a step behind Mother Ganz. The assembled clerics made room for Mother Ganz to step into the circle and Yelsma filled the hole in the line.

  Having found the right time, Farrell reached into his pocket and summoned the Ear of Lenore. Heminaltose had questioned if Seritia would let him hear what was happening, but Farrell saw no harm in trying. Either She would or wouldn’t, but nothing tried, nothing gained.

  He directed the Ear to let him hear the event. Although the priestess remained, he only heard tiny bits of sound. After a few moments, a low murmur broke the quiet. Farrell slowed his spell so time moved at a normal pace, and he could hear the prayer the priestesses chanted.

  “—essed Mother, fill us with Your presence. Help us, Blessed Mother, let us do Your will.”

  Over and over the clerics beseeched Seritia for help. Yelsma said they’d been told to ask for Seritia’s help but never knew what they needed it for. Their complete devotion to Seritia made him feel a bit guilty that he questioned every move the Six asked of him.

  Pushing these thoughts aside, he returned his attention to the ceremony. Mother Ganz stood motionless, the chest clutched protectively to her body. Her face held a mixture of determination and joy. If she knew what fate awaited her, she didn’t show any fear.

  Louder now, the prayer filled the room, reverberating off the smooth walls. Only Mother Ganz had her eyes open, and she stared at the chest. The sisters began to sway, alerting Farrell things were nearing the end. Anticipating the flash he knew was coming, he slowed time, hoping to learn something useful.

  Now swaying herself, Mother Ganz closed her eyes. She appeared halted and awkward in the slower flow of time. Keeping his gaze on the high priestess, Farrell braced himself for the flash.

  Mother Ganz’s eyes opened suddenly and looked right at him. The chanting cut off and everyone else froze in place.

  “It is not time, Chosen!” she said. “You are not ready!”

  A blinding flash hit his senses, and when he could see again, he was looking up at Heminaltose.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  Heminaltose shook his head and offered his hand to help Farrell get up. “I was going to ask you the same question.”

  “Did you see her speak to me?” Farrell replayed every detail that led up to that moment.

  “I don’t understand it, either.” Heminaltose appeared far away. “I don’t know how Mother Ganz could have known you were there. I mean, you weren’t there. And at the time that happened, they couldn’t know you’d be watching. Even the Six can’t tell the future or alter the past.”

  “She didn’t. That’s not what happened.”

  “Who didn’t and what didn’t they do?” He sounded annoyed.

  “Mother Ganz didn’t know I was there, and Seritia didn’t go back in time,” Farrell said, trying to put his thoughts into words.

  “What—?” Heminaltose closed his mouth and exhaled through his nose. When he blinked, it took longer than usual to open his eyelids. “What are you saying? We both saw Mother Ganz speak to you from the past.”

  “Did we?” Heminaltose’s neck muscles tensed, so Farrell held up a finger. “Did you notice how everything stopped right before Mother Ganz spoke to me?”

  “I did. I thought that was your doing.”

  “No, I only slowed things down. I never brought time to a stop.” He closed his eyes to relive that moment. “And at first Mother Ganz moved slower, like everyone else. Then she opened her eyes, and everyone else froze.”

  Heminaltose nodded. “Exactly. So how is it you don’t think she knew you were there?”

  “Because it wasn’t Mother Ganz who spoke to me.
It was Seritia.” Saying it out loud made him more certain he was correct.

  “That’s impossible!”

  Farrell smiled but refrained from lecturing his master on the meaning of impossible. “No, it’s what just happened. Think about it. Seritia froze the image just before I could see what happened. Then She inserted Herself into my mind and assumed Mother Ganz’s place. After She told me I wasn’t ready, She ended the spell and sent me back.”

  “The Six are forbidden to interfere.” Heminaltose didn’t sound convinced by his own argument. “If Seritia did that, She’d give Neldin the freedom to do what he wanted.”

  “But She didn’t interfere. She merely spoke to me.” Farrell let his mentor mull that for a moment. “As Neldin pointed out, all Seven may speak to me. All Seritia did was tell me it wasn’t the right time for me to see what happened.”

  “She also barred you from seeing the most important part and sent you back to the present by cutting off your spell. That sounds like direct involvement.”

  “No, it was a statement. I’m not ready. Had She given me the chest or told me how to retrieve it, that would be enough to allow Neldin to act.”

  Heminaltose paused for a moment. “What about aborting your spell? That wasn’t just a statement.”

  “I agree,” Farrell said. “And while I’m just speculating, I think the Seven are allowed to bar us from things associated with them. Like how the Eye won’t let me see what Meglar is doing. Neldin is allowed to bar me from that information. This is the same. She doesn’t want me to know what’s there. At least, not right now.”

  “But Neldin is blocking you from seeing His Champion. Seritia stopped Her Chosen from seeing something.”

  “Is there a difference?” Farrell shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m sure Seritia knows what She’s doing.”

  “I assume She does as well.” Heminaltose scanned the immediate area. “What next? I don’t think we can get what we came for.”

  Farrell sighed. There had to be a purpose to making it this difficult, but on his life, he couldn’t see what. “We go home. Seritia made it clear I’m not getting the chest or robe today.”