When he struck the plain, he shattered into a billion motes of light that spread through the dark and lit it with a gentle glow.
Cord descended, shrinking until the size of a man again.
They winked at me.
“Did I ever teach you Camor’s Third Rule, girl?”
I shook my head. They reached out and offered me their hand and I took it, the glow from Their flesh suffusing me, repairing the damage the dragon had done. I stood before Cord—Camor.
“In the end, it’s all smoke and mirrors,” They said.
I stood beside Them, watching the broken stars of Oros fall. A hand slipped into mine.
“Is that it, then?” I asked.
“Should there be more?”
I thought about the coffers we’d missed out on. I wondered what good all that money would do me now, anyway. I shook my head. “No. I think this was enough.”
They nodded and were silent again. I broke it a few minutes later, as the light faded.
“What now?”
“Ah. That’s up to you.”
“How so?”
“It’s always been up to you.”
I turned to look at Them, and in Their place, Cord stood again. He wore a gentle half-smile.
“Free will,” I said.
He nodded. “About time you got it.”
I looked out at the darkening plain one last time.
“I’ve got a plan,” I said.
The light winked out, and in the dark, Cord’s laughter.
Happily Never After
You probably want a happy ending. The rebels took the city, the dark lord was defeated, everyone saw the error of their ways, and the people lived happily ever after. Sure, let’s go with that. I can’t tell you everything because I don’t know everything. I do know I woke up in a field, with a gorgeous blonde beside me, and stalks of wheat tickling my cheek. Two bags of coins sat beside us, bright gold, stamped with the seal of Vignon. Enough to build two lifetimes on. I wondered when Cord managed that and shrugged.
Did it matter?
Something rustled when I moved, and I reached into a pocket, came away with a sheet of paper. I unfolded it, smoothing the crinkles, and read, Cord’s spidery hand crawling across the page.
Nenn,
If you’re reading this, someone fucked up somewhere. This isn’t an easy life, or an easy world, and shit happens. If I were a good father, or even a competent one, I’d have something to say here, some pithy advice that would shore you up on the hard days, brighten the dark ones. Be sure to bathe and shave. Eat your greens. I’d add don’t play with knives, but it’s a little late for that. Don’t lick weird things.
In all my lifetimes, I only wanted to do the right thing. Even if it looked like the wrong thing at the time. I’m hoping at the least I gave you enough to look up to the clouds and see the sun fighting to break through.
We move through the world like shooting stars across the sky. Brief, burning bright. The best we can hope for is to split the darkness.
Of all the things I’ve done, across the lives I’ve lived, you’re the one I’m the proudest of. I hope you know that. I hope you know I loved you even when you couldn’t know.
Live this life.
Cord
I tucked it away and blinked back tears that threatened to fall, then looked over at Lux. She woke and smiled.
Later, in the night, I piled stones high, and placed four gold coins at its base.
“Thanks, old man,” I said to no one in particular.
I placed one silver at the cairn’s peak and whispered to the dark as it crowded in close.
“Our debt is cleared, Mother.”
And somewhere in the night, laughter, cool and clean and free.
Epilogue
Beads of sweat rolled from Rez dan Spez’s spine, along the long curvature of his tawny flesh, before trickling across the wrinkled sole of his right foot, pausing to hang from one long toe before falling, coming to splash against the tiles of the Cloisters of Frustration.
He’d finally achieved the Seventh Posture of Der’Son and felt the magic churn in him like the lentils he’d had for lunch. He groaned inwardly, and his guts echoed the sound.
“Not again,” Ram dan Anil muttered, and ducked behind a tall plinth of granite.
A moment later, Rez dan Spez exploded as he released the Pneuma of Mac’Lell. Gobbets of fledgling mage rained from the sky. Ram dan Anil heaved a sigh.
“I lose more apprentices that way.”
Rrn dan Ith interrupted his musing.
“What do you suppose all that was about, then?” he asked.
“The explosion?”
“No, all this,” and he waved a hand in the vague direction of this book.
“Hmph. The Plot,” Ram dan Anil muttered.
“What?”
“I haven’t a fucking clue. I just work here,” Ram dan Anil said. A pounding at the door interrupted their conversation, and he headed to open it.
The man standing there was the size of a mountain. A cat wove between his feet. He looked confused, and a little tired. Ram dan Anil smiled.
“Welcome back, brother,” he said.
The big man stepped inside, the cat purring at his heels.
Notes
What came before
1 This is not what happened at all. Is the syphilis in the soft part of your brain now? -N
The Bitch is Back
1 A mime bit my sister once.
2 She was really pissed about it, but kept quiet.
I don’t get it. Was she a mime zombie? -N
You’re a constipator, you know that? -C
Meaning? -N
You disturb my shit. -C
3 But she could write it in the first book. Weird, right?
4 And a thing called an ‘accordion’, but the crowd turned on that guy pretty quick and now he honks when he farts.
5 “But how,” you ask, “do they have loveseats in a fantasy novel?” “Isn’t that an anachronism?” “It’s ruining my immersion!” Look, someone just shoved an accordion up a guy’s ass a page before, and he didn’t die. Why weren’t you worried about the guy who got a musical enema? The three-thousand dead mimes? But couches bother you? Have you called your mother? She might want to have a talk.
6 I would’ve gone with watermelons. That’s an old joke. Remind me to tell you some time.
7 Aw, you ruined the joke.
8 That’s hurtful. I am a delight.
9 Phalluses? Phallusis? Multiple dicks.
10 You can imagine the smell. Sweaty men, dirty laundry, hot metal, and roast food. Like pickled socks. I question her judgement in this case.
Awkward Reintroductions
1 Look for my book: Profiting from Narcissistic Sociopaths by Feeding Them to Unspeakable Horrors.
2 Cue Take My Breath Away.
3 I prefer reality-challenged
4 Their other motto is ‘Hubba hubba bang bang squirt shame’
Tug Meat, So Sweet
1 I never did the hang of marketing Tug sausage
2 I sure hope someone appreciates the craftsmanship in the above note. You see, the joke is a double penis pun. Sausage and hang. And I’m referencing meat, so I guess it’s three layers. Like a trifle. Boy, trifles are delicious. Except when it’s fish and whipped cream. Don’t eat those. Anyway, penis pun. Carry on
3 OH SNAP. I did not see that coming
Hard Magic and Swingin’ Dicks
1 If you replace the word ‘magic’ with the word ‘dick’ in every debate about whether a magic system should be hard or soft, people will cut that shit out real quick. And don’t get me started on the whole idea of a ‘system’ of magic. You use systems to bake and measure, not to describe the wonder of a star fall or the feeling of a lover’s heart against your chest or the stampeding rage of an inferno. This is storytelling, not engineering. You want a bridge built, ask an engineer. You want to hear about how this shit feels? Ask a storyteller. Now get outta here,
you scamp. And try not to collapse any bridges.
Whew. This got serious.
Okay, a joke: What do you call nine heads stuffed into a duffel bag?
I don’t know either, but you might not want to look in the closet.
Bon Jovi Sucks
1 I totally lied. It was a great story.
2 You’re not supposed to let it simmer for six hours, ya tree.
3 I’m fairly sure this is proof the gods hate us.
Of Death and Dr. Porkenheimer’s Boner Juice
1 Unique up on it. Wait, wrong punchline.
2 MEATIER.
Sedicilicious
1 Ever seen a pair of dinner rolls rise in an oven? Like that, but with less of a ssssssss sound.
I Couldn’t Fuck A Gorilla
1 This is stupid. You know it’s stupid. I know it’s stupid. Let’s move on.
2 Yes, I speak goose. You wouldn’t believe how often murder comes up in those conversations.
3 The decline of civilization is sure to be heralded by idiots decrying the decline of civilization.
4 You parse Vignon.
5 I got a gorilla and he won’t be true.
6 The original punishment consisted of a small herd of poodles. It wasn’t pretty. Not that this is, but it seems more civilized, somehow.
Goddamn Nuns
1 Gret has never forgiven me for that one.
Fantucci’s Undead Wonderland
1 Teenage mutant ninja freakshow.
Teeth! Teeth! Teeth!
1 Fun fact: pigs will eat just about anyone.
Mommy Issues
1 She’s a massive bitch. But I digress.
Bow Chicka Bow Wow
1 Imagine a mountain shitting.
2 I spend every day trying not to imagine Rek’s flaps.
We’ve Got the Biggest Balls of Them All
1 Fascists are fascists no matter where they lay their disgusting eggs.
Showdown
1 I am very eloquent.
About the Author
Clayton Snyder is the author of Child of Nod, currently splitting his time between work and writing. He has worked as a system admin, developer, and project manager and authored several short stories, his most recent, “Mother Time, Father Death’, at Helios Quarterly. His literary influences include Roger Zelazny, Anna Smith Spark, and Richard Kadrey.
Born and raised in Michigan, Clayton is a North Dakota transplant currently living in Bismarck with his wife, two dogs, and a cat. He participates in several charitable works, including the Brave the Shave event for research for childhood cancer, and the local Humane Society.
You can find Clayton at claytonwsnyder.com.
Also by Clayton Snyder
River of Thieves
The Obsidian Psalm
The Infernal Machine
Child of Nod
Upcoming Books:
Queen of Nod
Goddess of Nod
Thieves' War Page 23