The Game of the Gods

by C G Gaudet

  Out of the corner of my eye I notice one of the prisoners’ twist toward me before dropping his head again making me think he’s likely a collector, though not a very good one if he hasn’t been able to break out of the cell. He must have somehow snapped out of the trance that’s captured everyone else. I ignore him for now. He seems content enough to remain silent in his cell, so I can only hope he won’t cause us any problems.

  “Why don’t you use your pillow,” Frejha asks.

  I’m about to tell her how ridiculous she sounds when I realize she’s right. I’m the one being silly. A little sheepishly, I concentrate on the pillow, shrinking it down in my head until it fits into the lock.

  Master Key of Kesarre – Epic item Level 3

  Attack – 1

  Defence – 1

  Opens any regular lock. Can also be used to scratch faces and scare away muggers in a pinch.

  The door swings open and I let out a little cheer before I catch myself and force my face to be neutral.

  “Very good.” I give Frejha an approving nod and she flushes pink in response. “Now do you have any ideas how we can wake them up from whatever spell they’re under?”

  “You could slap them.”

  I turn toward the prisoner who spoke. It was the same guy who indicated he was a collector earlier, though now he’s standing up and leaning against the bars to get a better look at us so I guess he’s not as scared as I first thought, though clearly he’s moved on to making fun of us.

  “I’m serious,” he says as though he understands the doubtful look I give. “A jolt to the face should snap them out of it, just like waking someone up from a deep sleep.”

  “They’re friends,” Frejha says with more courage than I’ve heard from her yet. “You don’t hit your friends.”

  I ignore them both and grab Willow’s arm to try and get her attention. Her eyes land on me, but there’s a glossy look to her gaze, and after a moment’s examination, she turns away as though I’m not even worth looking at.

  Twisting back to the collector I study him for a moment to figure out if this might be a trick by one of Olerra’s people.

  Fredrick – Champion of Murja

  Level 2 Collector

  Abilities

  Magic: Inspire

  Action: Music

  “My friends call me Freddie,” he says as though he knows I’m checking him out. “I collect stories rather than items, so if you’re worried about me taking that fancy little weapon of yours, you and it are safe.”

  “That’s what a thief would say.” I eye him more suspiciously, but nothing more than the information I’d already got reveals itself to me.

  He winks. I’m not sure whether it’s supposed to be reassuring or not, but either way, there’s something about him that makes me want to listen. Besides, who doesn’t want to slap their friends every so often?

  Frejha squeaks in surprise before covering her mouth as I turn and smack Willow across the face. No reaction. I turn back to Freddie to see if he’s got any other great ideas, but he’s already got his back to us and is humming to himself.

  “Jenny?” Talie presses her hand to her head as though she’s in pain, but she shakes it off quickly. “What’s going on? Are we in a jail cell?”

  Frejha doesn’t do well at masking her disappointment. “You woke the other one. I suppose that’s good.”

  I grab Willow roughly by the arm and shove her toward Talie so she can see for herself what the problem is.

  “Willow’s in a trance, we’re underneath a battleground for champions, and I’m pretty sure I know that song,” I blurt out in a rush.

  I turn to Freddie who notices I’m staring at him mid-whistle. He lets the note hang in the air for a moment before clearing his throat.

  “I could sing you the words if that would help you remember,” he offers. “But it’s meant to be sung along with a lute so don’t expect it to be perfect.”

  I shake my head, unsure how else to react to the casual offer of a song in a moment like this before turning back to Talie. She’s giving Willow’s shoulders a shake, but there’s no response.

  “How did you wake me?” She doesn’t seem to be able to wrench her eyes away from Willow’s blank stare. “Why not do the same with her?”

  Without warning, I smack Talie in the face and then turn to stare at Willow expectantly.

  “What was that for?”

  Talie clutches her face though I know I didn’t do any damage to her, while Willow does nothing.

  “The summer was long

  When their love was strong.

  Their sighs and their kissin’

  Made lonely eyes glisten.”

  I hum along to Freddie’s soft voice, trying to think of the next words before he says them. “I definitely know that song from somewhere. What’s it called?”

  He pauses to give me an apologetic look. “I collect songs, not names I’m afraid.”

  I try to forget about it and focus on getting Willow to break out of this spell, but he continues, dragging my attention away from the task at hand.

  “Till one jealous heart

  Tore them apart.”

  “Ugh,” I interrupt his flourish of the last word. “This is going to make me crazy. What is the name?”

  “A season for love.” Everyone turns to Willow whose eyes twitch back and forth as though she’s reading something far away. “Written by Lisa Pauper during the reign of King Pompus III.” She smiles as her eyes focus properly on me. “There were those who believed the song to be about the king, his wife and the bard, especially considering the mysterious death of the queen during the bard’s tenure in the castle. Lisa always maintained her songs were for the gods themselves as nothing less was worthy of songs.”

  “You’re back.”

  Talie throws her arms around Willow’s neck to hug her tightly, nearly choking her in the process. Frejha soon follows, surprising the other girls, but earning an embrace all the same.

  I leave the three to chat and introduce Frejha to Talie and make my way over to Freddie’s cage.

  “You knew that would wake her, didn’t you?”

  His lips curl, but his smile is far from smug. There’s too much sadness in his expression for me to be annoyed. “I had a theory,” he admits. “You helped me confirm it to be true.”

  “And your theory is…”

  “Even while mesmerized, your mind has certain interests that can’t be held back. For me, I woke when I heard a guard poorly humming a song. My mind had to wake to sing it properly. Your white knight friend can’t help but want to protect someone she cares about, even from something as benign as a slap. A true scholar can’t help but share their knowledge with others.”

  “What about me?” I ask. “I can understand the others, but I have no interests that I’m aware of.”

  He crosses his arms over his chest and thinks for a moment. “I can’t say my theory is perfectly formed, but if I’m right, perhaps you saw something or someone who sparked an emotion you didn’t know you possessed. I can’t be sure though, since I didn’t see you awaken.”

  My mind flashes back to the looming figure of the goddess watching over the pit with a cruel smile stretched across her face. I don’t know why seeing her would make me feel anything beyond a normal amount of fear for seeing a goddess, but something deep within me knows there’s more to my unease than that.

  “Now that you’ve woken your friends,” the bard casually says while picking at his fingernails. “What do you plan to do next?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Plotting with the Enemy

  “We don’t need your help,” I say to Freddie while turning away from his cell, “if that’s what you’re hinting at. We have our scholar back now, so we’re perfectly fine without a know-it-all bard.”

  “Collector,” he corrects. “I was never accepted to the Academy of Musicians.”

  I must make a face to show I have no idea what he’s talking about even though I�
��m trying very hard to ignore him, because he goes on to explain.

  “To be considered a bard, you must have graduated from the Academy, or else you’re simply a musician. Or in my case, a collector.”

  “Fascinating.” I roll my eyes to let him know I think it’s anything but.

  “What’s fascinating is that key of yours,” Freddie calls to me as I start to head back to Willow and the others.

  His words cause me to pause, though I’m not sure why I care. He’s stuck in a cell, so no matter how interested he might be in my pillow, he has no way of taking it from me, and that’s the only thing that really matters.

  “An epic level item from a low-level god is rare enough,” he continues, “but one with such a unique gift of being able to change it’s shape at will is nearly unheard of. I wonder how he could have managed to create such an item if he’s truly so weak.”

  An anger I never expected bubbles within my chest and drives me back over to the cell. I find myself shifting the key into a blade, as though I’m about to attack him through the bars, though I don’t entirely understand why I’m so mad. Kesarre means nothing to me. He dropped into my life unwanted and threw me into this danger without so much as asking if I had any interest in becoming his champion. He’s done nothing but give me cryptic information and throw us all into further danger, and yet I can not stand the thought of anyone other than myself saying anything remotely bad about him.

  I can’t possibly care about the ridiculous god. Can I?

  “What are you trying to say about Kesarre?” I force my hand with the blade to stay at my side even though I have an unreasonable desire to threaten him with it, especially when he doesn’t flinch at my approach. “Are you accusing him of cheating?”

  “Certainly not.” At least Freddie has the sense to know not to push his luck. “All I mean to say is a god with powers to make a weapon like that is one I personally would like to have on my side.”

  “You can’t change gods, if that’s what you mean.” Willow leads the others to stand behind me. She doesn’t look nearly as angry as I feel about the way this guy is talking about our god, which makes me once again question why I’m so worked up. “Once you’ve become a champion, you are dedicated to that god until your death or your god decides to release you. It’s the rules.”

  “A loyal champion would never want to leave their goddess in the first place,” Talie adds with more than a hint of distaste for the collector. “As a champion, your deity becomes your heart.”

  “I never said I would like to break from my sweet Murja,” Freddie says. “I only hoped we could become friends.”

  I snort and gesture toward the door. “Let’s go before someone sees us.” Another laugh forces its way from my hollow chest. “Friends. How stupid do you think we are? All you care about is my key.”

  “A glorious key it is,” he admits while looking down at the blade in my hand.

  I make my way toward the exit with the others trailing a little too slowly for my liking. They keep looking over their shoulders to the collector as though they feel bad leaving him, particularly Frejha, who hesitates next to his cell for a long moment.

  “We could defeat her,” he shouts once I’m out the door. My plan to ignore him is hindered when my feet betray me and turn back toward the room so I can better hear what he has to say. “The goddess Olerra has been manipulating the game by forcing champions to fight unfair battles for her amusement. The other gods can’t be happy about what she’s doing. I’m sure they would work together to put her in her place if they could.”

  I silently think over what I’ve seen. Champions barely in command of themselves being forced to fight for their lives. If they were as controlled as I when I first fought Frejha, they might not even know they’re killing anyone, and if Frejha is right and the goddess is using her own people to wipe out those with lower abilities in order to get stronger, then she’s likely done significant damage to many gods’ rankings. Maybe even Kessare had champions here before. He could have brought us here to figure out what happened to the others.

  Or maybe he’s a fool and has no idea what’s happening here and simply brought us because he heard it was a good place to shop. It’s hard to tell with that guy.

  “The land is consecrated,” Frejha says. “No god beyond Olerra can set foot in this city. Or, that’s what I heard, though maybe I’m wrong.”

  I give her an encouraging nod. “Kesarre would have said something to us by now if he was able. I’m sure of that much.”

  ‘Right, Kesarre?’ I ask in my mind to be sure. No response. Not even a hint of that invasive laugh of his.

  “Break the consecration and the others will come,” Freddie says. “And I know how to do it. All you need to do is let me help you.”

  The metal bars obscure part of the bard's face, but I feel sure he's telling the truth. He knows how to defeat the goddess, I’m just not sure I trust his motives, or if he has a plan that won’t get us all killed.

  There are probably tactful ways of getting more information from him without committing to anything. I could ask some loaded questions to drag the truth out of him. Instead, I stick to my strengths.

  “I don't like you and I don't trust you.”

  And I walk away.

  Willow makes her way to his cage rather than follow, so I'm forced to stop on the ramp heading back to our favourite caster or leave her behind, defeating the purpose of coming.

  “You’re a collector?”

  Willow holds her book a little too tightly to her chest which has the opposite effect than the one I'm sure she's hoping for. Freddie glances at the book, his eyebrows rising for a moment before focusing on her face once more.

  “Collector of songs and stories.” He bows deeply, raising with a wink to Frejha, who’s timidly standing behind Willow. “I promise I have no interest in anything shiny or magical,” he adds with a pointed look toward the book. “But if you ever want to share details from that tome, I’d be forever grateful. It looks to hold many stories.”

  Willow’s face darkens and her interest in the bard clearly fades fast. Perfect. We can move along now.

  “You know the story of the fighting pit then?” Frejha boldly asks before her face flushes at the attention her words bring.

  “I've heard a tale or two, as it seems you have.” She bows her head to avoid his gaze and he takes mercy and focuses back on me. “The goddess is known as the deity of deception and it’s believed the gods themselves don’t trust her. She used to travel the lands of both gods and mortals, leaving death and destruction in her wake.

  “Thirty years ago, her wanderings stopped abruptly, and no one understood why. Some of the gods became worried, for they knew she would never stop bringing chaos to the land, even for a short time, unless she was using the period to develop a plan.

  “They sent their champions to the mortal city she was rumored to be hiding in in order to discover her scheme. None of those champions ever returned to tell their tales. If they lived, they did so forever more in the city limits, hidden from their gods by the goddess’ power. If they died, well, even in death they did not return to their god’s side.”

  “I’ve seen champions die,” Frejha whispers. “If they don’t return to their previous lives as they’re supposed to, what happens to them?”

  Freddie shakes his head to show he doesn’t know any more than we do. “Perhaps death is final here for champions, just as it is for all those not touched by the gods. Or perhaps she collects the spirits of the dead and uses them for her own nefarious plans. That information I’ve not been able to collect in my time here. The one thing that's for sure is the goddess seems to be twisting the game of the gods for her own entertainment, weakening other gods to near oblivion by taking out their strongest believers, and in doing so giving her own champions more power.”

  The scythe suddenly feels impossibly heavy as I stare down at the reflection of the blade. If the gods know something is wrong in the city and never h
ear from the champions they send here, then what was Kesarre thinking throwing us into this mess without any warning?

  Willow meets my gaze and I can tell she's thinking the same thing.

  “Perhaps he has faith in our abilities?” Her voice wobbles as though even she doesn't believe it’s possible.

  “If he wanted us to come back alive, he would have given us more time to strengthen our skills. Or at least a warning.”

  “What could she be planning?” Talie says to the other two who haven't noticed Willow’s and my conversation. Maybe it's best they don't. At least Frejha could feel better knowing she was dragged here by one of the goddesses’ minions, but Talie might not like it that Kesarre is sacrificing her when he's not even her god.

  “She's creating an army,” Frejha says in a thoughtful tone. “That must be why she sends champions out to create traps like the spice shop. The gods probably aren't sending enough champions here to level the ranks of her people. She needs more.”

  “But the strength of the gods doesn't rely on champions alone. There are other believers as well. Plenty of them,” Talie says. “She can't plan to take out everyone who doesn’t worship her.”

  “She wouldn’t need to kill them if she can convert them to worship her,” Freddie reasons. “You were right when you said champions can’t change the god they are connected to, but it’s much easier for the rest of the population. Between mind control and the threat of death if they don’t comply, I could see huge numbers of worshipers converting their beliefs.”

  There’s silence for a moment as everyone sinks into their personal thoughts.

  “We have to stop her,” Talie says with the righteousness of a white knight. If there was any sunlight down here, I'm sure it would be shining down on her, causing her armor to sparkle.

  Willow and I exchange another glance as I'm sure we both have the same thought about our chances if we run. Neither of us was religious before this was thrown in our laps, there’s no need to start now. I don’t mind the powers Kesarre granted us, and chasing a few rats and skeletons was all well and good, but no one said anything about going up against a god.