This caused an uproar. Many gods began to shout, but Gannix was able to calm everyone by slamming a gavel on the ground.
“We shall observe order within this hall!” Gannix shouted. “Greater Gods have right of first response, followed by their allies, then intermediates, and then lesser.”
“Yither may speak whenever he pleases!” Yither added.
“And Gannix may infect your avatar’s lungs again,” Gannix threatened. This was enough to get the trickster god to quiet down.
Turm was the first to speak. “You lay a great charge against Agara, World Tree. But you are mistaken.” He pointed over to a withered hag, an Intermediate God whose name I did not know. “Serelda stewards over cruelty and injury. The power is within her domain.”
“Aye,” Serelda said.
Agara laughed a little. “You are mistaken, World Tree. And in your mistake, you have sentenced yourself to death, for I will not have my good name smeared.”
It was as I had suspected. The oath that Rignus had made everyone swear did not affect Agara. Rignus was an Intermediate God, after all. His power could probably reign in the Lesser Gods, or other intermediates, but to affect the greater?
“I have not finished my case yet, Agara,” I said. “For these scrolls are in my possession. I have evidence with me that you have given your followers the power to kill unbelievers.”
“No god may read another’s scrolls!” Emerhilk shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “It was agreed upon to prevent any more conflicts.”
“You would deny evidence that condemns Agara for her lies?”
“Even if you were to prove that Agara has a fourth domain,” Eflora said, her butterfly avatar floating next to the Mistmother, “what would it prove?”
And now it was time for the hardest part of the argument. “It would prove that Agara is an impostor.”
There was a dead silence amongst the gods. Even Agara said nothing for this represented one of the greatest crimes that could be committed by a god.
Vrniac, god of arbitration and mediation, finally spoke from his place in one of the balconies. “These are serious charges. But we must take them into account, World Tree. What evidence do you have of this?”
“In the second great war of the gods, in which Agara and the other four at the table banded together and formed an alliance, she was pierced with the Holy Spear of Izguril,” I said. “According to the scrolls of her history, that Spear did not belong to Izguril, but was in fact the god of deception of the time.”
Knerl, the current god of deception, interjected. “But he died.”
“He falsified his death, giving up his lesser, weak domain,” I explained. “And he infested Agara’s avatar. Tell me, Knerl, were you given the domain of cruelty?”
Knerl shook his head. “No, it was lost in the chaos. The hag Serelda later rose to power for her despicable acts in her mortal life.”
“Did she?” I asked, my voice echoing through the entire halls. “Or did the imposter give Serelda a piece of the cruelty domain, to hide this deception?”
All eyes turned to Serelda. This was the missing link to the puzzle. As a Lesser God, she did not have the same power as Agara. She could not lie.
“Well?” Vrniac asked. “Is what the World Tree claims true? Did Izguril grant you the power of cruelty and raise you as a god to protect his false identity?”
Serelda sighed and lowered her head. “These claims are…” Her withered, tar-like face contorted as the words forced themselves out of her mouth. “True. Agara came to me in a vision one night, when I was but a mortal. She told me that she would give me great power and a seat at the gods’ realm, as long as I did as she wished. My many cruel deeds had condemned me; should I have not taken the deal, I would have been condemned to live as a devil.”
There were gasps from the gods. All eyes turned to look at Agara, who merely shrugged. “How did it take you all this long to figure it out?” she asked, laughing a little. “I killed Agara long ago and took her domains.”
“Why the deception?” Turm asked.
Agara merely smiled at him. “I don’t have to answer that. My reasons are my own.”
“You have violated our very laws,” Vrniac shouted.
“Your laws are what makes you weak and foolish,” Izguril, controlling the avatar of Agara, replied. “Following oaths? Hah. I have gained tenfold the amount of power that Agara could have ever attained with her own kindness. Do you know how much mortals rely on you for healing? For blessing them so they don’t die when giving birth to a baby? She was so merciful and giving to everyone. They didn’t even have to worship her to receive these blessings. But I changed that.”
Agara’s body contorted and shifted, back into the shape of Izguril: a tall, elven noble who wore a cloak of shadows. He radiated his divine energy, which was strong enough to push back several of the Intermediate Gods away from their seats.
“Four domains!” he cried out. “The cruel and evil worship me. The desperate and dying worship me. I have more power than any of you. Come to my side, loyal allies!”
And with that, many Lesser Deities and Intermediates rushed to their master’s side. Many of them were newer gods, mortals who had been raised up. Even Emerhilk climbed from his seat and walked over to Izguril.
“If it is a war you seek, then let us fight it now!” Izguril taunted. “Otherwise, leave me to my devices. I have no quarrel with anyone but the world tree.”
Turm was the first to stand and draw his weapon, a brilliant hammer composed of sunlight itself. “Now this is what I’m talking about! Let’s get this party started!”
“Calm yourselves!” I bellowed, making sure that my words echoed deeply in the hall. “Wanton war and violence is not how you conduct your lives in this age, is it?”
Vrniac agreed with my words. “The Great Tree is right. We have laws and procedure. Let it be known to all gods here, that Izguril has been found guilty of a great crime. To ally or stand by his side is to accept the same fate as he.”
I could see a glance come across Emerhilk’s face, a look of concern. He was an ally of Izguril, I knew, because Agara had been the one to aid him in defeating the orcgod so long ago. At least, Emerhilk had believed it was Agara who was helping him. But was he willing to risk his own divinity and place of power to aid a liar and a fiend?
“I have a way,” I whispered, using the power of Glym’s silence spell to ensure no one else could hear my words except for the human god. “I can seal Izguril away. They will not hold you responsible for his treachery. Aid me and free yourself from the debt you owe to the False Healer.”
Emerhilk’s mind pressed back to me. “You are making a dangerous play here, Tree. You risk everything within you, just for revenge?”
“Not revenge,” I replied. “But freedom. As long as Izguril lusts for power, I will always contend with him, just as you always will. I simply wish to be left alone. Aid me, lend me your divine power, and I shall ensure that he is trapped, unable to escape.”
During my private chat, the rest of the gods had moved to the debate hall, structured so that two or more arguing sides could sit in their own sections, to make their cases. Izguril and his ilk, five Intermediate Gods and seven Lesser Gods, along with Emerhilk, were sitting on one side, and the rest were all unified on the other. Only Rignus sat in the judge’s bench above them all, to cast judgment and to hear arguments.
It was a joy to see them so effortlessly understand my designs and use them. It was not really the time for me to admire my craftsmanship and handiwork, but I still took a moment to soak in the scene. Even if I were to die horribly after this exchange, at least I got to see my end goal. I got to see the gods hold court upon one of my branches, just as my Mother Tree did.
Vrniac, sitting beside Rignus on a smaller bench, was busy reciting precedent and law, speaking of the many agreements made between all gods. Izguril countered by claiming that he had never made such oaths. On
ly Turm seemed to be in a rush to skip the arguments and go straight into war. They all knew the cost of another gods’ war, even a smaller one. And they all had the good sense to avoid it.
“You wish freedom?” Emerhilk said. “Then you should have kept to yourself. Izguril is exacting in his revenge. He will not be pleased to lose so many followers because of your actions.”
“Oh, he will lose a great many followers, Emerhilk,” I replied. “But what happens when a god loses so many at once?”
There was silence for a moment. “I see your point. He will weaken considerably.”
“Indeed. And if there is a war, who is to say he will prevail? Do you wish to be upon that sinking vessel?”
“Yet there will be a war,” Emerhilk replied. “The gods will vote to punish Izguril and he will say no to that punishment. Then we shall fight.”
“I have a way around a war, but I need your power to do so,” I explained. “I need all of the other four’s aid, but if I can convince you, it will not take much effort to convince the others.”
Emerhilk was curious about what I meant by having a way around the war. I was quick to share my plan with him, the dungeon below, the vaults, the traps meant to seal him away. All I needed was just a boost, a simple influx of power into my teleportation spell, then we would have all the time we needed to vote on Izguril’s fate.
“I am curious as to whether you are mad, or simply smarter than the rest of us,” Emerhilk said, once I had finished. By this time, Vrniac had almost finished speaking the ceremonial poem of law. It was fortunate that these entities did not look at time the same way mortals did, or else they would have been engaged in a full-fledged war by now. “But, I find your plan curious enough to try it. On one condition. Should I make enemies in the future, ones that must be sealed away, you would construct more of these prisons for me?”
I pondered that proposal. I was no jail keeper, nor did I wish to be seen as a place for the gods to dump all of their trash. Sealing Izguril away was a means of self-defense, to protect me from his cruelty and his devices. I could not simply allow myself to be considered as a tool for any god who wished me to do their dirty work.
“No,” I replied. “That is not my purpose or my intention. I am not asking you to aid me solely for my own benefit. If you act now, you will be seen as wise and savvy, waiting until the opportune time to strike down a lawbreaker. If you aid Izguril, you are settling your fate as an ally to a liar and a swine. When the Agarans hear of Izguril’s treachery, they will hear of yours as well. Do you wish to be viewed by your followers as a friend of the one who killed the goddess of mercy and healing?”
“They will know whatever we tell them when we have won the war,” Emerhilk said.
“They will hear whatever I wish them to, for as far as I loom above the land, so my voice can be carried into every ear that can hear,” I replied. This was not really true, but how would he know? I could potentially develop a spell to speak to many mortals at once, but I would need time, and if Emerhilk did not aid me I would not have enough power to seal my foe in for good. I’d be dead well before the chance to do as I threatened.
“You are ruthless and cunning, Great Tree. I shall provide you the power you wish. But be quick about it, Izguril still holds the domains and loyalties of his people. He will be faster than you anticipate.”
At once, I felt a powerful surge of divine energy course through me. Emerhilk’s orange aura was beginning to seep into my very body, granting me reserves of magic I thought not possible. Was this what it was like to have even a taste of the gods’ power? No wonder Izguril was obsessed with gaining as much of it as possible.
I turned my energies to Izguril, who was smugly watching the rest of the gods, a defiant smirk upon his face. Something told me that everything that was unfolding in front of him was part of some master plan. Some clever plan to gain even more power. But I don’t think he suspected that I would be the one to throw everything into chaos.
I charged up my now divine teleportation spell and focused it towards him. A flash of orange energy washed over the False Agara, and in an instant he was gone.
“Curses!” Turm shouted, hopping to his short, stubby feet. “The damned liar has escaped!”
“No,” Emerhilk said as he strolled passed Vrniac and stood in the center of the room to address all within. “No, I don’t think he did.”
Chapter 40
Izguril was drawn into the Vault of the False as soon as the spell warped around him. The first part of the plan was completed, but now there was still so much left to do. I had to convince the rest of the Greater Five to aid me, I had to ensure that Izguril was sufficiently trapped and I needed to make sure that I had enough time to do both.
One benefit I did not foresee from Emerhilk’s aid was that I found it much easier to divide my consciousness between two separate areas at the same time. I had the full level of awareness and attention in both the dungeon and the gods’ court. It was an interesting experience, but now that I understood how it worked, I believed that I could replicate this on my own—without the need of additional divine magic.
Izguril fell to the ground and the spear spell snapped off, firing into his back, pinning him to the floor.
“Urg!” Izguril cried out as the force of the spell enveloped him. He was on his knees, wincing for a moment. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see that he was still inside the first room. “What manner of trickery is this? Which god agreed to give you this spell?” he shouted to me.
“You are not the only one capable of bending or breaking rules,” I replied. “A god entrusted them to me to protect and, well, this is one aggressive method of self-defense, is it not?”
Izguril stood to his feet and dusted himself off. He examined his hand for a moment. “Curious, you have made me corporeal here. Do you intend to have me run about in your little maze? Participating like a cute little adventurer? Do I get a treasure chest once I reach the end?”
I said nothing to him. I merely watched him. “I can sense your thoughts, you know,” Izguril said. I knew for a fact that he could not. The silence spell would keep me safe, and with Emerhilk’s divine influence I doubted my mind was penetrable either way. “Oh yes. You are afraid. Afraid of what I would do to you should I break free. Afraid of the consequences for your actions.”
I continued to be silent. This seemed to infuriate him to no end. He gritted his teeth and shouted at me. “Rest assured, I will break you to pieces, branch by branch. But not before I slay each and every goblin within. Oh yes, you thought I didn’t know of your band of friends living here? Filthy, wretched creatures. I will kill them all.”
This, of course, would not happen, as the goblins were currently safe within Castle Soren, far away from all of the chaos. The king was honorable enough to respect my wishes to keep my subjects safe and he swore on his honor that he would not allow any harm to come to any goblin within his kingdom.
“You are the one who’s afraid,” I replied. He had yet to move from this room. Did he sense the other traps within? Or was he waiting for the spell to wear off? I was unsure of how long the spell would last, as if he did focus his energy, he could potentially weaken it. But doing so would still take his valuable time.
“Unlikely. I’ve lived in this realm for a hundred thousand years, while you’ve barely been here for a century,” Izguril said, turning his attention to the door leading into the second realm. “I shall be here long after the world’s memory of you has faded.”
“Yet you do not venture forth,” I replied.
“Do not confuse my savviness with distress,” Izguril replied, swirling his cloak over his body. A thin film of greyish energy enveloped him. It was a spell of protection, I could sense. Meant to defend himself from all forms of divine energy. And it was powerful, almost as strong as he was. “I know you wish to kill me. And I am intent on preventing that.”
I did not correct his fears. I merely watched as h
e made his way through to the second room. At once, the Sanity Siphon began to work, but as I had thought the spell of protection kept the magic from affecting Izguril. I would need a great force to be able to break that spell, something beyond what Emerhilk had provided to me.
Fortunately, the puzzle captured Izguril’s attention. “Oh ho, you wish to seriously pit me against a test of wit and logic?” He laughed as he turned to face the wall of tiles. “And you chose a novelty game that the humans play? Oh, you are most pathetic. But still…” he trailed off as he began to mumble to himself, focusing on moving the tiles around. It seemed the god of deception liked to play games. This was a good sign.
Above my branches, while Izguril struggled in vain to solve a puzzle that could not be solved, I watched as Emerhilk spoke to the rest of the gods.
“It is my judgment that imprisonment is best,” he finished, before giving way to other speakers to respond to his thoughts.
“Imprisonment?” Turm shouted. “Bah, let us go down to the vault, each grab a hold of Izguril’s limbs and pull until there is nothing left of him!”
“A stirring proposal,” the Mistmother said. “But we do have his immense power to contend with.”
“You are the goddess of visions, are you not?” I asked, in a voice for all to hear. The remaining allies of Izguril, all of whom looked uncertain, shifted at the sound of my words. Perhaps they worried that I would be imprisoning them too.
“I am,” the Mistmother said, her body shifting into a less and less corporeal form by the moment, choosing instead to take upon the image of fog.
“Then use your power to speak truth to the clergy of Agara,” I replied. “You have enough time as it is.”
“It is not my policy to interfere with others to such a degree,” she replied. The fog began to disperse. “With news of her death,” the Mistmother’s voice echoed, “this alliance is dissolved. I answer to no one once more.”
I silently cursed her name as she faded. Her immense power to gift knowledge and visions of the past and future would have made it so much easier to weaken Izguril. But now? Now I would have to contend with a god who was still powered by the millions who worshipped him.
Tree Dungeon Page 22
