Mortal Gods (Mantles of Power Book 2)

by Benjamin Medrano

  “Excellent. What of our people or the captives? Are any seriously injured?” Meldrion asked, tapping his thigh rhythmically, then stopping as he heard the tapping sound it made. He didn’t want to give the impression of being nervous, when all he wanted was to laugh happily at their success.

  “We’ve had seven casualties: two serious injuries and five minor. The healers have already tended to them, and it appears that they’ll all make a full recovery,” Qorrith said, her smile vanishing. “The angels almost all sustained minor injuries, and we’ve received reports of several broken wings, though the healers are confident they’ll recover. Fourteen of the hundred angels stationed here have sustained heavy injuries, and one of them is in danger of death.”

  “That’s unfortunate. Her Majesty commanded that we take the angels alive if at all possible, so you’re to use even our most potent healing potions to bring the angel back from the brink if necessary,” Meldrion replied, his smile fading slightly at the information. He didn’t know why he’d been given the order to keep the angels alive, but he’d obey anyway. “If we can’t stop it even then, I’m certain Her Majesty will understand. But we’re to do everything possible to keep them alive.”

  “Of course, sir!” Qorrith replied, saluting sharply. Then she hesitated and asked nervously, “Do you think she’ll be pleased with what we’ve achieved, though?”

  Meldrion nodded, his enthusiasm bubbling up again as he looked up at the outpost and replied. “I think Her Majesty is going to be very pleased with us. Now then, get the soldiers to work securing the island. We’re going to be here for a while and need to be ready for any counterstrike the heavens may attempt.”

  “Sir!” Qorrith quickly rushed off to get to work, and Meldrion nodded to himself.

  It might not have been particularly fair to the defenders, with how they’d approached under the cover of invisibility, but it was the only chance that Meldrion’s soldiers had to take the fortress mostly intact and before they could send a message back to the heavens. He wasn’t sure if they’d succeeded at the latter, but the magic they’d expended had been worth it in the end. Firewatch now belonged to Estalia, and the angels within would be sent to the prison camp soon enough.

  “A bit of a pity… some of them were rather attractive,” Meldrion murmured, thinking appreciatively of a couple of the men in particular. Then he shrugged and got to work himself. It wasn’t like the outpost would organize itself, after all.

  The sky looked so strange in the hells, at least in Isalla’s opinion. She stared upward at the stars, and shivered as she saw the moon rising, closer to blood-red than white today. It was probably the clouds that did it, she knew, but it didn’t change how it made her feel uncomfortable about the sight. She missed the mortal world and heavens. She also missed Kitania, though Isalla was hesitant to express it too often, not with how Rose’s feelings were relatively unknown. She knew that Rose had liked Kitania, and insisted on rescuing her, but beyond that… Isalla wasn’t certain. That was part of the reason why she was out in the garden, watching the sky from a viewing pond, trying to decide what to do.

  That didn’t stop her from noticing the soft radiance illuminate the grass around her, even if she didn’t hear footsteps. Noticing that much, Isalla wasn’t surprised when Estalia’s voice broke the silence of the garden.

  “Are you alright, Isalla?” Estalia asked softly. Isalla looked back to see the demoness was standing only a couple of feet away, looking at her in concern.

  “Of course I’m alright. I’m safe in your palace, my wings are regrown and I’m getting back my full ability to fly, and I’ve been reunited with Rose,” Isalla replied, swallowing hard as she drank in the sight of the demon queen, her presence distracting Isalla even more thoroughly than the sky itself. She swallowed hard, then asked, “Why… why would I not be alright?”

  “Just because you’re in a good situation doesn’t mean that you’re happy, Isalla. I’ve seen how nervous you are, and how at a loss you seem at times,” Estalia replied gently, taking a step forward, then another. The queen reached out and gently brushed her fingers over Isalla’s wings, causing a shiver to run down the young woman’s spine.

  “I… I suppose so,” Isalla said, blushing as she tried to look away from Estalia, but couldn’t. After a moment of hesitation, she stood and turned to face the queen, so she wasn’t craning her neck. She licked her lips before she admitted softly, “I don’t know what to do, or what to think.”

  “Ah, I see.” Estalia’s smile faded and she shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry, Isalla. I wish I could help with that, but… I can’t. Telling you what to think is a poor idea, in my experience. It was the mistake I made with Kitania, and you’ve seen what’s happened to Eziel. Only you can decide what you need to do, or want to do. I… can try to support you. If nothing else, though, my advice is simple. You should make one small decision at a time, and go from there. Every major action is made up of many minor ones, after all.”

  “I… I suppose so,” Isalla agreed, and fell silent for a long moment, looking at Estalia as she hesitated, feeling so lonely. And after a moment, as her gaze met the deep blue of Estalia’s, she also felt temptation stirring inside her.

  Rose had said that she’d slept with Estalia once, and the look on her face had been… startling. The longing in Rose’s eyes had been unmistakable, and considering everything else, a tiny part of Isalla just wanted to experience what she had. To lose the worries that she was carrying with her every day, and to feel happy, if only for a little while.

  So Isalla made her decision, a single small one, and licked her lips before asking softly. “Your Majesty… may I kiss you?”

  Estalia blinked, obviously a little surprised, then smiled and nodded as she replied gently. “Of course you may, Isalla. If that’s what you’d like.”

  It really was a beautiful night, Isalla reflected. The sky might be strange to her, but it had its own beauty, much as Estalia had hers. So she stepped around the bench and leaned down to kiss the demon queen, to lose her worries. If only for a little while.

  Chapter 13

  “I wish I was mostly immune to drugs… or some drugs,” Kitania muttered, clutching her head as it throbbed painfully. The headache was buried deep in the forward part of her skull, and radiated through her body with every heartbeat, making her not want to move.

  The problem was that her body was immune to poisons because they damaged her body, Kitania knew. Or mostly damaged her body… some poisons could affect her, at least for a while. Diseases were something she had to be more careful about, since she could easily host them without ill effect. That was why Kitania regularly purged her body of known diseases. Drugs that altered her mind, or made her feel good? Those were an entirely different story, and her ability to heal didn’t make dealing with the aftermath any easier.

  The knock at the door caused Kitania to flinch as it aggravated her headache. She dearly wished whoever it was would go away, but that wasn’t likely to happen. If anything, it would probably encourage them to knock more, and that was very nearly the last thing she wanted. It would almost be better if someone could put her out of her misery, if that were even possible.

  Dragging herself off the bed, Kitania staggered over to the door, pausing as she realized she was almost naked. Still, she had enough on to protect her modesty, so she opened the door a crack, wincing as she heard clattering from the hallway, along with the sound of the guards shifting. Her senses were painfully heightened, she realized, and resolved to hide under her pillow the next chance she got, at least until the effect faded.

  On the other side of the door was an elven woman with a tranquil expression, one who wore a thin copper circlet to hold back her blonde hair, and she had pale hazel eyes. The woman was also wearing a set of white and deep green robes, along with a silver holy symbol shaped like a shield with a bow carved into it. The woman looked through the opening and raised an eyebrow.

  “Miss Kitania, it is nearly noon, and I n
eed to speak to you. Are you available?” the woman asked, her voice mellow enough it didn’t aggravate Kitania’s headache. Much.

  “Um, it’s that late? That drug must have really been nasty,” Kitania murmured, wincing and hesitating, then opened the door a little wider as she said, “Come in if you’d like… just keep your voice down? Please?”

  The priestess hesitated, then took a slow step into the room and closed the door behind her as she looked around, then glanced at Kitania. She seemed slightly disapproving, but spoke in the same calm tone. “Is something the matter? Aside from being drugged, of course. We confirmed that Princess Sellis was drugged last night as well.”

  “It’s also given me a splitting headache, like someone drove a pickaxe into my skull,” Kitania replied, opening the wardrobe and pulling out a skirt and top to quickly change into. She really didn’t want to think about the incident with Niadra, considering how she’d acted in front of Alserah. Kitania didn’t want to aggravate the goddess even more than she probably had. Her dress was a rumpled mess half-off its hanger, and Kitania made a note that she should take care of it when she had the mental capacity to, and after a moment she added, “No, that’s not the voice of experience, just an expression. May I ask who you are, and why you’re here? I’m afraid you have the advantage of me.”

  “I’m High Priestess Moira. I’m the administrator of all matters of faith in the Forest of Sighs,” the priestess replied calmly, looking at Kitania closely, looking slightly concerned. “My apologies for not having the drug purged last night. We didn’t believe it would be a problem.”

  “It probably isn’t that bad, but… it isn’t pleasant,” Kitania replied, heavily sitting on the bed and wincing as it creaked, sending another stabbing sensation through her skull. “Um, it’s… good to meet you, Lady Moira. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m told that you were the one to inform Her Grace about the presence of a dream spider within her mind last night, and described what it did?” Moira asked, tilting her head, her hands crossed and each hidden in the other sleeve of her robe.

  “I seem to recall that, yes. It’s a little vaguer than I’d like, but I remember the spider. Nasty little monsters,” Kitania murmured, shivering at the memory of the one she’d seen in Alserah’s eyes, a trace of fear rushing through her. “I never expected to run into someone infested here, of all places. Most places in the hells that know about them do their best to wipe them out.”

  “Based on what she said you explained, I can understand why. In any case, we’ve confirmed that we can see the spider for ourselves, and Her Grace has sent me to ask what you need for the elixir to expel it from her,” Moira explained, taking a step closer.

  “Oh, right. Probably to make sure it isn’t poisonous or something… or maybe to brew it yourselves,” Kitania murmured, taking a breath and looking around her tiny room, then asking quietly, “I don’t suppose you brought a bit of parchment and something to write with? There are at least five different recipes I know of, and I’m not sure which one will be easiest to find the ingredients for.”

  “I did, though I wasn’t expecting that many possibilities.” Moira murmured, pulling an inkwell and quill from one sleeve, and a sheet of paper from the other as she frowned. Kitania wondered where she’d kept the items, or if the woman’s sleeves were enchanted to have a magical storage space. Moira set the items on the small table, looking thoughtful.

  “I was understating the number, honestly. There are dozens, since they only require something to lull the drinker into a light slumber, a near-waking dream, and something poisonous to dream spiders. Honestly, if you have an elixir that can do the first, we could make do with any of the poisons,” Kitania replied, standing carefully and moving deliberately toward the table. She didn’t want to fall flat on her face in front of the elf. Taking the quill, she paused and thought before dipping it in the inkwell and slowly starting to write down the ingredient lists she knew.

  Kitania wasn’t lying about the number of potential recipes, either. The tribe that she’d learned from had come up with an enormous number to ensure they never had to wait to find rare ingredients, though they did have a few they’d preferred. Those were more ceremonial, and often weakened the spider when it emerged from the victim as well. Sadly, the chances of finding the ingredients for them here was essentially nonexistent.

  “Interesting. I’ll check with our alchemists to see if they have something appropriate,” Moira replied, and Kitania could practically feel the woman’s gaze on her back. It made the demon’s skin almost itch, and she tried to write a little more quickly. The sooner she was alone again, the happier Kitania would be.

  “I’m sure they’ll have a few ideas. I’m pretty sure that none of these ingredients are dangerous for elves, but I’m not certain,” Kitania replied, finishing the lists and bleeding the quill back into the inkwell. “I had a few elven patients over the years, but only a few dozen at most. None of them required treatment like this, as I recall.”

  “I hadn’t realized that you’d treated any elves. I was told that you claim to be a healer, of course, but nothing more than that,” Moira murmured, her tone ever so slightly questioning, almost doubtful.

  Kitania winced as a spike of irritation rushed through her, followed quickly by pain from her headache. She took a deep breath, corking the inkwell and picking up it and the quill to hand over to the priestess as she looked her in the eye, speaking slowly. “I have no healing magic, if that’s what you’re asking. I healed through mundane arts and alchemy, and I’ve been practicing for nearly five centuries. It’s almost inevitable that I encountered most species in that time, so yes, I’ve healed elves. I even had the opportunity to treat an angel recently. Here’s the list for you. I hope it helps Her Grace.”

  Moira stowed the inkwell and quill in her sleeves, then took the sheet when Kitania offered it to her. The priestess took her time looking it over, her expression attentive and curious. It took a few moments, then she looked up at Kitania and spoke softly. “You surprise me, Miss Kitania.”

  “Oh? Why might that be, this time?” Kitania asked, smiling thinly as she added, a little surprised at the woman’s words, “I’m sure that me regenerating qualified before.”

  “Quite,” Moira said, a smile flickering across her face, and she raised the sheet slightly as she continued. “I sincerely doubt that any of these would harm me, let alone My Lady, and if they work… I find it surprising how readily you handed them over. I had half expected you to make demands before giving them to me.”

  Kitania laughed, and immediately regretted doing so as she shook her head, cringing. Her voice was softer as she replied, a bit incredulous. “What position am I in to make demands? I suppose I could, but I don’t think it would end well for me. Besides, even if we were still at war, and me on the opposite side, I would give you the ingredients and tell you how to eliminate the dream spider. No one deserves to die like that.”

  “On that we agree. Thank you, I’ll take this to the alchemists,” Moira said, nodding slightly as she continued. “Farewell for now.”

  With that, the woman slipped out of the room, and Kitania looked at the door, then sighed softly, her headache still throbbing. After a moment she murmured, “At least she didn’t close the door hard.”

  Shaking her head carefully, Kitania headed for the wardrobe to take care of the gown. Once she’d done that, she’d hide under the pillow for a few hours until her headache receded at last. She’d rather it happened sooner than later.

  Alserah looked up as Moira entered the room, a thoughtful look on the priestess’s face. It didn’t tell Alserah what she wanted to know, but that was fine with her. Moira might not look as concerned as some of the others had when Alserah had explained what Kitania told her, but the priestess was almost more invested in dealing with the problem than Alserah was. After all, the priestess worshiped Alserah.

  “What word from the alchemists, Moira?” Alserah asked, tapping the table slowly as Hanr
ith looked over as well.

  “Their initial assessment of Kitania’s lists is that all but one of the five recipes provided are entirely harmless, and the last is likely to lead to no more than a propensity for loose bowels for a few days,” Moira replied, smiling thinly as she walked over, then stopped a few paces away to bow her head respectfully, her voice betraying a hint of relief. “They’ve also determined several common elements among the supposed poisons for the dream spider, and while they’re uncertain of the details, they all agree that the concoctions don’t appear to be fabricated. I believe that you were correct to believe Miss Kitania’s claim, My Lady.”

  “The question is what she wants for her help,” Hanrith said, his voice suspicious. “What demands did she make?”

  “An excellent question,” Alserah said, her emotions growing still colder at the tidings that Moira brought. She would almost have preferred that Kitania had been lying, since she wouldn’t have had a monster in her head for nearly a millennium.

  “None,” Moira said simply, her hands folded in front of her, and Alserah blinked in surprise.

  “Are you saying she just gave the list to you? No demands?” Hanrith asked, looking as taken aback as Alserah felt, or probably more than the goddess did. “What about requests?”

  “Again, she made no demands or requests. When I asked for the list, she simply wrote them down, and added that any elixir which placed the user into a waking dream would work, and that poisons could be added,” Moira replied, shaking her head slowly. “I was surprised by the lack of requests myself and asked her why. She said that even if we were at war, she’d do the same, because no one deserved to die like that. I’m not entirely certain I believe her, but she didn’t appear to be lying.”