Dark Gods Rising

by Mark Eller

Chapter 15— The God’s Thief

  In the distant land of Illian, South, across the Sea of Phantoms, Fox walked down the empty stone corridors of Oria, hidden beneath the mountains of Sorrow. Deep in its bowels in an intricate cave system, dwelled the thieves’s guild of Illian. Hundreds of thieves called the magically altered nooks and crannies home, making the atmosphere comfortable. It was one of the few places Fox could relax enough to get a good night’s sleep. The only trouble was she wasn’t presently getting a good night’s sleep. She hadn’t gotten a good hour’s sleep since arriving four days earlier.

  “Damn, Dakar,” she muttered. “I can’t believe he actually wants me to repay him for the favor.” Of course, the favor in question had been saving her life. “No matter. I still have the right to ask for a boon from the bastard, even if I do owe him.”

  Her mind twisted and whirled like a giant desert storm, blowing thoughts of great wealth and power through her greedy soul. The possibility of gaining a boon from a god was thrilling. Gaining this particular boon was more than thrilling.

  “Money. Jewels. Fame. I want it all. I’ll demand it all. That way I’ll be sure to get something of value out of this. I’ll never have to steal again. I can be the noble I was supposed to be.”

  Fox nodded sagely. A jolt of excitement ran through her veins at the boldness of her intended request. Her inner wise woman chose this moment to speak up. Just remember he’s a god, young fox. Watch your step or you might get stepped on. ‘Tis better to be a sly, silent little fox, always out-smarting the hound, than to be caught in the whirlwind of a god and torn apart like paper.

  Fox scowled. Yes, the thought she might be overstepping her bounds had occurred to her, but she had reasoned her god would appreciate her initiative. Okay, her greed. Still, Dakar’s purported philosophy claimed wealth shouldn’t stay in the hands of the wealthy. Instead, it should be taken and redistributed among the populace. Since Dakar asked his followers to live life to its fullest, how could she be asking too much when it was the creed of Illian’s every thief to carry out Dakar’s belief in redistribution? He’d understand her demands. She knew what she was doing. Was she not the most clever, sneakiest thief in all of Illian? Why, she could charm the winds from Almitira and have the goddess none the wiser til it was too late. “I’ll ask for it all. The most he’ll do is tell me no, then I can tell him to go screw himself and head back to bed.”

  Silently groaning, her inner wise woman thought about finding someone else to counsel.

  Fox hesitated upon arriving at the temple doors. Ten feet high and ten across, curving upward into a graceful arch, the thick, massive doors were made of an expensive hardwood covered with hundreds of designs flowing like water over their burnished surfaces. It fascinated her how the designs always looked a little different each time she came here. Reaching out, Fox traced one of the delicate silver vines with its tiny elliptical leaves. As it ran upward, partially hidden faces of beautiful women and animals, both known and strange to her, seemed to flee beneath her touch. The wood felt warm. It vibrated under her fingers. As always, Fox sensed it was somehow alive. Sometimes, she wondered if the images were real people and animals trapped inside the wood. Then again, at other times she thought maybe she was letting her imagination get the best of her. She once told Taymor of the images. Curious, he came with her one time. His only response upon touching the door was to question if her hands were warmer than his before giving her a condescending smile and a pat on the shoulder.

  Fuming, Fox had nearly kicked him right then and there for his insolence.

  “So, where are you today, my sly little fellow?” she murmured while running her fingers lightly over the designs, looking for the small red creature she took as her namesake. Finding the fox was a game she always played before entering the temple to give Dakar her offering. She often thought the small icon knew what she was about and tried its best to hide from her.

  “I know you’re here somewhere.” A feeling touched her, stroked invisible fingers across her belly. She looked up slowly for fear a quick movement would make the creature run into hiding. She need not have bothered. There, sitting in plain sight, the little red trickster stared down at her, not even bothering to hide. Fox scrunched her face, feeling perplexed. It usually took her ten to fifteen minutes to find the sneaky little beast.

  Then— much to her surprise— it blinked.

  Dropping her hand to her side, Fox stepped back from the door.

  A squeaky voice, no more than a whisper, came from the creature’s mouth “No games today, Fox.”

  Fox took another step back, feeling amused by this change in the routine. Never before had the creature spoken to her.

  “He’s been waiting just a bit too long for you so he’s not in a particularly patient mood. Maybe we can play another time.” Winking, it stood up on carved legs and disappeared in the crack between the doors.

  Amused, Fox stared at the crack. After a few moments, the little fox peeked back through the thin opening and cocked its head. “What are you waiting for? I wasn’t kidding about him being in a bad mood. You don’t keep a god waiting.”

  Fox scowled at the carving which might or might not be a figment of her imagination. “I don’t have to do this. In fact, maybe I don’t want to.” She shook her head. Was she really talking to a fox engraved on a door?

  Clenching her hands in frustration, her body stiffened. Nobody, not even a god, could order or push her around. If Dakar didn’t treat her with respect, she might just turn around, march back the way she came and return in a day or two or three or maybe not at all.

  Flattening its ears, the fox’s tear shaped eyes grew very large. “Oh, you shouldn’t play games with a god, my little namesake. Not this one anyway. He’s been waiting a long time for someone like you. I mean a long time.” Its ears perked up, and its head disappeared back between the cracks.

  The doors slid silently open, causing Fox to step backwards. Her heart fluttered, and her stomach tied itself in knots at the thought of what she was about to do. She considered running back the way she had come, but her dream’s voice now spoke from within the temple.

  Welcome, Kaima Marwin.

  Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin. “It’s Fox,” she corrected curtly. No one, not even a god could call her by a name she detested. The sound of it filled her with loathing. Anger made her curse the day she’d been conceived by her whore of a mother.

  She stood stiff-legged and stared into the empty temple, doubt tumbling about inside her head. Was this such a wise idea, to deal with a god? When was the last time she heard of anyone coming out on the good end of one of these bargains?

  These questions and more swirled around within her mind. Questions, in hindsight, she should have asked herself before allowing her greed to get the better of her. The desire to be the god’s thief diminished within her, something her inner wise woman applauded. She took another step backwards.

  Where are you going, Fox? Does not your ambition want you to be known as my personal thief, my shadow?

  Fox hesitated when the invisible voice whispered through her mind. His shadow? Was Dakar offering something so wondrous as a reward? With that boon, she would be unstoppable. No door, no lock, no chain, would keep her from slipping into the shadows and claiming her prize, because she would literally be a shadow. But—

  “I think I need more time to make my decision.” She swallowed and fidgeted. She wasn’t used to second guessing herself. Once she made a decision, she stuck by it, but there was something subtly wrong about the whole thing. Leaving to rethink the matter seemed like a good idea.

  I see. Aren’t you going to come in and give me my offering? The god’s voice was louder now, with an edge to it. His voice slithered into the corridor, cold and angry. Was it not I to whom you prayed when you were nearly caught filching the Hildale emerald? Did you not beg me to save you? Do these words bring familiar memories? ‘Please, god of the night, hear my prayer, and I shall give this emerald
to you in offering as long as I can live to thieve another day?’

  This was not good. Tensing, Fox gave serious thought to the idea of running, but could she outdistance a god? Yes, she had said those words while standing in the magician’s garden on a deathly quiet moonless night. At the time, a mage was about to turn her to stone. Making promises to an absent god had not seemed untoward, and really, it wasn’t as if she had expected Dakar to answer her plea.

  “Well,” Fox said, “I take it from your tone coming inside would be a good idea if not the only one.” Shivering, she waited for a reply, but none came.

  No help for it. She took a deep breath, gathered up her courage, and walked into the temple. She would give Dakar the emerald, tell him what he wanted to hear, then run as fast and as far as she could.

  Her inner wise woman laughed. Fat chance, sister.

  Fox scowled. Stupid voice.

  The dimly lit temple was empty but for statuary, decorations, and a few offerings. Around her all sound seemed muted, surrealistic, like someone had stuffed cotton in her ears. In the middle of the cavernous room resided an altar, a dim massive shape that sent shivers to her bones. Shadows danced and slid along the floors and walls, living, breathing creatures of the dark. Fox’s stomach spasmed when her sense of unease deepened.

  Firming her shoulders, she strode to the altar, stopped in front of it, and withdrew the leather pouch with the emerald in it. Dumping the emerald into her hand, she placed it carefully on the altar’s black, shiny surface, and looked cautiously about her.

  The air above the altar shimmered like heat waves in the desert. Shadows flowed across the room, swirling into its epicenter, blown by a wind which spoke of the coldness of death. The darkness churned, hung suspended for a moment, and then began to take form.

  Fox wrapped her arms about her slight frame. She took a step backward toward the door.

  “Thank you, my little fox. I am glad to see you kept your promise.” A tall, dark, smoky image of a man formed above the altar. With slow, deliberate motions, his head bowed until his eyes gazed deep into hers. Dakar’s voice was a rich, smooth baritone. At first, she thought he was dark-skinned and naked but then realized his clothing fit him like a second skin, showing off every intimate detail of his impressive anatomy.

  Cocking her head to the side, Fox studied the god with appreciative eyes. The form fitting trousers hugging his muscular calves and thighs almost guaranteed the god had a great ass to match the rest of the package. His sleeveless shirt lay open to his waist, exposing a broad expanse of ridged muscle. Fox’s senses reeled for a moment. Until now, she had only seen Dakar in century’s old tiled reliefs. Nothing in those reliefs had led her to believe he looked this exciting. Lust stirred, making her want to drop to her knees, bow her head, and beg him to use her as he willed. An odor exuded from him. Tendrils of sensuous insistence reached out and caressed her body.

  Fox grit her teeth and firmed her resolve. Among other things, Dakar was the god of lust, but she was the Fox, a creature unwilling to be controlled. Feeling bold, she allowed her eyes to drift back up to his face. Strong and angular, he wore a close-cropped beard and mustache. She wasn’t sure about his hair in the dim light. It looked like it was tied back away from his face. Once again, Fox met his eyes and the fear driven away by her earlier lust returned. Twin red furnaces burned within the shadows of Dakar’s face, intense and probing.

  “Like what you see, child?”

  Taking a deep, steadying breathe, Fox decided to ignore his attempt to make her uncomfortable. Besides, damn-it, she was a young healthy woman with a very active libido. She wasn’t ashamed for admiring his maleness or his beauty. She just refused to be controlled by it.

  “Thanks for helping me back at the old mage’s house. If you hadn’t intervened, he would have caught me.”

  The gods only knew what the mage would have done to her. She remembered seeing several statues wearing terrified expressions in his courtyard, all either cowering in fear or seeming to flee in terror. If not for Dakar, her own image would have been among those.

  “But as I said then, I’m not sure about doing this chore for you, whatever it may be.” She glanced nervously at the temple doors and tried to calculate how fast she could get to them.

  The temple doors started to close.

  Fox panicked. Jerking around, she sprinted to the doors and dove for the narrowing opening, but in mid-dive a giant hand wrapped itself around both her feet and yanked her up into the air. The doors shut quietly, and warnings screamed in her head.

  Trapped.

  “Damn you! Let me go!” She wriggled and flung her arms in a wild attempt to break free of the invisible grip, but failed. Instead, she floated through the air to within a foot of where her god’s image stood above the altar. He held her there, his head cocked to one side, studying her.

  “Going somewhere?” he asked.

  From her position of utter helplessness, she watched him give her a tight-lipped smile and arch a shadowy eyebrow.

  Fury and fear lent her boldness. She cursed at Dakar, tried to strike him. Failing in the attempt, she yelled at him some more. “Put me down!”

  Thunk.

  Fox crashed to the floor in a disorganized heap, mostly landing on her head. Cursing, she rolled over and put a hand to her skull. Already, she felt a knot rising. She groaned, came slowly to her feet, rubbing her head and cursing her god. God or not, he couldn’t treat her like this. She wouldn’t allow it. If this relationship had any future other than god to slave, boundaries had to be set.

  “By the gods! You son of a whore! Who do you think you are?” Glaring, Fox bared her teeth.

  Dakar’s form darkened. A cold wind rose up around her, shoving her to her knees with a sharp crack. Fox whimpered.

  “Little thief, who are you to call me a son of a whore? My ancestry comes from nobility so ancient your finite mind cannot even imagine the passage of years.”

  His voice was cold and furious, his eyes blinding beacons of fire red. Fox didn’t care. No matter what, this meeting would be on her terms, not his.

  Without warning, the cold wind ceased. Not being entirely stupid, Fox remained kneeling. “Would you prefer to be a son of a goat instead?”

  The wind returned in force, knocking her to the ground. Fox landed on her side, bit down on a moan, and struggled to her knees again. She tried to rise to her feet. The wind shoved her back down. The smacking of her knees on the flagstones produced a yelp.

  “Hurt does it?” Dakar asked. “How about I bounce you off my temple walls a bit and see if I can break something?” His visage grew darker, his smile more devious.

  “Go ahead. Do what you want,” Fox replied. “For someone in desperate need of the best thief in all of Illian, you aren’t winning any friends here.” Still on her knees, Fox’s eyes narrowed. She spoke through gritted teeth. Let him threaten her all he wanted. She wouldn’t back down.

  Dakar’s smile disappeared. His eyes became thin red slits. After a moment, Fox was allowed to rise.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” she said, rubbing a particularly sore spot on her elbow while finally managing to make it back to her feet. “You’re in desperate need of a thief. Why? And don’t play any games with me. You’ll get more out of me with the truth than some load of horse shit about divine destiny.”

  “Clever. That’s what I like most about you.”

  Fox snorted.

  Dakar scowled. “And disrespectful.”

  “I give it when I get it,” she retorted back, refusing to make this easy by playing the sheep.

  Stepping down from the altar, Dakar walked over to a shadow shrouded wall before turning to look at her, a serious expression on his face. With a brief flicker of his fingers, he cast the shadows away. “Do you see this relief?” He gestured with his hand to a large tiled picture taking up nearly the entire wall.

  The relief pictured Dakar locked in battle with a beautiful woman in white. Although she was not an expert, Fox t
hought the craftsmanship amazing. It looked like the woman’s gown rippled upon the wall as if blown by an unseen wind. Above, looking down from the heavens, other beings watched the battle, their faces stern, unforgiving. Dakar’s likeness looked pissed, the woman triumphant. She held something aloft in her hand which Dakar reached for, a rock maybe?

  “Yes,” she replied. “What of it?” Fox folded her arms in front of her and sighed. Already she was tired of this game.

  “You don’t know what it depicts?” He tilted his head to the side again and looked at her curiously.

  “No, should I? Is this some sort of pre-test or pre-qualification for the job?” she snapped. The knot on her head throbbed. Her belly rumbled. Couldn’t he just get to the point?

  An icy wind skimmed across her body as if she were naked. Her breath came out in white puffs. Fox’s teeth chattered. “H-hey— okay, s‒s‒sorry. T‒t‒turn the h‒heat back up.”

  “I am a god, Fox. Time means very little to me. I have waited long for one such as you, but I can always make another who is your equal. I have been patient for thousands of years. What’s another twenty?”

  Fox rubbed her arms and stamped her feet. “You n‒need to lighten up, oh d‒dark and d‒d‒devious one, and turn the damn heat back up. If you have waited a long time for me then you d‒d‒on’t want me walking right back out the door once I b‒break through it.” Her body ached. Her head throbbed. This was not what she imagined the meeting with Dakar would be. She had expected him to be more conciliatory. After all, she was doing him a favor. She could have left the guild and went about her business, ignoring him altogether.

  Yeah, and that would have got you killed you half-wit, the wise woman quipped. As usual, the bitch seemed to be having a field day with Fox’s misery.

  The darkness walked/drifted over to her. “Let’s try this again, Fox.” His voice was a dark whisper echoing both in her head and around the room.

  Clutching a hand at her aching skull, Fox scowled at the smoky image and took a deep breath. Yes, she thought, let’s try this again.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked, lifting her chin defiantly.

  He stood there a moment looking at her with an intense, still angry, gaze.

  “I want my eye put back.”

  “Your what?” Fox said incredulously. Did he just tell her he wanted his eye back? From where she stood, he appeared to have two. Was he supposed to have some secret third one hidden somewhere on his body? She stared hard at his head. Maybe he had one stuck in the center of his forehead at some earlier time.

  “My eye, the one which once resided in my temple at Lost Falls in Yernden, the one stolen from me thousands of years ago by one of my followers when I was otherwise unavailable. The one recently returned to me by a credulous believer who thought I would reward his sacrilege of touching my eye without permission.”

  Dakar faced her. His image blurred for a moment. His eyes flashed brilliant red. The temple’s temperature dropped several more degrees. Fox hoped he realized if it became any colder she would become a human icicle, and then what good would she be to him. She gave a violent shiver. “There is no such t-t-temple called Lost F-falls. There is no such p-p-place. Could you turn the heat back on? Pleeeseeee.”

  Dakar appeared to struggle with his power and his own anger. The god’s appearance slowly became distinct again. The room warmed. “There is such a place as Lost Falls, though it has long ago fallen into rubble. It was once my gateway into this world. It allowed me to be more than a mere shadow here. Unlike the nano-created finite gods who arrived from the human birth world, I once roamed the entire universe, traveling between the voids, the shadows, knowing and seeing all.”

  Fox stared at him, confused. “I don’t get it,” she admitted. The room started to sway a bit, reminding her sleep was something she didn’t do well without. “If you— wait! You’re here now, in front of me. I can see you just fine. You don’t look like a shadow. Besides, I’ve never had a shadow beat the crap out of me before.” Scare the living shit out of her, too.

  “It was your own fault. We could have done this the easy way.”

  Fox bristled at the sneer in his voice. “And what is the easy way? Me rolling over and saying ‘here, fuck me where it counts’?”

  Dakar stilled. The fires in his eyes dimmed. Unexpectedly, he laughed gently. His laughter floated around the room, light, seductive. “Only if you would like me to.”

  Fox blushed. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought of the two of them, human flesh and god shadow, engaged in—. She stopped her thoughts before they could get her in trouble. “Fine. Yes.” Tired, sore, and starving, Fox gave up. She would find a way out of servitude later. By her lights, it was better to live to fight another day than have the life kicked and frozen out of her by an irate and unreasonable god.

  Dakar’s smoky image smiled. Reaching out, he caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Fox tingled to the touch. Her body warmed. Calm spread through her entire being, her mind slowed, and the need to escape disappeared. The desire to please him became paramount.

  “Good, I have your word then that you will help me?”

  Fox nodded. Of course she would help. He was her god, and he would reward her. “Yes, yes, my word.” Her voice had suddenly turned husky.

  Dakar gave her a deep throaty laugh, thick with the promise of things dark and delicious. “For your service you will be granted great riches,” he whispered. “I will make of you my personal thief. I will show you treasures you never knew existed.” Stepping closer, he tilted her head upward and kissed her.

  Fox sighed.

  Smiling, Dakar’s hands slid down her arms. He gently gripped her elbows and pulled her to him. Fox rose up on her toes, placed her hands on his hard chest, and kissed her god again. His lips devoured hers. He felt so warm— so real. Only the slightest shifting of his lips indicated he was only a shadow.

  Fox’s body tingled, and her belly tightened. Dakar’s shadowy arms wrapped about her body, slid down her back. Fox couldn’t believe how solid he felt, how sensuous his hands were as they kneaded her butt. Breaking the kiss, he lowered his face to her neck. Fox groaned at the sensation. His lips were warm and getting warmer. Dakar tightened his hold upon her. A pinprick of heat, intense, painful, burned into her skin just below her earlobe. Gripping him tighter, Fox cried out, half in pain, half in pleasure. The two sensations exploded within her. Her body clenched in ecstasy. With a shuddering gasp, she climaxed, and then her body went limp in his arms.

  Dakar held her close, breathing hard. Fox felt the hard length of him pressed against her body. “By the shadows, you sure as hell feel real.” Fox closed her eyes, overcome by exhaustion. “I wonder what it would be like if you used more than your mouth.”

  “Wait until I am fully able to come into your world, Fox. I shall grant ecstasy you have never known, give you riches beyond your imaginings. I will make of you my queen, my sweet, little thief.”

  Fox wanted to object to being called sweet but his voice was so soft, so relaxing. Closing her eyes, she drifted to a land far away, in a forest deep and quiet, and a temple long forgotten. One last thought touched her before she drifted away. He had promised to make her his queen. It was good to hear because she now knew even the gods could lie.