As the sun sank over the horizon a few stars penetrated the twilight. Gewey remembered what Melek had said about knowing what the stars really were. I should have asked him, he thought.
Barely had this passed through his mind when the wind picked up and he could hear soft footfalls approaching from the south. A minute later Melek appeared from the brush. His countenance was grim and his posture aggressive.
“So, have you made your choice?”
“I have,” Gewey affirmed. He rose to his feet. “I cannot allow you to spread your evil here or in heaven. And I will not join you in destroying the gods…or the Creator. I have to stop you, whatever the cost to myself.”
Melek shook his head and scowled. “You will only succeed in dying. I really did not want to turn to your mortal foe for aid, but it would seem you are leaving me with little choice.”
Gewey drew his sword. The steel sang its deadly song.
A look of vast amusement showed on Melek’s face. “You think this is the battle you have come to fight? One with clumsy mortal weapons and brute strength?”
The world gradually turned darker until only the figures of the two gods were visible. Gewey could sense the strength of Melek’s spirit growing to unimaginable heights. A ghostly mist rose from his opponent’s back, rising and expanding until it was seven feet tall and twice the width of a man. Light flashed within the mist and began to solidify into the form of a massive warrior. Its armor gleamed with an unnatural light, while in each hand was a massive blade. The warrior’s long, ghostly hair blew carelessly about, as if facing an ocean wind. Its face looked somewhat like Melek’s human form, but was far more intimidating and powerful.
“Now do you see?” Melek’s voice thundered in Gewey’s ears. “You cannot win.”
Gewey allowed his own spirit to rise up, but he was without armor or weapon. Looking down, he was no longer able to see his own body.
“You can’t even find a way to fight me,” Melek scoffed. “I think I will enjoy killing the son of Gerath.”
He leapt forward with both swords raised to strike. Gewey jumped left, narrowly avoiding the blades splitting him in two. Melek laughed wickedly and gave chase. Again and again Gewey was forced to dodge Melek’s attacks. He thought to counter with his bare hands, but could see no openings that would not expose him to almost certain death.
Gewey sent a ball of fire at his adversary, but this passed through him as if he was without substance. Melek smiled and charged in again, now with even greater speed. A sword grazed Gewey’s shoulder, sending him flying back. Though the ground was nothing but blackness, it jarred him to the bone as he landed. He touched the wound. No blood, but the spot where the blade had struck looked distorted and pain burned from deep inside.
Melek didn’t give Gewey time to recover his feet, coming at him once again with both blades held high. All Gewey could do was raise an arm defensively, while at the same time bracing himself for the deadly impact. But just as the blows were falling, from seemingly nowhere, a shield appeared on his forearm. The swords crashed into this with dull thumps. With shock waves of pain shooting through his arm, Gewey scampered to his feet.
“You learn quickly,” remarked Melek with approval. “A pity it will be your final lesson.”
Gewey concentrated on envisioning a weapon, but was disrupted by yet another attack. Again and again both blades collided into the shield. He could feel it weakening, and knew that in moments it would splinter.
One final blow exploded the shield into a million shards of sparkling light, throwing Gewey hard onto the ground once more. Melek moved in for the kill. As Gewey desperately rolled away from the fatal strike, the sword in Melek’s right hand buried itself deep into the ground a mere inch away from his head. He sought to regain his footing, but Melek kicked him in the chest.
Snarling, Melek ripped his sword free from the earth. The tiny clumps of soil that came up with it were set aflame as they scattered. In this briefest of breathing spaces, Gewey managed to scramble to his feet. As he did so, he once again tried to manifest a weapon. This time a sword appeared in his hand.
“Good,” said Melek. “I was beginning to think this would be no challenge at all.” Tauntingly, he waved Gewey in.
He was a fearsome sight. Confronted with such obvious power, the sword in Gewey’s hand suddenly felt small and useless. Forcing this notion aside and steeling his nerves, he gripped the handle tightly and moved forward. In response, Melek relaxed his stance, lowered his weapons and shot Gewey a knowing smirk.
Gewey hesitated, momentarily confused, but then recovered to swing his blade at Melek’s neck with astonishing speed and precision. There was a blinding flash of light and a ring of clashing steel. As the light faded and vision returned, Gewey’s heart chilled at the sight of his own blade now firmly in the grip of Melek’s gauntlet.
“Farewell, Darshan,” Melek hissed.
He tossed the captured sword into the air, where it immediately exploded into a million tiny sparks. An instant later Melek’s own sword reappeared back in his hand. The hilt of this crashed into Gewey’s jaw. His second sword swung at Gewey’s chest, its blade digging two inches into his spiritual flesh. Searing pain screamed its way through every fiber of his being as he fell to the ground yet again.
Clutching at his chest, Gewey let out a blood-curdling cry. But through all the agony, a single thought still prevailed. Now there was nothing to stop Melek - or the Reborn King.
The world around him became visible once again as his spirit receded back into his body. Melek in his earthly form was only a few feet away, laughing triumphantly, a small dagger in his hand. Gewey wanted to move but was completely paralyzed.
“You are beaten,” Melek chided. “There is nothing left for you but death. Continuing to struggle is useless and embarrassing.” He strolled up beside Gewey as if he hadn’t a care, knelt beside him, and held the dagger above his throat. “I could shred your spirit while it is still clinging to this disgusting mortal form if I so chose. But as I am merciful, I will end your earthly life first. It is less… distressing that way.”
Gewey glared at Melek with unfathomable contempt and defiance. He wanted to speak, but his voice had abandoned him. He closed his eyes and sent Kaylia a final wave of love through their bond.
The words I’m sorry would be the last thing she would hear from him.
* * * * *
Basanti crept through the forest with as much speed as she dared. She prayed that her information was accurate. Everything depended on it.
The open air felt good on her face - the scent of grass and trees a refreshing change. She was now only a few hundred yards away from the clearing. If she ran she could be there in an instant, but that would risk showing herself prematurely. She listened carefully for the others. They were there and in position. Melek had arrived too and was speaking to Gewey, so all she could do was wait and hope.
Her wait was soon over as the two gods clashed. Basanti immediately picked up her pace, striving to time her arrival as planned. But the suspicion that Melek was aware of her presence refused to go away. It was only with a tremendous effort that she was able to push aside her fear. Melek could easily end her life in an instant.
She arrived at the clearing just as Gewey’s body crumpled to the ground. He had lost, but was thankfully still alive. For how much longer though? Melek was kneeling over him with a dagger at his throat, about to finish matters.
At that critical moment, twenty Vrykol rushed in from the cover of the trees. Unconcerned, Melek merely glanced over his shoulder, a knowing smirk on his lips. Before the Vrykol had taken even half a dozen paces he’d raised his hand and simultaneously ripped out the spirit from each and every one of them.
Basanti had already drawn her dagger and was running headlong at Melek from the opposite direction. He spun around and was about to tear her spirit out too when an arrow whizzed through the air, striking the Oracle in the right thigh. She stumbled and fell to her knees just in front of
Melek’s feet.
Shaking his head, he sneered at her. “Did you really think you could surprise me?”
From the tree line strode Aaliyah, bow in hand. Melek nodded in her direction. “Your help was unnecessary. I knew they were coming.”
“I apologize,” she said, bowing low. She walked up and stood beside Melek. “But when I learned of the plot, I had to act.”
Ignoring Aaliyah, Melek turned his attention to Basanti. “You are different from the others. Created by one of my children. Though which one, I can’t tell.” He bent down and jerked the arrow from her leg. Basanti cried out in pain. “A pity they didn’t make you stronger. Killing you is no challenge.”
“Felsafell,” whispered Basanti. “What did you do to him?”
“Ah, yes.” Melek smiled broadly. “The first born. He is unharmed as of yet. Though I will not be able to tell him the same of you. For now he is locked safely away in the cellar of the king’s manor. But rest assured, I will attend to him soon enough.” He cocked his head and laughed softly. “I must admit that the use of your enemy’s creatures in an attempt to distract me was…creative. For that, I think I will let you die without your lovely head on your shoulders.”
“Demon,” she spat. “Shagharath was too kind a sentence.”
Anger flashed across Melek’s face. He nodded to Aaliyah. “Kill her.”
Aaliyah dropped her bow and unsheathed a long thin sword that hung at her side. She looked down at the Oracle with stone determination and unyielding resolve. Basanti closed her eyes and prepared to die.
Then, everything changed. In the blink of an eye Aaliyah spun around - her blade, instead of delivering death to Basanti, cut through the air directly at Melek’s throat. But fast as she was, Melek would not be taken off-guard. Swiftly ducking beneath the sword, he struck her savagely on the temple with the hilt of his dagger. Aaliyah stumbled back, clinging desperately to consciousness.
“I thought you might betray me,” Melek told her. His voice was cold and emotionless. “I should have altered your spirit completely.” He shrugged. “Little matter. I’m tired of these games. It’s time to end this.”
Even as he spoke, a tall figure rushed from out of the trees and leapt at his back. Basanti knew instantly that it was Felsafell. Melek jumped forward, easily avoiding the attack. He spun around to face Felsafell and gave a mocking laugh. “Did you imagine I would not sense your approach, first born? You are no more of a threat to me than the rest of these fools.”
He was still laughing when his body abruptly went rigid, as if struck by a thunderbolt. His eyes flew wide apart in a macabre mixture of stunned surprise and horrific realization of the fate about to befall him. For a long moment he remained locked in this position.
“Now it ends,” said Weila. She was standing directly behind Melek, in her hand the Fangs of Yajna that she had just jabbed into his back.
All at once, Melek’s limbs collapsed. His body crumpled lifelessly to the ground, only the grotesque expression mirroring his final living thoughts still frozen on his face.
Weila regarded him briefly with a satisfied smile, then leapt over the body to kneel beside Gewey. Aaliyah quickly joined her and began examining the damage to Gewey’s spirit. He was still in extreme pain and unable to move or speak, but her reassuring glance helped to calm him.
“There is no permanent damage,” Aaliyah said, brushing back his hair.
Gewey mouthed Kaylia’s name.
“Nehrutu, Linis and Dina are watching over her.”
Gewey smiled weakly and nodded.
Aaliyah looked back at Basanti. Felsafell was tending the arrow wound in her leg. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But if I hadn’t shot you…”
Basanti laughed, then winced as Felsafell tightened the bandage. “Yes, I know. I would be dead. You did the right thing. And don’t worry, I’ll heal in no time at all. But I am curious about how you were able to be freed from Melek’s influence.”
Aaliyah looked at the dead god’s body and scowled. “Melek was unable to understand how the bond between Gewey and myself works. Such things were unknown to him. They didn’t come into existence until after the elves became a race. By then, he was already locked in Shagharath. Gewey merely allowed me to hear their conversation on the night of the banquet. The moment I learned of Melek’s intent, his influence was broken.” She pursed her lips. “I am fortunate that he did not alter me beyond my ability to resist.”
“And praise the Creator for that,” Weila added. “The plan would have never worked without you.”
Aaliyah cocked her head. “Me? It was you who held the key to it all. Your rejection of the flow made you invisible to him and allowed the distractions to work.”
Weila paused, her expression reflective. “It makes me wonder if this is not all a part of the Creator’s design.”
“Yes, I wonder that too,” agreed Aaliyah.
Felsafell finished treating Basanti and kissed her on the cheek.
“Can Gewey be moved?” she asked.
“He can,” said Aaliyah.
After helping Basanti to her feet, Felsafell went over to Gewey and lifted him in his arms.
“I must go on ahead,” said Aaliyah. “I need to be with Kaylia.” She smiled at Gewey. “She will give birth very soon. But you needn’t worry. Her body is strong and her will to live even stronger. All will be well.”
“A good day,” remarked Weila. “Your baby comes, your wife will survive, and one of your enemies has fallen.”
Gewey managed a smile.
“We should keep what has happened to ourselves until after Gewey has healed,” Aaliyah warned. “Melek has influenced many, including the king. For now, we should simply say that we do not know of Melek’s whereabouts.”
“But how will we explain Felsafell?” asked Weila. “It was hard enough for me to accept what he is. And he won’t exactly blend in.”
“We will remain hidden,” said Basanti. “Once we near the gates, you must attend to Gewey.”
Gewey groaned. “I-I think. I-I think…” His voice was muffled, as if he were speaking with his mouth covered.
Weila laughed. “If that sentence ends with ‘I can walk’, then Melek must have bashed the sense from your head. I may not have the strength of a god, but I can manage your weight long enough to get you home.”
Aaliyah took her leave and raced toward the city.
Basanti and Felsafell departed when a quarter mile away from the gates, leaving Weila to heft Gewey over her shoulder. On seeing them approach, the guards quickly procured a wagon to carry him. They eyed Gewey with confusion, but Weila commanded them to remain quiet about what they had seen, and had them accompany her to ensure that they did.
By the time they reached the manor, though still unable to walk, Gewey was capable of speaking a few words. He ordered the guards to stay at the entrance, reaffirming to them that they should remain silent about his condition. As they moved on inside, Weila was beading with sweat and grunting from the exertion of bearing his not inconsiderable weight. Much to her relief, two soldiers quickly came to their aid and took over in helping Gewey to his chambers.
Kaylia was still sleeping, though more peacefully than before, with Aaliyah seated beside the bed holding her hand. Linis and Dina helped Weila to strip Gewey of his clothing, then laid him beside Kaylia.
“It’s good to see that you live,” said Linis with a friendly smile. “I am beginning to believe that fate is your ally, my friend.” Wrapping his arm around Dina, they stood there together watching as Gewey drifted off to sleep huddled up close to Kaylia.
* * * * *
Gewey awoke slowly. The light shining through the window told him that it was late in the afternoon. Kaylia was still beside him, though now awake and smiling sweetly. Her belly was full and round and ready to birth their son.
She leaned over and kissed him. “Aaliyah says that whatever Melek did, it has not injured our son…or me. But I will give birth within the next day and cannot l
eave this bed until then.”
Gewey was relieved beyond measure. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Only a day,” she replied. “Aaliyah has tended us both, aided considerably by Mohanisi and Nehrutu. They say that the damage to your spirit has already healed - also that Melek’s influence over the people is slowly fading now that he is gone.”
“That’s good to hear.”
The door opened and Linis stepped inside. He took one look at Gewey and laughed exuberantly. “I see you are feeling better now.”
Smiling, Gewey slipped from out of the bed. His legs were unsteady at first, causing him to grab hold of the bedpost until able to gain his balance. Once stable, he embraced his friend tightly. “Thank you.”
Linis raised an eyebrow. “Why thank me? It was not I who faced a mad god and lived to tell the tale.”
“No,” said Gewey. “But it was you who saved me. You and the others. I assume that was the secret you were all keeping.”
Linis held out his hands and shrugged his shoulders. “What else could we do? Both the Oracle and High Lady Selena feared that if you were unable to keep our plan from Melek, we would be undone.”
“She may have been right,” Gewey admitted. “I still have a hard time imagining his power. It was far beyond anything I expected. But what about Aaliyah? I had hoped by allowing her to hear Melek’s plans that she would be able to overcome his influence, but I was never entirely sure if this had been successful.”
Linis chuckled. “Oh, your plan worked well enough. Once she was free of him she searched the manor and found Felsafell locked away in the basement. I was supposed to break in and rescue him, but she beat me to it. Without her, I don’t think we would have succeeded.”
Gewey nodded approvingly. “That leaves me with only one question. The Vrykol?”
Linis’ smile vanished. “I’m afraid you have the Reborn King to thank for that. Apparently, he had no more desire to have Melek walking the earth than we do. He sent word that he would deliver us with enough Vrykol to provide a distraction.”
The Godling Chronicles : Bundle - Books 4-6 Page 65
