The Godswar Saga (Omnibus)

by Jennifer Vale

  “It’s what turned our friend into a pile of ash. Don’t ask me how—we have no idea what it is, let alone that it could be used as a weapon.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Where did you find it?”

  “Inside a Hassian tomb along with a bunch of other relics about sixty miles south of here.”

  “The Hassian tomb?” Sarina asked. “That Dreamwalker one you’ve been trying to find forever?”

  “Yes,” he said, a bit surprised she actually remembered. Archaeology and history weren’t exactly her prime interests. “I sold most of the haul over the past few days, but I wanted to find out what this thing was first.”

  “So you finally found that big score after all,” she muttered. “And managed to piss off the Crell in the process, apparently.”

  “Nothing new there,” Jason grunted. “My family’s been good at that for decades now.”

  “If you don’t even know what it does, why do they want it so badly?”

  “I wish I knew. Do you remember that professor I used to do business with up north?”

  Sarina nodded. “Something Slaan, right?”

  “Yes. Apparently he also learned about the tomb, and he hired some local goons to come after us. One of them was a Crell Imperator.”

  “And you killed him,” she reasoned.

  “They ambushed us right after we left the dig site,” he replied, hearing the defensiveness in his own voice. “Frankly, we were pretty lucky to get out of there in one piece.”

  Sarina pursed her lips in thought. “Killing one of Sovereign Verrator’s goons is bad, but that wouldn’t be enough for the Zarul to get involved directly. Are you sure the guy was a local Imperator and not a Zarul agent?”

  “Not positive, no, but I got the impression he was just in it for the gold.” Jason sighed. “We’re running blind here, even more than usual. I just can’t believe you happened to be nearby.”

  “Dumb luck,” she told him. “I was in town buying some supplies when I saw Gor the other day. I tried to figure out what you were up to before saying anything, but then I caught wind of that Shadow sneaking around.”

  “How exactly do you ‘catch wind’ of some mindless Zarul agent skulking about the streets?”

  “They aren’t mindless, and they don’t skulk,” she corrected. “I’m actually pretty sure he tried to mind-fuck me earlier today.”

  “Interesting term.”

  Sarina shrugged. “Yeah, well, that’s the reason you were shooting at the bloody wall instead of him.” She gestured to the pair of crossbow bolts embedded in the wood above them. “Shadows fuck with people’s minds; they can make you believe almost anything. He beat the living hell out of a few people he questioned earlier today, and I’ll bet you no one in this city outside of us would even recognize him.”

  Jason nodded soberly as a cold tingle prickled its way down his spine. His father had told him plenty tales about the Zarul and their operatives, Bound or otherwise. As far as Jason knew, it was the only organization in the world commanded by a living Ascendant separate from the head of state. The nameless Sovereign’s sole responsibility was the internal security of the Imperium, and he or she created the Shadows as his or her personal operatives free from any oversight even from the other Crell Sovereigns.

  “I decided to follow him and see if I could stop him before he got to you,” Sarina went on after a moment. “I figured if I moved quickly enough, I could put him down before he used his mind control shit on me. Obviously, I was wrong.”

  Jason shook his head. “That’s one hell of a risk, even for you.”

  “I’m Asgardian—we live for the hunt.” She bit down on her lower lip. “But I’ve also learned a lot about how the Crell operate recently, and this seemed like a good test. I’ve been helping some of your old buddies here and there recently.”

  “You mean the Resistance?” he asked, breathless. “You?”

  “It’s a long story,” she murmured. “But right now we need to focus on getting the hell out of here. The Zarul will know that their Shadow is dead. They probably don’t have any more of them in Taig, but if they really want this thing badly enough, you can bet they’ll signal the local garrison and have them lock down the streets.”

  Jason nodded absently. He didn’t even know what to say—all of this was coming at him too quickly to process. First a forest ambush, and now the Zarul, and all for a cube empowered with magic that shouldn’t have even existed in the world when it had originally been buried.

  His reverie ended when the door abruptly opened and Selvhara slipped inside carrying a jug of water and a basket of bread. The elysian froze in place the moment she saw the state of the room and the two of them sitting together on the carpet.

  “Hello, Sel,” Sarina said. “It’s been a long time.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Asgardians only live for two things: fighting and fucking. And most of the time you can’t tell the difference.”

  —Unknown

  It took Jason’s group the better part of thirty minutes to get out of Taig, which was about thirty times longer than Sarina Zharrs had wanted to spend there. She could hardly believe the garrison troops weren’t breathing down their necks within minutes; instead, she and the others had been able to pack up their horses, ride to the gates, and even send Selvhara to find Tam and drag him crying out of the brothel. They rode hard for a full hour before leaving the road altogether and veering into the wilderness to set up camp. In all that time, they didn’t see a single patrol riding up behind them or even a manticore rider fly by overhead.

  Something was very wrong.

  “It’s time you told us what the hell is going on,” Gor growled as they started to set up camp and get the horses settled.

  “Who did you manage to piss off and shoot this time?” Tam added, shooting an irritated glare at Sarina. “If this is because you two are fighting again, someone is getting their hair burned off.”

  Jason sighed and took a seat on a nearby stump. He hadn’t changed much in the last two years. His tussled brown hair was more unkempt than usual, and his brown eyes were distant as his mind raced to catch up with all that was going on. She fought back a flash of annoyance at herself for staring at him again; it had already happened several times since they had left the inn. And she had almost made a complete fool of herself when they had been in his room. Fixing his jaw had been a practical decision, but she also knew it would make him mad—and she liked it when he was mad.

  Ridiculous or not, that was how their relationship had always been. He might not have been Asgardian, but she had always been attracted to him anyway. He liked his old books and his dusty trinkets a bit much for her tastes, and he spent way too much time lost inside his own mind…but at least he could speak in a complete sentence without drooling all over himself. Some of the men in her country had trouble with both.

  Jason was also a soldier, or at least used to be, and he was skilled enough with a blade when he had to be. She wouldn’t exactly call him a warrior, but her people had great respect for those who could master history and fight all at the same time. He could have passed for a skald in Asgardia….if only he could carry a tune.

  “They sent someone after the cube,” Jason said into the silence. “A Shadow, to be precise. He broke into our room somehow and tried to take it.”

  Tam blinked. “A Shadow? Are you sure?”

  Jason glanced to Sarina for confirmation, and she nodded. “He was definitely a Zarul Shadow. I managed to track him across the city and intercept him at your room.”

  “He walked right past us in the inn,” Selvhara added, her glimmering violet eyes distant in thought. “We don’t remember it, but it happened. I have a vague recollection of passing a shrouded figure when I left the room, but it is very…muddled. It only came back to me when I tried to repair whatever damage he had done.”

  “That’s bad. Like, really, really bad,” Tam muttered. The annoyance in his face had shifted to concern or maybe even fear. “Jace,
if they were sending a Shadow after this thing…?”

  “I know,” Jason replied softly. “Heist must not have been some random goon looking for extra gold after all.”

  “He could have been an undercover Green Coat,” Tam suggested. “I don’t know; I guess it doesn’t really matter. The point is they sent a Shadow to get that thing back…and you managed to kill it somehow?”

  Jason made eye contact with her again. Sarina shook her head and bit her lip.

  “Not really,” she admitted. “The cube did it.”

  “What?” Gor asked, eyes narrowing. “How? Is it a weapon of some sort?”

  “I have no idea,” Jason said. “I just grabbed it in a last ditch effort—I’m not even sure what I was thinking. But when I touched it, it was like the whole world changed. I could see this blue mist everywhere, like the room had suddenly fogged over.” He took a deep breath. “Then it just…attacked. I can’t really describe it any better than that.”

  “Attacked? It leapt at him?”

  “No, it fired some type of energy at him. Burned him alive almost instantly.”

  “Aether,” Tam reasoned. “That’s what you were seeing. Somehow it let you perceive it.”

  Jason shrugged. “That was my first thought, but I’m not exactly a channeler. All I have to go on are your descriptions.”

  “There are plenty of weapons that can discharge Aetheric energy if they are enchanted properly.” Tam mulled it over. “But it must have been a damn potent blast to kill a Shadow, especially one that was prepared. They are Bound—they should have some defenses against a magical attack.”

  “The Green Coats wouldn’t send an elite agent after a common weapon,” Sarina told them. “It would have to be rare or powerful. Or both.”

  “He must not have been using lethal force or one of you would be dead, yes?” Gor asked.

  “He could have killed me but didn’t,” Sarina confirmed. “I’m not sure about Jason. Shadows rarely carry conventional weapons, and they don’t kill unless they have to. Bodies leave a trail and stir up much more commotion. They prefer to slip in, hide in false memories, and take what they want.”

  “So he was willing to simply take the item and leave you alone, and yet you fought back.” Gor’s beady yellow eyes narrowed dangerously. “And in doing so, you have risked our fortune and possibly our lives.”

  “He didn’t exactly ask politely,” Jason replied tartly. “When I woke up he was just about ready to grab it, then Sarina showed up and shot him—well, a fake him.” He sighed. “Look, it doesn’t really matter. The point is—”

  “The point is that your curiosity nearly got you killed, and now it has placed a mark on all our heads,” Gor said, stepping forward to loom over the much smaller human man. “Heist asked you politely enough and you refused. I thought perhaps you believed the item too valuable, but I should have known better. You just had to know what it was, didn’t you?”

  Jason hadn’t budged. “I still don’t know what it is.”

  Gor laughed. Sarina had only heard the sound a few times before, and then, paradoxically, only when the chagari was angry. “But you want to know, don’t you? That’s the entire reason you wanted to go to Lyebel in the first place, isn’t it? I bet you could have sold more of this drek here, but you wanted to dangle it around before us so we’d follow you.”

  “Yes, I was just trying to dupe you saps all along, didn’t you know?” Jason rolled his eyes. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “Oh, but we do, little man,” Gor snarled, stepping in even closer. “Because you are going to take this little cube of yours back to Taig and drop it off at the closest garrison.”

  Jason smiled and shook his head. He was surprisingly calm given Gor’s proximity. An angry chagari could probably shred a human from that range long before any of them could do anything about it. Still, Sarina discreetly wrapped her fingers around the handle of the throwing knife in her boot.

  “No, we’re going to take it to Lyebel and figure out exactly what it is,” Jason insisted, “then we’ll decide what to do with it.”

  “Are we now?” Gor replied acidly. “How easily you toss us into danger to suit your whimsy.”

  “You really think I knew the Crell wanted this? Or that they’d send a fucking Shadow after us?”

  “No,” Gor admitted. “I just think you sometimes forget not all of us care about the same things as you. I don’t give a damn about your little crusade against these people, and I will not become a slave again just so you can fulfill your ‘curiosity.’”

  He was within breathing distance now, and his claws were out. Sarina slowly slid her knife free of its sheath…

  “Gor.”

  Selvhara wasn’t even looking at him; she sat huddled by a tree, her eyes closed and her legs crossed meditatively. Gor turned towards her, the rage in his eyes almost palpable. But after a few more seconds of glaring at her, the worst of his anger seemed to drain away. He grunted and retracted his claws, then went back to work unpacking his bedroll and supplies.

  Silence descended across their camp, and Sarina couldn’t help but marvel at the elysian’s uncanny ability to soothe everyone around her, even a chagari. Gor had always groused and complained about everything, and he used to mock Selvhara for her physical weakness all the time…but when it came right down to it, he probably respected her more than anyone else here. Even chagari were smart enough to realize that antagonizing their healer was generally a bad idea.

  “The Resistance will be able to help us,” Selvhara said into the silence. “Especially if we have something the Crell want.”

  Jason closed his eyes and rubbed his face. “It’s a big risk. They’re in hiding for a reason, and we might unwittingly help the Crell flush them out.”

  Sarina shook her head. “Things are different than you remember. Lyebel isn’t the same place it was a few years ago. We have control of the docks; it’s as safe a place as you’ll find in the whole country.”

  “We?” Tam asked. “Wait a second—are you telling me that you joined the rebels? You used to say they were all morons.”

  She flinched despite herself. “Things change.”

  He snorted. “Apparently so. I mean, what the hell are you doing here in Galvia, anyway? I thought you were working for some merchant in Ikara.”

  “I was. I spent almost a year there, but when I came back I stumbled onto what was left of the Resistance and heard about your father.”

  Tam’s eyes flicked between her and Jason for a few seconds. “I thought you hated his dad and everyone he was associated with.”

  Sarina tried to make eye contact with Jason, but his lids were still shut. From the moment she had first spotted Gor walking around Taig she had known this moment would eventually come. She had already gone over this conversation in her mind a dozen times by now.

  “We didn’t get along,” she managed. It was a grievous understatement, of course. Jason’s father, Ethan, had always despised her. At first she had assumed it was simply because she was an Asgardian—or more specifically, an Asgardian who also happened to be the cousin of the current High King.

  Fourteen years ago, Asgardia had chosen not to get involved in the Ash War, and Jason’s father had never forgiven them for it. No one had expected the decision, not even the Crell; Asgardians lived and breathed for battle, after all. But Sarina’s cousin, Doyrd Zhaars, had been working to change their people’s culture and traditions for many years. He hadn’t believed there was any pressing national interest in a war between Galvia and the Crell, and as a result he had kept his people out of the fighting.

  Sarina had been fourteen at the time and as eager to prove her worth as any Asgardian at that age. She had desperately wanted to fight, but her family had held her back. Only by the war’s end, when Crell troops had inevitably started to bleed over into Asgardian territory, had she finally been able to lift her axe.

  “I feel like I’m missing something here,” Tam said, still glancing between
them. “Anyone wish to enlighten me?”

  “The man I was working for in Ikara hated the Crell,” she explained. “He smuggled all types of things in and out of their southern border. Most of the time it was just basic things to avoid tariffs, but he’d gotten into the habit of getting healing salves and sometimes even weapons to refugees or resistance groups.”

  “Ghaile,” Jason murmured. “Quilor Ghaile. He was one of my father’s Ikaran contacts. Dad always said he was a good man.”

  “He was,” she said softly. “Just after the Crell started their brief war with the Talishites, they implemented a heavy crackdown on smuggling along their southern border. They ruffled some feathers in the Ikaran government, but nothing really happened.” She paused a moment and tried to ignore the bile rising in her throat. “They butchered Ghaile and all of his people. They strung him up by his entrails on the mast of his ship before burning the whole thing to ashes. The rest of his people they just carved up and left bleeding in his shop.”

  She saw Tam wince from the corner of her eye. Jason’s eyes finally opened and he looked at her.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her.

  “I wasn’t there,” she continued. “Not for most of it. By the time I got back, Ghaile had already been taken and the warehouse had been ransacked. The only people left were a few Zarul thugs. They were going to torch the whole building.”

  “I probably don’t want to know what you did to them, do I?” Tam whispered.

  “No,” Sarina told him. “You really don’t.”

  For a long moment, no one spoke. But eventually Jason shuffled and sighed.

  “So you came back home seeking vengeance for Ghaile,” he reasoned. “And then you fell in with the Resistance.”

  “Not exactly. I came back to find you. I figured with the Talishite Offensive raging in the south and Ishthare’s Rebellion tearing apart the Crell in the west, you would pick up the cause again.”

  He grunted. “It was never my cause; you know that.”