by Nhys Glover
“I... I think so.” Shardra turned to study the sea. At the moment we were heading away from the coast, directly east. The sun had set behind us, but the sky was still light.
After a tentative moment, where she turned in one direction and then another, Shardra eventually settled on the direction we were travelling.
Pointing a finger straight ahead, she said with more confidence than her actions had indicated. “That way. Keep heading that way until after dawn tomorrow. I will check again then.”
He nodded agreeably and headed off to inform the sailor currently at the tiller.
I hoped she knew what she was doing because our lives were in her hands now.
The thought filled me with icy terror.
Chapter Twenty
We were dining in the small mess below deck when Redin had his first ‘fit’. One minute he was talking to us about the worlds he explored in his mind, the next he was falling backwards. Only Zem’s warrior speed kept him from crashing to the deck.
On the walk down to the airling paddock we’d formulated a plan to trick the hag into believing Shardra was still the one she had. So now Zem was holding Redin in place and Shardra was making a big performance of flopping back into Landor’s arms. If the hag looked at this scene, as she’d done before, then she would see what she expected to see—her fuel source, Shardra, unconscious and one of the men too deep in his cups. Or that’s what we hoped she’d see. The mind often filled in details it expected to see.
But until Redin returned, we couldn’t know for sure if our misdirection worked.
For the longest quarter turn in my life we waited for Redin to come around. Listlessly, we picked at our food. Even Prior, who ate enough for two men, seemed to have lost his appetite.
When Redin began to moan and shift on his seat, Shardra instantly opened her eyes and sat up, anxiously scanning Redin’s face from her position on the other side of the long table. If she hadn’t been sitting in the middle of one long bench against the rounded side of the hull, with a big man at each shoulder, I’m sure she would have been out of her seat and at his side in an instant.
His eyes cleared and he smiled across at Shardra. “Gods, that was awful. I knew what to expect from your memories, but I had hoped they were exaggerations. But they were just as bad as you pictured them. Those Devourers.”
Shardra nodded in commiseration. “You feel dirty after, do you not? It is like you are covered in slime. I used to try to wash it off me when I came back, but it didn’t help. I think that was one of the reasons I stopped caring about... well, about my personal cleanliness.”
Redin nodded energetically. “Exactly. Exactly. I am sad to hear that I will not be able to wash off their taint, though. But it is worth it, I suppose, for what I learned.”
“What did you learn?” Zem demanded impatiently. I could tell he’d wanted to interrupt the exchange between Shardra and Redin but had refrained out of politeness. And maybe more. Maybe he understood that Redin had to have a moment or two to re-acclimate, and sharing what he had experienced with someone who understood was a necessary part of that re-acclimation. It would help keep him sane.
Zem knew all about keeping sane. He’d developed enough of his own strategies over the suns.
Redin reached for a biscuit and then thought better of it. “I saw the tunnel where they are all living. The Godling and his generals, the main priests working on the translations, and sometimes the hag. Oh, and the Clifflings they had stolen from their homes and were using for their experiments. Although their accommodation would not be as comfortable as the Godling’s, I assume. Those poor creatures looked close to death.”
None of this was new information. Shardra had told us it before. But I could tell Redin was preparing for what he needed to say. Getting the simple, comparatively harmless stuff out of the way before he had to drop the rock into the pool.
I wasn’t the only one who realised what he was doing. Everyone at the table was on tenterhooks.
“The high priest was talking about the fact the armies were no longer sweeping the mountains for the Godling. He wanted to know what they were doing and why.
“The hag had her own agenda. She felt the change in energy and she was anxious to understand it. Finding the ‘sickly girl’—as she thought of you, Shardra—was her primary concern. I did not get a sense that she truly understood what had happened when I seduced the parasite away from you. Nor does she understand that you were informing on her yesterday. Certainly, she does not know I have taken your place. Though she is suspicious of the new energy reserves she thinks she has discovered in you.”
He paused for a moment to take a sip from his tankard. His skin was a pale ashen colour. And I don’t think it had anything to do with his seasickness, which had not yet made itself known. While he’d been regaling us with his adventures on the Nether Plane he’d commented that he felt fine. That mayhap the fact that this was a far larger vessel than the ones he had sailed in as a child made all the difference to his stomach. I doubted that would prove the case once the swell got up. At the moment, the gentle rocking of the boat was barely noticeable.
“When she scryed, she first went to the palace, to where the generals were meeting to discuss the change of plans. She saw the map Shardra had drawn, but as there was no mention of how Darkin had obtained it, she only knew that we now have an accurate map of the tunnels where the Godling was hidden. There was no mention of where the entrance to those tunnels could be found. That frustrated her.
“She then swapped to Shardra, to see if she might shed some light on the changing situation. I got that she had yet to fully absorb what she had seen the day before. Or its ramifications. She needed to get to know Shardra better, she had decided. I could feel her sending her tentacles into me, trying to get information. But I would not let her break through my barriers. So she gave up and went to find Shardra in the scrying pool. She saw us here, Shardra seemingly unconscious.
“She immediately understood what was happening. That Shardra was on the quest to find the key. That somehow we were using her to find it. In her panic she began draining me. It was excruciatingly painful. But something stopped her. Possibly the knowledge she had no replacement. Possibly that she was jumping to conclusions, that it may not be that Shardra was leading us.
“So she jumped forward. I saw us landing on an island. Above us was a huge mountain that took up almost all of the island. The airlings and their riders were flying toward the mountain.
“She knows where the island is now. By setting sail we set the future into place. And she followed it. Now they will come. A ship is being made ready to follow us as we speak. They will come.”
For a long time after he had finished we sat in silence. Had bringing Shardra with us sealed our fate? But what choice did we have? She was the only one who supposedly knew the way. And if the prediction of the future was accurate, we would definitely find the mountain where the key could be found. Or a mountain that matched our expectations anyway. There was no telling it was the right volcanic mountain.
“How long?” I asked. “How long before we reach it?”
Redin shook his head slowly, his expression pensive. “A quarter turn? She didn’t get an accurate time, only the location. Which is directly east from where we set sail.”
“So we will not need to change direction on the morrow?” Shardra asked with interest.
Having the future destination laid out for us made things easier. We didn’t have to depend on Shardra’s questionable sense of direction.
What came first: Shardra’s knowledge of the destination—gained from the daemon—or the hag’s prediction, which would now lead us to that destination? I wished I knew.
“So, the hag is still not aware that Shardra is no longer the source of her energy,” Zem said slowly, considering what he’d heard, mulling it over in his own way so the pieces fit in his head. It helped us too. “That is a plus. She has no idea how we got a map of the tunnels, but we know it is an accurate copy, though
how she knows, given she is blind and had never physically seen it, is unclear.”
Shardra took that moment to interrupt. “She had seen the priests showing the Godling the map in the scrying pool. When they were telling him of his part in the grand scheme of things. I just remembered that.”
Zem nodded. “Why him? Why has The Jayger’s bid for freedom hinged on the Godling for all these millennia?”
Shardra looked skyward, as if accessing her memories. “It is complicated and even the hag did not understand it completely. Long generations ago, when there were many men with magic and they fought among themselves to become the one source of all magic, one man was approached by Devourer priests. They offered him a powerful magic they had distilled from the sea and promised it would make him the supreme source of magic in the world.
“You see, The Jayger had no desire to wipe out all life on this world, only that life that did not depend on him. The Goddess had not only invaded his territory by bringing her fiery world to the surface to make land, but she had fostered the life she enticed out of the water to live on the land. He saw all this as a threat to his creative powers. Few Devourers knew this closely kept secret, though, because it went against their main tenants of Creation and Destruction.”
This shocked me, though why I had no idea. It made sense that flooding the world would not destroy all life in the world. The sea seethed with life, as varied and prolific as any to be found on land. So, really, this was not a true attempt at annihilation as the Devourers considered it, just the removal of one half of life. Their whole concept of the cycle of birth and death, which the Goddess had supposedly interrupted in her arrogance, was no such thing. The Jayger just didn’t want his creations supplanted. He didn’t want to lose his position as all powerful creator of life on this world.
But Shardra was going on so I had to turn off my own brain for a while. “This magic activated something in his blood, making him more powerful than his competition. It is the reason his line has remained true, for all one Godling after another has been overthrown. Because his bloodline always replaced the one that went before. All those with magic living today have the original Godling’s blood running through their veins somewhere.”
Which didn’t explain why only one man could be instrumental in releasing The Jayger. If all it took was a Godling’s magical blood...
“Each new Godling must be anointed with a version of that initial sea-life magic, which activated his magical potency. The magic only lasts a few generations before it needs new blood to work with. A new Godling to work on. And only one man at a time could have this magic. It could not be shared, for obvious reasons. The power-mad first Godling would not have permitted it. So only the anointed Godling has the doubly imbued magic required to open the way for the Devourer.”
“But if that was what was required, why not kill off the Godling and anoint their own man with their magic if they wanted to free The Jayger sooner?” Landor asked, perplexed.
“Because the anointing elixir is the most closely held secret in the world. When the Devourers handed it over to the first Godling he made sure they had no ability to replicate it. He killed all the Devourers he could find. He made their very existence an affront against life. Which they were, but that was not the reason the first Godling did it. He was protecting his power.
“They have had to fight for their very existence ever since—had to wait for the prophesy to be fulfilled, and the Goddess to rise and take back her world. Only when the Godling was removed from power did they have a chance of getting to him and convincing him that theirs was the only way he could have the ultimate victory.”
“Wow,” I breathed out in amazement. “Who would have thought the Godling had it right, or partly right all this time. For the wrong reasons, but still...”
“So, those first Devourer priests were trying to bring about the end back then. They sought out a powerfully magical man they could enhance with their elixir to free The Jayger. But instead, that first Godling turned on them and killed the lot of them,” Zem said, clarifying another point for me.
“I assume so. As I said, the hag wasn’t clear on all the details. It was just something that was passed down through history. All she knew for certain was that the Godling was the only one who could release her master and would-be lover. And he had to do it willingly. And he wouldn’t do that unless he had lost everything and wanted revenge.”
Zem nodded and cleared his throat. “That was quite a digression, but a valuable one. It means that if we can stop the release of this monster, or can put him back when he is, then killing the Godling and destroying the formula for the elixir will assure he never has a chance to be freed again.”
We all nodded wordlessly.
“This has been a lot to take in. And I just want to finish clarifying what we know. I am sorry if my process is irritating. Feel free to leave now, if it is,” Zem said.
No one moved. I, for one, needed him to put it all together for me. I was overloaded and could no longer see the forest for the trees.
“All right. Good. I will pick up where I was before. So we know the hag has no idea we know about the temple and approximately where the tunnel entrance is located. This is good. We know we’re on the right path and will reach our destination safely. That’s even better news. That we know Devourers will be sending their people after us... well, I was expecting that. But at least we have a head-start. A day at least. Maybe more. Unless they have been preparing a ship in readiness for this outcome.”
“Which is very likely,” Shardra put in. “She has known for a long time that the key was to be found over the seas. And the priests are always well prepared for every eventuality.”
“So they will come. But they have to get to the coast and their ship– ”
“They will walk through their pool. The one I saw in the priest’s mind. They could be there now, for all we know. It is frighteningly instant,” I put in worriedly.
“I agree,” Shardra said. “I have seen them use the portal—that is what they call it—to take them wherever the person activating it with their blood wants to go. As long as that person has been there before, all they have to do is think about that destination and it opens up. It is then there for anyone to pass through. An army, if need be. But only as long as the blood lasts.”
That was an ingredient I hadn’t known. So they couldn’t go somewhere they haven’t been to before. Was that why we ended up at a way-station rather than right into the high priest’s hands? Because the priests who had us hadn’t been all the way to the tunnels before? Or even the temple? Had they lived their lives elsewhere, like the vineyard, and never visited their centre of activity? Maybe one of the priests we’d disabled had been the only one who could open the portal directly to the cave or temple. The ones left had to scramble for the closest destination in their memories.
Or maybe Laric’s nightmares had already started to take effect and their brains were so scrambled they couldn’t focus properly. Maybe we were lucky to have ended up somewhere real and not in the fracture mind of a priest in the throes of his nightmare. That was a scary thought.
“The blood lasts?” Zem asked. I hadn’t even registered that last comment.
“Yes. Blood provides the energy for the portal. The droplets are collected on a silver disc that has a slight depression in its centre. As the spell is chanted, the blood works with the intention of the chanter. The silver begins to soak up the blood, or that is how it appears. It soaks into the disc and powers the portal. When there is no more blood left, or the chanting stops, the portal closes.”
“So the more people you want to send through, the more blood you need to put on the plate, is that it?” Landor asked.
Shardra nodded. “Yes. I saw them send the mounted men who went after the blue-eyed man... Laric? I am sorry. I still do not know all your names. I am not good with names,” she apologised, stammering to a halt and blushing brightly.
“Yes. My name is Laric,” Laric said
in gentle encouragement. “My pretty face is memorable, my name, not so much.”
The other men groaned at his arrogance, but I could see they took it as it was meant: to ease Shardra’s discomfort. And it worked. She gave a little smile and went on.
“I saw it through the scrying pool. The hag was at the temple at the time. The men were at one of the remote locations, and someone was sent through to get them ready. Just a few drops to get the messenger there. A deep gash across the palm and mayhap as much as a thimble full of blood to get first one group through, and then another for the second group, when we saw you stop not far from where you rescued... Laric.” She smiled triumphantly at him and he smiled back.
“We have been remiss. Introductions all at once are never easy to remember,” Zem said. “I’m Zem, by the way. I have earth magic that gives me strength, speed and fighting skills.”
“That’s a good idea. Let’s do proper introductions so both Redin and Shardra know who they have been stuck with,” I said cheerily, before introducing myself.
The others followed suit and Redin and Shardra repeated our names as we said them.
“Do we send a featherling?” Prior asked after the introductions were over.
A cage of featherlings, whose home was the capital, had been sent to the ship by the administrators of Eastairshan.
“There is not much to say. Other than the map is likely accurate. It changes nothing,” Zem answered thoughtfully. “And we have to be sparing with the featherlings. There are only six, after all.”
“But the further we get from shore, the further they have to fly,” Prior argued. “Shouldn’t we use them while we can?”
“From what I understand,” Landor put in. “These featherlings can rest by roosting on the water, and catching fish to sustain themselves. I doubt we have to worry about them getting home from long distances, only the length of time it takes them to get there. It isn’t instantaneous like the Devourer’s portals.”
“Nothing is,” I grumbled. “Though I wouldn’t be volunteering to go through one of those things again. I still have the nightmare fear of exploding to contend with.”
