CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN

by Verne, M. Scott

  Glaucus turned his attention to D’Molay. “So this is a man. They have not changed much.” He looked D’Molay directly in the eye. “I was a man once. But providence and the gods changed all that. Now I am immortal, so I can be miserable forever.”

  “You choose to be miserable. It doesn’t have to be that way, Glaucus.” Mazu’s sympathy for the old fish had its limits.

  “I’m not in the mood for your motherly advice, Mazu,” Glaucus growled. “What do you wish to know about the bat that hunts and carries? And what do you have to offer in exchange? Let us conduct this business so you can be gone from my sight! I need to get back in the water soon, so do not waste my time.” His fish tail swished back and forth in annoyance as he spoke to them.

  Mazu decided she had better lay their cards on the table before the old god threw them out. “Very well then, Glaucus, I apologize. I was just worried about you.”

  Glaucus made a scoffing sound before responding. “I think I know where your bat lives, but I don’t know where it takes all its victims. You could ask him yourself if I give you directions to his lair,” he said temptingly. “In exchange, I want you to bring me the head of Circe.”

  “The head of Circe?” Mazu exclaimed. “You know we can’t do that! It is forbidden by Council law for one deity to take the life of another without just cause. Paying a debt to you is not just cause.”

  Glaucus pointed at D’Molay. “He is not a deity. He is a ‘free man.’ If you want to know about your bat, that is my price, the head of Circe. If you cannot give me that then leave now, ere I cleave you in two and feed you to my lake creatures.” Glaucus angrily slumped back on his throne. He had asked this same favor of many a hero over the ages, but none had ever been able to bring him Circe’s head. It was the only punishment he deemed suitable for the witch who had stolen the only thing he’d ever cared about.

  D’Molay stepped forward. “The rules of the Council apply to me as well, but perhaps if you told me more I can find some way to do as you wish.” D’Molay couldn’t imagine a situation that would clear the way for him to behead an immortal, but he desperately needed Glaucus to tell what he knew. He was not above deception to get the information. Mazu was already frowning at him disapprovingly, but he ignored her.

  “Circe took Scylla from me, whose only crime was that I loved her,” Glaucus responded with great sorrow in his deep, creaky voice. “I loved Scylla, but she did not love me. In desperation, I turned to Circe to cast a love spell. Instead, Circe grew jealous and turned Scylla into a hideous creature. She was condemned to a horrible life stranded on a distant isle, luring men to their deaths. She is a monster now, with no memory of her former life as a nymph.”

  D’Molay seized on the similarities to his current problem for inspiration to plead his own case, “And that is just what I am trying to stop from happening again. A young innocent has been taken because of me and I must save her before it’s too late. Tell me what you know and I swear by the one God above that I will do everything within my power to do as you ask.” D’Molay had spoken with a conviction that he had not felt within himself in many years. He did not remember the last time he had promised anything upon the one God above; perhaps not since his time in Purgatory.

  Glaucus leaned forward with a degree of interest he hadn’t shown before. He furrowed his brow, rubbing his bearded chin with a blue-scaled hand. He took an appraising look at D’Molay, “I believe you would. You must be quite in love with this woman to make such an oath.”

  “It’s not love that drives me, but responsibility. My actions put her in danger and I must make it right before it’s too late,” D’Molay declared earnestly. He had failed such a task long ago, before he came to these realms. He would not let it happen again.

  “Please, Glaucus, tell us about this bat. I promise you, deity to deity, that we shall do what we can to restore Scylla, once we have saved Aavi. What harm will it do you to tell us?” Mazu moved closer to Glaucus as she pleaded, then knelt in the water and bowed reverently.

  This took both Glaucus and D’Molay by surprise. Gods never kneeled before other gods, unless they had been defeated in battle. Glaucus was uncomfortable seeing Mazu humble herself before him. “Stand up, Mazu. I am not worthy of such an honor,” he said with a tone of self-loathing in his voice.

  As she raised her head to look at Glaucus again, she spoke softly but firmly. “Then you agree to help us? We will pledge to help you after we have found the girl!”

  “Very well, damn you. Pledge to me you will restore Scylla, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

  Both D’Molay and Mazu knew what a pledge to a god meant. The pledge magic had been cast upon the entire realm of the gods by the Council ages ago. It was a mystical way to enforce agreements between anyone within the realms. It created a binding promise that would start to burn in the depths of one’s soul if they were not working towards what they had pledged to do. Only the god to whom the pledge was given could cancel the bond they would share. Pledges carried great risks. If one who bore a pledge failed to strive toward the goal, or the god to whom he was bound died, the bearer would get hotter and hotter until they literally burst into flame. It was an enormous risk to take a pledge like this, but they had little choice if they wanted answers.

  D’Molay took the lead. “I pledge that after I have found the girl Aavi and returned her to her home, I will devote myself to finding Scylla and restoring her from the spell of Circe. In exchange, you will give us all knowledge you have of the bat creature. This I do pledge to Glaucus the god of the lake.”

  “I, Mazu of the waters, pledge that after I have assisted in helping to find the girl Aavi, I shall devote myself to finding Scylla and restoring her from the spell of Circe. In exchange, you will give us all knowledge you have of the bat creature. This I do pledge to Glaucus the god of the lake.”

  Glaucus looked at each of them in turn. “I accept your pledges and will give you the knowledge you seek.”

  As soon as he said that, a pulsing yellow glow emanated from all three of them. It surged simultaneously one last time, before slowly fading away.

  “It is done, Glaucus said. He leaned in a little closer to them. “What I know has been told to me by the fish and animals of the lake, for they are my eyes and ears. I don’t remember the creature’s name, but I have been told it can speak. It abducts people and takes them to the City, so I don’t think it is killing them for food.” Glaucus seemed less annoyed and more cooperative now that the pledge was in place.

  D’Molay was relieved to hear about the creature, “Then Aavi may be safe!”

  “Perhaps, but there are many cults and slavers in the City,” said Mazu realistically. “But if it can speak, it can bargain.”

  “I don’t know where your bat goes in the City, but I believe it travels the Mayan and Asian realms near this lake in search of victims. I can tell you nothing of any of them, save one. A seagull told me it saw a bat creature take a young girl from the river a season or two ago, and then watched her tribe send warriors to attack the bats in caves near the Celestial Observatory in the Mayan Realm.” Glaucus leaned back, out of breath from talking. “I need to get back into the water for a moment.” He rolled off his throne and into the shallow water, wriggling through the shallows and disappearing into a deeper part of the pool.

  “Is this enough to go on?” Mazu asked as they watched the water churn. “You are the tracker here. Can you find Aavi?” She touched D’Molay on the arm as she looked into his eyes for an answer.

  “Yes. I can,” he said confidently. “We know much more than we did before. Now we have to arrange these puzzle pieces and decide what our next move should be. Do we go to the caves for more answers, or search the cults and slave pens of the City for Aavi?”

  “I don’t know,” Mazu said. “You have more experience searching in the City and the realms beyond it. You must choose.”

  D’Molay considered what he knew about the driving motivations of all beings. In his experience, g
reed trumped all other desires. “I think it grabs its victims and takes them to the City to sell them. I fear Aavi has been delivered to be a slave or a sacrifice.”

  There was a large splashing sound as Glaucus surfaced. “What, you’re both still here? I thought you’d be gone by now.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Mazu. “We were just deciding where to go next.”

  Glaucus pulled himself back onto his throne. “Perhaps that’s just as well. I don’t know how much help this will be, but I remembered the creature’s name while I was in the water. He is called Mordecai.”

  D’Molay and Mazu thanked the old god and left the crumbling temple. It was midday and the sun was high over the realm. “You were right, Mazu. He was the god to talk to. I think we found out as much as we can hope to expect, short of meeting someone who actually knows a bat named Mordecai.”

  “Fortune has smiled upon us. I only wish it had done so yesterday on Aavi,” Mazu said as she untied the rope and put it into the boat. She stepped in and prepared to cast off. She looked back at D’Molay expectantly as he stood on the ancient steps by the shore, his hands on his hips.

  “Where should we go, Mazu? It seems we have many parts of the City to search.”

  She looked back at him with a knowing smile on her face. “I know exactly where we are going. We are going to lunch.”

  “Lunch? We don’t have time for that! We’ve got to start searching for Aavi!” It was obvious he wanted to get underway as soon as possible.

  Mazu stared at him, unmoved by his outburst. “The most successful journey is the one planned and prepared for. Let us find a peaceful place where we may sit for a few moments and decide the best course of action.”

  “As you wish. I have a map of the realms we can use to plot our course.” D’Molay pushed the boat away from the shore and they started to drift along.

  Mazu wore a maternal smile that was hidden under the broad brim of her hat. “And I will take us to a nearby grove of cherry trees where you can get some food. We gods may not need to eat, but you do, D’Molay.”

  Their boat left Glaucus’s temple behind and drifted along the coast, but there was no doubt that they would have to return here one day to complete the pledge they had made.

  Chapter 15 - Search for the Tracker

  As Zephyrus pounded loudly on the front door of the small dwelling, Eros bid farewell to the Council servant who had escorted them to D’Molay’s address. The Freeman’s place lay near the curved end of a street ringed with similar modest homes. The one or two story stone and frame buildings were semi-detached, sharing narrow strips of land. Many residents had filled these plots with gardens or small vineyards. Some side yards were equipped with travel portals, glowing stone henges linked to other realms. Others had sparkling ponds dropping to unknown depths to connect with the vast underground waterways of the realms. D’Molay’s strip, however, was devoid of any transportation features or domestic projects. It was empty save for scattered weeds and a heap of outdoor gear sheltering under an oilskin tarp. Rather than a lived-in feel, his residence had an air of desertion about it, fitting with the tracker’s nomadic habits. The Council had advised Eros and Zephyrus that catching D’Molay at home was unlikely, but under orders to find him it seemed logical to check there.

  “Anybody home?” Zephyrus called loudly when no immediate response came to his knocking. A neighbor’s caged pet bird, displayed on an upper balcony, squawked indignantly at the god’s noisy presence. Zephyrus gave up on the door and moved to D’Molay’s window, cupping a hand against the wavy glass to peer inside. “Guess they were right about him being hard to find.”

  “He must be out working in the realms,” Eros remarked, glancing up briefly at the still-chattering bird’s silver feathers which flashed brightly through the bars of its cage.

  “But which one? This was all so much easier on Earth.” Zephyrus turned away from the window, exhaling in annoyance, the loose lid of a nearby barrel rattling under the force of his breath. “I’m going inside. Maybe there’s a clue.”

  Eros objected. “This isn’t Olympus where we can come and go as we please. Breaking locks is against City law.”

  “I don’t need to break the lock. Every house has some crack open to the winds. We have a standing invitation.” Zephyrus took a few steps back from the building to examine the overhanging eaves. Seeing what he had hoped for, a gap where the shingles met one end of the roof ridge, he changed to his cloud form. Floating up to the opening, he slowly seeped into the house. A minute or two later Eros heard the latch scrape free from the inside. The door swung inward to reveal Zephyrus, back in his flesh-and-blood guise.

  “I’m impressed,” Eros said begrudgingly, thinking of many instances where an ability to gain secret entry would have given him easier access to his own targets. Sometimes Zephyrus’s blunt ways made Eros forget he did have his talents. “But let’s not linger. Search quickly.” Eros moved into the house, leaving the door open to let in the light.

  Each god chose one side of the small house to search. Eros carefully examined the items on the tracker’s kitchen table and around his hearth, touching nothing but judging all with a keen eye. Zephyrus, by contrast, was more hands on. He emerged from D’Molay’s sleeping chamber carrying two heavy garments and a collection of hats and gloves.

  “He didn’t take his winter clothes,” Zeph commented. “So he probably didn’t go to the Cold Realms. What have you found?”

  Eros squatted by the cold ashes of D’Molay’s cooking fire. “They say the hearth is the heart of a house. I know a little bit about hearts.”

  Zephyrus watched as Eros held a hand out over the sooty bricks, concentrating. He was about to ask what Eros was doing when the sound of a man clearing his throat distracted him. A tradesman stood in the open doorway, goggling at Eros’s naked backside.

  “You must be D’Molay,” the tradesman said, turning his eyes to Zephyrus and the clothing in his hands. “I can tell by your fine assortment of traveling attire.” This judgment was punctuated by a sniff of disapproval directed at the other god’s nudity. The insult was completely ignored by Eros, however, who was still intent on whatever he was doing at the hearth.

  “I . . . what do you want?” Zephyrus stalled, letting the man’s assumption stand.

  “The cart broker engaged me to return your overpayment. He has a new clerk, who made an error when you rented the cart for your trip to Mazu’s Ferry.” He presented the god with a small pouch, which Zephyrus held awkwardly for a moment before dropping it into a pocket of one of the cloaks.

  “Mazu’s Ferry. Right, thanks a lot,” Zephyrus grinned, as the man’s words slowly sunk in.

  “My pleasure,” the tradesman nodded, lingering. He hooked his thumbs into the deep loops that supported the wide belt at his waist, both index fingers pointing down toward the pockets in the skirt of his smock to hint for a tip. Eros chose this moment to stand up and turn to face the man in his full bare glory. Mortified by the keen arousal that surged through him at the sight of the love god, the man abandoned his quest for lucre and made a hasty exit.

  “How about that? He just told us where D’Molay’s been,” Zephyrus said, dumping the cloaks on a nearby chair. Eros held out his hand, displaying something he’d gleaned from the hearth.

  “And this will point the way to where he is now.”

  All Zephyrus could see on Eros’s palm was a melted gray lump. “If you say so. What is it?”

  “It was something he loved once.” Eros carefully tucked the fragment in his left wing, a group of feathers cupping to provide a tiny pocket. “Humans sometimes pour their feelings into objects. Those emotions, loving or hateful, create a link to their source.”

  “Ah, I get it. You can track the tracker.”

  “To some extent. But first we have to get much closer to him, so off to Mazu’s Ferry we go.”

  They flew to the lakeside, but discovered that Mazu and her boat were nowhere to be found. A simple flag pinned to a post
signified the ferry was in transit. No destination was specified.

  “What is it with these City folk?” Zephyrus complained. “Is there a law here that makes them work endlessly?”

  “Maybe they like being busy,” Eros countered. “Some don’t value leisure as much as we Olympians.”

  “Free as the wind, that’s my motto,” Zephyrus maintained. “Where to now?”

  Eros reached over his shoulder and retrieved the lump of pewter. He kept his fist tightly closed around it as he gazed out over the water, only his head moving as he surveyed the horizon from right to left. “That way. The metal grows warm when I focus on that far shore.”

  A moment later, Eros took wing and Zephyrus blew out of the City after him. Boatmen in the waters below cursed and struggled with their sails as the Greek gods sped over their boats, Zephyrus’s trajectory causing the air and waves to shift, blowing everything on the water toward the Asian Realm. Eros did not notice the chaos below. His concentration was fixed on the item in his hand, its growing heat guiding him to land on a narrow shore where sand was slowly losing the battle against the advance of an immense bamboo forest. Joining him, Zephyrus gazed in wonder at the thick, tall wall of green facing them.