The Godseeker Duet

by David A Willson

  Bylo knew nothing would come from arguing with Anne and did as she asked, pouring the cavern ink from one of his larger containers into the small vial.

  "And a couple of needles. Just throw them in the vial."

  "I don't keep needles in vials, Anne," he protested. "I..."

  "Please?"

  He smiled and removed the stopper, dropped two needles inside, then capped the vial. "To the Oracle of Ankar, we all owe much. I'd be happy to throw needles into a tiny vial if such a small thing would please her."

  Anne chuckled. "I'm no such person anymore—just a one-eyed old woman. Now tuck it in your sock," she said. "Deep down, but be careful not to step on it. You wouldn't want to break it."

  "What is this for, Anne?"

  "You never know when you might need a little magic ink, young man."

  29

  Betrayal

  The Abbey at Eastway

  It was the oldest abbey in the Great Land. It was also the largest. The stone spires stood tall, visible to villagers and peasant farmers for miles around. Its opulence was a monument to the majesty of Dei, or perhaps instead a testament to the wealth of the church that had funded its construction centuries ago.

  In an office deep within the giant structure, General Cross stood with his hand clenched around the neck of a certain man of the cloth.

  "Nobody matching those descriptions has been here," the abbot said with difficulty. His voice was strained as he struggled against the fingers that encircled his throat. "I swear it. I swear to Dei."

  Cross towered over the man, pulling him close and growling in his face. What had begun as a polite conversation had quickly become an interrogation. He had never killed a priest and preferred not to start today, but his patience was growing thin. He pulled a dagger from its sheath and inspected it menacingly as he retained a grip on the abbot with his other hand.

  “Foolish man, I don't believe in gods," Cross said with disgust. "And invoking their names will do nothing for you today. I serve another master."

  He put the blade to the abbot's cheek and continued, articulating each word with deliberation and emphasis, wasting not a syllable. "And my master wants these people." The edge of the knife cut into the abbot’s skin as the man stiffened with the pain.

  "General." Almit entered the room, interrupting. "We may have something."

  Almit pulled a young monk into the room by the sleeve. "Tell General Cross what you told me."

  The young man shivered as he spoke, clearly overwhelmed by the circumstances. "Last night after dark, I was sweeping the south walkway." He turned and pointed out the window.

  "I was distracted by a light on the top of Crone's Hill."

  "Crone's Hill?" Cross asked.

  "It's what we call the plateau, a few miles to the south," the monk said. "There's a cabin on the hill. Our groundskeeper lives there."

  "Why should we care about that?" Cross asked.

  "Well, we haven't seen the old woman in some weeks," the monk said, "although that's not unusual for her. But it wasn't just a lantern light. It was bright. So bright I had to shield my eyes from it. Then it was gone."

  "It seemed to matter, sir," Almit added, shrugging.

  "It's the girl," Cross said, releasing his hand from the abbot's throat and dropping the cleric to the floor. He moved for the exit, dagger still in hand. "We go."

  Gwyn lingered in the cave after Nara's departure. Where did all the dirt go? Then she realized the answer to her question. The earth was right here but had been made into stone. The hard walls and ceiling were compressed earth, minerals re-purposed and made dense, providing strength and stability. Such an ability to shape earth, compacting it into stone in such a short time, spoke well of the girl's potential for military applications. A dozen men wouldn't complete this in a month, and they would require pillars and buttresses to keep the ceiling from falling down upon them. Fortifications, moats, bridges—this child could build anything with her talent.

  Gwyn left the cave and set on her way toward the abbey. A well-traveled path made for a quick hike and despite her promises, she would not be returning with supplies. There was no choice. Vorick would not be defeated. Nara's value was apparent, and there would be no standing in his way. Gwyn justified her actions by promising herself to urge mercy for Nara and Mykel. Perhaps there would be some redemption in that. Anne said that choices were what defined one's value. If that was true, then Gwyn's value was quite unimpressive right now.

  After a mile she stopped, unwilling to continue. She sat on a nearby log and closed her eyes. How long might Mykel last against trained killers? A minute? Two? Despite his ability to sense an opponent's actions and determine the best course for his own, she doubted he could defeat Cross. The man had slain hundreds, engaging in tournaments and battles in which he not only defeated his opponents, but struck so hard that he would crush spines, mangle legs, and bloody brains. He had developed, albeit without magic, an innate sense of how to strike and where to move, possessing a mastery of violence and death that had matured over decades. Mykel was out of his league, no matter what magic he wielded.

  But what about Nara? Her ability to command the earth could trap Cross in his own grave if she so willed. But even if she chose to stand tall, Nara would be vulnerable to Vorick.

  Hiding had been the smart choice, the only option for survival. The cavern would be revealed, raided and the children’s freedom taken. Secrets about magic and runes would all be given to Vorick in the last chapter of a very sad story.

  Doubts again invaded her calm, piercing the resolve she had used to cloak herself. Desire for self-preservation seemed small compared to the growing fear that harm would come to Nara, Mykel, Bylo, and Anne. She bit her lip in frustration. Again, she tried to convince herself that the time for indecision had passed, that this path had already been decided, but she couldn't do it.

  She rose from the log and turned toward the abbey, but couldn’t take the first step. A lifetime of loneliness and self-interest had made the meager trust she had earned in the last few weeks seem precious. She was afraid to throw it away.

  Neither could she stand against Cross and Vorick, but they weren't here. Not yet. If she could alert her friends in time, they could flee right now.

  Had Anne known that she would eventually change her mind? Was that why the old woman had not warned them? Gwyn had wasted so much time coming to this decision, and her thoughts raced to what needed to be done now. She would run back to the plateau and grab Nara, then retreat to the cavern. They would lock themselves inside while she broke the news to the others. Perhaps she would say that she had discovered Cross when she went to retrieve the supplies. Anne would know she was lying, but perhaps she wouldn't tell. Gwyn would explain later when they had more time. Then they would run. Further east, perhaps, where the population was sparse and Vorick's reach would be weaker.

  It was the best plan she could think of. She turned around and started back to the cavern, but before she took even a few steps, she heard movement on the path behind her. She spun to see two figures coming down the path. One was very large.

  "Khoury," the big one said.

  It was Cross. Her breath caught in her throat, and a shiver moved down her spine.

  "We've been looking for you,” he continued.

  A snowflake landed on the back of her hand and melted on her skin. She looked down to see more flakes land upon it. It was the first snowfall since their arrival in Eastway, announcing the coming of winter. A fitting omen. Anne had misjudged her. Gwyn had come to her decision too late, and this story would end today.

  "Hello, General," she said. "I've been waiting for you."

  Nara woke to find Mykel sitting nearby. "Is it time to eat?" she asked, sleepily.

  "Yes, but I couldn't bear to wake you."

  "It's okay," she said. "I was dreaming."

  "Good dreams?"

  "Yes," she said. "About you, actually."

  Mykel blushed and stuttered uncomfortably.


  "Not like that." She blushed in return. "You were strong and proud, fighting on the plateau against evil men." She stood, helped by his offered hand. "Saving me."

  He moved closer, still holding her hand. He was close, and she could feel his warm breath on her face as he spoke.

  "I'll always protect you, Bitty."

  "I know you will."

  He squeezed her hand, and her heart leaped in response. So close to her, she longed for him to move even closer, to kiss her, but something seemed to stop him and he released her hand. Old habits of keeping his distance had apparently taken over.

  "Anne says you have something to show us," he said. "But first we eat."

  They joined the others for a dinner of fruit and venison from a deer that had been killed by Gwyn that morning. Nara explained that Gwyn had left to the abbey for supplies and joked with Mykel about needing a shirt to cover his gaudy tattoo.

  Mykel seemed proud and confident, and his strength brought a feeling of security to Nara. The abundance of life in the cavern was also comforting, filling her with a sense of hope that had been largely absent in recent days. She thought of the wolf pups back in her little cave, and the joy of the earth magic as it moved under her fingers. Good things. Encouraging things.

  Maybe she could find a future with this handsome young man after all. He loved her, despite how fragile she often felt. She could sense his feelings but he always held back, probably thinking that he would break her. Or that she would reject him. He shouldn't worry, she wouldn't reject him. And today, she was happy.

  Anne walked behind the youths as they headed through the tunnel and outside the cavern, hand in hand. Young love was always beautiful to witness.

  Bylo came up alongside Anne. "They look good together."

  "Yes, they do," Anne said.

  They stopped as they approached the tunnel exit, the sounds of the creek bubbling up from the ground near their feet. Bylo looked toward Nara and Mykel as they disappeared along the path that led to the plateau. "How long before they marry, do you think?"

  Anne said nothing.

  "Anne?" Bylo asked, turning to her.

  "Yes?"

  "Thank you," he said.

  "For what?"

  "Everything."

  Bylo had no idea what was coming, and the strain of keeping it from him threatened to shatter Anne's resolve. Her voice cracked as she responded. "You're…welcome, Bylo." She longed to say something more, but feared it would be out of place and alert him.

  "Go on ahead," she said. "I forgot something."

  "Okay."

  Anne walked back into the cavern and into the sleeping area, retrieving a cup from Bylo's pack. She then entered the chamber that held the pool of ink. She filled the cup and used an ink-stained finger to trace the water rune inside the chamber, then exited as the stone rumbled, the door sliding shut. Outside the cavern, she performed the same task at the tunnel exit, locking the cavern tight. It would sit vacant for now.

  Tossing the ink into the stream outside, she ambled back to her cabin, the stained cup dangling on one finger. The weary cabin welcomed her home, a familiar but lonely abode. Her work was complete, for now. She had served her purpose. No, His purpose. There it was. The bitterness had returned. These last days had been rewarding but painful, and she was already reverting to the hard, crusty crone that had survived for so many years alone.

  You did well.

  He was back. She wanted to scream, to shout, to curse Him and wail, but she had nothing to give and settled for silence. She had prepared them well enough, but there would be pain to come, and she would not be there to guide them through it. Her efforts to stay strong in the face of this loss fell apart in a cascade of anger and sorrow. Then, in a lonely cabin on a cold night, the Oracle of Ankar set her head down on the old, weathered table and cried.

  30

  Capture

  Crone’s Hill

  Mykel was amazed by what Nara had crafted under the plateau. Even in the dim light, he could see the smooth stone—like that in the cavern—made with magic.

  "It's incredible," he said. "You're incredible."

  She beamed with pride, walking about the cave, brushing her hands against the stone. "The earth feels alive to me now. Really alive."

  Bylo entered behind Mykel a moment later. "Wow," he said. "How did you do it?"

  "I snuck a peek at your book when you weren't looking."

  "The earth rune?" Bylo asked.

  "Yes."

  Mykel set his staff down and leaned against the wall, trying to feel the life Nara spoke of. It was just cold stone to him. "You're an earth shaper," he said. "Like the cavern makers."

  "I am."

  A strange voice then boomed down the ramp, interrupting the moment. "You down there. Come out." The voice was deep and entirely unfriendly.

  Mykel retrieved the staff and gripped it fiercely as he sprinted toward the ramp. Just before reaching it, he turned back. "Both of you, stay here. Nara, if you need to, close the entrance." Even in the near darkness, Mykel could see that Nara's face was full of fear. He hoped she could use her magic in such a state.

  When he reached the top of the ramp, Mykel encountered two soldiers, each bearing a sword in their right hand. One of them was huge, even taller than Mykel, and twice as wide. Gwyn stood beyond the men.

  "Gwyn, what is this?" Mykel asked, confused.

  "Do as they say, Mykel."

  He looked into Gwyn's face. Was she afraid of the men, or… their ally?

  He couldn’t fathom it. Gwyn was a friend. She had saved them from bandits, helped train him, eaten meals with them. The idea that she was capable of betrayal was as painful as any blow these men might deliver, and Mykel banished the idea immediately.

  "We are here for the girl," the large man said.

  All thoughts of cooperation disappeared when he heard the stranger's demand. Everything Bylo had worried about was coming true. They wanted Nara, and they had involved Gwyn in their evil plans. His mind raced for an explanation. Had they blackmailed her? Held her family hostage?

  "You can't have her," Mykel said, moving into air stance and gripping the staff with both hands.

  The large man stepped forward, tightening the grip on his sword. He gestured for Gwyn and the other man to stand back. Gwyn obeyed him, offering no protest.

  "Gwyn, help us!" Mykel called in desperation, but she didn't move, and in a simple but telling act that confirmed his suspicions, she turned and walked away, leaving the plateau. Fury at her betrayal spurred Mykel to action. Realizing that he would battle the men alone, he tried to flare the staff's sight rune, but it danced away from him, blurry and indistinct. The large man's sword flashed, and Mykel brought up the staff, barely escaping injury as his parry diverted the blade from striking his face. This man was faster than he looked!

  Mykel tried again to find the sight rune, but it wouldn't come. The man slashed high. Mykel moved the staff to block but realized the feint too late. The blade dropped, steel cutting into the top of his thigh. A supremely skilled attack; even Gwyn didn't move that fast. Mykel reached for health, gratefully finding the familiar design without closing his eyes. The gash on his thigh closed.

  A flurry of attacks pushed Mykel down the ramp toward where Nara and Bylo stood, watching fearfully.

  "Stay back,” Mykel warned them.

  Mykel summoned his resolve, blocking most of the attacks, but several made it through, shallow cuts on his upper arms. The man bore no shield but somehow used his off hand to counterbalance himself as he swung his weapon, feet moving perfectly as he advanced, expertly, delivering blows as if he had practiced each move a million times. He moved from stance to stance, and Mykel thought he saw air stance briefly, but there were others.

  This giant must have mastered them all. I'm in big trouble.

  Thrust. Parry. Slash. Feint. Riposte. New wounds appeared on Mykel's left shoulder, his cheek, and the top of his head. Blood flowed.

  If Nara coul
d wall off the cavern with her earth shaping, she and Bylo might be safe until they could plan an escape. "Nara, close the tunnel," Mykel shouted. "I can't hold him off."

  He reached for the sight rune again, but with the confusion of the other runes dancing about, coupled with the chaos of the man's attack, he couldn't seize it. The protection rune wasn't protecting; it was creating confusion. If he had the staff's sight rune, he could win this fight, but he couldn't grasp it!

  Below, Mykel heard footsteps and looked to see Nara moving up the ramp.

  "Mykel!" she said fearfully, clearly recognizing the danger he was in.

  "Block the entrance!" Mykel ordered, desperation in his voice. "Or attack him. Do something! I can't find the runes," Mykel said, angry and frustrated. "I can't find them!"

  More blows. More wounds. More blood. Mykel stumbled to a knee.

  "I don't wish to murder you, boy. I'm only here for her," the man said matter-of-factly. The voice was completely without passion, as if cutting men apart and kidnapping young women were everyday chores for him. "Give her up, and I'll leave."

  "No!" Mykel bellowed, then stood and pushed forward.

  Nara backed off at first, shocked by the sudden attack. She was torn between concern for Mykel, who was now bleeding from multiple wounds, and from a reluctance to close them all inside a tomb. She knew no way to attack the men; she could only build caves, talk to animals, or make her hands glow with light. None of that would stop men with swords, would it? But if she didn't act, Mykel might die, and the horror of it made her shudder. Where was Anne when Nara needed her? She thought of what she had learned about the earth, about it taking care of her. About how she had battled along Mykel's side during his training.

  She kicked off her shoes and knelt to the ground, bare feet and palms touching the soft dirt of the ramp. She flared the earth rune in her mind and reached down with her magic to feel the warmth within the soil, coaxing it, waking it. The earth wanted to know what shape to become, and she had no idea what to say. All she could do was feed her energy into the soil. Mykel's bare feet were in direct contact with the earth. She sensed his pain and anger. Then Nara and her magic launched forward into him.