“Thank you.”
The figurine dives for the ground to build up speed and rockets back into the swarm. She shatters the carapaces of the beetles, spinning to strike as many of the insects as possible. With a roaring screech, the griffin zips in random directions to keep her enemies guessing as to where she will go and slow their advance on her friends. Twisting into a spiral, she blasts through the swarm and erupts from the rear in the hopes of breaking the solid formation. All she accomplishes is splattering the walls and floor with pulverized beetle, her wings dripping with the remains. Concerned about Fizzle and Jack, she races back into the fray and continues to smash the chattering insects.
At the other end of the swarm, the boy stumbles ahead with the drite on his head. Fizzle tries his best to keep the beetles off his friend, but there are too many for him to contain. He growls every time Jack whimpers in pain and smacks the attacker off before it can do anything more than break the child’s skin. Hoping to turn the insects against each other, he releases thick puffs of his rainbow breath. The fake mist does nothing and another large beetle sprouts spines to tackle Fizzle, piercing the drite’s soft body. The pair tumble to the floor, which leaves Jack to defend himself.
“Help me!” the boy shouts as he swings his backpack at the hungry beetles. Moving against the wall, he can see a ladder a few feet away. “I find way out! Follow me!”
Jack hurries for the ladder, but the pain from the biting beetles and his roiling hunger causes him to fall. He tries to hide under his backpack and kicks his legs, his strikes occasionally hitting a buzzing insect. Fizzle jumps onto the boy and attacks all the creatures while the spiny beetle continues thrashing against his plush side. The cries and whimpers of the child drives the drite mad with anger and frustration.
“Leave new friend alone!” Fizzle screams, spinning into the air. He growls in Draconic as his body shimmers a vivid yellow, the light attracting the insects. “Make bugs go poof!”
Fizzle flies into the churning swarm and releases a disintegration spell that destroys most of the beetles. Rounded grooves are in the stone for the entire length of the blast that can be felt by those walking above. The handful of surviving bugs retreat into the distant shadows as the destructive magic veers up and punches a hole in the sewer’s ceiling. The drite lands next to Jack to coax the boy toward the ladder, but a loud crash makes both of them jump. Turning around, they see the smoking half of a small tree has tumbled into the gaping crater.
“Do you and your friends have to destroy my garden during every visit?” Willow asks, the powerful caster appearing at the bottom of the ladder. Her white robe and ankle-length hair hover above the dirty ground so that she remains a pristine vision of beauty. “I hope you have a good reason for all of this. Cyril is already trying to find Nyx and demand an explanation. Are you trapped in a toy, Fizzle?”
The drite darts around the caster, happy to have made it to their destination. “Nyx not with us. Fizzle and others cursed by Yola Biggs. Luke find Fizzle and new friend. Little one not have home or parents. Can you help?”
“My name is Jack Pursin and I’m five,” the boy declares as he stares at the woman. He is mesmerized by her amber eyes, averting his gaze when she crouches in front of him. “I promise to be good.”
“I am sure you will be, sweetie,” the gentle woman says while stroking his sticky cheek. The dirt on his face dissolves and his blonde hair untangles, the clumps of dry muck falling to the floor. “We can discuss everything after getting this young man a bath, clean clothes and a hot meal. You mentioned that Luke is here. Where is he?”
Fizzle looks at the smoking hole and the remains of the beetles that were not entirely swallowed by the spell. Darting around the area, all he can find are the broken wings of the griffin near the edge of the walkway. They are partially melted from the spell, but the drite cannot tell how they came off his friend. One of the wings looks to have snapped at the joint while the other is soft like moist putty.
“Fizzle make friend go poof?” the drite whimpers, letting Jack pick him up and hug him tightly. “Fizzle sorry.”
11
Yola whistles as her eyes flutter open, their color shifting from white to red to a swirling pink. She sits up to look around the strange landscape of dark stone, moist sand, and cracked coral. Turning her head to the sky, the goddess is amused that all she can see is the inky darkness of the ocean depths. Fish and other marine creatures lie dead throughout the circular area, including an enormous hammerhead shark. More of the predators are swimming on the other side of the watery dome that surrounds the patch of dry, uneven land. Yola walks to the edge of the clearing and reaches out to pet one of the deadly animals, but a shock of pain shoots through her body when she touches the wall. She stomps her foot like an impudent child, which shakes the ground and sends a ripple throughout the ocean.
Curious and bored, the trapped deity claps her hands over her head and hears someone imitate the noise behind her. Turning only her upper body, Yola sees Aeriel standing a few yards away. The other woman’s body is in the same position as the Chaos Goddess, so her face is hidden from view. When Yola spins her lower half to match her torso, her companion imitates the maneuver and wavers on her feet. The green-haired deity moves in a circle, which is matched by her rival and reveals that Aeriel is still unconscious. Recognizing the fun she can have, the Chaos Goddess stretches her arms. In perfect sync, the Insanity Goddess performs every step, scratch, and silly dance that Yola does. With a cruel smile, the mischievous woman gets Aeriel to tie her red and silver hair in large knots. Wondering how far she can go, she pulls her arm off and squeals with joy when the snoring deity does the same.
“Limb fight!” Yola shouts, swinging her arm like a club. She forgets about the other side of this new game, so she is stunned when her enemy smacks her in the face. “This isn’t fun anymore. I want to go home, but we’re tangled. Wake up, little goddess. Come on. At least say something and entertain me.”
Yola reattaches her arm and swiftly approaches the other goddess, the two nearly ramming into each other. Aeriel remains unconscious even when she is tickled and her rival licks her cheek with a long, sloppy tongue. Every action is repeated on the Chaos Goddess, who gets annoyed and smacks the other woman across the face. She is ready for the incoming attack and ducks quickly, which is mimicked by her puppet and causes the blow to connect. Feeling more malicious and frustrated by the second, Yola searches for a tool and grins when she finds a large, dead sea urchin. She backs away to lead her enemy to the spikey creature, being careful not to trip and ruin her plan. When Aeriel is in position, she is made to pick up the dangerous animal and slap it on her rear. The spines pierce the silver gown of the Insanity Goddess and her crimson eyes fly open from the jolt of pain.
“Damn you, Yola!” Aeriel shouts, leaping into the air and clawing at the sea urchin. She is confused when she sees her sworn enemy do the same thing, a look of glee and fear on the Chaos Goddess’s face. “We’re tangled! This is why you should have given your power and title to me right away. We’re trapped until we can separate and recover our lost energy. That could take years, Yola. I’m too young and ambitious to lose all that time.”
“Your followers will miss you,” the green-haired goddess says as she goes to give Aeriel a hug. She senses her companion trying to resist, but the older deity easily wins the power struggle and completes the rib-crushing embrace. “I know how you feel. My dearest pet was left behind on Ambervale when I was sent away. I think his named was Odigar. He was so cute with a twitchy nose and a fluffy tail.”
“Odigar is the God of Order and your twin brother.”
“My twin brother is a rabbit?”
Aeriel violently shoves Yola away and screams when the force of her attack sends her into the barrier. Orange sparks fly from the water and her back opens enough to release shimmering blood, which attracts the sharks. One of them leaps out of the ocean and clamps its mouth around the surprised goddess’s head. The beast helple
ssly thrashes as Aeriel walks away from the wall, her acute senses helping her keep track of her rival. Grabbing the long-tailed predator by the jaws, the Insanity Goddess pries it off and slams it over her enemy like forcing a glove onto a twitching hand. The beast is shoved down far enough to swallow Yola to her knees, which causes the animal to die from shock and trauma.
“That wasn’t very nice,” the Chaos Goddess says as she wriggles out of the dead shark. She strokes the large beast and transforms it into a purple squid with razor-like tentacles. “Go have fun with your friends, little one.”
“You can’t do that!” Aeriel shouts, stealing the new species and barely avoiding the counter grab. She tears the creature in half like a piece of paper and throws the remains to the hungry animals outside the dome. “This is why you got in trouble. You don’t have the authority to create new life, Yola. Thanks to you, we have all those lycanthropes when only werewolves and weretigers should exist.”
“I said I was sorry and that I had too much to drink at Zaria’s birthday party,” Yola whines while glaring at the other goddess. She is about to stomp her foot, but refuses to let Aeriel imitate her again. “The new creatures were my babies and Silvestris found places for them. Besides, I couldn’t remember how I made them, so I couldn’t unmake them. Eporwil should have been blamed for it because she made that fizzy water too strong. Now are we going to be friends and get some ice cream?”
“What’s ice cream?”
“Frozen cow juice with flavoring. I’ve made it before, but the cows are hard to squeeze when trapped in ice.”
“I assume you use a large press instead of your hands.”
“Oh, I much prefer to juice the old-fashioned way. So are we friends now?”
A maddening rage builds in Aeriel’s mind and the silver of her hair is swallowed by the red, which resembles fiery blood. “You are an embarrassment to your title! As the new Chaos Goddess, I will make sure every living thing remembers that I exist. I won’t let the other gods push their agendas and send visions to their people without a little random fun getting thrown into the mix. All you’ve done is hide in exile and you still have loyal followers, but they do nothing to promote disorder. Do Windemere a favor and give up your station, so I can do the work you should be doing.”
“Why not use your own followers?”
“Because I don’t have any!” the Insanity Goddess roars, her head growing twice its size and sprouting twisting horns. “Nobody wants to worship insanity because they think it is part of what you do. I have two shrines in this world and both are in your shadow. I mean physically placed in the shadow of a Yola Biggs statue. I’m a minor goddess connected to a major deity who gathers followers without doing anything. People flock to chaos because it is neither good nor evil and they want to make mischief. Imagine what an active Chaos Goddess could do.”
“I have.”
Yola snaps her fingers and the goddess’s intertwined auras unravel, leaving both of them drained and tired. They fall to their knees, but land in different poses, proving that the connection has been severed. Aeriel can feel a worm of fear wriggle into her heart at the realization that her rival could have fixed their situation at any moment. Her eyes widen and two extra sets appear on her face when Yola stands, the effects of the aura untangling having been shrugged off like it was nothing more than a mild sneeze. The older deity holds out her hands and all the color of her skin flows into a swirling ball of black and white. All that can be seen of the Chaos Goddess is her green hair and a clear body that resembles flawless glass.
“This is chaos,” Yola announces in a musical voice. The orb grows a face that cackles and screams before sinking back into the swirling energy. “It does not wish to control others or be controlled like you seem to believe. It exists and will always exist because that is how it has always been and always shall be. Chaos never has to prove its influence or importance because it does not care. Neither this energy nor I have any ambition beyond living. That is why I do nothing to tame this power and have retained it in my exile. We bonded on the day I was born and have been together ever since. Now if you wish to hold the title then you can have it, but you are not worthy to hold even a drop of this precious essence.”
“Not worthy,” Aeriel repeats, razor whips growing out of her back. Getting on all fours like a wild animal, she lashes the rocky ground in frustration. “I am the Goddess of Insanity! I was spawned from chaos and will claim it as my own. Don’t you dare tell me that I’m unfit to replace you. I’ll kill you if I have to!”
“Again, you misunderstand this force,” the elder deity states as she sits on the orb and floats toward the ceiling. She runs her transparent hand through the water, the jolt of pain making her giggle before she flicks the sensation into a dead octopus that explodes. “It can never be claimed even by the gods. All one can do is accept it and enjoy the ride for all eternity. I do not wish to harm you, little one, but I will defend myself. There is still time for you to give up and return to Ambervale. Besides, I do not think you fully comprehend what you are requesting.”
The other goddess foams at the mouth and shivers with rage. “I’m demanding that you give me your power. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”
“Such a foolish child,” Yola chuckles before she bends in half to kiss the chaos energy. The orb coos and burbles in joy at its vessel’s affection while the pair drift to the ground. “You are blind to the obvious. I speak with clarity now because I do not have this in my head. Constant voices and whimsical thoughts that want to do everything that has ever been dreamed of and more. I let them fight within my frame and the stronger ones get their wish. As long as it does not endanger all of us because chaos is not stupid. Forgetful, spontaneous, and silly, but never stupid. I sense that you could never handle the pressure of my role. Perhaps all you need is more time to mature and then chaos will accept you as its new vessel.”
Aeriel screeches and leaps at Yola, her back whips striking at the pulsing sphere. She is thrown back by the explosion that sends swirling ooze splattering over the clearing. Her skin and teeth ache from the wave of force that spreads for miles across the ocean. The Insanity Goddess stays on her back and watches the chaotic aura seep into the deceased sea creatures. The bodies shudder as the raw energy mends, reanimates, and twists them into bizarre abominations that Windemere has never seen before. A high-pitched whistle causes the newly created beasts to retreat through the wall and vanish into the distant depths.
“Chaos can create life and usher in death,” Yola says as her barely visible form materializes next to Aeriel. The scattered ooze flows across the earth and returns the goddess’s body to its beautiful black and white hue. “You are too angry. This ancient power will consume you and then come home to me. Believe that I do this for your own good, little godling.”
“I’ll rip your throat out!” Aeriel screams, multiple limbs sprouting from her flesh. Each hand turns into a unique weapon and her legs lengthen with several pairs of knees appearing along them. “I will be the Goddess of Chaos even if I have to devour every scrap of you. That power is mine by birthright.”
With a tired sigh, Yola vanishes and reappears far behind the other goddess. A spike grows out of her nose before she fires her face like a cannonball. The projectile hits Aeriel in the shoulder and sends her crashing to the ground. The Chaos Goddess’s tongue snakes out to wrap around her rival’s and slap the woman in the face a few times. The disembodied face screams in agony when it is chewed up by a metal-toothed maw that bursts from the younger goddess’s flesh. Splitting into multiple versions of herself, the Insanity Goddess surrounds her floating enemy.
“I have friends too,” Yola happily declares while clapping her hands. “Everyone play nice and finish your meals.”
Shadowy versions of the goddess’s allies appear around her, including a shirtless version of Baron Kernaghan. The fake Trinity unleashes a stream of pink lightning while Nyder spits gobs of fiery oil and soars on metallic wings. Unleashing
a united yell about wanting to sleep, the other shadows join in the battle as Aeriel creates more doubles. With their servants battling around them, the goddesses join in by hurling random objects at each other. The raw power that is unleashed is barely contained by the shuddering dome and waves of force roll across the open seas. Neither goddess notices the churning water above them, which gets stronger and faster with every ocean-shaking blow.
*****
“Uh, Dariana?” Claria says as she knocks on her passenger’s door. She glances at the elegant woman standing next to her, the goddess’s red hair shining in the dim hallway. “I know you wanted to get some sleep because you’ve been pushing yourself for the last few days. It’s just that you have a guest. The woman appeared on deck and claims to be your mother. I’m not going to ask since I feel like I already know too much about your situation. In fact, never hire me and my crew again after this.”
“Has it been that bad?” Zaria asks the captain who towers over the Purity Goddess. “I was under the impression that this trip has been uneventful.”
The orc cracks her knuckles, suddenly bowing in case such an act can be mistaken for a threat. “That’s what worries me, milady. Something like this should be a challenge from the beginning. Instead, we haven’t seen a hint of danger. I don’t like it. Anyway, I’ll let you two have your privacy. I assume you’ll leave as mysteriously as you appeared.”
Zaria patiently waits for the captain to be out of sight before she glides through the locked door. She is met by a mess of blankets, sailors’ clothing, and empty waterskins that spans most of the creaky floor. Asleep on the unmade cot is her daughter, clothed in a borrowed nightgown that has very few uses left before it is nothing more than a rag. A bowl with the remains of a simple fish dinner is near the exhausted telepath’s hand and her fingers gently tap the rim in a steady rhythm. Zaria sits on a chair that is next to the bed and pushes a lock of silver hair from the young woman’s face.
The Merchant of Nevra Coil (Legends of Windemere Book 8) Page 25
