by M. M. Perry
Chort gripped the cane in his hand. The swirled, smoky pattern of the stone it was fashioned from seemed to writhe under his grip, creating an illusion that a thunderous storm was somehow trapped within the staff, and might erupt from it at any moment.
“Very well,” he said. “I accept that you know my story. Though I expect you are leaving out a great deal of derision.”
Cass remained silent.
“No one else knows this. I trust you with it, because I think there is something happening here that will change everything. Living amongst humans while pretending to be a useless god has some advantages. You actually listen to them from time to time. You hear things. Ages and ages of hearing things, you begin to put pieces together. You know, for instance, a baby was found in the middle of the Plains of the Dead Gods. You know a warrior was able to escape Oshia’s trap. You learn that great prophecies are being unearthed. And when dragons, a beast long thought dead by even the gods, appear in the sky, you know it may be time to use your stick of death. Yes,” Chort chuckled at Cass’ surprised look, “you even know all the names people call you when they think you can’t hear them.”
“You really think the sti.. cane is powerful?” Cass asked, prodding as gently as she could. She did not want to spook Chort, or let him know why he was really on this voyage with them.
“Yes. Because I know the rest of the story of the cane. The rest of the story is why no one thinks I’m a threat. Why no one worries about weak, pathetic Chort. You see, I’m pretty sure my father is not actually Kepsos, but Apsos. Not only did the old one give me his cane of conversion, but my mother often spoke to me fondly of Apsos, and they would secret themselves away from the world together from time to time.”
“So Apsos is your father? And Hadra’s as well?”
“No, Hadra is still of Kepsos. As I said, gods do not labor under the rules set upon mortals. Both Sala and Apsos wanted to hide their child from the rest of the gods. A time long ago, it was ruled by the other old gods that Apsos should have no child. Apsos is one of the first gods. Some gods say the very first. The first gods are… in a sense, feared by the others even though the old gods consider the first their brothers and sisters. There was concern his child would fulfill a prophecy of the gods’ own destruction. Yes, even gods have their own foretelling’s. Theirs was that a child born from a god would bring an end to all gods. Now of course they all believe that god to be Oshia. But I know better. All gods it said. I believe I am that god, and that new and old, their fate is mine. But Sala and Apsos didn’t think so. They just wanted to have a child together. So Sala concocted a way to gain Kepsos’ seed. And in her belly grew both the child of Kepsos and Apsos.”
“So all of it’s untrue? About Hadra taking your power?”
“No. That part is unfortunately true. Somehow, in the womb, Hadra took everything. When we were born, my mother was afraid to show me favor over Hadra for fear her ruse would be found out. I was given little attention. Apsos, who though much disappointed with me, did take pity on me. He gave me the staff he had used to create the djinn. It has the power to take energy from one life force and give power to another. He took the life force from everything in Xenor except the men who sought godhood, and then funneled that energy into those men. They became djinn. Apsos forged the staff himself, just for this purpose. He put much of his own power into the cane. It is rumored he imbued the cane with power he stole from others as well. It could be true. Shortly before the djinn were created, Bula disappeared. And a few other, lesser gods as well. It matters little what went into it, just that it is very powerful. Apsos thought giving it to me it would serve as reparation for my childhood. For his own inability to aid me. He couldn’t, really. He had used so much of his power in creating the djinn, he wasn’t much of a god himself anymore.”
“Why didn’t he just keep using the staff, to give himself more power, or destroy it and take his power back? I just don’t see a god remaining powerless of their own will.”
“No, we would not. But Apsos was afraid to use the staff again. All the gods thought the djinn were an abomination and far too powerful. Apsos himself was unsure what would happen should he use the cane again. And destroying it was out of the question. He told me once he feared the power would simply dissipate instead of returning to him. So he gave it to me.”
Cass didn’t want to express her doubts on the authenticity of this story. She’d heard enough tales told by gods not to trust what they said. She suspected there might have been a darker origin to how Chort managed to get the staff. Before she’d heard Chort’s tale, she wouldn’t have thought it possible such a relatively powerless god could overpower one as prominent as Apsos. But if Chort was telling the truth, and the staff contained the greater part of Apsos’ strength in it, then the old god might have been weak enough to be overcome by his son. The story made Cass all the more wary of Selina’s vision.
“So you think you’re the god of the prophecy, the one destined to destroy the gods?” she asked as casually as she could muster.
“Yes. And I think you are meant to help me. The djinn are once again out in the world, not hiding away in their caverns. They are the key to unlocking the power of the cane.”
“Why the djinn?”
“The staff created them,” Chort said authoritatively, as if that answered the question clearly. Cass began to doubt Chort knew as much about the prophecy as he was trying to convince her. He had practically been bragging to her up until now, sharing details that she doubted anyone, even the gods, knew. For him to suddenly become reticently vague told her he was less sure of himself than he put on.
“What of the dragons?” she asked, pushing him a little.
“What of the dragons?” Chort said dismissively. “They are simply an omen, nothing more. They appeared now to tell me it was time. And also to tell me who to trust. You are the one who came in riding the dragons. You are the rest of the tale that will be sung in ages to come.”
Cass could sense Chort was trying to court her ego. She could see he still knew little of why warriors did what they did. Every encounter with the gods was similar. They all thought money, power and glory were what warriors sought. They never understood why someone would risk their life for anything less. Cass realized Chort had let her in on his secrets only because he thought the promise of glory would hook her into his scheme. She decided to play along for a while.
“How do I fit in all this? And why tell me now?”
“I will tell you how you fit in when the time comes. It is not important now. And I’m telling you now because you strike me as someone who can get things done. What I will ask of you is no small task. I know you will want some form of boon for this request. A sample of what is to come. A promise of my intentions. It’s clear Oshia is tormenting you. I will give you what Timta will not, for whatever reason that is. I will keep Oshia from coming to your dreams anymore.”
“Timta could have stopped this?” Cass said mostly to herself.
“Indeed. My only guess is she’s somehow hoping to lure Oshia into a trap using you as bait, yet again it seems. I have no interest in the petty contrivances of their wars. I only care that when they do battle, all the pieces are properly set and I have my chance. Once the djinn and gods all come together in the final push, I’ll be there to take my rightful place. It matters not that I haven’t even been called to Oshia’s summit, though I know it is happening. My connection to my brother lets me in on that much. If I were there, I could send the gods at each other easily enough. But after playing the role of a feckless fallen god for so long, doing so might reveal my duplicity. Travelling with you, I just seem like more of the bumbling idiot I’ve pretended to be all these years, off on another useless task I’ve been wooed to through the stroking of my ego.”
Cass struggled to keep the conversation going while also tucking all the information she was getting away for later consideration. Chort was clearly enjoying reveling in his new role as powerful ally, and she didn’t want
him to stop talking if he had anything else to say. After a few moments of silence, however, it was clear he was done for the time being.
“How can you stop Oshia?” she asked bluntly.
“Keep me near you as you sleep,” Chort said. Cass narrowed her gaze at him.
“No, no,” Chort continued. “Not like that. I don’t need to be in your bed, or even in your room. This deck, for instance, is close enough. I can keep him away merely by being near.”
“Well, maybe that’s why Timta hasn’t done it. She is leading a war after all,” Cass mumbled, trying to make sense of why Timta would be so cruel. Surely the god knew of her torment.
“No, Timta has the power to imbue an object with some of her strength. You could have an amulet for instance, or a ring or some other bauble. That’s all Timta would need to do. I have no such power. I can, if I’m thinking on it actively, keep gods from invading your head as you sleep. But I must be near. My strength is limited. Timta’s much less so.”
Chort stood then, gesturing for Cass to return to her room.
“I’m on duty now. I expect you to appreciate this gift for what it is. A small boon to you of honesty and peace of mind. Perhaps you will do me the courtesy of being loyal.”
Cass did appreciate the peace of mind. She was less sure of the honesty. She nodded at the god, smiling, before returning to her bed. She lay down beside Gunnarr, his deep breathing apparently uninterrupted by the conference she had just held outside. She rested her palm on his warm shoulder, feeling the slightly tacky skin under her hand. This was where Gunnarr was most at home, she knew—in a boat at sea. He slept more soundly at sea than he ever did on land. Cass imagined herself absorbing some of his calm through her hand, trying to steady herself so that she might once again fall asleep. She didn’t completely trust that Chort could do as he said but soon enough her eyes closed and her breathing settled as she drifted off into the first solid sleep she’d had in years.
It was difficult remaining out of Chort’s earshot, since he now believed himself integral to everything. In order to get away from Chort, so they could all talk in private, Gunnarr repaired rope while Cass aided him. Nat and Viola leaned nearby staring out at sea, trying their hardest to remain casual looking. Manfred just sat there, looking as natural as he could. Cass had decided to ignore his deceit for the time being. It was too important they get an opinion from someone who had a closer relationship with the gods for Cass to continue to keep him away. The bustle of the ship around them kept too many people from lingering long enough to hear what they were discussing.
“He said all that? Just out of the blue?” Viola was shocked any god would relay so much information. They all seemed a purposefully inscrutable bunch of beings to her.
“I think he wanted to get my attention. He’s been dismissed for so long as a nobody, a nothing. He is still a god, after all. He wants to be adored and worshipped. I think he’s desperate. And he did stop Oshia from harassing me. For that alone I’m willing to listen to him blather on for as long as he likes,” Cass responded. She held one end of the rope Gunnarr was braiding tightly. She could feel the tension in the rope change as Oshia’s name came up, Gunnarr’s eyes raised to meet hers and intense feelings, most of which she couldn’t discern, shot out at her.
“Do you think it’s true? Any of it?” Nat asked.
“I think he thinks some of it is true. I think he thinks he’s somehow monumentally important. I think he really doesn’t understand the importance of the dragons showing up. That’s my biggest clue to how little he really knows about all this. He seems to think they merely exist to be some great portent that only he can read properly. His ego is going to be our greatest weapon in all this. He’s so full of himself he can’t think of any other reason for this to be happening,” Cass replied.
Gunnarr dropped the rope and stood, getting ready to leave the group.
“I don’t like depending on gods for anything. We should trust nothing he says,” Gunnarr said pointedly, looking at Cass. “He could be lying about everything. He could even be a spy for Oshia. How convenient he has the power to do what no one else can. And he must remain close to you to do it. This is dangerous. Before we had to hide our discussions from far off gods. Now we must keep our words from god who is right beside us. I am finding this alliance to be a lot riskier now that this god has revealed he isn’t a bumbling idiot.”
Gunnarr began to walk away. Cass grabbed his hand tightly in hers.
“Then…let us act as if he’s lying. He is working towards his own end. That much we can count on. We know he wouldn’t be here for any other reason. So let us decide he is lying, at least in part. He may tell some truths, but we can’t be sure of what those truths are. So let us plan with that as our foundation. And we will rely on nothing from him. If he gives us something now, ok. But we will do nothing to keep his favor.”
Gunnarr took Cass’ hand in both of his and nodded.
“Ok.”
Cass steeled herself, then looked over to Manfred. His violet eyes were clear, but now, looking at him in the light of the mid-day sun, she could see what Callan was talking about. His clothes were tattered. His skin looked to be a lighter shade of blue than it had before. She felt a twinge of worry inside her gut. Despite his unwillingness to release her memories to her, he had been helpful to all of them. Without him, there would have been no dragons to talk to. They’d all have died that day in the dragon’s nest. And what she did remember when thinking back about the pub was that she had liked him. Friend was the word that matched the feeling that came up again and again whenever she tried to visualize that time. She could not deny her worry about his wellbeing now.
“What do you think, Manny,” she asked.
The djinn brightened at the moniker, to him a sign things might be getting back to normal between them.
“I’ve no idea why he thinks the djinn are instrumental. We’ve of course heard old tales of how Apsos made us. The staff, while not mentioned directly, is in the scrolls. My people ignored it. They thought it was a history, not a portent. Whether it is important or not, I think it wise to keep it nearby, since it is a simple thing to do as he requests. If he wanted us to perform some odious task, that would be one thing, but all he wishes is our reverence for now. It would be foolish to turn him out if there is a chance he is important in some way. I will also say this. Djinn have power almost equal to many gods. And we couldn’t discern those scrolls. What’s to say a god would be any better at reading significant signs? They can be just as foolish, if not more so, than mortals. Something to keep in mind. And of course,” Manfred added quietly, “the added benefit of not being Oshia’s plaything cannot be measured.”
Gunnarr stared down at the little man, angry for a moment because he felt challenged. It seemed as if the djinn was taking the huge Braldashadian to task for questioning such a gift at all. He let the anger go, realizing Manfred was right. The end of Cass’ torment was worth the little annoyance of towing Chort around with them.
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted as a bulky white bird landed on the railing near them. Tied to its chest was a large, wide, flat parcel. A note was attached.
“That’s a pretty large package for a teeton,” Viola said, carefully untying it from the bird. “It’s addressed to Cass.”
Viola passed the note and package over to Cass and then turned her attention back to the bird. She stroked the teeton’s chest while quietly telling it what a good job it had done. It cooed, ruffling up the feathers the package and the damp from the flight across the sea had plastered flat. Cass opened the note.
Cass,
The ambassador does indeed have some advice. I know. I myself am also surprised he offered help. He’s been in a mood. I hope he can’t read this. Or my mind. I better stop writing now. Anyway, he said you might need this. He said it may aid you in your travels should you need to give incentive to reluctant rulers.
Anya
Cass carefully unwrapped the package
to find a small piece of the night sky inside.
Chapter 8
The trip to Ledina was blissfully uneventful. The seas remained quiet, the skies clear, and the men who they had hired proved efficient deckhands, despite their lack of seafaring knowledge. The Cartan port city of Tendo was the largest city on Ledina, large enough to be visible in the distance when their ship was stopped two leagues from shore by a Cartan boarding ship, as was the custom in Ledina. The huge Faylendarian vessel dropped anchor and prepared for their indeterminate wait at anchor. Everyone who intended to go ashore climbed up to the main deck to await inspection by the Cartans.
Viola had quietly lined up next to Cass and Nat, and had been there several minutes before Cass finally noticed her.
“Oh, Viola, you can’t go ashore,” Cass said gently.
“Why not? I think I can handle a few elves,” Viola said stubbornly. If they didn’t let her go ashore, Viola had decided, then she might have put Julia through the wringer, risking their relationship, for nothing.
“No, you really can’t. I wouldn’t go myself if I weren’t immune. We can’t risk it,” Cass insisted.
Viola looked around the ship, wondering why she fought so hard, and why Cass had let her, to stay on this trip if she was only going to be left on the ship. Just then she had no idea why she assumed she would be allowed to set foot on Ledina.
“Don’t worry,” Nat said sensing Viola’s frustration. “You’re not going to get bored. You get to drill Chort for more info.”
“What?” Viola asked.
“He’s staying too,” Cass said. “I can’t see how he would help us find the seer. And, in fact, he may make it harder to get to where we need to go. Elves don’t fear much, but gods are one of the things you can invoke if you need to make them scatter for a short time. If this seer is living among elves and we come traipsing in with a god, he and the elves may go into hiding. I’d rather not take the risk. We’ve already gambled some of our precious time travelling here. We need to make sure we find the seer we came for.”
