The Second God

by Pauline M. Ross

  After a while, the islands thinned out and we found ourselves flying over sizable stretches of water. A larger than usual island loomed up ahead of us, and as we began to fly over it, I became aware that Sho-heest’s magic had now shifted, and was veering to one side.

  “Down there!” I thought to both men, and banked a little to curve round.

  Then began the tricky part. Sho-heest was somewhere on that island, of that I was sure, but working out precisely where was going to be a challenge. Would he be aware of us? Almost certainly, and if he had somewhere magical to hide, like the scribery on the sacred island, he could make it very difficult for me to pin him down. Even the simple act of moving about would be confusing. But we had come to look for him and that was what we would do, flying back and forth, back and forth, shifting direction, easing closer and closer.

  He didn’t move, didn’t run away and hide, didn’t seem to have a plan at all. And as we neared him, his magic grew and grew in my mind.

  “He’s in the trees near that big beach,” I told them.

  “We will land there, and search on foot,” Ly said.

  Again, there was a great churning as Kalmander settled himself on the dunes that fringed the beach. This time I persuaded Sunshine to land on the strip of grass between the dunes and the trees. It was still sandy, but threw up far less choking debris than anywhere on the beach itself. As soon as I dismounted, she hopped off to sit with the two larger eagles.

  “Now what?” Arran said. “That is a lot of forest to search.”

  “We are not intending to search all of it,” Ly said. “Drina knows where he is. And he is alone. Well, he has his lion with him. But there are no other people.”

  “There’s no need to enter the forest at all,” I said calmly, settling cross-legged on the grass.

  Arran looked at me in surprise. “No? Then how are we going to find him?”

  “We aren’t. He is going to find us. Or rather, me. He will be drawn to me, just as Ly was, remember?”

  “I still am,” Ly said. “Or rather, my magic is, but now I have better control over it. Sho-heest has never met Drina, he has no control over his magic and he will be drawn, yes. But it could take some time. If you recall, when we first met, it was several sun-crossings before the lure became irresistible.”

  “Then we will wait,” I said.

  “Very well,” Ly said, settling beside me, while Arran prowled restlessly about.

  A low rumble of thunder in the distance told us the storm was getting closer. With luck, we would be finished here in time to flee back to the township before the worst weather hit.

  I sat, focusing on Sho-heest’s magic that was no great distance from me. A hundred, maybe two hundred paces away, the boy god waited. His mind was closed to me, but he was a byan shar, so that was hardly surprising. Beside him, his lion crouched, and I could see all the aggression in the beast’s mind. Looking through its eyes gave me no information, though, for its view was only of trees.

  Movement. The magic shifted slightly, and then, almost imperceptibly, began to move nearer.

  “He’s coming,” I said quietly.

  “So is the lion,” Arran said. “He is calm, though.”

  I wished I knew whether Sho-heest was calm. Ly, perhaps, would have a better idea of what it felt like, to be drawn against your will towards the hungry void inside me, the emptiness that pulled magic towards itself.

  “You must not let him touch you,” Ly said, but I didn’t need to be told. Perhaps my blood-bonded self would be able to resist the attraction of a byan shar, but I dared not risk it. I remembered all too well, as Ly must too, the horrible compulsion that had swept us both when he had first touched me, and the frantic coupling that followed. Only when I’d learned to take his magic from him were we free of that.

  Sho-heest emerged from the shadows of the forest, the lion at his side. He wore simple peasant trousers, cut short for working in, and a plain shirt. His feet were bare. It shocked me how young he looked. He was barely fifteen, and yet here he was, left alone to deal with us because his mother had thought I couldn’t find him. That was a huge mistake. He knew who I was and what I could do, that much was clear. I couldn’t look into his mind, but I could read the turmoil of emotions on his face, and the fear in his eyes.

  The lion sat down on its haunches, alert and swishing its tail, but clearly under control. Sho-heest, however, had no such control. Step by reluctant step he came nearer to me, his eyes fixed on mine in a desperate plea for release.

  I stood, and held up one hand. “Sorry,” I said, even though he couldn’t understand me. Then I did what I had to do, reaching out with my mind to take all his magic.

  His jaw dropped. There was relief in his face, too, but then his eyes narrowed. “What do you want? You’re not allowed here. This is my island.”

  Ly laughed. As a tactic to unsettle an opponent, it would have been an impressive move, but I think he was genuinely amused by this presumptuous upstart. “I am byan shar. I go where I wish,” he said.

  “You’re a traitor!” the boy cried. “You’ve been replaced. I am byan shar now.”

  The lion growled, rising to its feet. Ly lifted one hand towards it, and it came no closer.

  “I’m not your enemy, Sho-heest,” Ly said mildly. “We should talk. I can help you to deal with all this. I’ve been through everything you’re experiencing. Don’t you want to know what will happen, how it will feel?”

  “I want you to go away! Leave me alone! Go back to Bennamore or—”

  “Or what?” Ly said, smiling. “What do you think you can do to me?”

  “This!”

  The lion sprang. Ly yelled something, hand raised, but the lion came on anyway. Gods, but those legs were powerful! It covered the fifty paces from the forest edge in a flash, heading straight for Ly.

  There was yelling, a woman’s voice, the rasp of a sword being drawn, the eagles screeching. The lion crouched to spring, Ly screamed at it as it took off, flying towards him, and the amber pendant at his throat glinted as he moved. I shrieked, my mind frantically scrabbling for something, anything I could do. How could anyone deter a creature that size? It was impossible. Ly would die, here in front of my eyes.

  And yet, somehow, it twisted in mid-air, changing direction. But now it was heading straight for me. I froze, too horrified to move. There was nowhere to run to, no way to stop that beast now that it was in motion, no time. I was going to die. The huge jaws opened, dripping saliva from rows of massive teeth. Its head was so huge I could see nothing else but that great slavering mouth.

  Then there was nothing.

  21: The Cottage

  I was in emptiness. No sight, no sound, no feeling in my body at all. Could I be dead? Surely not. Even being mauled by a giant lion would not lead to instantaneous death. There would be pain, at least, some agonising last moments before my life drained away.

  And my mind was still here to wonder what had happened. Not just my own mind, either. There was Arran, very close by, on fire with a raging fury, but recognisably himself. And Ly, his mind filled with distress. The magical pulse that was Sho-heest a little further away. The lion – I should be able to detect the lion, too, but he was gone, somehow.

  It didn’t take me long to work it out. Whatever had happened to Arran had now happened to me. I would be lying on the ground, perhaps broken by the lion’s powerful jaws, cut off from the physical world but still alive. Still myself.

  “Ly?” I ventured. “Ly? I’m still here.”

  “Drina? Oh ancestors, oh gods, oh ancestors, I thought you must be dead!”

  “No. It’s the same thing that happened to Arran.”

  A momentary silence, then Arran’s rage abruptly turned to joy. Ly must have told him I was all right. “Drina? Oh Drina!”

  Then Ly’s voice in my mind, very gentle. “You are safe now, Princess. I have you in my arms, holding you. Nothing can hurt you. You are perfectly safe. Relax, everything is fine now. Nothing at all
to be afraid of. There now, sweet Princess. I have you safe.”

  I believed him. Neither his mind nor Arran’s registered any fear at all, just joy and relief, with a low level of anxiety. The lion had vanished, and Sho-heest was motionless some distance away. Whatever had happened, the threat was gone, and both Ly and Arran were with me. I was free from danger.

  As soon as I allowed my mind to be calm again, I snapped back to awareness, the transition just as shockingly abrupt as the original change. Ly’s face filled my vision, bending over me, one arm supporting my head, the other stroking my hair. The wind rustled trees in the distance, while waves plashed against the shore. Somewhere, someone was sobbing softly. There was warmth, the buzz of insects, a strand of spiny beach grass prickling my cheek. But no pain. I was not injured.

  “Ly? I’m back,” I said, struggling to sit up.

  He gasped, then lifted me, supporting my back. There was Arran, crouched beside me, a huge smile on his face. Beyond him, the lion lay sprawled on its side, unmoving, blood spread everywhere. Some distance away, its severed head, the jaws still wide apart, one eye staring sightlessly at the sky. And near the trees, the boy god knelt, tears streaming down his face, a woman comforting him.

  “Who is she?” I said. “I didn’t detect her at all.”

  “She must not be bonded,” Ly said. “Undetectable to all of us.”

  “Oh.” But I had a more pressing concern. “What happened to me?”

  “Ah, a very good question,” Ly said. “You should be dead, Princess. That lion had your head in its mouth, shaking you like an old rag. Then it threw you to the ground and began chewing your arm. Yet there is not a scratch on you.”

  “My arm? Which arm?” I looked at first one, then the other. Not only no blood, but not so much as a tear in my sleeve. “Really?”

  “Really,” Arran said. “It was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen, my love. I can hardly believe you are still here. And unscathed. I cannot understand it.”

  “It is interesting,” Ly said, pensively. “This has happened twice now, first to you, Arran, now to Drina. Both times you were under attack, then you lost all outer sensation, and later it returned. Both of you were uninjured.”

  “Yes, but what does it mean?” Arran said.

  “I believe it is a defensive mechanism. The stones thrown at you – well, perhaps they all missed, who can say for sure? It was not so clear then what was going on. But Drina should be dead, and yet here she is, quite unharmed. It is as if her whole body, even her clothes, had been covered by some kind of protective shell, invisible but very powerful. Even the jaws of the lion could not break it.”

  “I still don’t understand,” I said. “I’ve never had any ability like that before. It would have been useful if I had, especially at Greenstone Ford! There was no protective shell then.”

  “No, it is because of the blood-bonding,” Ly said. “Because we share blood now, we also share whatever connections we had before. Arran can now understand languages, just as you and I can. You can both communicate directly with bonded Clanfolk, just as I can. And everything is amplified, much stronger, which is why this protection is so dramatic when it occurs. But one of us must have had it before, in a more modest way. It was not me, and not you either, Drina, so it must have been Arran.”

  “No,” Arran said at once. “No, I never had any such thing. I still bear the scars from the Icthari assassin.”

  That silenced us. I remembered that night all too well, the black-clad figure slipping through the window and Arran grabbing his sword, defending my life without any hesitation. And when he had fallen, his blood spilling to the floor… yet it had only been a scratch. A mage had been sent for, but the guards had bandaged him up long before he arrived. Was it possible that Arran had, even then, had some kind of protection?

  I didn’t know what to think about any of it. Everything was too confusing, a thousand emotions flitting through me, none settling. I was relieved, though, for I had survived, and we were all three of us unharmed despite the lion’s attack. Which should not have happened, now that I thought about it.

  “Weren’t you supposed to be able to control the lion?” I said to Ly.

  He pulled a rueful face. “It seems that a lion bonded to Sho-heest will obey his orders above mine. Although it did turn aside at the last moment from attacking me, so it recognised my power, at least. But I will not be so complacent, in future.”

  “In the meantime, what are we to do about him?” I pointed to Sho-heest, still huddled on the ground, a bundle of abject misery.

  Ly heaved a sigh. “Was I ever so pathetic a sight? He is not much of a god.”

  “You had your pathetic moments, too,” I said, with a smile, remembering. “You were very young for such responsibility – as he is.”

  Thunder rumbled, closer this time. My own crisis had absorbed me so much that I hadn’t noticed the sky darkening and the wind freshening. The lake now was a mass of white-capped waves, and the nearest trees were beginning to sway. The rain would be upon us soon. It looked like we had missed our opportunity to avoid the storm.

  “We should find shelter,” I said.

  “He will know where to go,” Arran said, indicating Sho-heest.

  Arran picked up his sword where it lay in the grass, and with a few deft swipes cleaned the blood from it. He didn’t sheathe it, though, holding it straight in front of him as we walked towards Sho-heest, in the combat-ready position. I understood his caution. Sho-heest looked unthreatening now, but there was no knowing how he might react to us. So we paced steadily, not rushing, trying not to panic the boy.

  He jumped to his feet, terror written all over his face. The woman murmured something, clinging to his arm, and he nodded. I wished again that I had some insight into their emotions. I was getting used to reading these Clanfolk mentally, and it was disconcerting to be thrown back onto facial expressions and gestures and the way the body was held. But I’d had years of experience at Yannassia’s court interpreting these subtle signs in people trained from an early age to concealment, and Sho-heest wasn’t even trying to hide his fear. The woman was a few years older than him, at a guess, and more difficult to read. I would have to watch her carefully.

  “Do you want me to kill them?” Arran said in conversational tones as we drew near.

  The boy gasped, but again the woman whispered something, and he calmed at once, although eyeing the sword warily. “I’m so sorry! I never meant… it was a mistake… please forgive me.”

  Ly looked at him sternly. They were similar in height, but the younger man shrank under his gaze, seeming smaller. “We mean you no harm,” Ly said. “My only wish is to talk to you. But you must promise not to attack us again.”

  A long pause, as he gazed blankly at Ly. “I promise,” he said. “Truly, I’m sorry. I… I wasn’t thinking straight. You took me by surprise and I panicked a bit. And now my beautiful Warrior is dead, and that’s my fault, I know.”

  “And she must promise too,” Ly said, looking at the woman.

  “I promise,” she said, before Sho-heest could speak. “I have no quarrel with you, byan shar.”

  “She’s the first one who hasn’t,” I muttered. She looked at me unsmiling. She was a skinny little thing, all jutting elbows and shoulder-blades, and not especially pretty, which made me wonder why he had chosen this one, in particular, to bring with him to his island. The women we’d seen in the castle were much prettier.

  “Very well,” Ly said. “Arran, put away your sword, but keep it close. Sho-heest, the storm is almost upon us. We must all take shelter.”

  Sho-heest stared at Ly, mouth agape. I wondered why it was so difficult for him to understand. The wind was whipping around us, and the sky was black as ebony.

  “We must take them to the cottage, Sho,” the woman said. “It’s not far.”

  Again he looked blank. Was he slow in the head? Surely it wasn’t a difficult idea, seeking shelter from a storm. Another, much louder rumble o
f thunder decided the matter, and then, far out across the lake, a crack of lightning. With a quick nod of the head, he turned and entered the forest, the woman at his side, and we followed cautiously, although the prospect of trickery seemed unlikely. At once, we were out of reach of the worst of the wind. Above us, leaves rattled and smaller branches swayed, but we were sheltered. Nothing could protect us from the rain, though, and soon fat drops were spattering onto us. Sho sped up, and we found ourselves trotting and then racing through the trees, following a narrow trail.

  Within moments we were surrounded by stone buildings, low to the ground. Sho ducked under the lintel of one of them, the woman on his heels. They vanished into the dark interior.

  Ly stopped on the threshold. “No lions in there, at least,” he said. But who knew what else might be waiting for us, there in the darkness? The rain began to tear down in earnest, and still we hesitated.

  The woman’s face appeared in the doorway, holding a lamp aloft. “Drier inside,” she said. Then she vanished.

  “I will go first,” Arran said. Pulling a long knife from his belt, he stepped into the darkness. Ly and I followed.

  It really was a cottage, that was the first surprise. It could have been transplanted from any farming village in Bennamore, except that the roof was tiled rather than thatched or turfed. There was one long room with simple wooden furnishings, and a range dominating one wall where several pots were steaming, exuding tempting aromas. Small oil lamps on shelves provided low lighting. Several curtained-off alcoves could have been storage or sleeping spaces, it was hard to tell. At either end, doorways led to other rooms, but again curtains hid the contents from view.

  Sho was hunched over the fire, feeding it wood and making adjustments with a poker. The woman put the lamp into a niche, pulled a large wooden screen across the entrance in place of a door, and then a curtain covering that. It made the room almost cosy, although rain hammered on the roof and the wind rattled the shutters. Turning to face us, she said, “Please, sit down. Do you want some besh?”