The Second God

by Pauline M. Ross

  He sniggered. “Exactly. What about the war-beasts? They will have to cross.”

  “They’re big enough to swim.”

  “Excellent. So tell me what you need for this summoning.”

  Hethryn’s guards created a small shelter for Sho, and he began the summoning. Unlike Ly, he had no ability to select individuals or types of war-beasts, so we knew that everyone would come. Then we could use Ly’s lion guard to control groups of beasts, which would relieve Sho of that responsibility. I was terrified that he would fall into the same animal state as Ly, when he’d gone to war against Bennamore, but Ly himself was optimistic.

  “He has you to help him, and you have the amber and the lion guard. After the summoning, he will not need to do much except act as a conduit for messages between groups. And I will help, too.”

  “What help can you give him, from so far away?” I grumbled.

  “Distance does not matter to us,” he said. “We are together, even when there is half a continent between us.”

  That might be so, but being together in mind was not at all like being together physically, wrapped around each other under the same blankets. And Arran was just as unreachable, even though if he stood on one of the towers I’d be able to see him clearly. I missed him with a fierce ache, dreaming of his beloved face and waking always to that moment of panic – was he still alive? And the relief surging through me when I felt that constant thread that told me all was well, for now.

  And so we waited, for the army and war-beasts to arrive, for Trimon to decide what do with Arran, for Ly to reach Dragon Mountain, for this horrible war to reach its final throes.

  ~~~~~

  “Drina? Arran? I am here.”

  Ly’s voice dragged me away from the camp, where we were eating our evening stew.

  “The blue pool?”

  “Not quite, but we have reached the tunnel entrance. It is only a short way inside. We are just getting torches lit and then Dain and I will go in.”

  “Dain? Why Dain? Why not all of you?”

  “Tradition, Drina! It is always a brother or sister who takes the prospective elder to the pool cavern. Or a close friend. Someone of the same age, anyway. Besides, Dain wants to try to become an elder himself, now that he is here.”

  Something prickled at me. I wasn’t sure I liked Ly trusting himself to Dain, whose mind still harboured some resentment, who’d said very clearly that he would never aid Ly. Yet here he was, being the helpful brother. Had they patched up their quarrel on the journey? They’d been travelling together for many suns, and I’d been too distracted to pay much attention but it was possible, I supposed. In his mind, I saw only a fizzing excitement, which mirrored Ly’s, but they were both hard to read, for some reason. Perhaps whatever magic emanated from this blue pool was affecting my connections with them.

  I watched the preparations. It was almost dark there, too, but I supposed if they were going into a tunnel, the hour made no difference. They had a campfire lit, and some torches they’d obviously prepared along the way, or brought with them. Dain’s wolf lay nearby, head on paws, and Diamond was perched not far away, although invisible in the evening gloom.

  “Now, sit and I will explain what you must do,” Ly’s grandfather said, his face flickering eerily in the firelight.

  The two brothers sat side by side, opposite the two older men. Seeing them together like this, the family resemblance between father and son was strong. And Dain had it too, a certain shape to chin and nose, the rather rounded lines of the body. Ly was the odd one out here, taking after his mother, and his brother at the trading camp, Brey.

  “It isn’t far to the pool,” Do-haem said. “A hundred paces, then the tunnel turns a little to the right and begins to go downhill. Another hundred and fifty paces, then a bend to the left. No more than sixty or seventy paces further on, you come into the old egg chamber. The pool is in the third tunnel leading out of there, counting to the left. You will know it because it glows, but you must remember to count so that you know which tunnel to come back by. This whole mountain is a moundrat’s nest, with tunnels criss-crossing everywhere, and if you get lost you may never find your way out.”

  “Is there anything living in the tunnels?” Ly asked.

  Dain sniggered. “What, you think the dragon might be hiding away somewhere?”

  “No, the dragons are long gone from this part of the world. But Drina mentioned reading about something that lived in the old dragon tunnels—”

  “Morodaim,” I put in, but he didn’t hear me.

  “—I forget the name. Dragon helpers. Little creatures.”

  Dain sniggered again. Do-haem shook his head. “I have no memory of such a thing. I don’t say she’s wrong, but I’ve never heard of it. When you get to the blue pool, it will pull you. The younger you are, the more powerful, the greater the pull. You must not touch the water or fall in, do you understand? Either is fatal. You just take this spoon and scoop a little of the blue water into a cup. Then you drink it. Even a small amount is enough.”

  “What will the effects be?” Ly said. “Will it make us sick or disoriented or dizzy?”

  “No, nothing like that. Just be sure to stand well back from the pool while you drink, in case you lose your balance accidentally. But Little-Ly, you will need to take great care. With your power…”

  “I understand.”

  “Then go, both of you, and may the gods and the ancestors smile on you.”

  They both made the gesture of respect, and rose to their feet. Then, without a second glance, they each took a torch and walked into the darkness beyond the circle of the campfire. Ahead of them, a circle of deeper darkness became the tunnel entrance as they drew closer. There was no cave, or fissure, just a neat circular hole in the side of the mountain, slightly above the rocky slope the two men walked on. Someone had placed slabs of stone as a rough set of steps, so that they could climb up to the tunnel itself.

  “Drina? Ly is not answering me,” Arran said mournfully. “Is he all right, do you think?”

  “I don’t think he can hear us at the moment – too much magic in the air.” But his other question was unanswerable. Only time would reveal whether Ly was all right.

  Inside, the tunnel was almost perfectly circular, but wide enough that it was easy to walk along, perhaps twenty or thirty paces across. It was hard to see the walls in the flickering torchlight, but they weren’t smooth. Here and there, I noticed marks that looked like scrapes from giant claws.

  The two men walked in silence, their footfalls echoing hollowly. Even though I couldn’t see into their minds, I could still watch through their eyes, although it was hard to see much in the darkness. The tunnel turned this way and that, and then they were in the egg chamber, a vast rounded space whose deep shadows the torches couldn’t penetrate. Through the chamber, and into another tunnel, and now I could see the blue glow ahead. The blue pool.

  The tunnel widened into an oval chamber, eerie in the glow from the water. The pool was a long, narrow gash across the floor, so narrow that someone with long legs could have jumped right across it. I couldn’t see how deep it was, for the blue water was opaque. I would have given anything at that moment to see into Ly’s mind, to know whether he feared the water, or was drawn to it, or felt nothing much at all. And what did he think of his brother? Could he see Dain’s emotions, or was he as suddenly blind as I was?

  “Do you want to go first?” Ly said. His voice sounded calm to me, but I was so unused to judging his moods that way that I couldn’t be sure.

  Dain exhaled noisily. “This is a big moment. Are you… feeling anything?”

  “Am I drawn to it? Of course. It’s very powerful, whatever it is. But I can resist the pull of it. I don’t think I’m in any danger. What about you?”

  “I… it’s fascinating, but… I can fight it. Let’s sit down, shall we? We shouldn’t rush at this.”

  “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Ly’s voice was level, as i
f they were talking about a hunting trip. “It’s all right to turn back.”

  “Ancestors, Ly, don’t tell me what to do!” I didn’t need to see Dain’s mind that time, for every word sizzled with anger. “You think you’re so important, don’t you? You can force me to obey your every whim, but that doesn’t make me like you or respect you.”

  “Dain, I don’t think—”

  “No, just shut up and listen to me.” He was jabbing at Ly’s chest with a finger. “You don’t understand what this is about, do you? We were so proud of you, and now look at you! You’re an abomination! A byan shar is supposed to lead his people, to unite them, to inspire them. Even if you didn’t want to breed your great army, you could have travelled around to show yourself, let people know what sort of man you are. Instead you hid behind that witch’s skirts. You weren’t even in the Clanlands, you were in some other country entirely. And now – now – you want to fight a war, and have all your powers. And why? Because the witch’s country is threatened. Can you blame us for despairing of you? Why do you think we sent a plea?”

  “The plea? What do you know of that?”

  “Only that your own brother went off to make it, because he was braver than you’ll ever be. He went to the witch’s country and made the plea and never came back. What happened to him, Ly? What did you do to your own brother?” He was still stabbing Ly’s chest with his finger, and Ly was inching backwards. In sudden fear, I switched to looking through Dain’s eyes, saw the water glowing close behind Ly.

  “Mind the pool!” I yelled, feeling the sharp terror in Arran’s mind too, but Ly couldn’t hear me.

  “My brother? Are you crazy? I only have you and Brey, no other brothers.”

  “But you did, for a while. He was fifteen when he left here. Cho-dachoin was his name, and he was his mother’s darling, and his father’s favourite son. And he wanted you to turn onto a different path, so he went to the place of stone and made a plea to the gods.”

  “Oh ancestors! I had no idea I even had another brother.” Ly stepped back again, but this time he looked behind him and edged away from the pool. It was safe for me to breathe again.

  “Of course you didn’t, because you never came back to find out, did you? You stayed with your witch and forgot about your true family. But whether you knew or not, you killed him, Ly. You killed your own brother. The price for that is death, and I’m going to make you pay.”

  A larger step away from the pool, finally realising his danger. But it was too late.

  Dain lunged forward and pushed Ly hard, backwards. It was such a violent shove that Ly had no chance to regain his balance. He shot sideways, face filled with horror, and fell across the pool with such force that I heard the crack of his skull on the far edge. Pain seared through my head for an instant. Then Ly slipped limply into the water, and within a heartbeat sank below the surface. The pain vanished and the little piece of him in my mind winked out.

  Ly was gone.

  42: Siege

  “Drina? Is he… is he really… gone? Because I can’t feel him at all.”

  “I think he’s dead.” I couldn’t keep the disbelief out of my voice. How was it possible? I was frozen in shock, my mind not able to grasp what had happened.

  “They said… falling in was fatal, but surely he cannot just be… not there?”

  “He hit his head as he fell, so even if…” I couldn’t finish the thought. It was too sudden, too terrible for me to cope with.

  “Yes, there was a huge pain and then… nothing.”

  We fell into silence, both of us too stunned to speak, numb with disbelief.

  Then, almost a whisper. “We never even said goodbye.”

  I was still connected to Dain, still looking through his eyes. He was pacing up and down at the side of the pool as if watching for Ly to bob up again and haul himself out. That was impossible, but Dain didn’t know that. When you’ve just murdered your own brother, you would want to make sure he was really dead.

  But after a while, I wondered whether that was all that was in his mind. Back and forth, back and forth he prowled like a wolf, muttering to himself, although I couldn’t pick out any coherent words. Then he fumbled around in his pockets and pulled something out. The spoon. So he was still going to try to become an elder.

  Twice he stopped, knelt down, reached with the spoon and then drew back. The third time he couldn’t even get close to the water. Hurling the spoon into the water, he picked up both the torches and made his way back to the entrance. I half hoped he’d forget the way, but even if he had, there was a mark carved into the wall at head height on both sides of the tunnel leading out. It was hard to miss.

  He emerged to two worried faces. Somewhere in the darkness, Diamond was emitted an unearthly keening sound. He knew, and the two older men guessed. The wolf whined, and sat upright.

  “What’s happened? Where’s Little-Ly?” Dea-famaar said as soon as he saw Dain. “Did he…? Oh, no, no, not Little-Ly. Oh ancestors, no, I can’t bear it, not him, no.”

  Do-haem embraced Dain and led him nearer to the fire. “Tell us everything, my grandson.”

  “He… he fell in. I couldn’t do anything. He… stood there for a moment. I was getting the spoon out, getting ready, not paying much attention. When I turned round, he just sort of toppled in. I was too far away…”

  “Now, now, it wasn’t your fault,” Do-haem said, squeezing Dain’s shoulder. “He had too much power to try it, that’s the truth of it. He shouldn’t have taken the chance.”

  “I tried to change his mind, you know that. This is exactly what I was afraid of.”

  “You mustn’t blame yourself. He was a man, he was byan shar, he made the decision himself, understanding the risks.”

  “But there should have been something I could have done!” Dain cried, and the wolf howled in sympathy.

  That was the point where I snapped. He’d murdered my husband, and now he was being treated as if he was suffering, too. Ly was the victim here, and me, and Arran, and I wasn’t going to let Dain get away with it. I had the amber pendant, Ly had given me the authority to compel any of his people. I didn’t know how to do it, and maybe it wouldn’t work without Ly anyway, but I was determined to try.

  “You will obey me,” I thought. Then, focusing harder, “You will obey me. You will tell the truth. You will obey me. You will tell the truth.”

  Dain gasped. “No,” he whispered.

  “You will obey me. You will tell the truth.”

  “No, no, no!” A high wail of despair. The wolf howled.

  “You will obey me. You will tell the truth.”

  He sank to his knees. “No,” his voice said, but his mind said, “I will obey you.”

  “You will tell the truth.”

  “I will tell the truth.” He raised his eyes to the two men watching him anxiously. “I will tell the truth. I killed Ly. I pushed him into the pool. I killed him.”

  Then he lowered his head and sobbed. The wolf howled and howled. Something hit Dain hard on the head, and I lost my connection to him.

  “Drina, that was amazing,” Arran said. “But he is gone. Is he dead as well?”

  “I don’t know, but he said the price for killing a brother was death, so…” I left the thought unfinished, for it was too horrible to contemplate. Ly’s father had already lost two sons, must he now lose another? Perhaps he would even be expected to carry out the execution himself.

  I opened my eyes. It was disorienting to find myself still sitting at the fire, my plate of food untouched on the ground. Hethryn was crouched in front of me.

  “Are you all right, Drina?” he said. “You have been gone for a while, and then that yellow stone started glowing.”

  But it was all too much. I scrambled to my feet and ran to my tent. All I wanted was to talk to Arran, my last remaining love.

  “Now it’s just the two of us,” I said.

  For a little while. And then I would be alone.

  ~~~~~

&n
bsp; The golden army retreat was over. The Rinnfarr Gap contingent had marched up the road. The ones from Dellonar had simply marched across the open plains, leaving a neat trail the width of six men walking abreast. Now they were all walled up inside Greenstone Ford, and the middle section of the bridge, its stone removed to show the wood beneath, was burned. The town was closing itself off from the outside, preparing for the siege.

  Gradually the grassland around the town had been filled with a different kind of army, the brown uniforms of Bennamore and the green and black and white of the coastal towns. Tents and pavilions had sprung up, fires lit, and even from the hilltop watch post, I could hear singing each evening, and the constant steady rumble of many people and horses and wagons. To the north, the first lions and wolves had appeared, with eagles overhead, and then a group of moa, their long legs carrying them fast over open ground. A sun or two later, the first few tapran. They’d stayed well away from the encamped soldiers, although they were well under the control of the lion guard.

  I no longer cared. I lay in my tent all night, my mind stretching out uselessly for Ly, hoping against all the evidence that he was still alive. He’d been a part of my life for so long I couldn’t accept that he wasn’t there any more. I’ve heard it said that soldiers with limbs amputated still feel pain in the missing part, even years after it had gone, and that was a little how I felt. My mind just wouldn’t accept the truth. I couldn’t even cry, it was so unreal.

  With the dawn, I had to drag myself to life again, explain it all to Hethryn, try to carry on, somehow. Sho’s summoning was still going on, and he needed my care too. And Arran. I wanted to spend every moment with Arran, now that his time was running out. How long would Trimon wait?

  I had an answer of a sort that afternoon, when he went to see Arran. I no longer needed Arran’s call to alert me, for I felt his small burst of alarm at once. His routine was very settled, and any change was a worry.

  Trimon came alone, carrying nothing. A flask of wine and a box would have signalled a convivial couple of hours playing some sort of game. Sometimes he brought a book for Arran to read, when he found one in Bennamorian. Arran wasn’t much of a reader, but just now he was avid for any sort of distraction. Once Trimon had read something in his own language to Arran, but it was in essence a paean of praise for the Sublime Dragon God of the Wind, which wasn’t even interesting, although it seemed to amuse Trimon.