An Unexpected Deity (Book 7)

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “What about the one in the water?” Woven asked.

  “When I make Decimindion’s water return to the lake, the monster will be killed,” Kestrel answered. “I just have to run past it.”

  “We have to go quickly,” Stillwater warned. “The Uniontown forces are close.”

  “Wait until I hit the water running, then shoot the monster,” Kestrel said. He flashed a quick grin at the others, then suddenly stepped out into the open, jogging sedately towards the end of the lake. He crossed half the distance of the open plaza space before the Viathins noticed, and upon noticing him, the monster in the water gave a tremendous bellow, a resounding roar of anger that reverberated off the mountainsides and echoed away into the distance.

  The monster that was on the land rose to its feet and started to run towards Kestrel, while the Viathin in the lake began to swim along the shoreline in his direction. As Kestrel approached the shoreline he suddenly broke into a full sprint, racing across the last yards of the stony surface to pick up speed. His acceleration caught both the monsters by surprise, and they both belatedly began to try to narrow the gap that Kestrel was seeking to widen.

  Kestrel approached the edge of the water, the beautiful blue water that was now a grayish-blue as it reflected the cloudy sky above. As his feet left the ground he heard the faint twang of Wren’s bowstring. His feet touched the water and he began to speed across the surface of the lake, while the monster on the land suddenly gasped behind Kestrel, and then the Viathin in the water gave another bellow of anger.

  The lake was a long body of water, one that stretched hundreds of yards in length, and Kestrel knew that he could not outsprint the Viathin the entire distance he needed to cover. The bank on his right was the rough and uninviting remains of the road that had followed the shore; it offered few places he could quickly climb away from the water to gain safety from the monster that was in pursuit of him.

  The left shore had a few small sandy coves he could run towards, and he began to veer in that direction. As he did, he heard a distant bellow, a roar from a Viathin other than the one that was chasing him, and he cut abruptly towards the shore line, as he waved his arm to signal for Stillwater to approach him. The new Viathin had appeared sooner than Kestrel had expected.

  “Stillwater! Tell them to start climbing to the far end of the lake; tell them to follow me to the cave. And tell them to hurry!” Kestrel instructed the imp as his feet touched the ground, then carried him up the steep banks out of the reach of the Viathin that was only a few yards behind him. He was starting to gasp for breath, but he needed to reach his goal, and the sound of an answering Viathin drove him to fear that he had less time than he had expected. He scrambled along the shoreline, the Viathin shadowing him in the water, staying even with him as his progress was slowed by the uneven terrain he climbed over.

  Kestrel reached another spot where a small sandy beach offered re-entry to the water’s surface. He stopped and took a deep breath, ready to resume his water-top sprint. He looked up, and saw that Wren and Woven were climbing along the shoreline; they were not easy to spot as they moved in and out among the stones and tree trunks along the shady western side of the lake. He thought that sheltering them in the distant cave, along with his own people, was their best chance for survival until the enchanted water did its work.

  He took a leap, and pulled his feet up as he passed over the waterborne monster, which lunged upward in a futile attempt to snag him in midair. The monster fell back into the water with a loud splash, and Kestrel started sprinting again,

  He heard a shout, and saw that Uniontown soldiers, wearing the red tunics he so despised, were coming into view, bringing with them a half dozen captives in the green and yellow uniforms of Duke Listay. Kestrel continued on in his journey, then heard the splashing of the Viathin in the water, again starting to close the lead Kestrel held, so he again headed for the closest shoreline he thought he could climb up, and jumped up onto the stones there, again just a few feet ahead of the Viathin’s arrival.

  He staggered backwards and leaned against a stone as he panted. Stillwater came swooping down towards him, as the monster in the water snapped futilely at him, unable to rise up to where he stood, momentarily secure, though still a hundred feet away from the cave and the flowing spring. He stared intently at the top of the cave and saw to his relief that the water skin still sat there, its spout pointed upright so that its contents did not release into the lake.

  “Kestrel-water walker, there are more soldiers coming up the road behind these, and a great monster comes with them!” the imp reported.

  Kestrel pulled his knife free and threw it at the Viathin that was trying once again to heave up out of the water at him; the blade slid into the reptile’s chest, and the creature bellowed and thrashed wildly as it fell back into the lake, turning the water cloudy with the dark stain of its blood.

  “Go get a stick and see if you can distract those guards around the captives,” Kestrel told the imp, who immediately departed, while Kestrel began to climb towards his goal.

  “Lucretia, return,” he called as he climbed and panted.

  “Wren and Woven,” he called in the language of the gnomes, “when Stillwater distracts the guards, see if you can kill enough of them to help the captives escape,” Kestrel directed. “There are more Uniontown forces coming,” he added.

  Wren gave a silent nod. She and Woven were not far away from him now, only a few dozen yards of stony mountainside separated them. The distance from them to the emerging forces was long, but within Wren’s range, Kestrel was confident.

  Kestrel’s knife reached his hand, and suddenly Stillwater screamed as he flew down at the unprepared back side of the Uniontown guards. He stuck his crude spear in one of the guards, then flew straight up and back in the direction he had come from, drawing the attention of all the guards in red. Wren shot an arrow, as Woven heaved one of the plentiful stones nearby, then they each released a second weapon, while Kestrel threw his knife at one of the captors as well.

  There were numerous shouts of pain, and the captives seemed to instinctively understand what was happening. Stuart threw his shoulder at one of the guards, knocking the man down, and two of his supporters followed suit. Stillwater returned to combat with his second spear and harmed another guard, so that the green and yellow suddenly outnumbered the red forces that closely guarded them.

  “Come this way!” Kestrel shouted. “There are more guards coming up the road! Come to us!” he called.

  Lark bent and took a sword from a dead guard, then began attacking one of the living guards.

  “Lucretia, return!” Kestrel called. He realized abruptly that he hadn’t moved, that he still needed to get to the water skin, and he began climbing once again. He stopped to catch the returning knife, saw that the captives were beginning to break free, and he threw the knife again, at one Uniontown soldier who stood in the way of the successful escape.

  Kestrel began climbing again, looking over at the battle from time to time. Wren’s arrows and Woven’s stone were holding the soldiers back, as the yellow and green captives broke free and began to scramble up onto the jagged rocks that Wren and Woven had climbed over. The Uniontown soldiers began to retreat out of range of their attackers, then – once they were safe – they pulled their own bows free and began to shoot arrows at Listay’s people, who were slowly climbing and picking a way across the rock slide.

  One man went down with an arrow in his back, and more of the shafts began to fly perilously close to the escapees. Kestrel was nearly to the water skin, just a few feet away, but he felt compelled to pause his efforts momentarily to attempt to help Stuart and the others. With a sharp intake of breath, he focused his energy, then projected it towards the escaping men and their young ward. Kestrel created a blue disk of energy, a protective shield to block arrows headed towards the yellow and green clad squad – it was a strain to project the energy at such a distance away from his own position, but he managed to put it
in place and hold it there, moving it forward as the climbers hurried towards Woven and Wren.

  He watched as Wren moved closer to the approaching party, and starting firing her arrows to drive the Uniontown forces further back. Woven joined her, and began to loft a heavy barrage of the readily available stones he could reach, breaking the attackers so that Listay’s small surviving squad was safe from attack. Kestrel watched as the escapees reached Wren and Woven, and embraced emotionally.

  They were safe from attack, and he gladly ceased his efforts to shield them, cutting off the blue energy that protected them. They were scrambling closer to him and to the cave, and it was heartening to see the survivors keeping up with Wren and Woven as they all climbed towards him and the sanctuary the cave could give them all. Once the battle at the lake was over, they could go their separate ways.

  Stuart was in the lead, and Lark was close behind him, followed by a pair of men Kestrel did not know, and them Hermes and Gates. Kestrel didn’t know where Stuart’s forces would go beyond the lake, but at least the group had managed to stay alive.

  Kestrel came out of his reverie as he realized he still needed to finish his task with the water skin. He crawled up over the last pile of stony rubble, and reached up to grab hold of the water skin, which lay in a shallow cavity in the stone, its spout pointed up towards the sky, with no flow of water issuing forth. He felt a sense of peace descend upon him as he held the skin and tipped it up, so that water started to flow from its spout once again, pouring down upon his shirt and his arms and his hands, running down his pants, cold and energetic and purifying.

  The water felt good, and he felt attuned to it, more aware of its qualities and its unique power. The energy within his own soul, the power that had come alive within him, recognized and responded to the energy in the waterskin. It reminded him of his experience in the healing spring, when he had felt and drawn upon the power of the spring water to enable him to fight the projection of the resurrected Ashcrayss that had sought to destroy him.

  “Kestrel! Is that it?” Wren asked as the rest of the motley force arrived. They were twenty feet below him, on a narrow shelf of level stone that provided a path to the cave. “Can you kill the Viathins now?” she asked.

  The moment Kestrel heard her last syllable, a bright flash appeared at the far end of the lake, and a bolt of energy struck Hermes, the last person in the line that was approaching Kestrel. There was a loud explosion and the first sound of a scream of pain as the man was struck by the red energy and bent over, then tumbled head first into the lake below.

  Kestrel reflexively threw up an energy shield, one that protected the people below as well as himself. Another bolt flew at them, and struck the shield, knocking Kestrel backwards and making the shield turn from blue to green.

  He looked at the far end of the lake and saw that among the bodies of the Uniontown forces that had been killed or wounded, there was an arriving influx of more, fresh soldiers. And leading them, standing at the shore line and looking at Kestrel, was a Viathin, a huge monster, one that stood on two legs, but towered over its human minions, standing at least three times as tall as any of them.

  It fired another blow at Kestrel, again striking his shield, and causing damage to it.

  “Get in the cave, all of you, now!” Kestrel shouted urgently.

  “But,” Stuart started to say.

  “Now! While we’re still alive!” Kestrel screamed.

  He raised the waterskin higher over his own head and poured its contents down upon himself again, then held it high with one hand, letting his energy recharge from its enchanted flow, as he simultaneously opened the skin of water from the healing spring and drank from it, to further enable him to carry out his mission.

  The shield of power grew brighter, and its color changed, moving through the spectrum of infinite shades to return to the pure, sapphire blue that was Kestrel’s own energy, and there it stayed. The Viathin fired another bolt, and his shield absorbed the damage, as Kestrel felt only minimal pain in response.

  The others in his party were making their way into the cave, disappearing from his sight as they travelled below him.

  “Stillwater!” he shouted, just before the Viathin discharged two bolts of power that struck at him simultaneously. One hit his shield and splattered as it harmed but did not penetrate the shield, but the other shot struck the rocky mountain face just outside his shield, and it sent a shower of sharp rock shards flying in all directions, including several that struck Kestrel all along his right side, making him fall down in pain, and making his shield falter, its color fading back to green once again.

  “Kestrel fighter, are you alright?” Stillwater asked.

  “Are they all in the cave yet?” Kestrel asked in return as he stood erect again, slightly bent as he favored his now-wounded right leg.

  “All but you and I,” Stillwater answered.

  Another bolt of red energy shot at them, and struck Kestrel’s shield, causing renewed damage, so that parts turned yellow and orange, and holes began to appear in it.

  “We must go, Kestrel,” Stillwater said urgently.

  Kestrel finally set the water skin in place above the cave opening, then tilted it more sharply forward, so that a steady stream of its water began to flow, falling down through empty air and into the larger falling stream of water that issued forth from the cave.

  “Watch this, Stillwater,” Kestrel said expectantly. He was ready to observe the catalysis that the water would bring, the wave of changing, purifying, protecting power that would sweep forth from the water skin and spread throughout the lands of the Inner Seas. It had been a glowing, bright, visible phenomenon the last time, and he longed to see it once again.

  Nothing happened. The water trickled downward, disappearing into the waters of the lake.

  Another bolt of energy shot at Kestrel. It shattered the last remnants of his shield, bouncing off his disintegrating fragment of protection and striking the mountainside above Kestrel. The elf was thrown backwards, and struck his head against a stone behind him, making him see stars in the sky momentarily.

  “Kestrel friend! Kestrel! Get up!” Stillwater stood on his chest trying to pull his head upward. “The monster is coming this way! We must join the others in the cave!”

  Kestrel raised his head, and saw that the monster was striding through the water, picking its steps carefully so that it stepped upon shallow bars and raised ledges below the surface of the lake. The lake waters retained their placid, dark state, without any sign of the change that Kestrel had counted on, as the monster forged a path through its heart.

  The monster raised its hand as he stood in the middle of the lake, and it fired another bolt of energy at Kestrel’s location. Stillwater flew straight up into the air, and Kestrel grabbed the water skin as he rolled forward and dove into the lake below. His body sliced down through the lake’s water, then he rose again to the surface, feeling battered by the heavy barrage of attacks he had suffered. There was a rumbling noise above, and Kestrel looked up to see that the successive attacks had loosened the side of the mountain, and that large boulders of stone were starting to tumble down from high above, the beginnings of a landslide that was falling directly towards where he treaded water at the end of the lake.

  Corrant would be angry, Kestrel thought, to see the Viathin damaging one of his mountains, dislodging the stones that comprised the gnomish god’s home and identity. Corrant would do something to seek revenge, he was sure.

  And then he remembered – he remembered how Corrant had given him the key to unleash the greater power of the water skin of Decimindion. It had been Corrant who had known the trigger that was needed to ignite the energy in the water skin, so that it burst forth across all the lands, traveling through all the waters. Corrant had planted the secret in Kestrel’s mind, deep in the back, hidden from the enemy, and hidden from Kestrel himself until he had needed the knowledge and been in a position to use it the last time he had been at the lake.
>
  It required the application of a spark of divine energy, the power of the gods, to ignite the water skin into spreading its power through all the waters.

  “Stillwater, here!” Kestrel held the water skin above his head as he treaded water in the lake.

  “Take this and wait for me in the cave!” Kestrel told the imp as he swooped down and grabbed the water skin.

  Kestrel stroked over to the wall beside the cavern, and painfully climbed up to the entrance. Pebbles and small stones were beginning to rush down, falling in front of the cave as the landslide above gathered both momentum and material on its way down to the lake. Inside the mouth of the cave, Kestrel rose up on his knees; he was vaguely aware of the others in the cave, further behind him, watching him as he took the water skin back from Stillwater, and held it above his head again, straight upward with both hands.

  The Viathin was coming closer, so close now that its image filled the view from the mouth of the cave, where Kestrel knelt in the cavern’s issuing stream, the skin held high, as its small trickle of water dribbled steadily down. And then Kestrel closed his eyes, and focused on his energy within, and compelled the strained and battered power to come forth, to rise up through his hands and to enter the water skin, so that it could issue forth with the changed and energized water.

  There was a burst of musical sound, and the cavern was filled with a bright new light. Kestrel looked up and saw that his forearms and hands were glowing; while he watched, the water skin took on the same glow, a warm, bluish golden glow. The water skin grew brighter and brighter, while the stones falling in front of the cave grew larger and more numerous, and the Viathin came closer.

  Then, suddenly, the water coming out of the skin gushed forth in a more powerful stream, and carried the container’s glow – Kestrel’s own glow – with it as it entered the water that was leaving the cavern. All that water from the skin and in the stream took on the glow as it swept over the lip of the cave and disappeared as it fell into the lake. The Viathin outside gave a terrible scream, a noise that was part anger, part fear, part sorrow, as it saw the bright line of water, the wave of renewed salvation for the Inner Seas, come sailing towards it.